nny, in a low
voice, as the two looked after the spare erect figure in its black gown.
"_I_ 'lows, howsumebber, it's juss ribs an' bones an' all knucklely up
de back; nubbuddy 'ain't nebber _seed_ so many knucklelies! I say,
Jinny, 'tain't much honeyin' roun' _she's_ eber been boddered wid, I
reckon." And the two women laughed, though restraining themselves to low
tones, with the innate civility of their race.

Meanwhile it was taking Minerva Poindexter the entire distance of the
walk home to compose herself after that dancing, and more especially
after the unseemly amplitude of the two large, comely black women, an
amplitude which she would have confined immediately, if she had had the
power, in gowns of firm fibre made after a straight fashion she knew, in
which, by means of a system of restrictive seams in unexpectcd places,
the modeller was able to neutralize the effect of even the most
expansive redundancy.

At present Mrs. Rutherford was absorbing the time of Margaret,
Celestine, Evert Winthrop; of Betty Carew, who, sending Garda to stay
with the Moores, remained with dear Katrina; of Dr. Kirby, who paid
three visits a day; of Telano, Cyndy, Maum Jube, and Aunt Dinah-Jim, who
had transferred herself and her disorderly skill to the kitchen of the
eyrie. During the only other serious illness Katrina Rutherford had
known, one of her friends had remarked, "Oh, she's _such_ a
philanthropist!"

"Philanthropist?" said another, inquiringly.

"Yes; she has such a wonderful talent for employing people. That's
philanthropy nowadays, you know, and I _think_ Katrina could employ the
whole town."

Looth arriving, still redundant but spotlessly neat in a loose white
linen short-gown over a brilliant yellow cotton skirt, a red
handkerchief arranged as a turban, white stockings, and broad, low shoes
(which were soundless), supplied an element of color at the eyrie, as
well as abundant tact, a sweet, cooing voice, and soft strong arms for
lifting. She called Mrs. Rutherford "honey," and changed her position
skilfully and sympathetically twenty times a day. Mrs. Rutherford liked
the skill; even better she liked the sympathy; she had often complained
that there was very little true sensibility in either Margaret or
Celestine. To hear and see Looth persuade her patient to eat her dinner
was a daily entertainment to Winthrop. It was the most persuasive
coaxing ever heard, and Mrs. Rutherford, while never once losing her
martyr e