side the hall,
but out of view from their end of the porch.

"Make the old beldam go away, won't you?" whispered the man.

"I'll try," she whispered back rather nervously. Then, raising her
voice, she called out in slightly strained, somewhat artificial voice,
which to the understanding of the annoyed young man in the hammock
appeared to have almost a suggestion of apprehension in it:

"Is--is that you, Aunt Sharley?"

The answer was little more than a grunt.

"Well, Aunt Sharley, hadn't you better be seeing about supper?"

"Num'mine 'bout supper. Ise tendin' to de supper. Ise bound de supper'll
be ready 'fo' you two chillens is ready fur to eat it."

Within, the chair continued to creak steadily.

The girl spread out her hands with a gesture of helplessness.

"You see how it is," she explained under her breath. "Auntie is so set
in her ways!"

"And she's so set in that rocking-chair too," he retorted grimly. Saying
what he said next, he continued to whisper, but in his whisper was a
suggestion of the proprietorial tone. Also for the first time in his
life he addressed her without the prefix of Miss before her name. This
affair plainly was progressing rapidly, despite the handicaps of a
withered black duenna in the immediate offing.

"Emmy Lou," he said, "please try again. Go in there yourself and speak
to her. Be firm with her--for once. Make her get away from that door.
She makes me nervous. Don't be afraid of the old nuisance. This is your
house, isn't it--yours and your sister's? Well, then, I thought
Southerners knew how to handle darkies. If you can handle this one,
suppose you give me a small proof of the fact--right now!"

Reluctantly, as though knowing beforehand what the outcome would be,
Emmy Lou stood up, revealing herself as a straight dainty figure in
white. She entered the door. Outside in the hammock Harvey strained his
ears to hear the dialogue. His sweetheart's voice came to him only in a
series of murmurs, but for him there was no difficulty about
distinguishing the replies, for the replies were pitched in a strident,
belligerent key which carried almost to the yard fence. From them he was
able to guess with the utmost accuracy just what arguments against the
presence of the negress the girl was making. This, then, was what he
heard:

". . . Now, Mizz Emmy Lou, you mout jes' ez well hush up an' save yore
breath. You knows an' I knows, even ef he don't know it, dat 'tain't
proper fur no