She looked at his countenance and saw that it was radiant.
"I can endure anything now," he said. "You love me, Daisy—can it be true? I will go in with you—and I will wait. But not too long, my sweetheart; do not make me wait too long. Repent your confession, indeed! If you do, it will be from no fault of mine. Daisy!"
As he said these things they were gradually nearing the piazza, where the negro was taking in the chairs.
"I have something pleasant to tell you," whispered Daisy. "You don't like Hannibal. Well, he is going away soon."
Roseleaf assumed surprise.
"Has your father discharged him?" he asked.
"No, he intends to leave of his own accord. He believes himself fitted for better work. Hush! He may hear you."
As they passed the servant, Daisy said, "Good-evening, Hannibal." It was her invariable custom, and she spoke with the greatest courtesy. But in this case the negro did not raise his eyes, nor turn his head toward her, nor make the slightest sign to show that he heard.
It was too much for Roseleaf, and he stopped.
"Did you hear Miss Daisy address you?" he demanded, sharply.