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Aun' Sheba had lost her patience with both him and her daughter, and was expostulating vigorously. "I'se asham on you, Sissy," she said. "Wot good de 'ligion you 'fess do you, I'd like ter know? Ain't Vilet in Hebin? Ain't you got de bes husban bawn? Ain't de oder chil'n heah? Now ef you'se 'ligion any good 'tall, be quiet an tankful dat you bettah off dan hun'erds.
Dey was all agin her 'fore de ax'dent, but now I reckon dey's all cabed in, from what she says, eben ef she ain't talkin' much. I 'specs ole man Houghton is de mos' sot;" and then their anxious thoughts reverted to the sick child. "Daddy," said Vilet, when her father had finished a hymn, "I wants ter talk wid you." "Well, chile, wot you wants ter say?" "I wants you ter let me go to Hebin, daddy."
Dat orful human natur gwine to come in now an' I belebe dat folks who know you an' all 'bout you'se family will help you, 'stid ob talkin' agin you. You see. You knows I doan' mean no disrespec' to ole Missus, but she'd jes sit down an' starbe, tinkin' ob de good dinners she orter hab, an' did hab in de ole times. All you'se folks in hebin is a smilin' on you, honey.
Ef you'se hebin is in de cubud, go in dar an' hep a sef." And she rose and opened the door of the treasure-house. "I'se jes' take a leetle bite, Aun' Sheba, jes a leetle comf'tin bite, kase I'se been so sot on dat I feels bery weakly an' gone-like." Uncle Sheba was soon comforted and sleeping, but Aun' Sheba still sat by the hearth until the last glowing embers turned to ashes.
Waldo had returned to her son's room. In a few moments Miss Lou was sitting by Aun' Jinkey and tremblingly telling her fears. Meanwhile Zany scouted around to insure immunity from observation. "You po', po' chile!" groaned Aun' Jinkey. "I wuz a-hopin' dat now you hab a time ob peace en quietness, en you des gwine ter be s'pended 'twixt hebin en yearth."
"Fo' de good Lord in hebin " began the cook, in amazement; but, as the import of her young mistress's act dawned upon her, she ran to the fireplace and, catching up a log of wood, held it out to Brereton.
'Pears I couldn't go to Hebin widout you says, 'Yes, Vilet." The man's powerful frame trembled like an aspen; convulsive sobs heaved his breast as he carried the child to the further corner of the yard. At last he buried his face in her neck and whispered, "Yes, Vilet." "Dat's good an' kin' ob you, daddy. You fin' me waitin' and lookin' fer you, shuah."
She's quality yere on arth an' she gwine ter be quality in Hebin. I knows a heap 'bout you an' you'se pa. I knowd him 'fore you did. I'se seed him in de gran' ole house in Meetin' Street a dinin' agin an' agin wid Marse Wallingford an' my deah Misse Mary, den a bride, an' de gran' ole Major Buggone.
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