“It hain’t a bad place, miss,” said James patronizingly. “I’ve been with the family five years, and I can’t say as I’ve ’ad a ’ard time by no means.”
“I should say not,” laughed Martha. “James thinks as he owns the hull place.”
“Ceptin’ you,” added Mary.
“I wouldn’t own such poor property, no’ow,” said James with offended dignity.
“That ain’t me,” exclaimed William with a sly chuckle. “I’ve just been a-dyin’ to own both on you girls for months.”
“Oh, you horrid Mormon,” chorused the girls; “you’ll be wanting the new cook too, next.” The blood flamed into Elsie’s cheeks and an ominous sparkle gleamed for a moment beneath the downcast lids; but, with a struggle that was only noticed by Lizzette, she raised her eyes to William’s round, honest face.
“I think we shall all grow to be good friends; but you must be very patient with me until I have learned the ways here.”
The sweet face, the timid, deprecating manner, the ladylike voice, awoke varying emotions in the breasts of Elsie’s little audience. “You bet,” exclaimed William hastily.
“Oh, of course,” said James, and then stopped confusedly as he recollected how near he had been to saying “Madam!”
Martha and Mary looked at each other and sniffed. “Stuck up,” they whispered as they passed out to their various duties; but little Jenie slipped her hand into Elsie’s and said simply, “I like you.”