"I did it myself with a red-hot poker," she said proudly.
I gazed from her to the sign-board, all but speechless. "It's very well done," I managed to get out at last.
"Yes, isn't it? But, somehow, it doesn't keep the boys from coming. They're not at all law-abiding. I don't think they've been very well brought up. And then, of course, they're not accustomed to seeing any one in charge here." She looked around, and smoothed her apron with the most astonishing little air of resource and command. "I saw a bill with the names at the bottom that way, and per So-and-So below, so I copied it," she continued, surveying her handiwork fondly.
"Ah? You are Miss Mary Smith?"
"Yes." And now she looked at me, and away again, with a strange and sudden flush. "Yes, Smith. That's—that's a very good name, I think." There was a kind of tremulous defiance in her tone, as if she half expected me to question it.
"I've heard it before, I believe," said I stupidly—for, in fact, I had scarcely yet got myself together. "You live here?"
She nodded, with a perplexed and inquiring eye on me. "I'm Captain Pendarves' housekeeper," she said, with a prim and bridling air, and once more her expression challenged me. "Deny it if you can, sir!" was evidently her unspoken thought.
"And how long has my—ahem!—has Captain Pendarves been employing you, may I ask?" I said, wondering that Crump had not prepared me for this as for the other changes.
"Young man," said Mary Smith severely, "I have no time to stand here answering idle questions. If you want to see Captain Pendarves, I will speak to him; but if not, I really think you had better be getting on, for it's late."
"I was thinking of stopping awhile," said I humbly, "with my grandfather. You see, I'm Nicol Pendarves."