"Well, puttin' in aw-spice double is nonsense, shuah nuff," said Aun'
Sheba, looking at the girl keenly. "Wot you want spicin' so fer all't
once, Missy Ella? You peart, an' saucy as eber. I ony wish I could see
Missy Mara lookin' like you."
"You are getting old and blind, Aun' Sheba. I have a secret sorrow gnawing at my 'inards,' as you term those organs which keep people awake o' nights, gazing at the moon."
"Yes, honey, Aun' Sheba gittin' bery ole an' bery blin', but she see dat dere's sump'in out ob kilter wid de inards ob you bofe. Well, well, I s'pose it's none ob de ole woman's business."
"Ann' Sheba," cried Ella, with an exaggerated sigh, "if you could mend matters I'd come to you quicker than to any one else, you dear old soul! Well now, to tell you the honest truth, there isn't very much the matter with me, and there's a certain doctor that's going to cure me just as sure as this batter (holding up a spoonful) is going to be cake in ten minutes."
"Who dat?"
"Doctor Time—oh, get out!" At this instant an irate bumble-bee darted in, and Ella, in a spasmodic effort of self-defence, threw the spoon at it, and both went flying out of the window. The girl sat down half-crying, half-laughing in her vexation, while Aun' Sheba shook with mirth in all her ample proportions.
"Dat ar cake's gwine to be dough for eber mo', Missy Ella," she said. "I'se feerd you'se case am bery serus. Yit I worries mo' 'bout Missy Mara. Heah now, honey, you jes dun beat out. You sit down an' Missy Ella an' me'll finish up in a jiffy. I reckon Missy Ella ony got a leetle tantrum dis mawnin, but you'se been a wuckin' an' tinkin' too hard dis long time."
"Yes, Aun' Sheba," cried Ella, "that's the trouble. Let's you and I take the business out of her hands for a time, and make her a silent partner."
"She too silent now. Bofe oh you gittin' ter be silent par'ners. In de good ole times I'd heah you chatterin' as I come up de stars, an' to-day you was bofe right smart ways off from dis kitchen in you mins. Mum, mum, tinkin' deep, bofe ob you. Eysters ud make a racket long ob you uns dis mawnin'."
"There, Aun' Sheba," said Mara, kindly, "don't you worry about us. This is July, and in August we'll take a rest. You deserve and need it as much as either of us. I'll get well and strong then, and you know it makes people worse to tell them they don't look well and all that."