"The divil a step will I take out of this place to make way for a haythen Jap." Shebegan taking off her hat. "I'll have the squab on in a minute, Mr. Hamshaw, and I'll serve it, too." This last with a deadly look at Sago. "He says he'll quit if I don't. Well, I don't!"
"Will you make the dressing for the salad, sir, or shall I?" politely inquired Sago, ignoring Ellen completely.
"Have you decided to stay long enough for that purpose?" demanded Mr. Hamshaw.
"I have given notice, sir, that Ellen has to go," said Sago soberly.
"And I refuse to go for the loikes of you," retorted Ellen with great dignity.
"Then, Mr. Hamshaw, I shall remain until she does go. But go she must."
"I'll go when I get good and ready, Mr. Sago."
"We'll have the squab now, Sago," said Mr. Hamshaw.
"Very good, sir."
It was quite an old story among the members of the club, especially those who knew Mr. Hamshaw intimately, that he had once felt the inclination to take unto himself a wife. That, of course, was years and years ago, and it is hardly necessary to remark that the young woman, whoever she may have been, was not possessed of a responsive inclination. Result: Mr. Hamshaw not only refrained from marrying any one in all the subsequent years but astutely prevented any one from marrying him. It was quite true that at fifty-seven he was not a thing of beauty, but he had a heart of gold and was beloved by all the men and children who knew him. Certainly it is quite doubtful if he could have been all this had he married even the woman of his choice.