"I know she can't. Is my brother——?"
"And de commodo' he at de gemp'men's table, an' so he, Mr. Hugh, he 'p'inted to de ladies' table, an' will you please fo' to set in de place o' yo' ma?"
"Oh, rid-ic-ulous! Who? me? I?" The laugh grew plaintive.
"Yes, you; why not?" said the pilot at the wheel, with his eyes fixed far up the river.
But Ramsey glanced at her short skirts and laughed to all by turns: "Oh, it's just some ridiculous mistake!"
"No, miss, 'tain't no mistake. All de yetheh ladies incline de place." Every one laughed. "Oh, he on'y off' it to one! But when she say fo' to off' it to you den dey all say de same; yass'm, sawt o' in honoh o' yo' ma."
"They're afraid that seat'll give 'em the cholera," said the pilot in grim jest, still gazing up-stream, but the ladies cried out in denial for all their sex.
"I accept," said Ramsey, with a downward pull at her draperies. "How's my brother?"
"Thank y'ma'am," was the bowing waiter's only reply. He tripped down the pilot-house steps and away.
"Your brother," said the squire's sister as they all followed, "isn't in nearly so much pain, we hear."