Minervy looked deeply perturbed.  Shifting from one patent-leather-shod foot to the other, she answered: 

“Well’m, well’m, I dare say you’s had more spurrience in dese hyer t’ings ‘n I is, but dat ston certain’y did strike ma heart.  But ef yo’ say ‘taint right why, pleas ma’am git a pair o’ scissors an’ prize it out, tho’ I done brought de belt fer de sake ob dat buckle.  Well, nemmine.  I reckons I kin keep it, an’ if I ever marhrys agin it sho will come in handy.”

The combined efforts of Mrs. Harold, Peggy and Polly eventually got Minervy passably presentable as to raiment, but there they gave up the obligation.

On the following Sunday the funeral was held with all the ceremony and display dear to the African heart, but “Sis Cynthia, Mammy Lucy and Jerome were too occupied with domestic duties to attend.”  “I holds masef clar ’bove sich goin’s-on,” was Mammy’s dictum.  “When I dies, I ‘spects ter be bur’rid quiet an’ dignumfied by ma mistiss, an’ no sich crazy goin’s on as dem yonder.”

Later Minervy and her “nine haid ob chillern” betook themselves into the town of Annapolis where matrimonial opportunities were greater, and, sure enough, before two months were gone by she presented herself to Peggy, smiling and coy, to ask: 

“Please, ma’am, is yo’ got any ol’ white stuff wha’ I could use fer a bridal veil?”

“A bridal veil?” repeated Peggy, horrified at this new development.

“Yas’m, dat’s what I askin’ fer.  Yo’ see, Miss Peggy, dat haid waiter man at de Central Hotel, he done fall in love wid ma nine haid o’ po’ orphanless chillern an’ crave fer ter be a daddy to ’em.  An’ Miss Peggy, honey, Johanna she gwine be ma bride’s maid, an’ does yo’ reckon yo’s got any ole finery what yo’ kin giv’ her?  She’s jist ‘bout yo’ size, ma’am.”

Johanna was Minervy’s eldest daughter.

“Yes.  I’ll get exactly what you want,” cried Peggy, her lips set and her eyes snapping, for her patience was exhausted.

Going to her storeroom Peggy brought to light about three yards of white cotton net and a pistachio green mull gown, long since discarded.  It was made with short white lace sleeves and low cut neck.

“Here you are,” she said, handing them to Minervy who was thrown into a state of ecstacy.  “But wait a moment; it lacks completeness,” and she ran to her room for a huge pink satin bow.  “There, tell Johanna to pin that on her head and the harlequin ice will be complete.”

But her sarcasm missed its mark.  Then Peggy went to her greenhouses and gathering a bunch of Killarney roses walked out to the little burial lot where the Severndale help slept and laying them upon Joshua’s grave said softly: 

“You were good and true and faithful, and followed your light.”

[Footnote:  Note—­The author would like to state that this episode actually did take place upon the estate of a friend.]