"You don't," cried Maria, bridling again, "Well, then, I do. I propose to see that that young man gets his rights. I'm far from bein' a rich woman, but I've saved up a plump little sum out o' my wages and Cliff shall have every dollar of it to help him fight for his share of the fortune that his grandmother left, and if you was clothed and in your right mind you'd want him to have the rest of it when you're done with it.
"What are you thinking of, Squire Talford," she went on, glowing with indignation, "to nurse, at your time o' life, such a spite against such a splendid fellow like Clifford Faxon—a fellow that any man might be proud to own as a son? Haven't you any gratitude for what he's done for you? You'd have been burned to a cinder and lyin' under them brick walls outside, but for him; he did what precious few men would have done that night o' the fire, to save a man he knew hated him and had abused him as you did when he was a boy.
"And that ain't all, neither; he gave up this nice room to you and has been sleepin' in a back room that's little better'n a closet, at the end o' the hall, so's he could be handy to spell me when I had to rest. And he's set up watchin' with you, night after night, just as faithful 's if you was his own father. I could never have done it alone; for, squire, you came mighty nigh slippin' over Jordan some o' them nights—mighty nigh. Man alive! haven't you got any heart? What are you made of, anyway? Waal," drawing a long breath and looking a trifle frightened as she began to realize that she had been holding forth with more vigor than discretion, "I guess I've said enough for now, and I'll leave you to think it over. I've got that box in my trunk, and if you don't see fit to do the square thing by Cliff I shall give it to him, tell him all I know and then you an' I'll settle our accounts."
The woman arose as she concluded and walked quietly from the room, leaving the squire to meditate, in no enviable frame of mind, upon a situation which he had never dreamed would overtake him.
Maria did not go near him again until luncheon-time, when she carried him a tray of daintily prepared viands that would have tempted an epicure.
She watched him out of the corners of her eyes while she arranged his table, and the thoughtful expression on his face appeared to afford her an immense amount of satisfaction, for two or three times, when she passed behind his chair, she nodded her head with a gratified air which spoke volumes.
The man did not refer to the conversation of the morning, but there was that in his manner and in the tones of his voice whenever he addressed her, which assured her that he did not think any the less of her for the stand she had taken.
She kept out of his way during most of the afternoon, also, giving as a reason that she was going to be busy in the laundry, but at night, as at noon, his dinner was prepared with the greatest care and nicety.
"You are a good cook, Maria," he remarked as she brought him a second cup of coffee, the aroma of which pervaded the whole room, "and," he added gravely, "you have proved yourself to be a tip-top nurse."
"Thank you, sir," Maria respectfully responded and flushing with pleasure at the unusual praise; "I had a good woman to train me—Mis' Talford made me what I am, and I'm not backward to give her the credit of it; she was a prime housekeeper and one o' the salt o' the earth."