needn' tell me. I tole you yistiddy things was queer. Miss Sally goin' off in a rush in the mornin' and Miss Ethel goin' off in a rush in the evenin'. And Mistuh Neale givin' orders we ain' to say where he is, effen anybody 'phones."
Sampson agreed. "An' nobody havin' breakfus' this mornin' ceptin' Miss Anne. And she never eats nothin' but orange juice, lessen she git fat."
Delia came close to him. "Mis' Ethel's at the bottom of it. You lissen to me. . . . I calls her a snake, wormin' herself in. That's what I calls her."
Sampson was gloomy. "Effen Mistuh Louis marries Mis' Ethel, I goes."
"An' you won't go alone. I packs my trunk and shakes the dus' f'om my feet. Miss Ethel kaint give me no orders."
For once however in her life, Delia's intuitions had failed her. The note to Hildegarde was not about Ethel Hulburt. It was about Bobby.
Carew had written: "I've been thinking it all out, Hildegarde, and it looks as if our hope is in Bobby Gresham. You like him, don't you? And he's a gentleman. He loves you, and with him as your husband we could laugh at Neale. It is hard for you to understand what Neale can do to me. I am utterly in his power financially, and I am not used to poverty. But Bobby would be the solution. Think about it, Hildegarde, and let me know. I'll see you in the morning. You are my dear child, and I want you to be happy. It would be intolerable for me to see you suffer. And this seems to be the way out. Let's try it."
