On this scene entered Caleb Trench, grave, somewhat weary, and with a new stern look that came from a night’s wrestle with his own will. “What’s all this, Aunt Charity?�
“Ain’t noffin,� said she aggressively; “I’se sweepin’. I ain’t doin’ noffin an’ I ain’t gwine ter do noffin to dat pore white trash.�
“Yes, you will,� said Caleb calmly; “you’ll give him a bath and put some decent clothes on him.�
“N-o-o-o-o-o!� shrieked Sammy.
“’Deed I ain’t!� retorted Aunt Charity, with indignation. “Ain’t dat Jean Bartlett’s chile?�
Trench nodded, looking from the old black woman to the small aggressive bundle on the floor. Aunt Charity tossed her head. “I ain’t gwine ter touch him!�
A sudden fierce light shone in Caleb’s gray eyes, a light that had a peculiarly quelling effect on the beholder. Aunt Charity met it and cowered, clasping her broom. “You’ll do what I say,� he replied, without raising his voice.
“Fo’ de Lawd!� gasped Aunt Charity and whimpered; “yo’ sho ain’t gwine ter keep dat chile heah?�
“And why not?� asked Caleb.
“Lawsy me, suh, ain’t yo’ gwine ter know w’at folks’ll say? Dere’s gwine ter be a talkation.�