"Indeed! How did that happen?"
"That sneaking mulatto girl came to the chamber-door as I was passing, and beckoned me to come in."
"And you went?"
"Me! Why not? If a girl never sinsatiates around, how is she to find out what's going on? Besides, I wanted to know just how Babylon looked in her own room; so, being invited, I went in."
"But what did she want of you?"
"Don't know. Something besides doing a braid up in eleven strands, I surmise; but that was what she made believe it was about—just as if that mulatto creature didn't understand that much of her business. I did it though, meek as Moses—such hair! a yard long in the shortest part. It was worth while trying a hand at it; but, after all, it seemed like braiding copperheads and rattlesnakes. I hate to touch anybody's hair if I don't like 'em; it makes me crawl all over."
"But why don't you like Mrs. Dennison?"
"Why—because I don't; and because you don't either."
I could not help smiling, and yet was half angry with the girl. She shook her head gravely and went on:
"It wasn't the hair, Miss Hyde; that copper-colored girl knew more than I did about it, often as I've braided for Miss Jessie."