A woman and a girl stepped into the room. John and Potter sprang up with the quick impulse of courtesy's sudden demand, and offered them seats. Alf put down his fiddle, and bowing, gave the visitors a grinning welcome.
"Where are your women folks?" the elder visitor inquired.
"We have none, madam," Potter replied, "except this girl, the daughter of this old——"
"Servant o' the Lawd," Alf interjected.
"This servant of the Lord," Potter smilingly repeated, "who assists us in tending our crop, and who is——"
"Erbout de bes' cook in dis yere neighborhood," Alf again broke in.
"My daughter Eva and I were passing," said the woman, "and having noticed for some time that this old house was again inhabited, decided to stop and investigate. We live about five miles from here, on the Sunset road. I am Mrs. Lucy Forest, widow of Henry Forest, who died several years ago. You have heard of him, of course."
"I am a comparative stranger in this neighborhood," Potter replied.
"I ricolleck seein' him," John remarked. "Uster have something to do with the Sunday-school at Mt. Pleasant. Alf knowed him, too, I reckon."
"Lawd bless me, yas," Alf exclaimed. "I dug de man's grave."