An' there he stands, up an' ready for
me, the minute he hears my key in the lock, an' when I open the door,
an' light the changelier (he don't dare let a bark out of'm, he knows
better, the smart little fella!), there he stands, a-waggin' his stump
of a tail like a Christian, an'--Mr. Ronald, sir--that wag ain't for
sale!"
For a moment something akin in both held them silent. Then Mr. Ronald
slowly inclined his head. "You are quite right, Martha. I understand
your feeling."
Martha turned to go. She had, in fact, reached the door when she was
recalled.
"O--one moment, please."
She came back.
"My sister tells me you worked in my rooms yesterday. Was any one there
with you at the time?"
"No, sir. Mrs. Sherman said I might have one of the girls, but I perfer
to see to your things myself."
"Then you were quite alone?"
"Yes, sir."
"Do you know if any one else in the household had occasion to go into my
rooms during the day?"
"Of course I can't be pos'tive. But I don't think so, sir."
"Then I wonder if this belongs to you?" He extended his hand toward her.
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