Cousin Maude - Page 135/138

These were no idle words, for, as well as she could, she kept her

promise; and though she often committed errors, she usually tried to

do the thing which her children would approve. After a day or two

Mr. De Vere and Maude returned to Hampton, leaving Louis with his

father, who, in his society, grew better and happier each day.

Hannah, who was growing old, went, from choice, to live with Maude,

but John would not forsake his master. Nobody knew the kinks of the

old place like himself, he said, and he accordingly stayed,

superintending the whole, and coming ere long to speak of it all as

his. It was his farm, his oxen, his horses, his everything, except

the pump which Hannah in her letter to Mauda, had designated as an

injun.

"'Twas a mighty good thing in its place," he said, "and at a fire it

couldn't be beat, but he'd be hanged if he didn't b'lieve a nigger

was made for somethin' harder and more sweaty-like than turnin' that

crank to make b'lieve rain when it didn't. He reckoned the Lord knew

what he was about, and if He was a mind to dry up the grass and the

arbs, it wasn't for Cary nor nary other chap to take the matter into

their own hands, and invent a patent thunder shower."

John reasoned clearly upon some subjects, and though his reasoning

was not always correct, he proved a most invaluable servant. Old

Hannah's place was filled by another colored woman, Sylvia, and

though John greatly admired her complexion, as being one which would

not fade, he lamented her inefficiency, often wishing that the

services of Janet Hopkins could be again secured.

But Janet was otherwise engaged; and here, near the close of our

story, it may not be amiss to glance for a moment at one who in the

commencement of the narrative occupied a conspicuous place. About

the time of Maude's blindness she had removed to a town in the

southern part of New York, and though she wrote apprising her young

mistress of the change, she forgot entirely to say where she was

going, consequently the family were ignorant of her place of

residence, until accident revealed it to J.C. De Vere.

It was but a few weeks preceding Maude's return from Europe that he found himself

compelled to spend a Sabbath in the quiet town of Fayette. Not far

from his hotel an Episcopal church reared its slender tower, and

thither, at the usual hour for service, he wended his way. There was

to be a baptism that morning, and many a smile flitted over the face

of matron and maid, as a meek-looking man came slowly up the aisle,

followed by a short, thick, resolute Scotchwoman, in whom we

recognize our old friend Janet Hopkins.