Mr. Thornton said dryly: "I presume it is a little lowering to the dignity of a French chef to cook for a lot of waifs--" "Now you be careful, Mr. Thornton, or you'll go trottin' along with the cook. I'm a little bit techy about them babies--" The man flushed and rose to go. "I did not mean to offend you, Miss Doane. We are at your service. What do you want me to do?" "I want you to get me a woman cook--by the way, what did you pay that cook?" "I think, if I remember rightly, he receives a hundred and fifty dollars." Drusilla sat back in her chair aghast. "One hundred and fifty dollars a month for a cook! Elias Doane must 'a' been out of his head!" "I think that is not an exorbitant price for a cook with the reputation of this one. He was for many years with Mr. Doane." "To think of it costin' one hundred and fifty dollars a month before you got anything to eat, and all give to that fat, lazy Frenchman! If I'd 'a' knowed it, his things would 'a' choked me. And your brother talked to me about the expense of keepin' my children! Why, you git me a fat Irish woman, who likes real vittles, and who ain't above cookin' oatmeal, and pay her about fifty dollars a month, and she'll suit me and we'll be savin' enough to pay for the babies." She was quiet a moment. "You talked kind of mean about my babies, and I know you was thinkin' about my colored baby." Then, looking at him suddenly: "Did you ever see a colored baby when he's nothin' on but a little white shirt?" The lawyer shook his head stiffly. "I'm afraid my duties have not called me in the neighborhood of colored babies dressed only in white shirts." "Well," said Drusilla, "you've missed a lot. But I'm goin' to begin your education right away. It's just bedtime. You come with me." And before the astonished lawyer could voice his protest he was being hurried down the hall and up the wide stairs to the big nursery, Drusilla pattering along at his side, talking all the time. "You know every one wonders why I keep this little Rastus--the doctor give him that name--but I keep him just to make me laugh. Some of the other babies make me want to cry, they're so sickly and puny, but you can't cry at Rastus. He's goin' away next week to some people who'll take him till he's old enough to go to that big colored school that's run by Mr. Washington, where I'm goin' to see that he's made a man of, and show people what's in a little black boy. But just look at him--here he is!" She led the way down the long room, lined with beds on each side, to where a girl was preparing a very happy black baby for bed. As Drusilla said, he was clothed only in a little white shirt; and as his plump body lay over the nurse's lap he exposed to view a very fat little back and a pair of dimpled legs that were kicking in evident enjoyment of the rubbing his back was receiving at the hands of the nurse. The lawyer stopped at the nurse's side and watched the baby for a moment. Then he broke into a jolly laugh.