"Thanks, Katie," interrupted Trotter. "Did Mrs. Millidew say when she would see me?"
"Soon as she gets something on," said Katie.
At that moment, a door slammed violently on the floor above. There was a swift swish of skirts, and then the vivid, angry face of Mrs. Millidew, the younger, came suddenly into view. She leaned far out over the banister rail and searched the hallway below with quick, roving eyes.
"Are you there, Trotter?" she called out in a voice that trembled perceptibly.
He advanced a few paces, stopping beside the newel post. He looked straight up into her eyes.
"Yes, Mrs. Millidew."
"You begin driving for me today," she said hurriedly. "Do you understand?"
"But, madam, I am not open to—"
"Yes, you are," she interrupted. "You don't know it, but you are out of a job, Trotter."
"I am not surprised," he said.