"Oh, do you like that name? I'm so glad, sir." And at this they smiled
at each other.

"Don't you think you had better go back to the kitchen, Jane-Ellen?"
said the butler sternly.

In the meantime, Tucker had lighted a cigar and had slightly recovered
his equanimity.

"As a matter of fact," he now said, in a deep, growling voice, "I did
not kick the creature at all--though, if I had, I should have considered
myself fully justified. I merely assisted its progress down the kitchen
stairs with a sort of push with my foot."

"It was a kick to Willoughby," said the cook, in spite of a quick effort
on Smithfield's part to keep her quiet.

"O Tuck!" cried Crane, "it takes a lawyer, doesn't it, to distinguish
between a kick and an assisting push with the foot. Well, Jane-Ellen,"
he went on, turning to her, "I think it's not too much to ask that
Willoughby be kept in the kitchen hereafter."

"I'm sure he has no wish to go where he's not wanted," she replied
proudly, and at this instant Willoughby entered exactly as before. All
four watched him in a sort of hypnotic inactivity. As before, he walked
with a slow, firm step to the chair in which Tucker sat, and, as before,
jumped upon his knee. But this time Tucker did not move. He only looked
at Willoughby and sneered.

Jane-Ellen, with the gesture of a mother rescuing an innocent babe from
massacre, sprang forward and snatched the cat up in her arms. Then she
turned on her heel and left the room. As she did so, the face of
Willoughby over her shoulder distinctly grinned at the discomfited
Tucker.

Not unnaturally, Tucker took what he could from the situation.

"If I were you, Burt," he said, "I should get rid of that young woman.
She is not a suitable cook for a bachelor's establishment. She's too
pretty and she knows it."

"Well, she wouldn't have sense enough to cook so well, if she didn't
know it."

"It seems to me she trades on her looks when she comes up here and makes
a scene like this."

"Beg pardon, sir," said Smithfield, with a slightly heightened color,
"Jane-Ellen is a very good, respectable girl."

"Certainly, she is," said Crane, rising. "Nothing could be more obvious.
Just run down, Smithfield, and ask her to send up a menu for to-night's
dinner." Then, as the man left the room, he added to his friend:

"Sorry, Tuck, if I seem lacking in respect for you and your wishes, but
I really couldn't dismiss such a good cook because you think her a
litt