Dr. Lacey glanced hastily at his servant, and felt assured that the quick-witted negro was in possession of his secret. "You may go," said he, "and mind, never let me hear of your commenting about my letters."
"No, marster, never; 'strue's I live," said Rondeau, who left the room and went in quest of Leffie. But he did not dare to repeat the scene of the morning, for Aunt Dilsey was present, bending over a large tub of boiling suds, and he felt sure that any misdemeanor on his part would call forth a more affectionate shower bath than he cared about receiving. So he concluded to bring about his purpose by complimenting Aunt Dilsey on her fine figure (she weighed just two hundred!).
"Aunt Dilsey," said he, "'pears to me you have an uncommon good form, for one as plump and healthy-like as you are."
Aunt Dilsey was quite sensitive whenever her size was alluded to, and she replied rather sharply: "You git along, you bar's ile skullcap. 'Twon't be healthy for you to poke fun at me."
"'Pon my word," said the mischievous Rondeau, "I ain't poking fun at you. I do really think so. I thought of it last Sunday, when you had on that new gown, that becomes you so well."
"Which one?" said Aunt Dilsey, a little mollified, "the blue and yaller one?"
"The same," answered Rondeau. "It fits you good. Your arm looks real small in it."
Leffie was nearly convulsed with laughter, for she had tried the experiment, and found that the distance round her mother's arm was just the distance round her own slender waist.
"Do tell!" said Aunt Dilsey, stopping from her work and wiping the drops of perspiration from her shining forehead. "Do tell! It feels drefful sleek on me, but my old man Claib says it's too tight."
"Not an atom too tight," answered Rondeau, at the same time getting nearer and nearer to Leffie, and laying his hand on her shoulder.