informed you that I had once had a
cook and a footman who were married, and who paid so much attention to
one another that they had time to pay no attention to me. I then asked
you if you were married. You informed me you were not."

"And I was not, at that time."

"Indeed! Then you have married since. That makes your deception
all the worse. Remember, Miss Gardner, it was on the distinct
understanding that you were unmarried that I employed you. I have
no desire to pass judgment upon you. I try to be fair and just and
generous with all my employees. If you had been what you declared
yourself to be, and remained such, you could have stayed with me
indefinitely. Matilda there came to me as my son's nurse over twenty
years ago, and has been with me ever since--happy, as she will tell
you, with no desire to change her state whatever."

"N--no--none--none at all!"

Matilda hastily dropped her eyes. Mechanically her eyes noted the
rejected card Mr. Bradford had tendered Miss Gardner. Her long habit
of perfect orderliness, and perhaps the impulse to hide the slight
confusion that suddenly had seized upon her, prompted her to bend over
and secure this bit of litter. She glanced at it, would have put it
in the waste-basket had that receptacle not been across the room, then
thrust it into the capacious slit-pocket of her black skirt.

Mrs. De Peyster continued in her tone of exact justice: "Miss Gardner,
you have the perfect right to be married or unmarried. I have the
perfect right to have the sort of employees I prefer. But since you
are not what you declared yourself to be, I no longer require your
service."

Miss Gardner bowed stiffly.

"Matilda, see that Miss Gardner is paid in full to the end of her
month; and also pay her one month in advance. And telephone about
until you can find me a maid--do not bother about the secretary part
of it--a maid who is _not_ married, and who can come at once. That is
all."

Matilda, still somewhat pale and agitated, started to follow out the
proud Miss Gardner, who gave a swift glance at the study door--while
Mrs. De Peyster looked on with her invariable calm majesty.

CHAPTER III

MISTRESS OF HER HOUSE

But at just this moment there was a smart rap at the library door, it
was partly opened, and a cheery masculine voice called out:--

"May I come in, mother?"

"You, Jack. You may," was the somewhat eager response from Mrs. De
Peyster.

The door swung entirely o