III
“By the way, Stella,” he announced a few afternoons later, standing a little arrogantly, legs braced apart, and moistening his lips with an appetizer, “your days of drudging are over forever!”
She raised her eyebrows in question, and he went on: “I’ve ordered Tsuda to have a couple of Ainu women up here in the morning for you to break in.”
“Servants, Ferd?” She was amazed.
“Quite at your disposal, my dear. And if they don’t keep hustling and leave you free to fold your hands like a lady, you let me know!”
“But Ferd—I don’t want any servants—I don’t need any!”
“Oh, yes you do. I know how you hate to wash and sweep.”
“But not any more, Ferd—I’d be quite lost without the housework, what little there is!”
However, he didn’t like having his efforts set at naught. “Nonsense,”—his tone was slightly dictatorial. “I don’t propose to have you spend your life slaving.”
“Please tell them not to come,” she said, turning a little pale, yet not quite consciously taking a stand. “I don’t want any servants.”