"No, I am not."
"Fo' de lan's sake, Ah wouldn' s'picioned hit fo' a minnit. Hit's de gayest place Ah mos' eveh saw—'cept Wash'ton an' Lex'ton an' Vicksbu'g."
"Well, you don't know everything," said Beverly crossly. "I wish you'd take that red feather out of my hat—right away."
"Shall Ah frow hit away, Miss Bev'ly?"
"We—ll, no; you needn't do that," said Beverly, "Put it on my dressing-table. I'll attend to it."
"Wha's become o' de gemman 'at wo' hit in the fust place? Ah ain' seen him fo' two—three days."
"I'm sure I don't know. He's probably asleep. That class of people never lose sleep over anything."
"'E's er pow'ful good-lookin' pusson," suggested Aunt Fanny. Beverly's eyes brightened.
"Oh, do you think so?" she said, quite indifferently. "What are you doing with that hat?"
"Takin' out de featheh—jes' as—"