CHAPTER XIV
PLANS FOR THE WINTER
Summer had gone. Visitors had gone. Graham had gone to school. The banks of the lake were red and yellow, brown and purple, with autumnal foliage. Aunt Rachel was superintending the making of preserves. Lisa was at work on the piazza. Phil was sketching.
Slowly up the garden path came old Joe. He took off his hat and stood still a moment waiting for Phil to speak.
"Well, Joe, what is it?" said Phil, hardly looking up, he was so busy.
"This is just as fine as ever the garden of Eden was, but old Adam had to go, you know, Massa Phil." He had lately, of his own accord, put the Massa before Phil's name.
"What are you driving at, Joe?" asked Phil, absently.
"I mean I's a-gwine home, Massa Phil."
"To the city?" said Phil, surprised into attention.