Nannie, passing through the hall and dining room, met her in the kitchen. “Now, we want things taken care of without any nonsense, Katy. I’m from the South, Katy, and I know how things ought to be done.” “Yes, ma’am, Miss--Miss----What’s yo’ name, miss?” “I’m Mrs. Merwent.” “I mean, what’s yo’ baby name?” “My name is Anna, but my family call me Nannie.” “Nannie! Dat’s sho’ a fine name, an’ I’ll take keer o’ you, Miss Nannie. Don’t you fret any. When you doan’ like things you jes’ scold old Katy, an’ it’ll be all right.” “Well, you can begin luncheon now, and anything you can’t find you can ask me or Mrs. Winter. That’s my daughter.” “What’s her name, Miss Nannie?” “Her name is Lucy.” “Dat’s a fine name, too. All right, Miss Nannie. You jes’ run away an’ ’muse yo’se’f an’ quit studyin’ ’bout de kitchen, an’ old Katy’ll look after things. Run on now. I doan’ want you all pesterin’ ’round when I’se busy.” Nannie went upstairs to where Lucy was sewing. “The new servant has come,” she announced. “John wrote that she is just from Tennessee and has never worked in the North before. She’ll take care of us like a servant ought to. You won’t need to worry about anything now. I showed her where things were and set her to work.” Lucy continued to sew without replying. “Northerners don’t understand negroes,” went on Nannie. “If you’ll leave this Katy to me you’ll see how a servant ought to be handled. There’s no sense in having to worry over every detail in the house. That’s what negroes are for.” Yet Lucy did not speak. “What in the world’s the matter with you? Can’t you say anything?” Lucy stared at her mother for a moment in a disconcerting manner. “I don’t see what there is to say, Mother,” she answered finally. “‘Mother!’” repeated Nannie. “I declare I don’t know what has gotten into you, Lucy! You treat me like a perfect stranger. Anyone would think you had no affection whatever in your makeup to hear you.” Lucy went on sewing in silence. “Lucy!” exclaimed Nannie nervously. “What’s the matter with you? I feel like I wanted to shake you. Why don’t you talk?” “I don’t feel like talking,” said Lucy quietly. “Now, Lucy, just because we may have had an occasional little tiff or two, that’s no reason why you should be resentful and act like this. Such trifles are not worth mentioning, much less brooding over.” And Mrs. Merwent went to Lucy’s chair and bent down over her. Lucy rose hastily and left the room. In a few minutes Nannie found her in the living room. “Lucy,” Nannie began, “I don’t think you ought to treat me this way. When I make all the first advances you ought at least be ready to make up.” “I’d rather not talk about it, Mother,” insisted Lucy. “There you go again! ‘Mother’! Lucy, if you want us to be enemies instead of friends, why don’t you say so and be done with it?” “Well, aren’t we enemies?” Lucy gazed into her mother’s eyes.