The old colored woman left her seat and walked to where a cradle stood. "Not right now, lil' lamb."
"Why not?"
"It done sleep now."
The girl turned upon her side and, crooking her arm, rested her head within it. She listened, her brow slightly wrinkled, to the rain as it beat upon the roof of the gallery.
Presently: "Why doesn't it cry, mammy?"
"Ain't I tole yer, chile, it done sleep. Ain't I tole yer?"
Downstairs the man of the house had stepped across the hall and joined a little thin old gentleman who sat close to a blazing fire.
"Doctor!"
"Yes, George."
"Remember Lillias when you gave her to me, eighteen years ago?"