"Kin I see Miss Ma'y?" asked Sophy timidly.
"I don't know, honey. Ole Miss Myrover say she don't want no cullud folks roun' de house endyoin' dis fun'al. I 'll look an' see if she 's roun' de front room, whar de co'pse is. You sed down heah an' keep still, an' ef she 's upstairs maybe I kin git yer in dere a minute. Ef I can't, I kin put yo' bokay 'mongs' de res', whar she won't know nuthin' erbout it."
A moment after she had gone, there was a step in the hall, and old Mrs.
Myrover came into the kitchen.
"Dinah!" she said in a peevish tone; "Dinah!"
Receiving no answer, Mrs. Myrover peered around the kitchen, and caught sight of Sophy.
"What are you doing here?" she demanded.
"I-I 'm-m waitin' ter see de cook, ma'am," stammered Sophy.
"The cook is n't here now. I don't know where she is. Besides, my daughter is to be buried to-day, and I won't have any one visiting the servants until the funeral is over. Come back some other day, or see the cook at her own home in the evening."
She stood waiting for the child to go, and under the keen glance of her eyes Sophy, feeling as though she had been caught in some disgraceful act, hurried down the walk and out of the gate, with her bouquet in her hand.
"Dinah," said Mrs. Myrover, when the cook came back, "I don't want any strange people admitted here to-day. The house will be full of our friends, and we have no room for others."