Old Timothy had been in the employ of the family for more than twenty years. Templeton Blaine had liked him. Dorothy kept him on now for her father's sake. Nothing in the house must be changed. Still in the whole course of her life she had never seen Timothy smile.
"Someday," she reflected, "I'll put a pin in his chair and see if the result carries with it a change of expression."
"Timothy," informed Dorothy, "this is my aunt, Mary Blaine, who will be the new mistress."
"Not very new," Mary broke in crisply. "More like an old one made over."
Dorothy grinned. Timothy's eyes bulged and he swallowed several times, his Adam's apple visibly going up and down like an elevator. Timothy had a long neck and despite his immaculate winged collar there was ample room for the said apple to play about.
He finally succeeded in controlling his emotions though he was feebly trying to decide what manner of a woman this one was. She was so tremendous she might easily have used a baby elephant for a lap-dog.
"Shall I show Madame to her room?" he asked gravely.
"I wish you would," said Mary. "I want to change my shoes. I bought these in a store that made a specialty of shoes with perfect arches. There's nothing the matter with the arches, I admit, but they forgot the toes entirely. They're so tight I believe my little toe is off completely. In a few moments Terese will be here with my bags. She stopped to check my trunks while I went on to Mr. Clive Reardon's office. I wanted to see whether your attorney would approve of me. Had he turned thumbs down I would have returned to the wheatlands from whence I came. Fortunately he seemed amiable. At least he survived the shock of my appearance and willingly put his visa on my passport. So here I am. I told Terese that she needn't hurry. I didn't, however, mean that she could take the night boat to Albany."
Timothy's expression registered a complete blank. The woman must be drunk. As he led the way upstairs, he mentally prayed that she wouldn't fall down. He would never be
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