Considering the lumbago, Mr. Tubbs stepped forward with amazing alacrity. He was quite willing to prevent his small “world” being “turned upside down” by this fresh consignment from the far west. But his obliging readiness fell powerless before the caballero’s obtuse serenity.
“Ten thousand pardons, most charming Señora, but whatever will serve my hostess serves me. Old Sutro is not particular.”
“But—gracious!” retorted Resolved, and began an explanation which was cut short by Steenie’s reappearance with the request: “Please get me some alfalfa, or oats, or something for my Tito’s dinner; will you, Mr. Tubbs?”
“Steenie, there is nothing for a horse to eat here. I have not kept one in many years. The last one was your father’s, before he left home. This animal must be taken elsewhere for the present.”
“Grandmother! My Tito? After so long, long a journey? Oh, no, no, no!”
“But, my child, be reasonable. The stable is—”
“’Xcuse my interrupting, but it’s just as nice as nice. They’s a lovely box-stall, only wants taking those old rubbishy things out of it; an’ places for everything. We can go to the shop where you buy things for horses, and buy him all he needs. Same’s you bought my clothes. An’ then such fun! Won’t Papa be glad! And Sutro—forgive me not thinking ’bout you, too. Are you hungry, dear Sutro? You’re ’most always, don’t you know?”
“Ah, Señorita! The food on the way was not of Ellen’s sort. In verity, I would like a dish of—”
“A’most anything, no? Grandmother, may Mary Jane cook Sutro some dinner?”
“Hm. It must be near the dinner-hour for all of us; and you may invite your old friend for this one meal.” The significance of the lady’s tone was not lost upon her ancient servitor, Resolved, but it was—wholly—upon the happy unconsciousness of these two reunited comrades, whom Madam Calthorp watched with growing interest; even herself forgetting, as Steenie had utterly forgotten, that there was such a thing as school and its duties.