I know you think Mrs. Bartrum a little gay, but you
can't deny she runs that younger set."
Margery Sequin clasped her thin white hands tensely, and resumed her
study of the vine-covered ceiling.
"Here's the hat," said Mrs. Sequin, handing a large hat box to
Myrtella, then noting her offended expression she added by way of
propitiation: "I don't know how they would get along without you at
the Doctor's. I hear that the new mistress doesn't know a saucepan
from a skillet."
"She ain't no fool," returned Myrtella instantly on the defensive.
"Of course not, just young and careless. I dare say she doesn't even
order the groceries, does she?"
"No, mam."
"Nor plan for the meals?"
"No, mam."
"And you attend to everything just as if she weren't there? It's
really too funny, isn't it, Margery? Tell Mrs. Queerington that I'll
send the motor for her at five; and do see that she is properly hooked
up."
Myrtella succeeded in getting herself and the box silently out of the
room, but the butler passing her on the back stairs was startled by a
verbal shower that was not in the least intended for him. It was as if
a watering cart had suddenly and unexpectedly turned on its supply
regardless of its surroundings.
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