“I'm glad to know that. I'll make it my business to be up in the mountains at the time. I'm for peace, every rattle out of the box. Gentlemen, you've cheered me wonderfully. I will now go home and leave you to your evil machinations; and, the good Lord and the jiggers willing, I shall yet glean a night's sleep.”
He shook hands all around and took his departure. Mother Jenks was waiting for Webster at the foot of the stairs. He paused on the threshold.
“Mrs. Jenks,” he said, “Billy tells me you have been very kind to him. I want to tell you how much I appreciate it and that I stand willing to reciprocate any time you are in need.”
Mother Jenks fingered her beard and reflected. “'Ave you met Miss Dolores Ruey, sir?” she queried.
“Your ward? Yes.”
“'Ow does the lamb strike you, Mr. Webster?”
“I have never met many women; I have known few intimately; but I should say that Miss Dolores Ruey is the marvel of her sex. She is as beautiful as she is good, as good as she is intelligent, and as intelligent as she can be.”
“She's a lydy, sir,” Mother Jenks affirmed proudly. “An' I done it. You can see with arf a heye wot I am, but for all that, I've done my dooty by her. From the day my sainted 'Enery— 'e was a colonel o' hartillery under President Ruey, Dolores's father—hescaped from the burnin' palace with 'er an' told me to raise 'er a lydy for the syke of her father, as was the finest gentleman this rotten country 'll ever see, she's been my guidin' star. She's self-supportin' now, but still I ain't done my whole dooty by her. I want to see 'er married to a gentleman as 'll maintain 'er like a lydy.”
“Well, Mrs. Jenks, I think you will live to see that worthy ambition, attained. Mr. Geary is head over heels in love with her.”
“Aye. Willie's a nice lad—I could wish no better; but wot 'e's got 'e got from you, an' where'll 'e be if 'is mine doesn't p'y big? Now, with you, sir, it's different. You're a bit oldern' Billy, an' more settled an' serious; you've made yer fortune, so Willie tells me, an', not to go beatin' about the bally bush, I s'y, wot's the matter with you an' her steppin' over the broomstick together? You might go a bloomin' sight farther an' fare wuss.”