tting with the ferrule of her sunshade. "Let well enough
alone, Liz Trott. If what I know makes me see sights and hear sounds in
the dead of night, what good would it do to bring it onto you?"

Lizzie laid down the powder-puff she was using and bent lower over the
rambling speaker.

"You _do_ know something," she said, under her breath. "You knew it
yesterday. What do you mean by deviling me this way? You had it on your
mind last night while the crowd was here and after they left. They knew
it, too. I remember now how they looked at one another."

"I don't know anything," Jane said, doggedly, with a cloud across her
wan face, and she got up, sighing. "I know I'll go stark, staring crazy
if this keeps up. Stop your tongue! Let me alone! Huh! I know what's
good for you."

Therewith Jane left the room and all but staggered to her own.

"She does know something," Lizzie Trott mused, as she stared at her
reflection in the mirror. She completed her toilet and went down to the
kitchen. A negro woman was at work there preparing supper.

"Don't burn the bread again, Mandy," she said, carelessly, her mind
still occupied by the conversation just ended.

"Lawsy me! you needn't bother," the portly woman sniffed. "You may res'
shore dat I won't burn it atter supper to-night, fer I'm gwine ter quit
yer."

"Quit us? Why?"

The woman shrugged her fat shoulders. "Beca'se Jake done say fer me to,
dat's why," she muttered. "I done promised ter love en' obey at de
weddin', same es him, en' he say he done laid de law down. Dis is my
las' day wid you en' t'other woman. We-all's preacher been talkin' ter
Jake, en' he say you is unloadin' yo' dirt on de black race, 'case no
white woman will work in dis house en' clean up atter you."

"So that is it," Lizzie Trott said, unrebelliously. "Well, well, I
sha'n't plead with you." And with a haughty step she turned from the
room.

There was nowhere to go that evening, and it happened that no visitors
came, so Lizzie felt quite lonely. Even Jane's companionship was denied
her, for Jane remained in her room with the door shut. She hadn't come
down to supper, having answered to the call with the remark that she was
not hungry and was feeling no better.

Ten o'clock came, eleven, twelve. Lizzie stepped out into the front
yard and looked up at Jane's window to see if there was a light. The
room was dark, and even the blinds were drawn down.

"Something really must be wrong," Lizzie speculat