"We haven't had such a belle in South Carolina in many years," she said. "Before the war--" and she sighed.
Barney laughed unfeelingly, and Mrs. La Grange continued:
"How about Araby, son? Are you going to sell her to Carolina?"
"Indeed I am not, Aunt Angie. I'd give her to Miss Carolina before I'd sell her to anybody else; but, to tell you the truth, I'd about die if I had to part with that mare! She's human. Sound as a dollar and not a trick of any kind. That nigger horse-trainer is a magician with animals. I'm blest if I don't believe he'll teach Araby to talk before he quits. And she whinnies if she even passes him in a crowd."
"Carolina wants her worse than anything in the world."
"Well, she can just go awn wantin'," said the usually gallant Mr. Mazyck, ungallantly. "If I'd give Araby to her, I'd lose both my mare and my sweetheart."
"Somehow or other I can't help thinking that Carolina will get that horse in spite of you. Barney, do go and see what time it is! This is the third time I've been down here to wait for this mean train!"
"Yonder she comes now. Only three hours and fifteen minutes late. That's not so bad, Aunt Angie. When she tries, she can tardy herself up a heap mo' than that!"
Mrs. La Grange anxiously scanned the shabby coaches for a sight of her daughter's blooming face. Peachie jumped from the car steps and ran to her mother's arms. They kissed each other like two lovers who had been parted for years.
"Have you had a pleasant week, darling baby?" asked her mother.