“A good many years, it seems.”
Mrs. Thursby took a deep breath. “Well, that was the only thing the matter with Beech Lodge.”
“What?” asked Edith curiously.
“A crazy housemaid. I felt that as soon as we left the place. Of course,” she continued reflectively, “you’ll think I must have been a bit crazy myself for not discharging her. I did make up my mind to that a good many times, but when it came to looking her in the face and saying she wouldn’t be wanted any more, I—well, I just couldn’t. Silly, wasn’t it?”
“I can almost understand that.”
“Glad you can. I couldn’t. Was she nice to you?”
“She was a wonderful servant.”
“Well, you see she liked you, but gave me the creeps. And the funny thing was that I couldn’t imagine the house without her, though it seems perfectly natural now, and this room is ever so much brighter.”
Thursby nodded. “It’s rather a pity you couldn’t imagine it.”
The stout woman laughed. “James has never quite forgiven me.”