"Wal, the long and the short of it is, they're all a coming, especially from Squir Rhodes. Miss Jemima wasn't willing at first, but the Squir sot in and said his colored people hadn't much chance for fun anyhow, and shouldn't be kept back from what come along in a nat'ral way."
"Squir Rhodes was ales a pusson as I s'pected," said Clorinda. "Let's see how many of 'em will count up."
She made rather bungling work in counting her fingers, going over them three or four times, and getting terribly puzzled in the end.
In the midst of her confusion, Victoria gave a little cry of dismay, and made a rush for the house, where she frantically tore off her apron and tucked it under one of the hall mats.
Clorinda, filled with indignation by this strange proceeding, turned in search of the cause, and lo! there was Dolf, Mr. Mellen's own man, crossing the lawn, with two other gentlemen of color, evidently from the city.
Clorinda snatched the broad straw flat from her head, and began to arrange her Madras turban with both hands, thus unhappily exposing some tufts of frosty gray that had managed to creep, year after year, into her wool. After this rather abrupt toilet, she drew herself up with a grand air, and marched forward to receive the strangers in a glorious state of self-complacency.
"Mr. Dolf, yer welcome as hot-house peaches—and these gemmen, may I 'quest an interdiction?"
Dolf had just been informing his companions that the lady approaching them was not to be sneezed at in any particular whatever, as she ruled the roost of Piney Cove, and had, everybody said, laid up lots of rocks; besides, as for cooking—well, he said nothing, it was not necessary; they would see what Clorinda was in that line when the supper came on. She had learned down South where people knew how to live.
This speech prepared the strangers to receive their sable hostess with great distinction, and when she launched a stupendous courtesy at them in acknowledgment of their elaborate bows, the mutual admiration that sprang up among the whole group then and there, was an oasis in the desert of human nature.
"Miss Clorinda—Mr. Sparks, of the Metropolitan Hotel; Mr. Hannibal, private attendant of an upper-crust gentleman, who is going to stop at the Sailor's Safe Anchor, fishing and shooting."