“Like it, Plato?”
“Yessuh! It was de mos’ circumspecklar dancin’ I ever see, suh, it sho was. I ain’t seen nuffin like it since de circus. But Mirandy Parsons, de collud girl dat works at Miz Carter’s, she says dere was terr’ble goings-on dere ’bout dis yere dance. She ’lowed Mist’ Carter mos’ throw a fit.”
Colonel Denbigh took off his hat and ran his fingers through his white hair.
“It was a great dance, Plato, a great dance.” He shook with silent laughter. “Some of the weaker brethren had to leave, though.”
“Dey sho did, suh! I met de Baptist minister comin’ out, an’ de ladies was wid him. Dey was sayin’ something ’bout dat dance in de Bible, an’ ’bout John de Baptist’s head on a charger. Seems like he took it hard—I don’t mean John de Baptist, but de minister. Done paid five dollahs fo’ his sittin’, an’ couldn’t set out no five dollahs’ worth. Dat’s what got him mad, suh, it sho was.”
The colonel shouted with laughter.
“He got more than five dollars’ worth out of that dance, Plato! There’s Miss Jinny now,” he added, glancing down the driveway. “You go and help her out with her packages.”
The old wagonette had entered the gateway, and Plato hurried off across the lawn; but the horses stopped short, and Virginia got out, meeting some one who had entered from the opposite direction. The colonel, well in the shade of his horse-chestnut, removed his cigar from his mouth. He was startled. The visitor was William Carter.
While Plato was taking a number of small packages from the wagonette, the pair greeted each other in the sunlit space of the old driveway. Something in their faces made the colonel rise silently and deftly beat a retreat. He passed behind the old box hedge and made his way back to the house.
“I reckon they’d like to have it out by themselves,” he thought.