The woman stared at her so stupidly that Miss Fronde repeated the question.
Then Lucy burst out suddenly:
“Oh, Miss Yoma! ’Ow would I like to go back to dat b’essed ole p’ace? ’Ow would I like to go to hebben, w’en my time come? Not as I’m in any huyey to go dere, neider. I f’ought I was gwine to hebben w’en I ’mancipated de ole p’ace an’ com’d yere. But, Lor’!”
“And so you would like to return, then?”
“Like! W’y, youn’ mist’ess, I jeams ob it at night. I jeams as I’m back dere in my log house, a-smokin’ ob my sweet corncob pipe by my b’ight pine-knot fire, an’ I feels so happy, an’ finks as it is yeal, an’ dis yere was de jeam. Den I wakes up, an’ sometimes I cwies. It mos’ b’eaks my heart. It do, fo’ a fac’. Sometimes Tom say to me, he say, ‘Mammy, w’at de matter wid yo’?’ An’ I say, ‘Oh, Tom!’ I can say no mo’n dat.”
“When can you be ready to go with me, Lucy?”
“Any time—dis minit!—w’ich I doane mean zackly dat, but soon’s ebber I finishes ob dem clo’es w’at’s hangin’ on de line, w’ich will be dis werry arternoon, ’ca’se one mus’ keep deir ’gagements, yo’ know, ma’am.”
“Certainly,” assented Roma.
“But I can be yeady to go to-night or moyer mo’nin’.”
“To-morrow morning will be quite time enough.”