The Andre Norton Megapack - 15 Classic Novels and Short Stories

Ralestone, suh? Dere’s a sho’t-cut ’cross dis-a-way.” Sam turned into a side path and Val followed.
    Ricky was at the stove gingerly shifting a coffee-pot as her brother stepped into the kitchen. “Well,” she snapped as he entered, “it’s about time you were showing up. I’ve simply cracked my voice trying to call you, and Rupert’s been talking about having the bayou dragged or something of the kind. Where have you been, anyway?”
    “Getting acquainted with our neighbors. Ricky,” he called her attention to the smiling face just outside the door, “this is Sam. He runs the home farm for us. And his wife is a descendant of the Ralestone house folks.”
    “Yassuh, dat’s right. We’s Ralestone folks, Miss ’Chanda. Mah Lucy done sen’ me ovah to fin’ out what yo’all is a-needin’ done ’bout de place. She was in yisteday afo’ yo’all come an’ seed to de dustin’ an’ sich—”
    “So that’s why everything was so clean! That was nice of her—”
    “Yo’all is Ralestones, Miss ’Chanda. An’ Lucy say dat de Ralestones am a-goin’ to fin’ dis place jest ready for dem when dey come.” He beamed upon them proudly. “Lucy, she am a-goin’ be heah jest as soon as she gits de chillens set for de day. I’se come fust so’s Ah kin see wat Mistuh Ralestone done wan’ done wi dem rivah fiel’s—”
    “Where is Rupert?” Val broke in.
    “Went out to see about the car. The storm last night wrecked the door of the carriage house—”
    “Zat so?” Sam’s eyes went round. “Den Ah bettah be a-gittin’ out an’ see ’bout it. ’Scuse me, suh. ’Scuse me, Miss ’Chanda.” With a jerk of his head he left them. Val turned to Ricky.
    “We seem to have fallen into good hands.”
    “It’s my guess that his Lucy is a manager. He just does what she tells him to. I wonder how he knew my name?”
    “LeFleur probably told them all about us.”
    “Isn’t it odd—” she turned off the gas, “‘Ralestone folks.’”
    “Loyalty to the Big House,” her brother answered slowly. “I never thought that it really existed out of books.”
    “It makes me feel positively feudal. Val, I was born about a hundred years too late. I’d like to have been the mistress here when I could have ridden out in a victoria behind two matched bays, with a coachman and a footman up in front and my maid on the little seat facing me.”
    “And with a Dalmatian coach-hound running behind and at least three-fourths of the young bloods of the neighborhood as a mounted escort. I know. But those days are gone forever. Which leads me to another subject. What are we going to do today?”
    “The dishes, for one thing,” Ricky began ticking the items off on her fingers, “and then the beds. This afternoon Rupert wants us—that is, you and me—to drive to town and do some errands.”
    “Oh, yes, the list you two made out last night. Well, now that that’s all settled, suppose we have some breakfast. Has Rupert been fed or is he thinking of going on a diet?”
    “He’ll be in—”
    “Said she with perfect faith. All of which does not satisfy the pangs of hunger.”
    “Where’s Lovey?”
    “If you are using that sickening name to refer to Satan—he’s out—hunting, probably. The last I saw of him he was shooting head first for a sort of bird apartment house over to the left of the front door. Here’s Rupert. Now maybe we may eat.”
    “I’ve got something to tell you,” hissed Ricky as the missing member of the clan banged the screen door behind him. Having so aroused Val’s curiosity, she demurely went around the table to pour the coffee.
    “How’s the carriage house?” Val asked.
    “Sam thinks he can fix it with some of that lumber piled out back of the old smoke-house.” Rupert reached for a piece of toast. “What do you think of our family retainer?”
    “Seems a good chap.”
    “LeFleur says one of the best. Possesses a spark of ambition and is really trying to make a go of the farm, which is more than most of them do around here. His wife, by all accounts, is a wonder. Used to be the cook-housekeeper here when the Rafaels had the place. LeFleur still talks about the two meals he ate here then. Sam tells me that she is planning to take us in hand.”
    “But we can’t afford—” began Ricky.
    “I gathered that money does not come into the question. The lady is rather strong-willed. So, Ricky,” he laughed, “we’ll leave you two to fight it out. But Lucy may