“No, I haven’t the pleasure of Mrs. Carruth’s acquaintance though I hope to before long. (Mammy made a slight sound through her half-closed lips.) My grandmother was a Blairsdale.”
“Open sesame” was a trifling talisman compared with the name of Blairsdale.
“Wha’, wha’, wha’, yo say, suh?” demanded Mammy, stammering in her excitement. “Yo’s a Blairsdale?”
“No, I am Homer Forbes. My mother’s mother was a Blairsdale. I cannot claim the honor.”
“Yo’ kin claim de blood dough, an’ dat’s all yo’ hatter claim. Yo’ don’ need ter claim nuttin’ else ef yo’ got some ob dat. But I mustn’t stan’ here talkin’ no longer. Yo’ kin come an’ see my Miss Jinny ef yo’ wantter. If yo’s kin ob de Blairsdales’ she’ll be pintedly glad fer ter know yo’,” ended Mammy, courtesying to this branch of the blood royal, and turning to lead Baltie up the hill.
“Thank you. I think I’ll accept the invitation before very long. I’d like to know Miss Jean a little better. Good-day Mammy Blairsdale.”
“Good-day, suh! Good-day,” answered Mammy, smiling benignly upon the favored being.
As she drew near the house a perplexed expression overspread her old face. She still held the handkerchief with its weight of change; earnest of the morning’s good intentions. Yet what a morning it had been for her and the others!
“I clar ter goodness dat chile lak ter drive us all ’stracted. Fust she scare us nigh ’bout ter death, an’ we ready fer ter frail her out fer her doin’s. Den she come pa’radin’ home wid a bagful ob cash kase she tryin’ fer ter help we-all. Den what yo’ gwine ’do wid her? Smack her kase she done plague yo’, or praise her kase she doin’ her bes’ fer ter mek t’ings go a little mite easier fer her ma?” ended Mammy, bringing her tongue against her teeth in a sound of irritation.
Meanwhile the cause of all the commotion had gone tearing up the hill and into the house where she ran pell-mell into Eleanor who had just come home, and who knew nothing of the excitement of the past few hours. Constance had gone over to Amy Fletcher’s to inquire for the runaway. Jean was on the border land between tears and anger, and Eleanor was greeted with: