"Ay, dat not de consent I surposes. You wouldn't t'ink, Neb, ongrateful feller, to get marry, widout first askin' do consent of Masser Mile, I _do_ surpose! You, who has been his own waiter so long, and has gone to sea wid him so often; and has saved his life; and has helped kill so many hateful saverges; and has been on a desert conternent wid him." "I nebber told you dat, Chloe--I said on an island." "Well, what's the differ? You cannot tell me anyt'ing of edercation, Neb; for I hab hear Miss Grace and Miss Lucy say deir lesson so often, dat I sometime surposes I can say 'em all, one by one, almost as well as my young lady, 'emselves. No, Neb; on _dat_ subjeck better be silent. You been much too busy, ebber to be edercated; and, if I _do_ marry you, remember I now tell you, I shall not enter into mattermony wid you on account of any edercation you hab." "All Clawbonny say dat we can make as good a couple, Chloe, as ebber stood up togedder." "All Clawbonny don't know much of mattermony, Neb. People talks inderskrimernaterly, and doesn't know what dey says, too often. In de fuss place my modder, my own born modder, upposes our uner, and dat is a great differculty to begin wid. When a born modder upposes, a darter ought to t'ink sebberal time." "Let me speak to Masser Mile; he'll fetch up her objeckshun wid a round turn." "What dat, Neb?" "It mean Masser will _order_ her to consent." "Dat nebber saterfy my conscience, Neb. We be nigger dat true; but no Clawbonny master ebber tell a Clawbonny slabe to get marry, or not to get marry, as he choose. Dat would be intollabull, and not to be supported! No; mattermony is religion; and religion free. No colour' young lady hab vergin affeckshun, to t'row 'em away on just whom her masser say. But, Neb, dere one odder differculty to our uner dat I don't know--sometime, I feel awful about it!" As Chloe now spoke naturally, for the first time. Neb was evidently startled; and I had sufficient amusement, and sufficient curiosity, to remain stationary in order to hear what this new obstacle might be. The voice of the negress was music itself; almost as sweet as Lucy's; and I was struck with a slight tremor that pervaded it, as she so suddenly put an end to all her own affectation of sentiment, and nipped her airs and graces, as it might be, in the bud. "Nebber talk to me of mattermony, Neb," Chloe continued, almost sobbing as she spoke, "while Miss Grace be in dis berry bad way! It hard enough to see her look so pale and melercholy, widout t'inking of becomin' a wife." "Miss Grace will grow better, now Masser Mile carry her on de water. If he only take her to sea, she get so fat and hearty, no libbin' wid her!"