ss Chris was on his
side, and he knew it.

"I don't wonder you ask, Dudley, I really don't," was her comforting
rejoinder. "Why, she actually had the face to tell me yesterday that I'd
never had any children, so I couldn't advise her. It is provoking. I
don't pretend to deny it."

Dudley took up his hat and carefully examined the inside lining. "Well,
I'll settle it," he said at last, and went out.

The next day, when Eugenia went upstairs from dinner, she found Delphy
in a nurse's cap and apron, installed in a low chair before the fire,
jolting the baby on her knees with a peculiar rhythmic motion.

Eugenia fell back, regarding her with blank amazement. "Why, Delphy,
where did you come from?" she exclaimed. "I didn't know you were in
service. Whom are you nursing for?"

Delphy responded with a passive nod. "I'se nussin' for Marse Dudley,"
she retorted.

"But I don't want a nurse, Delphy. I take care of the baby myself. I
like to do it."

Delphy kept up her drowsy jolting, shaking at the same time an
unrelenting head. "Go 'long wid you, honey," she returned. "I ain' oner
yo' new-come niggers. I'se done riz mo' chillun den you'se got teef in
yo' haid, en I ain' gwine ter have Marse Dudley's chile projecked wid
'fo' my eyes. You ain' no mo' fitten ter nuss dis chile den Marse
Dudley hisse'f is."

"O Delphy!" gasped Eugenia reproachfully. She made a dart at the baby,
but he raised a shrill protest, which caused her hopelessly to desist.
"O Delphy, you've come between us!" she cried.

"I 'low ef I hadn't you'd 'a' run plum crazy," was Delphy's
justification. "Dis yer chile's my bizness, en yourn it's down yonder in
de parlour wid Marse Dudley."

Eugenia wavered and stood irresolute. Delphy's authority, rooted in
superior knowledge, appeared to be unshakable, but she made a last
desperate effort. "Suppose he should get sick without me, Delphy?"

Delphy positively snorted. "Ef you wanter raise dis yer chile, Miss
Euginny," she replied, "you'd des better let me alont. Hit's a won'er
you ain' been de deaf er him 'fo' I got yer wid yo' sto' physicks en yo'
real doctahs es dunno one baby f'om anur when dey meet 'im in de street.
I reckon, ef he'd got de colic you'd have kilt 'im terreckly, you en yo'
sto' physicks en yo' real doctahs! Now, you'd des better dress yo'se'f
an' go down yonder ter de parlour."

But as she finished Dudley strolled in and stood beaming down upon his
offspring as it lay, round and pinkly