“All right,” said Nan, and in they went, through the vacant rooms, and again to the kitchen.
“Why, there’s Hopalong,” said Patty, as she saw the old coloured woman busy about her work, though indeed Hopalong’s slow movements could not be accurately described by the word busy.
“Hello, Hopalong,” said Patty, “where are all the people?”
“Bless yo’ heart Miss Patty, chile, how yo’done skeered me! And howdy, Miss Nan,—’scuse me, I should say Missus Fairfield. De ladies is at home, and I ’spects dey’ll be mighty glad to see you folks.”
“Where are they, then?” said Nan, looking puzzled, “we can’t find them.”
“Well yo’ see it’s a mighty hot day, and dem Barlows is mighty fond of bein’ as comf’able as possible. I’m makin’ dis yere lemonade for ’em, kase dey likes a coolin’ drink. I’ll jest squeeze in another lemon or two, and there’ll be plenty for you, too.”
“But where are they, Hopalong?” asked Patty, “are they outdoors, down by the brook?”
“Laws no, Miss Patty, I done forgot to tell yo’ whar dey am, but dey’s down in de cellah.”
“In the cellar!” said Patty, “what for?”
“So’s dey kin be cool, chile. Jes’ you trot along down, and see for yourselfs.”