“No, honey, you haven’t axed me; which I believe you never even thought of so doing. But if you must travel—by night, too—surely you’d never think of travelling alone in your state of health.”
“That is true—I never thought of it.”
“Which it seems to me you never do think of yourself, honey.”
“But it is a hard journey for you to undertake. Would not Pina do as well to go with me?”
“Hi, honey, what good Pina going to be, case you taken ill on the road? No, child, long as you will go, you must consent to take the ole ’oman along to look after you.”
“I believe you are right; quite right; and I thank you very much. But now you must let Pina pack that little trunk for me, while you go and get ready to attend me.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And be very quick, nurse. See, it is half-past one. It will take us an hour to ride to Washington, and I wish to be there by three o’clock, so as to make sure of the coach.”
“All right, ma’am. I will be ready in half an hour.”
And the old woman hurried away, not ill pleased to vary the monotony of her life at Cedarwood by a journey, this fine weather, into the mountainous regions of Virginia. It is true that this was a measure she would not have recommended to her patient; but, since that lady was resolved upon it, “mammy” made the best of it, and determined to draw what good she might out of the change of scene and circumstances.