"I'll not take any tea at all," she said coldly. "And, Susan!"
"Yes, ma'am." Susan turned, her hand on the doorknob.
"Hereafter I will take up Master Keith's meals myself. He is in my charge now."
There was no reply—in words. But the dining-room door after Susan shut with a short, crisp snap.
After supper Mrs. Colebrook went out into the kitchen.
"You may prepare oatmeal and dry toast and a glass of milk for Master
Keith to-morrow morning, Susan. I will take them up myself."
"He won't eat 'em. He don't like 'em—not none of them things."
"I think he will if I tell him to. At all events, they are what he should eat, and you may prepare them as I said."
"Very well, ma'am."
Susan's lips came together in a thin, white line, and Mrs. Colebrook left the kitchen.