"That will be fine. I'll bring him something to eat." A further courtesy occurred to Virginia. "Would you let him know, please, that I waited to be sure that he was as comfortable as possible?"

"That has been done," the nurse told her. "When I was up stairs I explained to him that you were waiting, in almost your very words."

The curiosity of her s.e.x beset the mill owner's daughter. "Did he say anything about it?" she questioned.

Great merriment, promptly subdued, shook the nurse. "I should hardly call it 'anything.' Of course, I could not question him in his condition. I caught two words. Perhaps I misunderstood them."

"What were they?"

"He said"--again the nurse was shaken by concealed amus.e.m.e.nt--"something which sounded to me like"--she hesitated to regain control of her feelings--"Some chicken."

"Poor fellow," sympathized compa.s.sionate Virginia. "He is hungry.

Serena fries chicken deliciously, and he shall have some of it." As she hurried away, she wondered what it was that had amused the nurse so much that she could not overcome a final outburst.

CHAPTER VI

IKE EXPLAINS

Obadiah Dale gave unusual thought to his daughter during a period following the minstrel parade. This attention was due primarily to the appearance of Virginia as a seeming part of the pageant. It was due secondarily, and consequently in ever increasing force as the minutes pa.s.sed, to the girl's unexplained delay in returning home to lunch.

Immediately upon his arrival, Obadiah had attempted to elicit from Serena all information in her possession concerning orphans and minstrels. His approach to the subject was craftily obscured.

"I don't see the car. Virginia not home, yet?"

"Yas'r. She orter bin back er long time ergo." From Serena's appearance one would have judged her deeply aggrieved.

"Where is she?"

"She tek er li'l ride. Ain't she bin at yo'all's office?"

Serena was conscious that her speed regulations, literally interpreted and conscientiously obeyed by Ike, might be responsible for the delayed return of the absent ones. She was aware, that regardless of the real reason, Ike, const.i.tutionally, would not be adverse to transferring all blame to her. She deemed it advantageous, therefore, to submit her defence before the arrival of the complainant and thus win the sympathetic support of the court.

"Ah tole dat Ike to drive mo'e cafful. Ah ain' wantin' Miss Virginy broke up 'count o' his foolishness."

"They were safe enough when I saw them down town. As far as I could make out they had been following a minstrel band about," Obadiah informed her.

"Minst'el band!" Serena lifted up her voice loudly. "Dat's Ike. Wot inte'est dat chil' got in er ole minst'el band. It sure is dat fool Ike."

"They had a negro woman and a lot of negro children in the back of the car."

"Black woman an' chillun," shouted the old negress. "Howc.u.m dey in dat caah? Ah axes you dat?" Serena's temper was rising. "Dat fool boy Ike done fill up dat caah wid trash. Yas'r. Whar was dey?"

"Following that band down the middle of Main Street."

"On Main Street, wid all de high tone folks er lookin' at ma po' li'l honey chil' er packed in wid er bunch o' trash er laughin' an' er hollerin' at er minst'el band." Serena became almost inarticulate in her anger.

Obadiah kicked angrily at the rug in front of him. Again he remembered the smiles of the crowd. Gruffly dismissing the servant, he watched her depart, every line of her body quivering with indignation and muttering dire threats at Ike.

The manufacturer dropped into a chair and attempted to read a newspaper but he could not keep his mind from the episode of the morning. It had been an absurd affair. His sense of personal dignity rebelled at his daughter being entangled in such a thing. The thought came that Virginia was only a child who had become involved in an escapade of Ike's which every one had already forgotten.

He settled himself more comfortably but the picture of the parade would not depart from his thoughts. Obadiah could not stand ridicule and those laughing faces danced before him. That child argument was unsatisfactory, too. Virginia had appeared quite proud of the load of colored children when he had talked to her. She didn't look the child part, either. To the contrary she seemed quite mature--almost a woman. With a start, he remembered his daughter's age. "Confound it," he muttered, "she is a woman. She should behave as one. She must learn to have some regard for my dignity and to uphold my position in this town."

He arose, looked at his watch, and, striding out upon the porch, gazed anxiously down the street. As he watched, there came a distant honk of familiar note and in a few moments his car turned in through the gate.

"What made you so late?" roared Obadiah before the machine stopped.

Virginia leaped out as the car paused and running up the steps threw her arms about her father. "Oh Daddy," she responded, "I have been so frightened." Laying her head against his arm, she shuddered.

"What happened?" Obadiah's voice was cutting, sharp.

"We almost killed a man. We broke his legs and ribs and gave him a terrible headache. We had to take him to the hospital where he is suffering dreadfully."

"Dat man done knock er big dent in dis yere caah wid his haid,"

proclaimed Ike. "Ran slap bang into me."

At the sound of the chauffeur's well remembered voice, Serena, as a privileged member of the household, returned to the porch. Approaching Virginia who had drawn an arm of her father about herself, the old negress patted the girl rea.s.suringly upon the shoulder and pledged revenge. "Nev' mine, honey chil', nev' mind, ah gwine 'tend to dat fool, Ike, presen'ly." Hurrying to the end of the porch she glared down at the chauffeur as if he were the root of all evil in that vicinity. "Wot you mean er takin' er woman an' 'er fambly in dat caah wid ma honey chil' an' er runnin' ovah er ban' an' er killin'

er minst'el man? 'Splain youse'f, boy."

Ike was puzzled to identify the victim of his alleged manslaughter under the conditions named. "Wot minst'el man? Ah ain' kill no minst'el man a tall."

"Who dat done dent yo'all's caah?" cried the accusing voice.

"How ah gwine tell if dat man wot bre'k hisse'f up on ma caah is er minst'el man? Ah ain' ax 'im. Ah ain' kill no man."

"Who dat woman an' her fambly you 'vite into dat caah? Wot mar'ied woman is yo'all makin' up to? Wot's de name o' dat frien', wid chillun?"

Ike had to suffer much that morning. He writhed under this new inquisition which displayed a tendency to besmirch his reputation. No love light glowed in the porcupine's eyes but hatred, intense and eternal, flashed from them, and he bristled as he made forceful denial. "Dat female sco'pion ain' no frien' o' mine."

Before such dislike, who could suspect? Where dwelt such frankness? Who could doubt? Yet, Serena, conjecturing that a more complete understanding of the case might insure some interesting developments, excused him with words of warning, "You ain' nevah kep' nothin' f'on me, no time."

After Obadiah had heard his daughter's story of the accident, his mind reverted to the minstrel parade. "You seem to have had a very strenuous morning, Virginia," he remarked. "When we met, you had quite a load of pa.s.sengers with you. Tell me about them." He wanted to know how those orphans got into the car.

Virginia was in the midst of her description of the morning's events when her father interrupted,

"Why should you take those negro children for a ride? What made you do it?"

"Can't you understand, Daddy? Those poor little darkies were frightened almost out of their wits by our car. They cried, and they looked so forlorn. The walk is their big pleasure each week. We spoiled it in a way, today, and I tried to make up for it." She was lost in thought for a moment and then went on. "Think of it! Those children are shut up within the walls of that inst.i.tution every minute of the time except for that weekly walk."

"What's the matter with that? Where else would you keep them? They can't run loose upon the streets." Obadiah wished to bring his daughter to a reasonable and sensible view of the situation.

"Of course, Daddy, the orphans can't be allowed to run wild. That would never do. But that makes it no less hard for them to be shut up in that yard year after year with only a walk now and then for a change." She looked appealingly at him. "How would you like to be shut up in a yard all of the time, Daddy?"

Obadiah almost shuddered. The thought of being confined in an inclosure was repulsive to him. It savored of the penalties prescribed in certain anti-trust laws of which he had an uncomfortable knowledge. He would have gladly eliminated the question of restraint, but not being able to, asked, "How can you help it?"

Virginia gleefully clinched her argument. "Take the orphans out oftener and take them riding so that they can go farther than their little legs can carry them. I did the last thing, Daddy, don't you see?"