As well as she could, Mrs. Nichols explained her meaning, and Aunt Milly replied, “Oh, yes, yes, I know now.  ‘Is it most dinner time?’ Yes—­dinner’ll be done ready in an hour.  We never has it till two no day, and when we has company not till three.”

Confident that she should starve, Mrs. Nichols advanced a step or two into the kitchen, whereupon Aunt Milly commenced making excuses, saying, “she was gwine to clar up one of these days, and then if Thomas Jefferson and Marquis De Lafayette didn’t quit that litterin’ they’d cotch it”

Attracted by the clean appearance of Aunt Polly, who, not having to work, prided herself upon always being neatly dressed, Mrs. Nichols walked up to her, and, to use a vulgar expression, the two old ladies were soon “hand-in-glove,” Mrs. Nichols informing her of her loss, and how sorry Nancy Scovandyke would feel when she heard of it, and ending by giving her the full particulars of her husband’s sickness and death.  In return Aunt Polly said that “she was born and bred along with ole Marster Richards, Miss Matilda’s father, and that she, too, had buried a husband.”

With a deep sigh, Mrs. Nichols was about, to commiserate her, when Aunt Polly cut her short by saying, “‘Twant of no kind o’ count, as she never relished him much.”

“Some drunken critter, I warrant,” thought Mrs. Nichols, at the same time asking what his name was.

“Jeems,” said Aunt Polly.

This was not definite enough for Mrs. Nichols, who asked for the surname, “Jeems what?”

“Jeems Atherton, I reckon, bein’ he ’longed to ole Marster Atherton,” said Polly.

For a time Mrs. Nichols had forgotten her hunger but the habit of sixty years was not so easily broken and she now hinted so strongly of the emptiness of her stomach that Aunt Polly, emboldened by her familiarity, said, “I never wait for the rest, but have my cup of tea or coffee just when I feel like it, and if missus wouldn’t mind takin’ a bite with a nigger, she’s welcome.”

“Say nothin’ about it.  We shall all be white in heaven.”

“Dat am de trufe,” muttered Milly, mentally assigning Mrs. Nichols a more exalted occupation than that of turning hoe-cakes!

Two cups and saucers were forthwith produced, Milly acting as a waiter for fear Aunt Polly would leave her seat and so disclose to view the loaf of bread which had been hidden under the chair!  Some coffee was poured from the pot, which still stood on the stove, and then the little negroes, amused with the novelty of the thing, ran shouting and yelling that, “ole miss was eatin’ in the kitchen ’long with Lion, Aunt Polly and the other dogs!”

The coffee being drank, Mrs. Nichols returned to the house, thinking “what sights of comfort she should take with Mrs. Atherton,” whom she pronounced to be “a likely, clever woman as ever was.”