Sally somehow liked the pride and scorn that rang out in Mammy's voice at the idea of there being any one else who could do her cooking as well as she could.
"She believes in herself," thought Sally, "and it is a good thing."
Mammy hobbled into her cabin as Corniel and Sam went toward the house, little Jule tagging into the cabin after Mammy. And Sally went back through the sweet air and green roads, and through Shady Path and Lover's Lane, her mind and ears full of the merry laughter of happy little Jule.
CHAPTER VI.
THE SUPPER COMPANY
When Sally heard the order for the supper company the next night, she at once decided that her own simple meal must be quickly eaten, as she must see something of the fine things at Ingleside.
By standing on the rocks it would be easy to peep through the thin tangle near the arbor just above her head and close by the wall. It would not do to take long peeps, but she could take several for a moment at a time. Yet she must beware: a sudden gust of wind might part the slight brush, show her bright eyes, then, alas, the pleasure it might take from her!
Oh, but it was wonders she did with the old brush, the same that the groom had thrown away at Ingleside! She did not wait until evening to try it, but during the afternoon, with the bit of looking-glass propped up before her, she patiently brushed and brushed, until something like a parting appeared along the middle of her well-shaped head.
At that she took a stout pin, and running it down the uneven seam, made a beautiful even parting, the thick, ruddy hair standing high on each side of it.
"My, how pretty that looks!" innocently murmured the child. Then again she brushed and brushed, until the ripply mass shone like unto burnished gold. And now, instead of a matted mop, it lay row upon row of soft, loose, orderly ringlets, so careless yet neat in arrangement that Sally awoke right there to a knowledge of the extreme beauty of her luxurious hair.