Grantley had accepted this sable household with the general inheritance; for, spoiled and pampered as family negroes are apt to be, they had proved generally faithful and obedient.
Though a very reverential and submissive person when her master was present, Clorinda, who had appointed herself housekeeper of the establishment, was apt to get on to a very high horse indeed when there was no superior authority to hold her in check; and, on this particular occasion, she was absolutely what she declared herself—"chief cook and bottle-washer."
This sable functionary was very busy two or three mornings before the time set for her master's wedding, not only in the general preparations for that event, but with a grand idea of her own, which she was earnestly carrying into effect. If the house was going into the hands of a new mistress, the colored persons of the establishment had resolved to commemorate the event in advance with a grand entertainment.
To this end, Clorinda, who appointed herself lady patroness in general, had betaken herself to Mr. Mellen's library with Caleb Benson, the high-shouldered, bald-headed occupant of "The Sailor's Safe Anchor," and the person whose prerogative it had been to supply fresh fish to the family at Piney Cove. Besides this, he performed a good deal of work in the grounds, and made himself generally useful.
This morning Benson had come up to the house at Miss Clorinda's special request, in order to assist in the literary department of the coming entertainment. Neither Clorinda nor any of her dark compeers could read or write, but invitations must be sent out after the most approved fashion; and Clorinda had a fancy that the neighborhood of so many books would be a great help, so she led Caleb with august ceremony into the spacious library, and laid a quantity of pink note-paper and yellow envelopes, all covered and embossed with silver, on the table before him.
"Jes set down, Mr. Caleb, and write dem tings out special," she said, rolling up a great leathern chair, and patting its glossy green cushions enticingly. "Set down, Caleb, an' write, for I know yer kin."
Caleb laid his cap on one chair, and his stout walking-stick across another. Then he rubbed the hard palms of his hands fiercely together, and sat down on the edge of Mr. Mellen's chair, that threatened to roll from under him each moment.
"Now, Miss Clo, what is it you want of me? I'm on hand for a'most anything."
"I knows you is, and ales wuz, Caleb; that's why I trusted yer wid de delicatest part ob dis entertainment. 'Member its premptory to de weddin'."
"Preparatory, isn't that the correct word, Miss Clo?"