“Very well,” said Mrs. Meriwether, relenting somewhat; “I will tell her to do so. I will tell her to make you a good cake. When do you want it?”
“Thank you m'm. Yes, m'm; ef you 'll gi' me a right good-sized cake—an'—a loaf or two of flour-bread—an'—a ham, I 'll be very much obleeged to you. I heah she 's a mighty good cook?”
“She is,” said Mrs. Meriwether; “the best I 've had in a long time.” She had not caught the tone of interrogation in his voice, nor seen the shrewd look in his face, as I had done. Jabez appeared well satisfied.
“I 'm mighty glad to heah you give her sech a good character; I heahed you 'd do it. I don' know her very well.”
Mrs. Meriwether looked up quickly enough to catch his glance this time.
“Jabez—I know nothing about her character,” she began coldly. “I know she has a vile temper; but she is an excellent cook, and so long as she is not impudent to me, that is all I want to know.”
Jabez bowed approvingly.
“Yes, 'm; dat 's right. Dat 's all I want t' know. I don' keer nothin' 'bout de temper; atter I git 'em, I kin manage 'em. I jist want t' know 'bout de char-àcter, dat 's all. I did n' know her so well, an' I thought I 'd ax you. I tolt her ef you 'd give her a good char-àcter, she might suit me; but I 'd wait fer de cake—an' de ham.”
His mistress rose to her feet.
“Jabez, do you mean that you have spoken to that woman already!”