"I heard him speak once, don't you remember?" Natalia's eyes narrowed as if she were again reviewing that time. "It was wonderful, too. I can remember it now just as if it were yesterday."
"Dat wuzn't nothin'. He done been all ober de State now and he's cellibrated ebery whar he goes. Honey-chile, yer jes' wait tell yer heah him agin."
"It's no use, Mammy." Natalia sighed leniently. "You see I'm interested in only one man now, and as I'm going to be married next week, I don't believe it's proper for me to listen to the praises of another as you are singing them."
Rising, with her arm still about Dicey, she walked slowly to the door.
"You see how dark it is getting. You have almost made me forget that Morgan will be waiting for me and wondering where I am. Tell him, though, Mammy—your Marse Sargent—that he must come out to see me to-morrow, and be sure to make him promise to let me have you. I am not going away without you."
"He's away on er speakin' trip now. He won't be back fer er week."
"So he will not be here for my wedding!" Natalia frowned with evident disappointment. "Then I must write him about you at once."
Dicey stared at Natalia a moment, and then drawing her face down until it rested on her bosom, she kissed her as she used to do, on the top of her head, in the wide part.
"Listen, honey-chile," she whispered, halting at the door, with the old strange look of visions in her eyes. "Does yer 'member de night yer axed Mammy to fin' picters in de fire fer yer?"
"Of course I remember, Mammy," Natalia answered from the steps. "You always were finding them for me. Do you do it still?"