ored
female sex. He is a perfect Bluebeard. He has had I do not know how many
wives and I heard that his last wife was sick. They sent for my son,
Douglas, the doctor, not long ago to see her. However, I hope she is
better as he has not been sent for again."
At this moment, by a coincidence, the name of Jabez was brought in by a
maid.
"Unc' Jabez, m'm."
That was all; but the tone and the manner of the maid told that Jabez
was a person of note with the messenger; every movement and glance were
self-conscious.
"That old--! He is a nuisance! What does he want now? Is his wife worse,
or is he after a new one?"
"I d' n' kn', m'm," said the maid, sheepishly, twisting her body and
looking away, to appear unconcerned. "Would n' tell me. He ain' after
_me!_
"Well, tell him to go to the kitchen till I send for him. Or--wait:
if his wife 's gone, he 'll be courting the cook if I send him to the
kitchen. And I don't want t-
o lose her just now. Tell him to come to the
door."
"Yes, 'm." The maid gave a half-suppressed giggle, which almost became
an explosion as she said something to herself and closed the door.
It sounded like, "Dressed up might'ly--settin' up to de cook now, I
b'lieve."
There was a slow, heavy step without, and a knock at the back door; and
on a call from his mistress, Jabez entered, bowing low, very pompous and
serious. He was a curious mixture of assurance and conciliation, as he
stood there, hat in hand. He was tall and black and bald, with white
side-whiskers cut very short, and a rim of white wool around his head.
He was dressed in an old black coat, and held in his hand an ancient
beaver hat around which was a piece of rusty crape.
"Well, Jabez?" said his mistress, after the salutations were over, "How
are you getting along!"
"Well, mist'is, not very well, not at all well, ma'am. Had mighty bad
luck. 'Bout my