"Go and get ready for dinner," she commanded, "and try to look your best to-night; you know we've Mr. Decherd, and perhaps other company. That girl Delphine has run away, and I had to look after things myself; I don't want you to disgrace me—"
"I'll try not," said Miss Lady, coolly, and swept her a mocking courtesy.
Mrs. Ellison gazed after her with ill-veiled hostility, but turned away presently, quite as anxious as she was angry. This girl was a problem, and a dangerous one as well.
Things were not going smoothly at the Big House. Sam, the curly- headed, embryonic butler, who gazed out over Colonel Blount's dinner- table each evening in solemn dignity, knew that something was wrong with his people that evening, though he could not tell what. Some of them talked too much. Miss Lady laughed too much. The boss was too thoughtful, and young Massa Decherd—whom Sam had never learned to like—was too scowling. Little Sam was almost relieved when a knock summoned him without, and he betook his ten years of dignity from Colonel Blount's right hand, to learn what might be wanted at the door.
"What is it, Sam?" asked Colonel Blount.
"M-m-m-m-man outside, sah, h-h-h-he wants to see you, sah."
"Well, Sam, if there is a gentleman outside, why don't you ask him to come in and eat with us? Don't you know your manners, Sam? Why do I give you this place to run if you can't ask a gentleman to come in and sit at your table when we are having dinner?"
"D-d-did as-s-s-sk him, sah," said Sam, "b-b-but he wouldn't c-c-c- come in; n-n-n-no, sah, wouldn't c-c-c-come in."
"What, wouldn't come in, eh?"
"No, sah, s-s-s-says you must come out, sah. W-w-w-wants to see you, sah. H-h-h-he won't wait."