“Very well,” I said, to her evident amazement. “I will make out the check. Warner can take you down to the noon train.”
Liddy’s face was really funny.
“You’ll have a nice time at your sister’s,” I went on. “Five children, hasn’t she?”
“That’s it,” Liddy said, suddenly bursting into tears. “Send me away, after all these years, and your new shawl only half done, and nobody knowin’ how to fix the water for your bath.”
“It’s time I learned to prepare my own bath.” I was knitting complacently. But Gertrude got up and put her arms around Liddy’s shaking shoulders.
“You are two big babies,” she said soothingly. “Neither one of you could get along for an hour without the other. So stop quarreling and be good. Liddy, go right up and lay out Aunty’s night things. She is going to bed early.”
After Liddy had gone I began to think about the men at the stable, and I grew more and more anxious. Halsey was aimlessly knocking the billiard-balls around in the billiard-room, and I called to him.
“Halsey,” I said when he sauntered in, “is there a policeman in Casanova?”
“Constable,” he said laconically. “Veteran of the war, one arm; in office to conciliate the G. A. R. element. Why?”
“Because I am uneasy to-night.” And I told him what Liddy had said. “Is there any one you can think of who could be relied on to watch the outside of the house to-night?”