"Oh, you dear old Conrad!" she cried, catching sight of the hitherto submerged Schmicks. The three of them bobbed and scraped and grinned from ear to ear. There could be no mistaking the intensity of their joy. "Don't look so sad, Conrad. I know you are blameless. You poor old dear!"
I have never seen any one who looked less sad than Conrad Schmick. Or could it be possible that he was crying instead of laughing? In either case I could not afford to have him doing it with such brazen discourtesy to me, so I rather peremptorily ordered him below.
"I will attend to you presently,—all of you," said I. They did not move. "Do you hear me?" I snapped angrily. They looked stolidly at the slim young lady.
She smiled, rather proudly, I thought. "You may go, Conrad. I shall not need you. Max, will you fetch up another scuttle of coal?"
They took their orders from her! It even seemed to me that Max moved swiftly, although it was doubtless a hallucination on my part, brought about by nervous excitement.
"By Jove!" I said, looking after my trusty men-servants as they descended. "I like this! Are they my servants or yours?"
"Oh, I suppose they are yours, Mr. Smart," she said carelessly. "Will you come in now, and make yourself quite at home?"
"Perhaps I'd better wait for a day or two," said I, wavering. "Your headache, you know. I can wait just as well as—"
"Oh, no. Since you've gone to all the trouble I suppose you ought to have something for your pains."
"Pains?" I murmured, and I declare to heaven I limped as I followed her through the door into a tiny hall.