"Lor bress ye, honey, chile!" she
said, turning to Mary, "why, ye looks like a new rose, ebery bit! Don't
wonder _somebody_ was allers pryin' an' spyin' about here!"
"How is your Mistress, Candace?" said Mrs. Scudder, by way of changing
the subject.
"Well, porly,--rader porly. When Massa Jim goes, 'pears like takin' de
light right out her eyes. Dat ar' boy trains roun' arter his mudder like
a cosset, he does. Lor', de house seems so still widout him!--can't a
fly scratch his ear but it starts a body. Missy Marvyn she sent down,
an' says, would you an' de Doctor an' Miss Mary please come to tea dis
arternoon."
"Thank your mistress, Candace," said Mrs. Scudder; "Mary and I will
come,--and the Doctor, perhaps," looking at the good man, who had
relapsed into meditation, and was eating his breakfast without taking
note of anything going on. "It will be time enough to tell him of it,"
she said to Mary, "when we have to wake him up to dress; so we won't
disturb him now."
To Mary the prospect of the visit was a pleasant one, for reasons which
she scarce gave a definite form to.
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