for a time, and they, tired by the walk, seemed content to rest under
the shade of the evergreens before making known their errand. They
sat speechless and content for some moments, until finally a mulatto
house-servant, passing from one building to another, cast a look in
their direction, and paused uncertainly in curiosity. The man on the
board-pile saw her.

"Here, Jinny! Jinny!" he called, just loud enough to be heard, and
not turning toward her more than half-way. "Come heah."

"Yassah," said the girl, and slowly approached.

"Get us a little melk, Jinny," said the speaker.

"We're plumb out o' melk down home."

"Yassah," said Jinny; and disappeared leisurely, to be gone perhaps
half an hour.

There remained little sign of life on the board-pile, the bonnet tube
pointing fixedly toward the railway station, the man now and then
slowly shifting one leg across the other, but staring out at nothing,
his lower lip drooping laxly. When the servant finally brought back
the milk-pail and placed it beside him, he gave no word of thanks.
The sunbonnet shifted to include the mulatto girl within its full
vision, as the latter stood leaning her weight on one side-bent foot,
idly wiping her hands upon her apron.

"Folks all well down to yo' place, Mistah Bowles?" said she, affably.