His high-bred old
face was quite inscrutable, but presently he said in a serious voice:
"Peter occupies a position of trust with me, Rose."
"Yeah," mumbled Rose; "I see you trus' him."
"One day he is going to do me a service, a very great service, Rose."
The hag continued looking at him with a stubborn expression.
"You know better than any one else, Rose, my dread of some--some
unmannerly death--"
The old woman made a sound that might have meant anything.
"And Peter has promised to stay with me until--until the end."
The old negress considered this solemn speech, and then grunted out:
"Which en'?"
"Which end?" The Captain was irritated.
"Yeah; yo' en' or Peter's en'?"
"By every law of probability, Peter will outlive me."
"Yeah, but Peter 'll come to a en' wid you when he ma'ies dat stuck-up
yellow fly-by-night, Cissie Dildine."
"He's not going to marry her," said the Captain, comfortably.
"Huh!"
"Peter told me he didn't intend to marry Cissie Dildine."
"Shu! Then whut fur dey go roun' peepin' at each other lak a couple o'
niggers roun' a haystack?"
The old lawyer was annoyed.
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