"Nasah, but dey's gwine," the black woman replied tenderly. "Ye can't stop 'em long. Lemme plead fur 'em, sah! You wuz young an' wild once, major"—the silvery gray head sank low and the white lips quivered—"you take all yer money frum Mister Tom—what he care fer dat now wid love singin' in his heart? Young folks is young folks——"
Norton lifted his head and stared as in a dream.
"Won't ye hear me, sah? Can't I go upstairs an' speak de good word ter Mister Tom now an' tell him hit's all right?"
A sudden idea flashed into Norton's mind.
The ruse would be the surest and quickest way to get Tom into the room alone.
"Yes, yes," he answered, glancing at her. "You can say that to him now——"
Minerva laughed:
"I kin go right up dar to his room now an' tell 'im dat you're er waitin' here wid yer arms open an' yer heart full er love an' fergiveness?"
"Yes, go at once"—he paused—"and keep Miss Helen there a few minutes. I want to see him first—you understand——"
"Yassah! yassah!" Minerva cried, hastening to the door followed by Andy. "I understands, I understands"—she turned on Andy. "Ye hear dat, you fool nigger? Ain't I done tole you dat hit would all come out right ef I could des say de good word? Gloree! We gwine ter hab dat weddin' all over agin! You des wait till yer seen dat cake I gwine ter bake——"