"It was extraordinary his connection with that man," assented Miriam. "I can't think what he kept him for—there's no doubt he employed him regularly."
Mrs. Perks tossed her head, rose and tightened her shawl again.
"Oh, I don't know. I never saw anything wrong except that Mr. Bartons came 'ome at all hours, and let all kinds of 'orrid creatures call on 'im; but I'm sure there was some devilment goin' on. Not that I ought to be surprised," cackled Mrs. Perks, "for the Bartons family was all of 'em mad as March 'ares."
"Mad?"
"Yes, Miss Cranes. His father drank 'orrid, and he was fond of low company for some wickedness I couldn't rightly make out. Mrs. Arkel, his sister, 'ad the temper of a demon, and Mrs. Darrow, his niece, 'as the same, as no doubts you know well. As for young Mr. Arkel, 'e's on 'is way to die of strong drink."
Miriam felt a thrill.
"You don't mean to say that Mr. Arkel drinks to excess?"
"I should jus' say 'e do. 'E comes 'ere at times and is drunk for days! Can't 'elp it, 'e sez—I'd 'elp 'im if I'd my way. There was another of 'em in an asylum; she was always stealin', couldn't 'elp it, it seemed no'ow. As for the morals of 'em, I blushes to think of the way they used to carry on. It's a blessin', I'm sure, that some of 'em's committed suicide."
"Major Dundas seems to be perfectly normal in every way."
"Oh, 'e's the proud and 'aughty sort, 'e is. I never 'eard anything worse than that about 'im. But 'e'll break out some day, Miss Cranes, never you fear. What's born in the Barton bones'll come out in the Barton flesh, mark my words if it don't."