"No, I ain't, an I ain't a-gwineter. I been hyar befo' she was bo'n, an' she nuvver hire me nohow. I ain't got no call to say nuffin. When I goes, I goes." Linda was silent for a moment. "But, Mammy," she said presently, "I don't feel that it is exactly right for you to do that way. If you go to town with me to see about a place, I am responsible in a measure." "No, yuh ain't. Who say I cain't go see Miss Ri? I ain't a-gwine bag an' baggage. Ef I doesn't go with yuh, I goes on Shanks's mare." "But who will get dinner to-day?" "I reckon I kin git Popsy to come in an' git it." "Well, go along and find out, for I want to get off pretty soon." Mammy put a discarded felt hat of Martin Talbot's upon her head, and an old table-cover over her shoulders, then sallied forth down the road in search of the woman whose little cabin was one of a number belonging to a negro settlement not far off. Trips to town were so infrequent upon Phebe's part, and she demanded so few afternoons out, that what she wanted was generally conceded her, and though Grace pouted and said she didn't see why both Linda and Phebe should be away at the same time, Lauretta smoothed her down by saying: "Oh, never mind, Gracie dear, I have no doubt the other servant will do very well, and we'll have a nice cosey day together. I can see to everything, and it will give me a good chance to poke around. Old Phebe is such a martinet, she won't allow me inside the kitchen when she is here." "She certainly is a regular tyrant," admitted Grace, "but no one can cook better, and I am glad to keep her, for down here it is hard to get competent servants; they are all more or less independent." "Her being away to-day won't make much difference to you and I," replied Lauretta, with careful attention to her pronoun. She was always very particular never to say you and me. "I'm not a bad cook myself, and we can try some of our own home recipes. For my part, I should think you would get rather tired of oysters and Maryland biscuits." "I do," returned Grace plaintively. "Linda doesn't always consider me in ordering. Dear Martin didn't seem to notice that until I called his attention to it." "I don't see why you didn't take up all the housekeeping at the very first," responded Lauretta. "Oh, I was so unused to it, and these Eastern Shore ways were so unfamiliar. Linda understood them much better than I. Besides, it would have taken up so much of the time I might want to be with Martin." She sighed deeply and wiped a furtive tear before going on: "Then, too," she continued, "I didn't want to neglect my friends, and it does take time to write letters. Everyone always said I was such a good correspondent, and when anyone is in trouble, that my letters are so sympathetic."