Mamma! [(Throws her arms around Marie's neck, and kisses her.)]

   That will do -- take care, child -- don't you make my head ache! [(Kisses her languidly.)]

    [Enter: (Enter St. Clare, Ophelia, and Tom, nicely dressed.)]

   Well, my dear Marie, here we are at last. The wanderers have arrived, you see. Allow me to present my cousin, Miss Ophelia, who is about to undertake the office of our housekeeper.

    [(Rising to a sitting posture.)]
I am delighted to see you. How do you like the appearance of our city?

    [(Running to Ophelia.)] Oh! is it not beautiful? My own darling home! -- is it not beautiful?

   Yes, it is a pretty place, though it looks rather old and heathenish to me.

   Tom, my boy, this seems to suit you?

   Yes, mas'r, it looks about the right thing.

   Have you no curiosity to learn how and where I picked up Tom?

   Uncle Tom papa; that's his name.
ST CLARE:

   Right, my little sunbeam!

   Please, mas'r, that ain't no 'casion to say nothing bout me.

   Uncle, Tom! [(Runs to him. He lifts her in his arms. She kisses him.)]

   The dear soul!

    [(Astonished.)] How shiftless!

    [(Overhearing her.)] What's the matter now, pray?

   Well, I want to be kind to everybody, and I wouldn't have anything hurt, but as to kissing --

   N*****s! that you're not up to, hey?

   Yes, that's it -- how can she?

   Oh! bless you, it's nothing when you are used to it!

   I could never be so shiftless!

   Come with me, Uncle Tom, and I will show you about the house.

   Can I go mas'r?

   Yes, Tom; she is your little mistress -- your only duty will be to attend to her! [(Tom bows and exits.)]

   Eva, my dear!

   Well, mamma?

   Do not exert yourself too much!

   No, mamma! [(Runs out.)]

    [(Lifting up her hands.)]
How shiftless!

    [(St. Clare sits next to Marie on sofa. Ophelia next to St. Clare.)]

   Look at this. [(Takes an elegant velvet case from his pocket.)] Here's a present I got for you in New York -- a Daguerreotype of Eva and myself.

    [(Looks at it with a dissatisfied air.)] What made you sit in such an awkward position?

   Well, the position may be a matter of opinion, but what do you think of the likeness?

    [(Closing the case snappishly.)] If you don't think anything of my opinion in one case, I suppose you wouldn't in another.

    [(Sententiously, aside.)] How shiftless!

   Hang the woman! Come, Marie, what do you think of the likeness? Don't be nonsensical now.

   It's very inconsiderate of you, St. Clare, to insist on my talking and looking at things. You know I've been lying all day with the sick headache, and there's been such a tumult made ever since you came. I'm half dead!

   You're subject to the sick headache, ma'am?

   Yes, I'm a perfect martyr to it!

   Juniper-berry tea is good for sick head-ache; at least, Molly, Deacon Abraham Perry's wife, used to say so; and she was a great nurse.

   I'll have the first juniper-berries that get ripe in our garden by the lake brought in for that especial purpose. Come, cousin, let us take a stroll in the garden. Will you join us, Marie?

   I wonder how you can ask such a question, when you know how fragile I am. I shall retire to my chamber, and repose till dinner time. [(Exit.)]

    [(Looking after her.)] How shiftless!

   Come, cousin! [(As he goes out.)] Look out for the babies! If I step upon anybody, let them mention it.

   Babies under foot! How shiftless! [(Exeunt.)]