"She didn said nuthin', lil Miss. She jest th'od her apron ober her face and went ter moanin'."
Natalia's lips suddenly trembled.
"Take me there, Zebby—now! I want to see her. I can't wait. Saddle the horse and go with me."
But Zebediah did not respond to her enthusiasm. He stood staring at her as if he had not comprehended her words.
"Yer cyant go ter dat house, lil Miss. Dar ain' nobody libs dar 'ceptin' Marse Everett. Dar ain' no lady fo'ks in de house."
"I don't care, Zebby," Natalia laughed. "I'm not going to see him. I'm going to see Mammy Dicey. I'll be back in a minute, so hurry and get the horses ready."
She ran up the steps on the back porch, and to her room, scattering the mass of clothes which had just been unpacked, until she found the riding habit she was looking for. Very quietly, without meeting any one, she went back to the barn where Zebediah stood holding the horses, and showing his row of fine white teeth in a smile of admiration and pleasure.
"Yer ain't er bit lak grown up fo'ks, lil Miss. Yer jest de lil gal dat went 'way frum heah long time ergo."
"I'm just the same little girl, Zebby," Natalia smiled back at him, putting her foot into his broad palm, "until you help me to mount—and then," as she settled herself in the saddle, "you'll find I've gained a pound or two."
The afternoon had advanced until the rays of sun were slanting through the trees, and as they rode along the old road, Natalia gave the horse the reins, while she drank in the beauty of the woods and open fields, and looked for landmarks that brought back with them incidents and stories. Once, she stopped before the place where the Puckett house formerly stood—now only a crumbling chimney remaining, surrounded by a grove of China trees: and again, along the brow of a hill, where there was another view of the river as it swept into a broad bend and disappeared in the fertile delta. Finally the town lay before them in its setting of beautiful trees.