“The other is Miss Leigh, whom she chaperoned from home. She is living with an aunt, who is married to a German named Krauss.”
“Yes, I know; a poisonous chap!”
“So she seems to think, and that this girl, who by all accounts is very pretty and charming, and a marvellous pianist, has been lured out to act as maid and housekeeper, and save the pocket of Herr Krauss. Now, as I have two legacies, I want to know if you will take one of them off my hands?”
“As if my hands were not full!”
“Yes, officially, only; now I offer you your choice. Which will you have? Shafto or the girl?”
“You need scarcely ask; I’ll take the girl, of course, and leave you Shafto.”
“Oh, you are an old silly!” she exclaimed, ruffling up his grizzled hair; “I wonder which of us will have the better bargain.”
With regard to the subject of Mrs. Gregory’s conversation, Douglas set to work with the proverbial enthusiasm of a new broom and soon became—as Salter had predicted—a cog in the whirling wheels of a machine. But Thursday being the Station holiday, he hired a taxi and had himself driven out to Kokine, in order to call on Mrs. Krauss and Miss Leigh; unfortunately his journey proved to be a waste of time and money. The leisurely servant who emerged from the entrance of “Heidelberg,” salver in hand, accepted his visiting-card with a salaam, and then announced with stolid unconcern:
“Missis can’t see.”