“Thank you, Ephy.”
“A-washin’ yo’ face en haid in de wash bowl, den climbin’ intuh de tub fo’ tuh wash de rest. Dat’s w’at I calls extravagantness.” He straightened up suddenly. “Now, sah, yo’ clothes is all laid out nice, sah. Is dar anyt’ing moah I kin do?”
“Nothing, Ephy—nothing. You’ve done everything a gentleman could expect of his valet. So vamoose!”
“Huh?”
“Get out—take your leave—anything you want to call it, so you leave me alone. I’m going to take a nap, and when I wake up I’ll be as hungry as a bear.”
“Well, I reckon we kin jes’ about satisfy dat appetite, chile. If dar’s anyt’ing mah Miss Betty hain’t got in de way ob food, I hain’t nebber diskivered hit yet.”
So Ephraim left Jim to his own devices, and went down to the servants’ quarters, where he literally talked the arms off of both Chloe and Dinah, while Metty stood by with wide-open mouth, as he listened to Ephraim’s tale of his adventures in Canada.
In the meantime, Dorothy and Aunt Betty were in the former’s big front room, and the girl, too, was removing the stains of the journey, keeping up an incessant chatter to Mrs. Calvert, the while.
“I was perfectly delighted with Oak Knowe,” she said, “and most particularly with your friend, the Bishop, who received me with open arms—not figuratively, but literally, Aunt Betty—and gave me such a good send-off to Miss Tross-Kingdon that I’m sure she became slightly prepossessed in my favor.”