When Ellis, after this rebuff, had disconsolately¹ taken his leave, Clara, much elated at the righteous punishment she had inflicted² upon
the slanderer³, ran upstairs to the nursery, and, snatching Dodie from
Mammy Jane's arms, began dancing gayly with him round the room.
"Look a-hyuh, honey," said Mammy Jane, "you better be keerful wid dat chile, an' don' drap 'im on de flo'. You might let him fall on his head an' break his neck. My, my! but you two does make a pretty pictur'! You'll be wantin' ole Jane ter come an' nuss yo' child'en some er dese days," she chuckled⁴ unctuously⁵.
 
Mammy Jane had been very much disturbed by the recent dangers through which little Dodie had passed; and his escape from strangulation, in the first place, and then from the knife had impressed her as little less than miraculous⁶. She was not certain whether this result had been brought about by her manipulation of the buried charm, or by the prayers which had been offered for the child, but was inclined to believe that both had cooperated to avert⁷ the threatened calamity⁸. The favorable outcome of this particular incident had not, however, altered the general situation. Prayers and charms, after all, were merely temporary things, which must be constantly renewed, and might be forgotten or overlooked; while the mole⁹, on the contrary, neither faded nor went away. If its malign¹⁰ influence might for a time seem to disappear, it was merely lying dormant¹¹, like the germs of some deadly disease, awaiting its opportunity to strike at an unguarded spot.
 
Clara and the baby were laughing in great glee, when a mockingbird, perched on the topmost bough¹² of a small tree opposite the nursery window, burst suddenly into song, with many a trill and quaver. Clara, with the child in her arms, sprang to the open window.
 
"Sister Olivia," she cried, turning her face toward Mrs. Carteret, who at that moment entered the room, "come and look at Dodie."
 
The baby was listening intently to the music, meanwhile gurgling with delight, and reaching his chubby¹⁴ hands toward the source of this pleasing sound. It seemed as though the mockingbird were aware of his appreciative¹⁵ audience, for he ran through the songs of a dozen different birds, selecting, with the discrimination of a connoisseur¹⁶ and entire confidence in his own powers, those which were most difficult and most alluring¹⁷.
 
Mrs. Carteret approached the window, followed by Mammy Jane, who waddled¹⁸ over to join the admiring party. So absorbed were the three women in the baby and the bird that neither one of them observed a neat top buggy, drawn¹⁹ by a sleek²⁰ sorrel pony²¹, passing slowly along the street before the house. In the buggy was seated a lady, and beside her a little boy, dressed in a child's sailor suit and a straw hat. The lady, with a wistful expression, was looking toward the party grouped in the open window.
 
Mrs. Carteret, chancing to lower her eyes for an instant, caught the other woman's look directed toward her and her child. With a glance of cold aversion she turned away from the window.
 
Old Mammy Jane had observed this movement, and had divined the reason for it. She stood beside Clara, watching the retreating buggy.
 
"Uhhuh!" she said to herself, "it's huh sister Janet! She ma'ied a doctuh, an' all dat, an' she lives in a big house, an' she's be'n roun' de worl' an de Lawd knows where e'se: but Mis' 'Livy don' like de sight er her, an' never will, ez long ez de sun rises an' sets. Dey ce't'nly does favor one anudder,—anybody mought 'low dey wuz twins, ef dey didn' know better. Well, well! Fo'ty yeahs ago who'd 'a' ever expected ter see a nigger gal²² ridin' in her own buggy? My, my! but I don' know,—I don' know! It don' look right, an' it ain' gwine ter las'!—you can't make me b'lieve!"
 
Meantime Janet, stung by Mrs. Carteret's look,—the nearest approach she had ev............