Cabell?"

And then the personage, who was, after all, cashier of the Ninth
National Bank and very busy, cut in. "Ah, yes! A well known Southern
name. Doubtless a large connection. And now Mrs.--ah--Cabell--"

"I'd be 'bleeged ef yo' jis' name me Aunt Basha, marster."

And marster, rather _intrigué_ because he, being a New Englander, had
never in his life addressed as "aunt" a person who was not sister to his
mother or his father, nevertheless became human and smiled. "Well, then,
Aunt Basha."

At a point a bit later he was again jolted when he asked the amount
which his newly adopted "aunt" wanted to invest. For an answer she
hauled high the folds of her frock, unconscious of his gasp or of the
vision's repressed laughter, and went on to attack the clean purple
alpaca petticoat which was next in rank, Mr. Davidson thought it wise at
this point to make an errand across the room. He need not have bothered
as far as Aunt Basha was concerned. When he came back she was again _à
la mode_ and held an ancient beaded purse at which she gazed. Out of a
less remote pocket she drew steel spectacles, which were put on. Mr.
Davidson repeated his question of how much.

"It's all hyer, marster. It's two hun'erd dollars, sir. I ben savin' up
fo' twenty years an' mo', and me'n Jeems, we ben countin' it every mont,
so I reckon I knows."

The man and the girl regarded the old woman a moment. "It's a large sum
for you to invest," Mr. Davidson said.