Near the end of this sentence old Williams had come front to front with Johnson. He gasped for a second, and then yelled the yell of a man stabbed in the heart.

For a fraction of a moment Trescott seemed to be looking for epithets. Then he roared: “You old black chump! You old black——Shut up! Shut up! Do you hear?”

Williams obeyed instantly in the matter of his screams, but he continued in a lowered voice: “Ma Lode a’ massy! Who’d ever think? Ma Lode a’ massy!”

Trescott spoke again in the manner of a commander of a battalion. “Alek!”

The old negro again surrendered, but to himself he repeated in a whisper, “Ma Lode!” He was aghast and trembling.

As these three points of widening shadows approached the golden doorway a hale old negress appeared there, bowing. “Good-evenin’, docteh! Good-evenin’! Come in! come in!” She had evidently just retired from a tempestuous struggle to place the room in order, but she was now bowing rapidly. She made the effort of a person swimming.

“Don’t trouble yourself, Mary,” said Trescott, entering. “I’ve brought Henry for you to take care of, and all you’ve got to do is to carry out what I tell you.” Learning that he was not followed, he faced the door, and said, “Come in, Henry.”

Johnson entered. “Whee!” shrieked Mrs. Williams. She almost achieved a back somersault. Six young members of the tribe of Williams made a simultaneous plunge for a position behind the stove, and formed a wailing heap.

XIII

“You know very well that you and your family lived usually on less than three dollars a week, and now that Dr. Trescott pays you five dollars a week for Johnson’s board, you live like millionaires. You haven’t done a stroke of work since Johnson began to board with you—everybody knows that—and so what are you kicking about?”

The judge sat in his chair on the porch, fondling his cane, and gazing down at old Williams, who stood under the lilac-bushes. “Yes, I know, jedge,” said the negro, wagging his head in a puzzled manner. “’Tain’t like as if I didn’t ’preciate what the docteh done, but—but—well, yeh see, jedge,” he added, gaining a new impetus, “it’s—it’s hard wuk. This ol’ man nev’ did wuk so hard. Lode, no.”

“Don’t talk such nonsense, Alek,” spoke the judge, sharply. “You have never really worked in your life—anyhow, enough to support a family of sparrows, and now when you are in a more prosperous condition than ever before, you come around talking like an old fool.”

The negro began to scratch his head. “Yeh see, jedge,” he said at last, “my ol’ ’ooman she cain’t ’ceive no lady callahs, nohow.”

“Hang lady callers!” said the judge, irascibly. “If you have flour in the barrel and meat in the pot, your wife can get along without receiving lady callers, can’t she?”

“But they won’t come ainyhow, jedge,” replied Williams, with an air of still deeper stupefaction. “Noner ma wife’s frien’s ner noner ma frien’s ’ll come near ma res’dence.”

“Well, let them stay home if they are such silly people.”

The old negro seemed to be seeking a way to elude this argument, but evidently finding none, he was about to shuffle meekly off. He halted, however. “Jedge,” said he, “ma ol’ ’ooman’s near driv’ abstracted.”