“Miss Lady, she been 'cumulatin' 'em to darn 'em,” explained Jimpson, glad to shift responsibility. “She 'low she gwine to tak a day off some o' dese days, an' mend up ever'thing in de house.”
The Colonel glanced around: “Where is Miss Lady?”
“Out in de hall, readin' de evenin' paper. Nebber did see dat chile tek so much notice ob de newspaper. Yas, sir, I'll call her.”
“Any later news of the shooting?” asked the Colonel casually, when she returned.
“Yes, Mr. Dillingham was indicted and arraigned before the court. The case was passed until June first.”
“And Sheeley? What of his condition?”
“The paper says he will lose his eye, but that he will probably get well.”
“And—and nothing has been heard of Morley?”
“Not yet.”
After supper, when all the preparations for the trip were completed, and the cheerful presence of Uncle Jimpson and Aunt Caroline removed, the Colonel and Miss Lady sat before the dying fire, and tried to make conversation. Outside wet branches swept the windows, and sudden gusts of rain beat against the panes.