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"Mother!" cried Isabella, with a pale face. "I wonder what keeps them?" she said anxiously. "They'd surely phone if they were detained or weren't coming. All of Bruce's friends are here, and Hannah Ann is on pins and needles for fear we'll be delayed and not get through in time for the four-forty. She was awfully glad to see you, wasn't she?" "Verses, too!" cried Margaret Howes. "Verses on every one of them. Read them aloud, everybody in turn. Hurry up and get them all together.".
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The soft chimes of the dinner gong began their melodious call before anyone could answer, and in the mad scramble to make themselves presentable in the shortest possible time, Hannah Ann's enthusiasms were forgotten. "Judy likes to see herself go by in the mirror," smiled Elinor leniently. "I suppose that's the literary mind." This latter was a tall and massively framed negro woman, with very little of the traditional merry nature of the black about her. She looked rather like a priestess, with her stern face and stately mien; and, indeed, in the West Indies, it was known among the negroes that Dido was high in power among the votaries of Obi. She could charm, she could slay by means of vegetable poisons, and she could--as the negroes firmly believed--cause a human being to dwindle, peak and pine, by means of incantations. "I know it. She was afraid of me.".
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