“Oh, Luddy!” cried the girl, reaching out for the miniature.
“’T is not done, but I’ll see to ’t that you get it this evening,” exclaimed Charles.
The girl turned and fled toward the house, closely followed by Sukey.
“Peg she come to de kitchen foh youse,” the cook explained; “an’ ’cause I dun see youse go out de back do’, I specks whar youse gwine, an’ I sens her back to say dat young missus helpin’ ole Sukey, an’ be in pretty quick, an’ so dey never know.”
“Oh, Sukey, you’re a dear!”
“But, missy dear, doan youse do nuthin’ foolish ’bout dat fellah, ’cause I ’se helped youse. Doan youse—”
“Of course I won’t,” asserted the girl. “I could n’t, Sukey. You know I couldn’t.”
“Dat ’s right, honey. Ole Sukey knows she can trust youse. Now run right along, chile.”
“What have you been doing, Janice?” asked her mother, as the girl entered the parlour.
“I’ve been in the kitchen with Sukey, mommy,” replied Janice. And if there was wrong in the quibble, both father and mother were equally to blame with the girl, for “Ole Sukey” was actually better able to enter into her feelings and thoughts than either of them; and where obedience is enforced from authority and not from sympathy and confidence, there will be secret deceit, if not open revolt.