me
there are too many men in this kitchen in the course of the day."

"Well, goodness knows they're not here to please me," said Jane-Ellen.

Tucker, who understood that this reply had to be made, wished,
nevertheless, that she had not made it with such a convincing sincerity
of manner. He turned and left the kitchen, and, as he went up the piazza
stairs, became aware that the boy was following him.

He stood still at the top, therefore, and asked with that hectoring tone
which many people think so desirable to use with servants:

"What's this? You wish to speak to me?"

The boy hardly troubled to approximate civility as he answered:

"Yes; I just wanted to tell you that Jane-Ellen is my sister."

Tucker laughed with indulgent good humor.

"Indeed," he said. "Well, I cannot confess, Brindlebury, to taking a
very deep interest in your family relations."

"It's this much interest, that I don't want you going into the kitchen
to talk to her."

"Tut, tut," said Tucker. "I think I shall have to report you to your
employer."

"And I may have to report you."

This was so beyond the bounds of convention that Tucker thought best to
ignore it. He merely turned on his heel and walked into the house,
where, in the hall, he found the two Falkener ladies taking off their
coats.

Mrs. Falkener was all graciousness. She was engaged in unwinding a veil
from her face, and as she freed her nose from its meshes she said
briskly:

"And how is the housekeeping going? How is your staff working?"

Crane got them into the drawing-room, where tea was waiting. Mrs.
Falkener spoke to him, but she cast a secret glance of question at
Tucker. Under most circumstances he would have replied by raising his
eyebrows, shrugging his shoulders, closing his eyes, or conveying in
some manner the true reply to her demand. But now he merely looked into
his teacup, which he was diligently stirring. He found himself uncertain
what to do. He had no intention of mentioning the afternoon's incidents
to Crane. He did not wish, he told himself, to tell on a poor young
woman, and perhaps deprive her of her job. Besides, it is very difficult
to tell a story in which you have been an eavesdropper, and tell it with
any sort of flourish and satisfaction. The geography of the balcony was
such that he would have to confess either to having leaned as far over
the rail as possible, or else to having been in the kitchen. But the
insolence of the boy Brindlebu