on his hand. Then he heard the kitchen door open, and raised his eyes to see whether it were Mrs. Machin or Phœbe who was to wait on him.
It was Mrs. Machin but, instead of the black dress and large white apron, which he expected, she wore a silk cape with a shiny jet trimming and a bonnet that tied under her chin. His first thought was, "She will suffocate in those things"; then, as he realized what she was up to, he said, sternly: "Mrs. Machin, if you have it in your mind to leave me, you had better think twice before you do such a foolish thing. I am going to arrange things very differently today."
"You, can arrange things anyway you like," she said, violently. "It don't matter to me. I'm shut of the whole affair. My month was up day before yesterday, and I'll make you a present of the last two days and nights of misery. You've disgraced Grimstone. Your uncle made the mistake of his life when he left the fortune to a headstrong good-for-naught like you've turned out to be."
"That's pretty hard talk, Mrs. Machin." He felt, not so much anger at her words as dismay and sadness at the thought of losing this faithful old servant.
"It's a case for hard talk, and hard thoughts, too. Here I've worked for the Vales for over fifty years, till my hands are all knuckles, and what is my reward? I've got to get out for shame at the carryings-on here, and with a squaw girl at that."
"Very well, Mrs. Machin. If you won't listen to my explanation you can go. But I expect to see you back here inside of a week, and whenever you come I'll be willing to forget the hard things you've said to me, if you'll promise—"
"I won't promise nothing, and I won't come back."
