"Please explain."
"What is there to explain? She merely gave your pedigree, as we'd say at the dog show, begging your pardon, ma'am. Pedigrees are a sort of hobby with the mater. She collects 'em wherever she goes."
He gave his moustache a little twist.
"Then my references are satisfactory, so to speak," said she, with a wry little smile.
"Perfectly," said he, with conviction; "if we are to put any dependence in the intelligence office."
"Doesn't it stagger Mrs. Wrandall somewhat to reconcile my pedigree to the position I occupy in Sara's household—that of companion, so to say?" asked Hetty, a slight curl to her lip.
He looked rather blank. "I don't believe she looks at you in just that light," said he uncomfortably.
"I fancy you'd better enlighten her."
"Let well enough alone," quoted he glibly.
"But I AM a companion," insisted Hetty, a little spot of red in each cheek.