“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!”
“Well, yes, 'm; but not to say speak to her. I jes kind o' mentioned it to her as I 'd inquire as to her char-àcter.”
“And your wife has been gone—how long! Two days!”
“Well, mist'is, she 's gone fer good, ain't she!” demanded Jabez. “She can't be no mo' gone!”