“Yessuh, so Miss Jinny tole me. Great trial, suh! Mirandy, Miz Carter’s collud girl, she ’phoned me ’bout it. She say she got so excited she went out in de yard an’ killed the wrong hen fo’ dinner. She killed de bes’ layer dey got, an’ Mist’ Carter he mos’ throw a fit. She say he’s gwine to make Mist’ Wilyum git a divorcement——”
“Plato,” bellowed the colonel, “how often have I got to tell you to stop gossiping? You quit it and get my dinner ready, or I’ll kill you instead of Mrs. Carter’s hen! Hear me?”
Plato giggled disgracefully, but he retired toward the dining-room door.
“Colonel Colfax he used to say——”
“Shut up!” shouted Colonel Denbigh, making for the stairs.
Plato withdrew slowly, still mumbling, and the colonel went up to Virginia’s room. He hesitated an instant, and then he knocked at the door.
“Got a bad headache, Jinny?”
She answered without opening the door.
“Very bad, grandpa. Don’t wait dinner—I don’t want any.”
“I’ll ’phone for Dr. Barbour,” he suggested anxiously. “How about it, Jinny?”