objects to a mere maid, and I don't in the least mind telling you what she wants me to do." One thing was clear—Mrs. Wix was now bold enough for anything. "She wants me to persuade you to get rid of the person from Mrs. Beale's." Maisie waited for Sir Claude to pronounce on this; then she could only understand that he, on his side, waited, and she felt particularly full of common sense as she met her responsibility. "Oh, I don't want Susan with you!" she said to Mrs. Wix.
Sir Claude, always from the window, approved. "That 's quite simple. I'll take her back."
Mrs. Wix gave a positive jump; Maisie caught her look of alarm. "'Take' her? You don't mean go over on purpose?"
Sir Claude said nothing for a moment; after which, "Why shouldn't I leave you here?" he inquired.
Maisie, at this, sprang up. "Oh, do, oh, do, oh, do!" The next moment she was interlaced with Mrs. Wix, and the two, on the hearth-rug, their eyes in each other's eyes, considered the plan with intensity. Maisie then perceived the difference of what they saw in it. "She can surely go back
