At this moment a child's shrill screams resounded in one of the rooms above, growing louder and louder each moment.
"There—that's Aurora! Just listen to the little wretch!" exclaimed Lizzie. "That child will be the death of us yet, with her horrid yells. Her lungs must be made of cast-iron, or something harder, for she is incessantly screaming."
The Squire darted an angry look at Mrs. Gower, who faltered out: She was very sorry—that she had told Totty to be sure and keep her quiet—that she didn't know what was the matter, she was sure——
"Ring the bell!" said the squire, savagely cutting her short. The summons was answered by the little darkey, Totty.
"Well, Totty, what's the matter?" said Lizzie. "Don't you hear the baby squalling there like a little tempest? Why don't you attend to her?"
"Lor! Miss Lizzie, 'twan't none o' my fault—'deed 'twan't," said the little darkey. "Miss Roarer's a-roarin' 'cause she can't put her feet in de sugar-bowl. 'Deed I can't 'vent her, to save my precious life. Nobody can't do nothing wid dat 'ar little limb."
"I'll do something to you you won't like if you don't make her stop!" said the angry squire. "Be off with you now; and, if I hear another word, I'll—I'll twist your neck for you!"
"Marse, I declare I can't stop her," said Totty, dodging in alarm toward the door.
"Be off!" thundered the squire, in a rage, hurling a hot roll at the black head of Totty, who adroitly dodged and vanished instanter.
"Of all diabolical inventions, young ones are the worst!" snappishly exclaimed Squire Erliston, bringing down his fist on the table. "Pests! plagues! abominations! Mrs. Gower, ma'am, if you don't give it a sleeping draught when it takes to yelling, I'll—I'll—I'll——"