“Why not?” asked my uncle.
“I have taken a dislike to him.”
This short answer was so entirely out of the character of my aunt that the General took her kindly by the hand, and said:
“I am afraid you are not well.”
She irritably withdrew her hand.
“I don’t feel well. It doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter, Claudia. What can I do for you?”
“Write to the man—” She paused and smiled contemptuously. “Imagine a groom with an antipathy to cats!” she said, turning to me. “I don’t know what you think, Mina. I have a strong objection, myself, to servants who hold themselves above their position in life. Write,” she resumed, addressing her husband, “and tell him to look for another place.”
“What objection can I make to him?” the General asked, helplessly.
“Good heavens! can’t you make an excuse? Say he is too young.”