anyhow" (this
last to myself). "Where did she live?"

"Where dey all live---down in de big house. She warn't Marse Henry's
real chile, but she come o' de blood. She didn't hab dem kind o' shoes
on her footses when I fust see her, but she wore 'em when she lef' me.
Dat she did." Her voice rose suddenly and her eyes brightened. "And
dem ain't nothin' to de way dey shined. I ain't never seen no satin
slippers shine like dem slippers; dey was jes' ablaze!"

I worked on in silence. Marny had cautioned me not to be too curious.
Some day she might open her heart and tell me wonderful stories of her
earlier life, but I must not appear too anxious. She had become rather
suspicious of strangers since she had moved North and lost track of her
own people, Marny had said.

Aunt Chloe picked up her pail and began moving some easels into a far
corner of my studio and piling the chairs in a heap. This done, she
stopped again and stood behind me, looking intently at the canvas over
my shoulder.

"My! My! ain't dat de ve'y image of dat frock? I kin see it now jes'
as Miss Nannie come down de stairs. But you got to put dat gold chain
on it 'fore it gits to be de ve'y 'spress image. I had it roun' my own
neck once; I knew jes' how it looked."

I laid down my palette, and picking up a piece of chalk asked her to
describe it so that I could make an outline.

"It was long an' heavy, an' it woun' roun' de neck twice an' hung down
to de wais'. An' dat watch on de end of it! Well, I ain't seen none
like dat one sence. I 'clar' to ye it was jes' 's teeny as one o' dem
lil biscuits I used to make for 'er when she come in de kitchen--an'
she was dere most of de time. Dey didn't care nuffin for her much.
Let 'er go roun' barefoot half de time, an' her hair a-flyin'. Only
one good frock to her name, an' dat warn't nuffin but calico. I used
to wash dat many a time for her long 'fore she was outen her bed.
Allus makes my blood bile to dis day whenever I think of de way dey
treated dat chile. But it didn't make no diff'ence what she had
on--shoes or no shoes--her footses was dat lil. An' purty! Wid her
big eyes an' her cheeks jes' 's fresh as dem rosewater roses dat I used
to snip off for ole Sam to put on de table. Oh! I tell ye, if ye could
picter her like dat dey wouldn't be nobody clear from here to glory
could come nigh her."

Aunt Chloe's eyes were kindling with every word. I remembered Marny's
warning and kept sti