"I didn't see ye afore, Miss Anna. I'so mighty glad you've come;" and
Jeffy atoned for his former omission by his present joy.
"How is he?" I questioned Jeffy, as if I knew all the antecedents of the case perfectly.
"Oh, he's jolly to-night. I think Master Percival might have let me stay to see the fun;" and Jeffy's eyes rolled to and fro in their orbits, as if anxious to strike against some wandering comet.
"Is tea over?" I asked.
"No, miss. Master said he'd wait for you. I'll go and tell that you're here;" and Jeffy took himself off, eager for action.
He was not long gone.
"It's all ready, waiting a bit for master. He can't come down just this minute," said Jeffy. "Look a here, Miss Anna,—isn't it vastly funny master's bringing a crazy man here? They say down in the kitchen, that as how it wouldn't 'a' been, if you'd been home. It's real good, though. It's the splendidest thing that's happened. Wait till you see him perform. Ask him to sing. It's frolicky to hear him."
The boy went on, and I did not stop him. I was as anxious for information as he to impart it. When he paused for breath, in the width of detail that he furnished, I asked,—
"When was this stranger brought here?"
"Three days ago, Miss Anna, I hope he'll stay forever and ever;" and
Jeffy darted off at a mellifluous sound that dropped down from above.