ere at the front of
the house we've asked her a hundred times. It's bad enough to have her
whooping like a wild Indian in the kitchen. But it never seems to do any
good."

"Why don't you try getting rid of her altogether as a remedy?" suggested
the young man.

"Get rid of Aunt Sharley! Why, Harvey--why, Mr. Winslow, I mean--we
couldn't do that! Why, Aunt Sharley has always been in our family! Why,
she's just like one of us--just like our own flesh and blood! Why, she
used to belong to my Grandmother Helm before the war----"

"I see," he said dryly, breaking in on her. "She used to belong to your
grandmother, and now you belong to her. The plan of ownership has merely
been reversed, that's all. Tell me, Miss Emmy Lou, how does it feel to
be a human chattel, with no prospect of emancipation?" Then catching the
hurt look on her flushed face he dropped his raillery and hastened to
make amends. "Well, never mind. You're the sweetest slave girl I ever
met--I guess you're the sweetest one that ever lived. Besides, she's
gone--probably won't be back for half an hour or so. Don't hitch your
chair away from me--I've got something very important that I want to
tell you--in confidence. It concerns you--and somebody else. It concerns
me and somebody else--and yet only two persons are concerned in it."

He was wrong about the time, however, truthful as he may have been in
asserting his desire to deal confidentially with important topics.
Inside of ten minutes, which to him seemed no more than a minute, seeing
that he was in love and time always speeds fast for a lover with his
sweetheart, the old black woman came hurrying back up the side street,
and turned in at the side gate and retraversed the lawn to the back of
the old house, giving the vine-screened porch a swift searching look as
she hobbled past its corner.

Her curiosity, if so this scrutiny was to be interpreted, carried her
further. In a minute or two she suddenly poked her head out through the
open front door. She had removed her damaged straw headgear, but still
wore her kerchief. Hastily and guiltily the young man released his hold
upon a slim white hand which somehow had found its way inside his own.
The sharp eyes of the old negress snapped. She gave a grunt as she
withdrew her head. It was speedily to develop, though, that she had not
entirely betaken herself away. Almost immediately there came to the ears
of the couple the creak-creak of a rocking-chair just in