THE OLD MAID
Spender’s did. Delia laid a burning cheek against the forehead.
“Baby want my lovely yellow chain?”
Baby did.
Delia unfastened the gold chain and hung it about the child’s neck. The other babies clapped and crowed, but the little girl, gravely dimpling, continued to finger the links in silence.
“Oh, ma’am, you can’t leave that fine chain on little Teeny. When she has to go back to those blacks . . .”
“What is her name?”
“Teena they call her, I believe. It don’t seem a Christian name, har’ly.”
Delia was silent.
“What I say is, her cheeks is too red. And she coughs too easy. Always one cold and another. Here, Teeny, leave the lady go.”
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