"I'll just fetch a posy for the little lady, I will. If market's over they's plenty them flower-stores, and maybe it'll make her forget all her lonesomeness. Poor little missy! What the Lord done sent to bless this great, empty house. Nothing mustn't happen to hurt her, nothing mustn't. No, suh," reflected the good old man.
When Peter returned from his marketing Josephine was still asleep. He did not disturb her, though he listened anxiously to her hoarse breathing and carefully replaced the damp towel which her restlessness had tossed aside. He also laid the bunch of carnations on the coverlet beside her and cautiously retreated to the hall, where he kept as close a watch upon her as he could find time to give.
"Dinner is served, Massa Joe," he announced, when its hour arrived.
"Is Miss Josephine ready?" asked the host.
"She done sleepin' mighty comf'table, suh," protested Peter.
"Seems to me I've read somewhere that
