I was not regaled with the new
cook's extravagance as to eggs, and she even forbore to mention
"that Jamieson," on whose arrival she had looked with silent
disfavor.
"What's the matter, Liddy?" I asked at last. "Didn't you sleep
last night?"
"No, ma'm," she said stiffly.
"Did you have two cups of coffee at your dinner?" I inquired.
"No, ma'm," indignantly.
I sat up and almost upset my hot water--I always take a cup of
hot water with a pinch of salt, before I get up. It tones the
stomach.
"Liddy Allen," I said, "stop combing that switch and tell me what
is wrong with you."
Liddy heaved a sigh.
"Girl and woman," she said, "I've been with you twenty-five
years, Miss Rachel, through good temper and bad--" the idea! and
what I have taken from her in the way of sulks!--"but I guess I
can't stand it any longer. My trunk's packed."
"Who packed it?" I asked, expecting from her tone to be told she
had wakened to find it done by some ghostly hand.
"I did; Miss Rachel, you won't believe me when I tell you this
house is haunted. Who was it fell down the clothes chute?
Who was it scared Miss Louise almost into her grave?"
"I'm doing my best to find out," I said. "What in the world are
you driving at?" She drew a long breath.
"There is a hole in the trunk-room wall, dug out since last
night. It's big enough to put your head in, and the plaster's
all over the place."
"Nonsense!" I said. "Plaster is always falling."
But Liddy clenched that.
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