"The home-made things are well enough in their way, madame," Aline agreed, "but I have never known a household so strange and disagreeable. That M. Jennings, who calls himself the butler—he is a person unspeakable, a savage!"
Louise's eyes twinkled.
"I don't think they are fond of women in this household, Aline," she remarked. "Tell me, have you seen Charles?"
"Charles has gone to the nearest blacksmith's forge to get something made for the car, madame," Aline replied. "He asked me to say that he was afraid he would not be ready to start before midday."
"That does not matter," Louise declared, as she settled down to her breakfast. "I do not care how long it is before he is ready. I should love to spend a month here!"
Aline held up her hands. She was speechless. Her mistress laughed at her consternation.
"Well," she continued, "there is no fear of their asking us for a month, or for an hour longer than they can help. The elder Mr. Strangewey, it seems, has the strongest objection to our sex. There is not a woman servant in the house, is there?"
"Not one, madame," Aline replied. "I have never been in a household conducted in such a manner. It is like the kitchen of a monastery. The terrible Jennings is speechless. If one addresses him, he only mumbles. The sound of my skirts, or my footstep on the stone floor, makes him shiver. He is worse, one would imagine, than his master."
Louise ate and drank reflectively.
"It is the queerest household one could possibly stumble upon," she remarked. "The young Mr. Strangewey—he seems different, but he falls in with his brother's ways."