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This allusion to her size changed the current of Aunt Dilsey’s wrath, which now turned and spent itself on Rondeau. Her impression of Julia, however, never changed, although she was not called upon to run away. Mrs.
On the morning following the party, her patience was severely taxed in two ways. First, Claib, her husband, had adhered to his resolution of sleeping over, and long after the clock struck eleven he was sleeping profoundly. He had resisted all Aunt Dilsey’s efforts to rouse him.
Leffie answered him by a sound box on his ear, at the same time threatening to expose his wickedness at the next class meeting. Aunt Dilsey’s voice was now heard calling out, "Leffie, Leffie, is you stun deaf and blind now that fetched Rondeau’s done gone home? Come here this minute!"
"Lord, Dilsey, I’d like to have seen you there; but then there wouldn’t have been room for anybody else, for the hall wouldn’t more than hold you." Here the conversation ended, but for a long time Rondeau carried on his arm the marks of Aunt Dilsey’s finger and thumb. From the grassy hillside and bright green plains of Kentucky the frosts of winter were gone.
"I hain’t got nothin’ else, Miss Leffie Lacey, if you please," said Rondeau, snapping his fingers in her face, and giving Aunt Dilsey’s elbow a slight jostle, just enough to spill the oil, with which she was filling a lamp. "Rondeau, I ’clar’ for’t," said Aunt Dilsey, setting down her oil can. "If marster don’t crack your head, my old man Claib shall, if he ever gits up agin.
"No, sir; Miss Mabel is bad enough, but she can’t hold a candle to this one," answered Rondeau. "You don’t mean Miss July," shrieked rather than asked Aunt Dilsey. "I don’t mean nobody else, mother Dilsey," said Rondeau. Up flew Aunt Dilsey’s hands in amazement, and up rolled her eyes in dismay.
The second day after Julia’s arrival, as she was strolling through the yard, she encountered Jackson, a bright little fellow, three years of age, and Aunt Dilsey’s only son. Jack, as he was usually called, was amusing himself by seeing how far he could spit! Unfortunately he spit too far, and hit Miss Julia’s pink muslin. In an instant her white, slender fingers were buried in his wool.
Fanny was prepared to like everything, but there was something peculiarly pleasing to her in Aunt Dilsey’s broad, good-humored face. Going up to her she took both her hands, and said, "I know we shall be good friends. I shall like you and you shall love me a little, won’t you, just as the old aunties did I left in Kentucky?"
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