"And don't stop more than an hour in the kitchen to talk to Leffie. Do you understand?" continued the doctor.
"Oh, yes, I won't," said Rondeau, extending his mouth into a broad grin at his master's allusion to Leffie, a bright-looking, handsome, mulatto girl, whom next to himself, Rondeau thought was the prettiest creature in the world.
At last he bowed himself out of the room, and proceeded to execute his master's commands. On passing the kitchen, he "just looked in a little," and the sight of Leffie's bright eyes and rosy lips made him forgetful of his promise. Going up to her, he announced his intention of kissing her. A violent squabble ensued, in which the large china dish which Leffie held in her hand was broken, two pickle jars thrown down, chairs upset, the baby scalded, and the dog Tasso's tail nearly crushed! At last Aunt Dilsey, the head cook and [pg 106] mother of Leffie, interposed, and seizing the soup ladle as the first thing near her, she laid about her right and left, dealing no very gentle blows at the well-oiled hair of Rondeau, who was glad to beat a retreat from the kitchen, amid the loud laughter of the blacks who had witnessed the scene.
Leaving the house he was soon on his way to the post office, and having procured his master's mail he started for home. At length, slackening his pace, he took from his pocket the letters and carefully scrutinized the inscription of each. He was in the habit of going to the post office, and after his master's return from Kentucky, he had noticed two or three letters written in what he called "a mighty fineified hand," and he had whispered to Leffie as a great secret that "'twere his private opinion marster was going to marry some Kentucky girl." Recently he had noticed the absence of those letters, and also the absence of his master's accustomed cheerfulness. Rondeau was pretty keen, and putting the two circumstances together, he again had a whispered conference with Leffie, whom he told that "most probably the Kentucky girl had flunked, for marster hadn't had a letter in ever so long, and every time he didn't get one he looked as blue as a whetstone!"
"Glad on't," said Leffie. "Hope he won't have any your foreigners. Allus did wish he'd have Miss Mortimer. Next to old marster and young marster Lacey, her father's the toppinest man in New Orleans. And it's a pity for young marster to stoop."
After examining all the letters closely, Rondeau came to the conclusion that the right one wasn't there, and he thought, "Well, Leffie'll be glad, and marster'll be sorry, and hang me if I ain't sorry too, for marster's a plaguey fine chap, and desarves anybody there is in Kentucky."
Meanwhile Dr. Lacey was anxiously awaiting Rondeau's return, and when he caught sight of him, coming at an unusually rapid pace toward the house, he thought, "Surely Rondeau would never hurry so if he had not good news for me," but the next thought was, "How should he know what it is I am so anxious to get?" Still he waited rather impatiently for Rondeau to make his appearance. In a moment he entered the room, and commenced pulling the letters from his pocket, saying, "I've got a heap this time, marster."
He then laid them one by one on the marble dressing table, counting them as he did so; "Thar's one, thar's two, thar's three, thar's four."
"Stop counting them, can't you, and give me all you have [pg 107] directly," said Dr. Lacey, as his eye ran hurriedly over the superscription of each, and found not the one he sought.
"That's jist what I've done, marster," said Rondeau, bowing. "The one you want wasn't thar."