With stern, inflexible faces, master and mistress watched
their property depart, then returned to the house, while Uncle
Lusthah mended the harness temporarily and took the carriage back to
its place. Standing aloof, Zany had watched the scene, wavering
between her intense desire to go and her loyalty to Miss Lou. The
sick girl had conquered, the negress winning an heroic victory over
herself. When she entered the back door of the mansion, her face
rigid from the struggle she had passed through, she was in no lamb-
like mood. Neither was her mistress, who was angrier than she had
ever been in her life.
"Well," she said to Zany in cold, cutting tones, "what are you doing
here? Looking around for something to carry off before you go also?"
Stung to the quick by this implied charge and lack of appreciation
of her great self-sacrifice, Zany replied hotly, "I done wid you,
misus. I tek no mo' orders fum you. I stay fer sump'n you doan know
not'n 'bout--lub, but lub fer Miss Lou. Ef she kyant 'tect em 'gin
you den I go.
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