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.