"De fault was mine," cried Dolf, in his gallantry; "all mine, so dat imperent yaller gal need'n larf herself quite to death."
"Imperent yaller gal? am no more yaller den yer is," answered Vic.
"Any how yer needn't stand dar a grinning like a monkey, Vic," exclaimed Clorinda, in wrath.
"Accidents will recur," said Dolf. "But, laws, Miss Victory, is dat you? I had de pleasure of yer 'quaintance afore me and marster started on our trabels."
"I've been alone here eber since," explained Victoria, not proof against his fascinations. "I'm sure yer haint altered a bit, Mr. Dolf."
"I guess if yer don't go upstairs miss'll know why," cried Clorinda, sharply. "Jes give me dat pan, Mr. Dolf; I kint wait all day for you to empty it."
Dolf was recalled to wisdom at once—he could not afford to make a misstep on the very day of his return. He emptied the pan, followed Clorinda into the kitchen, making a sign of farewell to Vic which the old maid did not observe. Once in Clorinda's own dominion, the darkey so improved the impression already produced that he was soon discussing a delicate luncheon with great relish, and so disturbing Clorinda's equanimity by his compliments, that she greatly endangered the pie-crust she was industriously rolling out on one end of the table where he sat.