"Oh, mammy," she sobbed, "what if papa shouldn't ever love me any more!"
"Ki, chile, dat a heap ob nonsense you's talkin' now!" laughed Chloe. "Massa couldn't neber help it; not a bit; you's jes' de light ob his eyes. Dere now, don' cry no mo', but jes' eat what your ole mammy fotch fo' you."
There was some slight and temporary comfort in the assurance her mammy expressed, and the little girl found herself able, by its help, to eat sparingly of the dainties she had brought her.
"Did papa say I must stay in my rooms till I got permission to leave them?" she asked.
"No, honey, darlin', he didn't say nuffin' 't all 'bout dat; didn't gib no corrections, but jes' 'bout gibin' you what you wants to eat when you's ready fo' it. Dat don' soun' so mighty bad fo' yo' case, chile, an' I respects mass'll be comin' in 'rectly fo' to kiss an' make up."
"No," Elsie said, shaking her head and bursting into tears again, "he'll punish me first; I am quite sure of that."
"Ki, chile! ef he gwine fo' to do dat, what you 'spose he waitin' fo'?"
"I don't know," sobbed the little girl; "but I'm afraid it will be a long while before he will pet and fondle me again, or even give me a kind look or word."
"Why you tink dat, honey?"