Therewith Jane left the room and all but staggered to her own.
"She does know something," Lizzie Trott mused, as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. She completed her toilet and went down to the kitchen. A negro woman was at work there preparing supper.
"Don't burn the bread again, Mandy," she said, carelessly, her mind still occupied by the conversation just ended.
"Lawsy me! you needn't bother," the portly woman sniffed. "You may res' shore dat I won't burn it atter supper to-night, fer I'm gwine ter quit yer."
"Quit us? Why?"
The woman shrugged her fat shoulders. "Beca'se Jake done say fer me to, dat's why," she muttered. "I done promised ter love en' obey at de weddin', same es him, en' he say he done laid de law down. Dis is my las' day wid you en' t'other woman. We-all's preacher been talkin' ter Jake, en' he say you is unloadin' yo' dirt on de black race, 'case no white woman will work in dis house en' clean up atter you."
"So that is it," Lizzie Trott said, unrebelliously. "Well, well, I sha'n't plead with you." And with a haughty step she turned from the room.
There was nowhere to go that evening, and it happened that no visitors came, so Lizzie felt quite lonely. Even Jane's companionship was denied her, for Jane remained in her room with the door shut. She hadn't come down to supper, having answered to the call with the remark that she was not hungry and was feeling no better.
Ten o'clock came, eleven, twelve. Lizzie stepped out into the front yard and looked up at Jane's window to see if there was a light. The room was dark, and even the blinds were drawn down.
"Something really must be wrong," Lizzie speculated, dejectedly. "She is not at herself. She is imagining things. All that chatter about knowing something that I don't know may be just a crazy notion."