“But——” began Millicent.
“No, we will not touch a thing until the inventory is made. No ‘competent, reliable’ person would think of doing work like this without an inventory. We’ll wait in the other room until you have made it.”
There was nothing to do but proceed with the inventory. It was plain that Madeleine knew the manner of person she was dealing with.
While the two girls waited in the big sitting room, now a studio, Madeleine drew a book from her ulster pocket and began to study. The little Southerner was never idle one moment of her waking day and the other seven hours she put in sleeping very soundly. Judith began to look about her.
The room was little changed from the old days, except that it was even richer in aspect. There were some splendid old altar pieces on the walls and a piece of beautiful old rose brocade hung between the studio and the den. But, after all, what did it come to? Was anyone really fond of Millicent with all her wealth? Why, Judith, poor and forgotten, had made a friend. She felt small tenderness toward the rest of the world, but she loved Madeleine.
Molly Brown came into the room at this stage in Judith’s reflections.
“Why, hello, girls!” she exclaimed cordially, shaking hands with the silver-rubbers. “Where is Millicent?”
“She is making an inventory of her valuables before we begin to clean them,” replied Madeleine, smiling sweetly and blinking both eyes at once. “We insisted, because it would have been unprofessional not to have had one.”
“The idea!” said Molly. “No, it wouldn’t. Besides, you’re not professionals.”
“Yes, we are,” insisted Madeleine. “Everything we do for money is professional work.”