The small retinue of house servants met the carriage at the foot of the broad steps. They were mostly smiling young negroes, the men in livery and the girls in cotton gowns, stiffly starched aprons, and white caps. There was a broad, unctuous looking, mahogany colored “Mammy” on the top step, and a gray-wooled, bent, old negro at the door of the carriage when it stopped.
“Good day, ma’am! Good-day!” said the old man to Mrs. Parsons. “My duty to you.”
He waved away the officious footman and insisted upon helping the mistress of the Merredith plantation down with all the pompous service of a major-domo.
“We are all well, Patrick Henry,” said Aunt Rachel. “Is everything right on the plantation?”
“Yes’m; yes’m. I’ll be proud to make my report at any time, ma’am.”
“Oh, to-morrow, I pray, Patrick Henry,” cried Mrs. Parsons. She ran lightly up the steps and the big colored woman, waiting there with smiling lips but overflowing eyes, gathered the lady to her broad bosom in a bearlike hug.
“Ma honey-gal! Ma little mistis!” she crooned, rocking the white woman’s head to and fro upon her bosom. “Dilsey don’t reckon she’ll welcome yo’ here so bery many mo’ times; but she’s sho’ glad of dishyer one!”
“You are good for many years more, you know it, Mammy Dilsey!” laughed Mrs. Parsons, breathlessly.
“Here’s Miss Nettie,” she said, “and two of her school friends—Miss Ruth and Miss Helen. Of course, there is no need to ask you, Mammy Dilsey, if everything is ready for them?”
“Sho’, chile!” chuckled the old negress. “Yo’ knows I wouldn’t fo’git nottin’ like dat. De quality allus is treated proper at Mer’dith. Come along, honeys; dere’s time t’ res’ yo’selfs an’ dress fo’ dinner. We gwine t’ gib yo’ sech anudder dinner as yo’ ain’ seen, Miss Rachel, since yo’ was yere airly in de spring. I know bery well yo’ been stahvin’ ob yo’self in dem hotels in de Norf all dishyer w’ile.”