"
Duff Salter put on his hat, took his stick, and drew the curtains down.
Mike was sitting at the writing table arranging some models of vessels
and steam tugs as his employer turned at the doorway and looked back,
and, with a countenance more waggish than exasperated, Duff Salter shook
his cane at the unobservant Irishman, and sagely gestured with his head.
Agnes was about to take the head of the tea-table as he came down the
stairs.
"No," motioned Duff Salter, and pointed out of doors.
He gave a slight examination to Agnes, so delicate as to be almost
unnoticed, though she perceived it.
Duff sat at the tea side and wrote on his tablets:
"How is little Podge coming on?"
"Growing better," replied Agnes, "but she will be unfit to teach her
school for months. Kind friends have sent her many things."
Duff Salter waited a little while, and wrote:
"I wish I could leave everybody happy behind me when I go away."
"Are you going soon?"
"I am going at once," wrote Duff Salter with a sudden decision. "I am
not trusted by anybody here, and my work is over."
Agnes sat a little while in pain and wistfulness. Finally she wrote:
"There is but one thing which prevents our perfect trust in you; it is
your distrust of us.
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