“Of course I’m right, Ezry,” observed Grandma, crisply. “And packed off she’ll be in short order, or I miss _my_ guess.”
“It seems to me Sophia will want to do what’s right by her only sister’s adopted child,” was Mrs. Brown’s gentle suggestion, while Doris cried quietly, with her head buried in the sofa pillow.
“Seems to me, Emmeline,” Grandma countered, briskly, “you’d orter know Sophi’ Spellman better by this time. She’s her granther Spellman over again; anybody outside the family connection was allers the dirt under his feet, in a manner of speakin’. Stella’s a good gal, an’ a smart gal, but she’s no kin to Sophi’ that I know of. An’ furthermore, she ain’t even white folks, an’ no Spellman by birth and nater could put up with that—not if she had the parts of an angel. Jest you wait an’ see.”
And, as usual, Grandma had the last word.
It was on the very day after the funeral that Miss Sophia had an unexpected caller, in the person of Cynthia’s father, the proprietor of the largest dry-goods and grocery store in Laurel. She privately wondered what he had come for, but received him with a civility as chilling as the atmosphere of her shrouded “best room,” and as unbending as the tall, spare figure in its gloom of unrelieved black.
Mr. Parker was a man of business, and went straight to the point.
“I hope you’ll excuse my calling so soon, ma’am! I should be very sorry to intrude, but the fact is, I am particularly interested in—ah!—in a present member of your family.”
Here Miss Sophia visibly stiffened, and the gentleman cleared his throat, and made a fresh beginning.
“If I may be allowed to refer to the prospects of your—ahem! of the late Mrs. Waring’s charge, I understand that it is proposed to—that her return to Dakota is—ah!—under consideration?”
“As to Stella,” reluctantly responded Miss Sophia, “I do not quite see—begging your pardon, Mr. Parker—why my plans for the girl should be of particular interest to my neighbors. However, I have no objection to answering your question. Stella is sixteen—quite old enough to go to work, and, thanks to my sister’s possibly mistaken kindness, has a far better education than either her antecedents or her circumstances call for. It is high time, in my opinion, that she was getting in touch with her own people, and becoming accustomed to their mode of life, to which she has so long been a stranger.