"I hope you'll soon get well, and when you do, we'll go fox-hunting, you and papa and I. Won't that be fun?"
"I don't know," I answered, from the inside of the room. "Oh, yes, it will be fun for you and your father."
The negro took hold of the door as if impatient to shut it, and I looked at him hard enough, I thought, to have bored him through, but, giving me simply the heed of his slow wink, he continued to stand there.
"Of course, you can ride a horse," she said; and quickly she added: "Gracious alive, Washington, don't look at me that way. Good-bye, Mr. Belford."
The negro closed the door. "Damn it, man, what do you mean?" I cried. "Confound you, can't you see—"
"Sir," he said, standing over me with his arms folded, "do you know what you are saying?"
"Yes, I do, and I want to tell you right now, and once for all, that I appreciate your kindness, but will not submit to your insolence. Do you understand?"
"I hear you, Sir."
"But do you understand; that's the question?"
"I understand, but you don't," he said. "Now, listen to me. There is the noblest young woman in the world; when she was a child I was her horse, the black beast who delighted to do her bidding. I know her—I know she is hungry for someone to talk to. Now, do you understand?"