"Ah, but mammy, you know how I feel about it. I won't marry my cousin if I can help it."
"Hit's yo' feelin's, honey, w'at des riles up my in'erds so I kyant hardly wuk. Dat's whar my projeckin' gins out, en I'se kin'er stump'd 'bout hit. Dey's gwine right 'long wid dere prep'rations des ez ef dey cud do ez dey pleased. Dunno w'at de law is 'bout hit ef dere is any law in dese mux-up times. I'se des took clar off my foots wid all de goin's on. De fiel'-han's at de quarters is bilin' ober wid 'citement, en dey's sayin' de Linkum men's comin' ter upset ebryting. Whar dey get de news fum I dunno. Dey sez ole mars'r is 'stracted en ole miss des put her thin lips tergedder ez ef she gwine ter hab her way ter de las' minit. Ez fer Marse Whately, you knows he al'ays hab his way, en ef dere isn't eny way he mek it. You sez de min'ster en folks is comin'? Hit des stumps me fer dem ter go on so ef dey hasn't de po'r."
"Well, then," said the girl desperately, "they will have to use force all the way through. I'll never give my consent."
"P'raps w'en de min'ster see dat he woan mar'y you."
"That's just my hope," said the girl, "I—"
A quick step was heard and a moment later Mrs. Baron entered the cabin. Ostensibly she came for some of the articles which Aun' Jinkey had ironed, but Miss Lou knew she was under surveillance and she departed without a word. On entering her room she found that her little trunk had been packed and locked in her absence and that the key was gone. She felt that it was but another indignity, another phase of the strong quiet pressure urging her toward the event she so dreaded. A hunted, half-desperate look came into her eyes, but she did not waver in her purpose.
Mrs. Whately knocked, but the girl would not admit her.
Meanwhile Mrs. Baron said to Aun' Jinkey in parting, "See to it that you don't put foolish notions in my niece's head. We are none of us in a mood for trifling to-day."
Then the old woman's wrath burst out. "You 'speck I'se feared ter speak fer dat chile w'at stan' by me so? Bettah be keerful yosef, mistis; you alls gittin' on ve'y scarey groun' wid Miss Lou. You tink you kin do wid her w'at you pleases des ez ef she a lil gyurl baby. I reck'n her moder come out'n her grabe ter look arter you ef you ain' keerful."
"What do you mean by such language?"