“I know that,” said the stranger, who seemed to be initiated into all the doings of this household. “And I am an old man—all I meant was that I would rather not have any of the other servants about.”
“I’ll keep the cook out of the way if you want me to.”
“That would be a good idea. It isn’t easy to talk business before others,” remarked the old man as they entered the room. It was a comfortably furnished and cozily warm apartment. Only two people were there, an old woman and a pretty young girl, who both looked up in astonishment as the men came in.
“Who’s this you’re bringing in, George?” asked Nanette.
“He’s a peddler and he’s got some trifles here you might like to look at.”
“Why, yes, you wanted a thimble, didn’t you, Lena?” asked Nanette, and the cook beckoned to the peddler. “Let’s see what you’ve got there,” she said in a friendly tone. The old man pulled out his wares from his pack; thimbles and scissors, coloured ribbons, silks, brushes and combs, and many other trifles. When the women had made their several selections they noticed that the old man was shivering with the cold, as he leaned against the stove. Their sympathies were aroused in a moment. “Why don’t you sit down?” asked Nanette, pushing a chair towards him, and Lena rose to get him something warm from the kitchen.
The peddler threw a look at George, who nodded in answer. “He said he’d like to see the things they gave you after Mrs. Kniepp’s death,” the young man remarked,
“Do you buy things like that?” Nanette turned to the peddler.
“I’d just like to look at them first, if you’ll let me.”
“I’d be glad to get rid of them. But I won’t go upstairs, I’m afraid there.”