“But how can I help all this?” asked Mr. Hamilton.

“Help it?” returned Polly.  “You needn’t have got into the fire in the fust place.  I hain’t lived fifty-odd year for nothin’, and though I hain’t no larnin’, I know too much to heave myself away on the fust nussin’ woman that comes along.”

“Stop, Polly; you must not speak so of Mrs. Hamilton,” said Mr. Hamilton; while Polly continued: 

“And I wouldn’t nuther, if she could hold a candle to the t’other one; but she can’t.  You’d no business to marry a second time, even if you didn’t marry a nuss; neither has any man who’s got grow’d-up gals, and a faithful critter like Polly in the kitchen.  Stepmothers don’t often do well, particularly them as is sot up by marryin’.”

Here Mr. Hamilton, who did not like to hear so much truth, left the kitchen, while Aunt Polly said to herself, “I’ve gin it to him good, this time.”

Lenora, who always happened to be near when she was talked about, had overheard the whole, and repeated it to her mother.  Accordingly, that very afternoon word came to the kitchen that Mrs. Hamilton wished to see Polly.

“Reckon she’ll find this child ain’t afeared on her,” said Polly, as she wiped the flour from her face and repaired to Mrs. Hamilton’s room.

“Polly,” began that lady, with a very grave face, “Lenora tells me that you have been talking very disrespectfully to Mr. Hamilton.”

“In the name of the Lord, can’t he fight his own battles?” interrupted Polly.  “I only tried to show him that he was henpecked—­and he is.”

“It isn’t of him alone I would speak,” resumed Mrs. Hamilton, with stately gravity; “you spoke insultingly of me, and as I make it a practise never to keep a servant after they get insolent, I have——­”

“For the dear Lord’s sake,” again interrupted Polly, “I ’spect we’s the fust servants you ever had.”

“Good!” said a voice from some quarter, and Mrs. Hamilton continued:  “I have sent for you to give you twenty-four hours’ warning to leave this house.”

“I shan’t budge an inch until marster says so,” said Polly.  “Wonder who’s the best title deed here?  Warn’t I here long afore you come a nussin’ t’other one?”

And Polly went back to the kitchen, secretly fearing that Mr. Hamilton, who she knew was wholly ruled by his wife, would say that she must go.  And he did say so, though much against his will.  Lenora ran with the decision, to Aunt Polly, causing her to drop a loaf of new bread.  But the old negress chased her from the cellar with the oven broom, and then stealing by a back staircase to Margaret’s room, laid the case before her, acknowledging that she was sorry and asking her young mistress to intercede for her.  Margaret stepped to the head of the stairs, and calling to her father, requested him to come for a moment to her room.  This he was more ready to do, as he had no suspicion why he was sent for, but on seeing old Polly, he half-resolved to turn back.  Margaret, however, led him into the room, and then entreated him not to send away one who had served him so long and so faithfully.