There was
no one in Washington to whom the Major's scruples allowed him to apply
for a loan. Miss Lydia wrote a letter to Uncle Ralph, but it was
doubtful whether that relative's constricted affairs would permit him
to furnish help. The Major was forced to make an apologetic address to
Mrs. Vardeman regarding the delayed payment for board, referring to
"delinquent rentals" and "delayed remittances" in a rather confused
strain.
Deliverance came from an entirely unexpected source.
Late one afternoon the door maid came up and announced an old colored
man who wanted to see Major Talbot. The Major asked that he be sent up
to his study. Soon an old darkey appeared in the doorway, with his hat
in hand, bowing, and scraping with one clumsy foot. He was quite
decently dressed in a baggy suit of black. His big, coarse shoes shone
with a metallic luster suggestive of stove polish. His bushy wool was
gray--almost white. After middle life, it is difficult to estimate the
age of a negro. This one might have seen as many years as had Major
Talbot.
"I be bound you don't know me, Mars' Pendleton," were his first words.
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