“No, ma’am, likely not, chile, indeed. I lives quite distant off, down der on Cedar Creek, unnerneaf of Bushy Hill der on de outskeerts o’ de plantashum.”
“Well, Nelly, who is tending Field Mary?”
“I is, ma’am. Hardbargain Henny, she long o’ her now. But I tends her. I tends all de wimmin hands when dey’s sick, ’deed I does, chile. But poor creeturs, dey alluz wants der miste’ss, alluz. I never knew dem to fail o’ fretting arter her, dey don’t seem to feel kinder safe widout her, dough I alluz tells de poor ignoran’ creeturs, der mist’ess can’t do nuffin ’tall—dere in de han’s o’ de Lord—not in de mist’ss’s. An’ dar Fiel’Mary, ’ceitful thing, sendin’ you word how she didn’t want you sturved, arter keepin’ on arter us all night to send for you; but I telled her good I wan’t agoin’ to have the young madam wurritted long o’ her ‘fernal nonsense, bein’ as it was de lassest night Marster had to stay at home.”
“Yes, there, go now,” said Catherine, waving her hand wearily.
“Nyther wan’t it any sort o’ use, case I, myse’f, dough I should’n be de fuss to bray affen it, am as knowin’ a ‘oman as if I wur book edified, bein’ as I has had thirty years ’speriments, ten years practysin’ on ole Marse Roger Gower plantashum, down in ole Si’ Mary’s, ’fore I came here, nuss long o’ Miss Car’line Gower, wid her fuss baby, which was our Miss Car’line Clif’n. An’ dat war twenty odd year ago, an’ I’se had twenty years ’speriments here. Lord, mist’ess, ma’am, whenever you ’quires any ’vice and ’sistance, you ain’t no ’cassion to call in any dem derned, infunnelly, roguing doctors as makes you worse sick, purpose o’ gettin’ more credit and money for makin’ you well.”
“There—there—there—there, Nelly, return to your patient.”
“Yes, mist’ess, I’m gwine now, ma’am, only I wanted to tell you while I trought of it, how when eber you ’quire of de aid an’ comfort, you no call to send offen de plantashum, case—”
“Nelly, there is one thing that I must say to you now, and which I wish you to remember. It is that when I give a direction I intend it to be followed.”
The old woman looked mortified, and took up the hamper, settled it upon her head, and went out. It pained Catherine’s gentle heart to speak so peremptorily. But this was one among the abuses she felt it to be her imperative duty to reform, the habits of idleness and listlessness, and the propensity to stand and gossip among the domestics. Trifling as this little incident was, it served to arouse Catherine and place her on her feet, and she did not utterly sink again.
The evening fire was kindled on the household hearth, and the evening lamp lighted, though there was but one lonely woman to feel their cheering influence.