CHAPTER XIII
UNDER EVERY FLOWER THERE LURKS A SERPENT
“Yes; Snowball,” repeated Madame. “A quaint name, is it not? She is so black that I fancy that was the reason it was given her. She bore it when your uncle bought her. She is very bright, and a master hand at waiting upon one.”
Jeanne made no further remark but eagerly scanned the face of the darky as she entered. She was indeed very black, and her shining ivories were always visible in a smile. Good nature was written all over her countenance, but Jeanne could see no resemblance to Tenny.
“She may not be the one after all,” she mused.
“Snowball,” said Madame. “Miss Jeanne will be your young lady now. Your duty will be to attend to her and to look after her clothes while she is here.”
“Yes’m;” Snowball dropped a curtsy. “Does yer want me ter do anything now, little missy?”
“Yes; help her to dress for dinner,” replied Madame Vance speaking for Jeanne. “We dine at eight, my dear.”
Jeanne followed the black to the room which had been given her, and Snowball proceeded to brush her hair.
“Snowball,” said the girl suddenly, “was your mother named Tennessee? And did they call her Tenny for short?”