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Updated: June 24, 2025
Mima's manners were all that politeness could require, but he felt as if she resented his coming even to his own, and he knew that mammy looked upon him as an interloper. Mima kept up well, only the paleness of her face showed what she felt at leaving her home. Her voice was calm and impassive, only once it trembled, when she wished that he would be as happy in the house as she had been.
The smallest child gave an instinctive push over his forehead at the remark, and Zephaniah added, "He's as round and yellow as a punkin!" "He looked stiddy to Dorcas all the time," said 'Mima, roguishly. "Now you shet up, you silly child!" said Dorcas, with the dignity of a twelve-month's seniority.
"You would not remember me as Bartley Northcope, unless you were familiar with the very undignified sobriquet with which your brother nicknamed me," said the young man smiling. "Nickname what, you are not, you can't be 'Budge'?" "I am 'Budge' or 'old Budge' as Phil called me." Mima had her hand on the door-knob, but she turned with an impulsive motion and went back to him.
"She let me into my own house," he thought to himself, "with the air of granting me a favor." And then there was a step on the stair; the door opened, and Miss Mima stood before him, proud, cold, white, and beautiful. He found his feet, and went forward to meet her. "Mr. Northcope," she said, and offered her hand daintily, hesitatingly.
"Gordon was indeed a brave man. I was one of his chiefs in the fight against the Mima and Khawabir Arabs; it was in the plain of Fafa, and a very hot day.
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