“No; I wish you wouldn’t run that word ‘hate’ so hard.”
“Well, ‘detest’ then. Do you remember that wall-eyed housemaid with pink cheeks that we had three years ago?”
“Yes.”
“One day I saw Uncle Colonel kissing her in the back hall, and she looked as if she liked it, and then he kissed her again, and she said, ‘Law sir, there might be some one lookin’.’ I went up behind and gave her a slap on the back, and said, ‘You saucy hussy, get to your work,’ and I said to Uncle Colonel, ‘You old fool!’ and I have never liked him since. I don’t see what gentlemen want to kiss servants for, when there are flocks of ladies who would be proud and happy of the honor; do you, Stanton?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Did you ever kiss a woman, Stanton?”
“I once had a mother, Judy.”
“You are begging the question; but your mother was lovely, wasn’t she? In that painting in your room she has a sweet, patient face like a nun’s. I don’t see how she got on with Uncle Colonel; probably he hastened her end. Mammy Juniper says you are more like her than Val. Hush, my sweet saint is waking up. No, she isn’t. I want to beat myself sometimes when I think how hateful I was to her when she came.”
“What did you do?”
“I teased her; but soon I began to like her, and now I could not live without her, and if she leaves Pinewood I shall go too,” and Judy threw a defiant glance up at the man standing over her.