“W’ich it is her age-able years, ma’am, of coorse. She can’t be as young as she used to be,” said the woman gravely.
“Probably not,” admitted Palma with a smile.
The waiting woman lighted two short sperm candles, in short brackets, and, with one in each hand, prepared to lead the way.
“Shall we bid you good-night, uncle, dear?” inquired Palma, going to the side of his easy-chair and bending over him.
“You may, my dear, and your friend; but I must have ten minutes’ talk with your husband here before I let him go. I will not keep him longer than that,” replied the old gentleman benignly.
“Good-night, then, uncle, dear,” she said, raising his delicate hands to her lips.
“God bless you, my love,” he responded, drawing her to him and leaving a kiss on her forehead.
“Good-night, sir,” said Mrs. Pole with a formal bow.
“Good-night, ma’am,” replied Mr. Cleve, lifting his skullcap and bending his head.
Palma and Poley followed the colored woman out of the parlor into the big, bare hall, up the broad stairs to the upper hall, which was quite as big and as bare.