With this somewhat ambiguous tirade she turned and slowly mounted the stairs. Gran’pa Eliot sat exactly as he had before, staring vacantly through the window.
Judith Eliot had been accustomed to act upon her judgment; and to act quickly, and with decision. Aunt Hyacinth was half frightened when the young lady returned and said that Elaine had attempted to bar her out of the vacant rooms, but she was going to occupy one of them, nevertheless. The black mammy was a Daring servant, having followed her nursling Wallace when he married and set up housekeeping at Riverdale. She had nursed, in turn, each of the Daring children and, therefore, was devoted to them and their interests. But Auntie could never understand the favored servant of the Eliots, and through all the years she had known Elaine had seldom exchanged a word with the white woman. Why a housekeeper should be called “Miss” Halliday and allowed to assume airs of superiority was far beyond old Hyacinth’s comprehension. But the fact impressed her with a sense of awe of Elaine which time had never dissipated.
Since the Darings had come to this house to live the two serving women had held aloof from one another as before, and the aggressive, dominant attitude of Miss Halliday held Auntie in sure subjection to her will. She never doubted that Elaine had the power to turn her precious flock out in the cold world, if she chose, and therefore took great care not to annoy her in any way.
It was not clear to her, at this juncture, whether she ought to applaud or deplore Miss Judith’s defiance of the hitherto supreme power of “ol’ Miss Hall’day,” but she willingly followed the energetic young lady up the spiral staircase to show her the vacant rooms.
The east room was sunny and bright, but poorly furnished. In one corner stood several decrepit and damaged chairs, a few old pictures and some bundles of matting. A door, closed and locked, communicated with the room back of it--the room Miss Halliday herself occupied. Aunt Hyacinth, in a whisper, called Judith’s attention to this door.
Perhaps that accounted for the desire of the old woman that Miss Eliot take the west room, which was not nearly so pleasantly situated; but the young lady promptly decided that the east room suited her best. She was accustomed to doing things for herself, and with Auntie’s help dragged the cast-off chairs and other lumber into the west room and made a selection of the best furniture from the two.
