"Thank you," she answered, sweetly. "I want to see him, so I'll run down
to the smoke-house."

She passed onto the small kitchen porch as she said this, and here the
old negress' voice halted her. There was a protesting, plaintive, sad
inflection in the one word--

"Missus?"

Julia stopped and turned abruptly, vaguely alarmed.

"Yes, Aunt Frances?"

"Missus, de flour bar'l done gone plum', clean em'ty; de side meat goes
dis mawnin' foh breakfus', 'n' de meal bar'l ain' much bettuh. I done
kotch a chick'n foh dinner yistiddy, but de Massa lub his biscuit
breakfus', dinner, _en_ suppuh!"

"You are right to tell me when things get low," she answered bravely,
but in a peculiarly low voice. "I'll send Uncle Peter into town with an
order this morning. Be careful not to let the flour run out completely
again."

"Bress dat chile!" exclaimed Aunt Frances, lifting the corner of her
apron to her eye as Julia disappeared. "I wonduh ef she t'inks she's
foolin' her ol' mammy? Hain't I lived heah always, 'n' hain't I seen dis
house go down 'n' down 'twell now hit mos' tech rock bottom? Some'in's
gwi' drap, sho! But me 'n' Peter'll be hyar w'en it comes!"

She tossed her turbaned head, and, stanch old Methodist that she was,
began crooning a "'vival" tune, wherewith to bolster up her sinking
courage.

Julia came to a standstill in the smoke-house doorway. Within, with his
back to her, stood Peter. A curry-comb was in one hand, and a brush in
the other. He had evidently come to a halt while making The Prince's
morning toilet, to spend a few moments in silent contemplation and
admiration. He had withdrawn several feet from the satin-sleek form of
the young colt, and reposed in an attitude of adoration, his skinny,
ridged neck stretched towards the object of his devotion. Julia was
compelled to speak his name twice before he heard her. Then he turned
with his customary profound bow, and greeted her deferentially.

"Uncle Peter, I want The Prince this morning," she said, coming straight
to the point, for she knew too well the old fellow's garrulousness to
attempt circumlocution. He would have kept her there till noonday.

Now this was the first time Julia had ever said she would ride The
Prince, and the wilfully deafened ears of Peter refused to recognize
this first declaration.

"Mom--missus--mom?" he ejaculated, bending slightly from the waist and
looking up at her keenly and suspiciously. "D'ye say de Prince look well
d