“Yes’m,” Lucy agreed, “but yoh ain’t got no call to be runnin’ out in the sun that a-way. Little ladies like you is, should be takin’ their ease and havin’ Lucy fannin’ ’em with a pa’m leaf when it’s so hot. ’Deed, it would sure be a good thing foh that imp Itty what takes care o’ Miss Harry to have some wo’k. They says ole Satan always finds some mischief foh idle hands, an’ I reckon it’s the same with tongues. That Itty certainly done talk like she ain’t got nothin’ else to do, ’ceptin’ ’t is slanderin’ folks.” “What’s the matter with Itty?” asked Dorothea, knowing the question was expected of her, though in reality her thoughts were on Lee Hendon and she was wondering if he would be able to see her signal. “She’s been braggin’ it over me ’cause she claims to be bohn a house-servant,” Lucy went on as she busied herself with Dorothea’s toilet. “An’ she say you-all ain’t real quality Confedrit like we-all is, so that it ain’t nothin’ ’t all to take care o’ yoh.” “Well, you just tell her,” Dorothea answered, laughing, “that my father’s cousin is a real live lord in England and see what she says to that.” She chuckled to herself as she thought how little Itty would be impressed if she could see the red-faced, hard-riding old aristocrat in his mud-stained pink. But she guessed that this would give Lucy the weapon she needed to use among her fellow-workers in the quarter, and Lucy’s delighted exclamations of wonder at the information confirmed this view. “Is he a sure enough, bang-up quality lord?” Lucy demanded a little skeptically, as if the news was too good to be true. “He is an earl,” Dorothea announced impressively. “My, oh my!” Lucy exclaimed, staring down at her young mistress in wonder. “Ah’ yoh ain’t never said nothin’ ’bout it till this minute. Land sakes, but won’t I tell that Itty somefin’! A Nearl! I reckon that’s ’most as fine as bein’ a President.” Dorothea laughed gayly. “I think that rather depends upon the President,” she answered. “But it’s almost as good as a King.” Dorothea’s toilet was completed in a blaze of glory, the only difficulty being that the frocks that Lucy had formerly admired became, on a sudden, scarcely magnificent enough for one who claimed so exalted a relative. After dinner Dorothea suddenly found herself alone. Miss Imogene slipped upstairs to unpack and rest after her journey. Harriot went grumblingly away with her governess. Mrs. May returned to her spinning-room and April disappeared with Val Tracy. “Now is my chance,” Dorothea said to herself, and ran to her room to put on her hat.