WHEN Hildegarde woke, after a night of dreamless sleep, she found the sun streaming in and Delia standing by the bed. "Yo' Daddy lef' a note for you, honey," she said, and delivered it.
Hildegarde sat up and opened the envelope. Delia went on to light the fire and draw the water for her mistress' bath. When she came back, Hildegarde was at the window, looking out.
"How 'ull you have yo' aigs, honey?"
"I don't want any eggs. I don't want any breakfast, Delia."
The colored woman's quick ear caught a note of distress. "Somepin happened?" she demanded.
"Yes."
"Is it yo' Daddy?"
"It's everything. . . ."
Her tone was final. Delia retiring discreetly to the threshold urged, "Won't you have jes' a leetle cup o' choc'lit?"
"Nothing now," as she turned she showed her troubled face, her tear-wet eyes, "I'll let you know."
Delia, entering the kitchen a few moments later, expressed herself tumultuously to Sampson. "You
