"Oh, yes, I was named for that song. And, if you please, Mr. Waite,
would you let me pay you wages for Estralla?"
"For Estralla? Now, of course, I ought to know all about Estralla. But,
you see, I have a man who attends to the names, and all that, of my
negroes. But perhaps you can tell me who Estralla is?" replied Mr.
Waite.
"If you please, sir, she is Aunt Connie's little girl, and she lives
with us, and I like her, and I thought--" began Sylvia, but Mr. Waite
raised his hand, and she stopped suddenly.
"I see! I see! You want her to wait upon you. I see. Quite right. But if
she is living in your house she is not costing me a penny for board. So
I am indebted to you. Well! Well! I must see that whatever you wish is
carried out. You need not pay me wages, little Miss Sylvia, but you
shall have the girl for your own servant as long as you live in my
house, and I am delighted to have you take her off my hands. Yes,
indeed! Yes, indeed!" and Mr. Waite smiled and bowed, and seemed exactly
like Santa Claus.
"I'm ever so much obliged," said Sylvia. "I like Estralla."
"Do you? Yes! Well! And I hope you will come again, Miss Sylvia. I am
greatly pleased to have made your acquaintance," and the polite
gentleman escorted her to the door, where he bade her good-bye with such
an elegant bow that Sylvia nearly fell backward in her effort to make as
low a curtsey as seemed necessary.
Estralla had hidden herself behind some shrubbery, and joined Sylvia at
the gate.
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