“Why, Mammy! Why did n't you come on the train I wrote you to come on?” enquired Graeme.
“Well, you tole me to come to-day, and I thought I would like to be on time, so I came this morning.”
“Now, if you will let me have your tickets, I will attend to everything for you,” said the porter to Graeme.
The old woman gave him a swift glance, and then seeing Graeme hand him his ticket, she turned her back, and began to fish in some mysterious recess in her garments, and after a long exploration brought out a small bag containing her ticket.
“Is he one of your servants!” she asked Graeme in an undertone.
Graeme smiled. “Well, I think he is—he is everybody's servant and friend.”
“I did n't know. He comes roun' inquirin' 'bout my business so officious I thought sure he was one o' dese Gov'ment folks, and I done had 'nough to do wid dat kind.”
“Like Amos Brown, Caesar's friend.”
It was a sore subject with the old woman.
“Well, I did n't know—I thought he was one o' dese perliss. So I sent him 'long 'bout he own business. But if you know him it 's all right.”