"I do, mum; an' may I cross my feet this day if I stay in the same house wid hur another week. She ain't my sort, mum!"
Still Mrs. Belknap hesitated. Jane was proving herself a most intelligent caretaker for the idolized Buster. Indeed his mother was forced to acknowledge that that young person's conduct showed a not inconspicuous improvement since he had been under the firm but gentle rule of English Jane. On the other hand, Mary's bread and rolls were faultless, her pastry and salads beyond criticism, and her laundry work exhibited a snowy whiteness and smoothness most gratifying to the eye and touch of a dainty woman like Mrs. Belknap; singularly enough, not a single MacGrotty relative had sickened or died since the advent of Jane.
This last reflection colored her next remark. "You have been much more reliable lately, Mary," she observed thoughtfully, "and we all like your cooking."
"Reliable!" echoed Miss MacGrotty warmly, "reliable? Ain't I always reliable? Why, mum, in the last place where I wuz workin' four years to the day, an' where I'd be yet on'y the leddy died—a shwate, purty leddy she wuz, too. Often's the toime I've said to meself, 'Mis' Belknap's the livin' image of hur,' I says, an' that's why I can't bear to be leavin' yez, mum. But, as I wuz sayin', Mis' Peterson she wud be sayin': 'Oh, Mary MacGrotty!' she says, 'I don't know what I'd be doin' widout you,' she says. 'You're that reliable,' she says. Of course, I've had turrible luck wid me family bein' tuk bad since I lived wid you. But, the saints be praised! they're all well an' hearty now, exceptin' me brother's youngest gurl that's bad wid her fut from bein' run over by a milk wagon. Yis, mum, a turrible accident, it wuz, mum. Hev ye looked in hur things?"
"Have I what?" faltered Mrs. Belknap.
"Looked in that gurl's trunk, mum," repeated Miss MacGrotty in a ghostly whisper. "If you ain't, you'd better; that's all."
"Oh, I shouldn't like to do that. Dear, dear! what ought I to do, anyway?"
"A workin' gurl what brags of havin' a goold watch wid a dimon' in the back, an' a locket wid pearls an' two goold rings, wan of 'em wid a foine blue stone in it, ain't honest, I sh'd say."
"Did Jane——?"
"I seen 'em wid me own eyes," affirmed Miss MacGrotty dramatically. "'Where did you git the loikes o' thim?' I says to 'er. 'They wuz giv to me,' she says, 'in me last place,' she says."