"You talk about your father when it is Burr--Burr--that's at stake!"
Madelon cried out. "What is your father to Burr if you love him? That
ought to go before anything else. It says so in your Bible--it says
so in your Bible, Dorothy Fair!"

Dorothy, with her innocent, frightened eyes fixed upon the other
girl's passionate face, as if she were being led by her into unknown
paths, put back the coverlet and thrust one little white foot out of
bed. Then swiftly the black woman, who had entered the room, backed
against the door as stiffly as a sentinel, darted forward, and would
have thrust her mistress into bed again, making uncouth protests the
while, had not Dorothy motioned her away with a gentle dignity, which
was hers for use when she chose.

"Go down-stairs, if you please," said she, "and see if my father is
in his study. If he is in there, and busy over his sermon, go to the
barn, and drag out the sleigh for us."

Dorothy, white and fair as an angel, in her straight linen nightgown,
stood out on the floor, in front of her great black guardian, who
made again as though she would seize her and force her back, and
pleaded with her in a thick drone, like an anxious bee, not to go.

"Do as I bid you!" said Dorothy, and glided past her to her dimity
dressing-table, and began combing out her yellow hair.

The black woman went out, muttering.

"If my father is in his study on the north side of the house, and