ather, who had been a
silent spectator of the scene, and now came forward laughing heartily at
his would-be son-in-law. "Pretty well done, Sunshine," said he. "Let's
see, how many offers does this make? Thar's Joe's one, the doctor's two;
Yankee Carmeron's three; and lubberin' Bill Jeffrey's four, and you not
quite eighteen. That'll do; that'll do!" Afterward, when Mr. Middleton
wished to entertain his visitors with anything extra, he would rehearse to
them, with some exaggerations, Bill Jeffrey's proposal to Fanny.

Glancing backward a few pages, we find we have omitted to repeat what
happened among Dr. Lacey's blacks during the days when they were anxiously
but vainly watching for the coming of their young master and his bride.
For a week Aunt Dilsey was unusually crusty, and all her attempts at
cookery invariably failed, plainly showing her mind to be in a disturbed
state.

"I don't keer," she would say, "if the cakes is all dough and the 'sarves
all froth. They's good enough for her, any day." Then she would call out,
"Get along you, Jack, pokin' your fingers into the 'lasses cup; make
yourself scarce in this kitchen, or I'll crack your head mighty nigh as
hard as the new Miss will." Then she would scold Leffie, who, she said,
"was of no more account than a burnt stick, now she was spectin' Rondeau.
Pity but the boat he come on wouldn't blow up and let 'em all into
perdition together."

Leffie knew her mother didn't mean more than half what she said, but she
chose to keep silent, hoping each morning that the close of the day would
bring the long absent Rondeau. Thus, between scolding and fretting,
cooking and sweating, Aunt Dilsey passed the time until the day arrived on
which, as she said, "they'd come if they ever did."

Mrs. Lacey, whose husband had not yet received his son's letter announcing
the catastrophe, came out to superintend affairs and receive her new
daughter. In the large, handsome dining room, the supper table was neatly
spread, while Aunt Dilsey bustled about with the air of one who felt her
time was short, but was determined to contest every inch of ground ere
yielding it to another. She had condescended to put on her new calico gown
(the one she proposed taking with her in a "handkerchief") and had even
washed the grease and molasses from Jack's and the baby's face, telling
the former that "he needn't mind about making up faces at the lady that
night."

Claib had gone to the landing, and now