t, only don't let any of the darkies
have a hand at my tea. It's their nature to slop."

"But it isn't mine," Betty answered her, and ran, laughing, down into the
dining room.

"Dar ain' been no sich chunes sense young Miss rid away in de dead er de
night time," muttered Cupid, in the pantry. "Lawd, Lawd, I des wish you'd
teck up wid Marse Champe, en move 'long over hyer fer good en all. I reckon
dar 'ud be times, den, I reckon, dar 'ould."

"There are going to be times now, Uncle Cupid," responded Betty,
cheerfully, as she arranged the tray for Mrs. Lightfoot. "I'm going to make
some tea and toast right on this fire for your old Miss. You bring the
kettle, and I'll slice the bread."

Cupid brought the kettle, grumbling. "I ain' never hyern tell er sich a
mouf es ole Miss es got," he muttered. "I ain' sayin' nuttin' agin er
stomick, case she ain' never let de stuff git down dat fur--en de stomick
hit ain' never tase it yit."

"Oh, stop grumbling, Uncle Cupid," returned Betty, moving briskly about the
room. She brought the daintiest tea cup from the old sideboard, and leaned
out of the window to pluck a late microphylla rosebud from the creeper upon
the porch. Then, with the bread on the end of a long fork, she sat before
the fire and asked Cupid about the health and fortunes of the house
servants and the field hands.

"I ain' mix wid no fiel' han's," grunted Cupid, with a social pride
befitting the Major. "Dar ain' no use er my mixin' en I ain' mix. Dey stay
in dere place en I stay in my place--en dere place hit's de quarters, en my
place hit's de dinin' 'oom."

"But Aunt Rhody--how's she?" inquired Betty, pleasantly, "and Big Abel? He
didn't go back to college, did he?"

"Zeke, he went," replied Cupid, "en Big Abel he wuz bleeged ter stay behint
'case his wife Saphiry she des put 'er foot right down. Ef'n he 'uz gwine
off again, sez she, she 'uz des gwine tu'n right in en git mah'ed agin. She
ain' so sho', nohow, dat two husban's ain' better'n one, is Saphiry, en she
got 'mos' a min' ter try hit. So Big Abel he des stayed behint."

"That was wise of Big Abel," remarked Betty. "Now open the door, Uncle
Cupid, and I'll carry this upstairs," and as Cupid threw open the door, she
went out, holding the tray before her.

The old lady received her graciously, ate the toast and drank the tea, and
even admitted that it couldn't have been better if she had made it with her
own hands. "I think that you will have to com