"Then what do you want?"

"We want--" Azuba hesitated, "we want--what this paper says we want.

And," with determination, "we're goin' to have it."

"All right, have it, then! Meantime, let's have dinner. It's pretty nigh half-past five, and the table ain't set. And," with a sniff, "there's somethin' burnin' somewheres, I smell it."

This statement had an effect. Azuba dropped the precious paper and sprang to open the oven door.

"Well!" she declared, "it's all right. 'Twas that cranberry pie, and 'twas only beginnin' to scorch. It's all right."

"Glad to hear it. Now, say, Zuba, you take my advice; you're a practical, sensible woman, I always said so. Don't you get to be silly, at your age."

It was an impolitic remark. Azuba bristled.

"At my age!" she repeated. "Humph! I ain't so much older than some folks in this kitchen, nor in the rest of the house, either. What do you mean by silly?"

"I mean--I mean--well, I mean don't you get to joinin' lodges and readin' papers and racin' out every night in the week to somethin' or other. It ain't worth while. It's silly--just silly."

"Oh, is it! Well, other women do it. Your wife's been doin' it ever since we got here. And now Gertie's startin' in. You always made your brags that she was about as sensible, smart a girl as ever drawed breath. _I_ ain't got money; n.o.body's left ME a cart load of dollars and a swell front house. But I've got rights and feelin's. I'm a woman, a free woman, and if it ain't silly for Mrs. Dott and Gertie to want to advance and--and so on, I cal'late 'tain't silly for me either. Perhaps you'd like to have me tell Serena that you said she was silly. Shall I?"

Daniel did not answer, but his look was answer sufficient. Azuba smiled triumphantly.

"Practical," she sneered. "No, Cap'n Daniel, I ain't been practical so far, but I'm goin' to be. I'm a-goin' to be. You watch me."

Her employer's guns were spiked. He marched out of the kitchen, slamming the door viciously. The library was tenanted by Cousin Percy, who was taking a nap on the lounge. Upstairs, Gertrude was helping her mother with a "report" of some kind. Hapgood, the butler, was in the hall, and he bowed respectfully.

"Yes, sir," he said. "Did you wish anything, sir?"

"No," snarled Captain Dan, and went out for a walk. This was the last straw. If Azuba was going crazy the situation was hopeless indeed. And he had received no reply to his letter.

Hapgood, left alone in the hall, grinned, strolled into the library and, regardless of Mr. Hungerford's presence, filled his pockets with cigars from his employer's box. Downstairs, in the kitchen, Azuba was busy getting dinner. At intervals she burst out laughing.

That evening Mr. "Monty" Holway called.

CHAPTER X

Mr. Holway's call was, ostensibly, a call upon the Dott family in general, but it was to Gertrude that he addressed most of his conversation. The young lady was very affable and gracious. She expressed herself as glad to see him, and she appeared to be. "Monty"

was a voluble person, and he talked a great deal, although a critic might possibly have considered his remarks more remarkable for quant.i.ty than quality. In the presence of Captain Dan he appeared a trifle ill at ease, a fact which the captain attributed to circ.u.mstances attending their first meeting. Serena seemed somewhat surprised at the call. She regarded her daughter and Mr. Holway with an odd expression, and, so it seemed to her husband, was apparently dissatisfied or disturbed. At all events she said little and, when addressed, answered absent-mindedly.

Mr. Hungerford was the most surprised of all. He had been out, and when, returning, he found his friend in the drawing-room, his greeting was not too cordial. Mr. Holway also seemed embarra.s.sed, and a bit on his guard.

"h.e.l.lo, Tacks!" he said, rising and extending his hand.

Cousin Percy did not see the hand, or, if he saw it, did not offer his own.

"h.e.l.lo," he said, gruffly. Then, after a quick glance at the quartette in the drawing-room, he pulled forward a chair and, without waiting for an invitation, seated himself.

"How goes it?" inquired Monty.

"All right enough. Oh--er--Gertrude, I've found out about that recital affair. It is next Wednesday afternoon. I have arranged for us to go.

Rather difficult business to manage, at such a late date, but I managed to pull it off."

Gertrude smilingly declared that she was much obliged. "I don't know, of course," she added, "what Mother's plans for that day may be, but if she is not busy I'm sure we shall be pleased to go. Thank you for thinking of us."

Mr. Hungerford hesitated. "Well," he said, "to tell you the truth, I had supposed that Mrs. Dott might be rather busy. It is your committee meeting afternoon, isn't it, Mrs. Dott? and so I arranged for only two.

Awfully stupid of me, I know."

"Oh, that will be all right. You and Mother can go, then. I don't mind at all. Really, I don't. And Mother is so fond of music. It is all right, Mother," turning to Serena, who had been about to speak, "you can go just as well as not. You must. Never mind the committee meeting; I'll act as your subst.i.tute there."

Cousin Percy was not overcome with joy; at least, he managed to restrain his ecstasy. Mr. Holway volunteered a word.

"Is it the Wainwright Recital you are talking about?" he inquired, eagerly. "That's all right. I can get cards for that. It's a cinch.

I'll see that you go, Miss Dott. By George! I'll--I'll go myself. Yes, I will, really. We'll all go."

This prompt suggestion should have cleared the air. Somehow it did not.

Mr. Hungerford merely grunted. Gertrude shook her head.

"No," she said, "I think, perhaps, I had better not go, after all. But it is ever so nice of you to offer, Mr. Holway. You and Cousin Percy can take Father and Mother. That will be splendid."

"Don't bother about me," put in Daniel, hastily. Recitals were almost as distasteful as Chapter meetings or "At Homes" to his mind.

"It won't be any bother, I'm sure," declared Gertrude. "Will it, Cousin Percy? Will it, Mr. Holway?"

Both the young gentlemen murmured their pleasure at the prospect of acting as escorts to the elder members of the Dott family. Serena said she would "see about it," she couldn't say for certain whether or not she would be able to attend the recital. Captain Dan said nothing.

The conversation dragged somewhat after this. "Monty" and Mr. Hungerford addressed the greater portion of their remarks to Gertrude, only occasionally favoring Serena and Daniel with a word or question. To each other they were very uncommunicative. At last, however, after Mr. Holway had given a very full account of a "dinner dance" which he had recently attended, "a very exclusive affair, only the best people, you know,"

Percy, who had been listening impatiently, turned toward him and drawled:

"I remember that dance. Beastly tiresome, I judged it would be, so I sent regrets. I heard you enjoyed yourself, old chap. Said I imagined so, considering your company. By the way, that must be getting quite serious, that affair of yours. When may we expect the announcement?"

Holway colored. His usual facility of speech seemed to have deserted him.

"Announcement!" he stammered. "Announcement! What--what--"

His friend laughed.

"Oh, it's all right, old man," he observed. "Don't get excited. She's a charming girl. No one blames you."

"Monty" continued to sputter. Gertrude was all excitement.

"Oh, how interesting!" she said. "Do tell us about her, Mr. Holway. Do I know her?"

"Know her!" Mr. Holway's indignation was intense. "I--I don't know her myself. He's just guying, Miss Dott. He--he thinks because he--he is so confoundedly fascinating, and has so many--so many--

"Oh, that reminds me, Tacks," turning upon the smiling Hungerford, "I saw a friend of yours yesterday. She looked quite desolate, quite broken-hearted, my word she did. You were a little cruel there, weren't you, my boy? Just a bit cruel. Everyone expected--"