Golden was silent a moment. She seemed to be thinking intently. After a moment she said gravely and sadly:
"Grandpa is old, and I am young. Who will take care of me when he is gone?"
"Your old brack mammy, I guess, honey."
"You are old, too," said Golden. "You may not live as long as I do."
"Bless the chile's heart, how she do talk," said the old negress. "Ah, my precious lamb, I has outlived dem as was younger and fairer dan ole black Dinah."
The old black face looked very sad for a moment, then Dinah continued:
"Little missie, it's my clair duty to tell old massa de sarcumstances of the case to-morrow morning. Leastwise, unless you promise me nebber to speak to dat man ag'in."
"That is very hard," sighed Golden.
"Hard," said Dinah. "I should think you would be so mad at the wilyun, a-comin' in and kissin' you so unceremonious, dat you would nebber want to speak to him any more."
Golden hid her face in the pillows, and a deep sigh fluttered over her lips.