Part 62 (1/2)

”What do you s'pose I care about the law?” She turned to Estella Griggs, who was watching her eagerly, with a gathering light of fierce greed in her eyes. ”If you take my advice you'll help yourself to something while you have the chance,” said she.

”Oh, Minna, it's stealin'! You'll be liable--”

”Liable to nothin'. Stealin'! If folks don't steal no more 'n I do, I'll risk 'em. I'm a-takin' my lawful pay, I be. If you take my advice, you'll take somethin', too.”

Minna Eddy moved from the room with the rug gathered up in a roll in her arms, but Marie had been gradually recovering herself. Now she came forward.

”You must not take that; that iss not your rug,” said she. ”You must not take that.”

”Git out,” said Minna Eddy. She thrust at the Hungarian with her rug-laden arms, but the little peasant was as strong as she. Marie caught hold of the rug and pulled; Minna also pulled.

”You lemme go,” said Minna, with a vicious voice, but lowered, for obvious reason.

”You must not take that,” said Marie. She was, however, rather fainter-hearted than the other woman.

Minna suddenly got the mastery. The Hungarian almost tumbled backward. Minna, with the rug, was out of the room, her trembling, almost whimpering husband at her heels. Madame Griggs looked at Marie. Her distorted face was at once greedy, anguished, and cunning.

She began to gasp softly.

”Oh! Oh!” said she. ”Oh!”

Marie regarded her in wondering agitation.

”Water! water! quick! Oh, get some water!” moaned Madame Griggs. ”I am faint! Water!” She sank into a chair, her head fell back. She rolled her eyes at the terrified girl; she gasped feebly between her parted lips.

Marie ran. Then up rose Madame Estella Griggs. She swept the tea-table of its little Dresden service and some small, silver spoons. She gathered them up in a little, lace-trimmed table-cover, and she fled with that booty and a sofa-pillow which she caught from the divan on her way out.

When Marie returned she stood gaping with the gla.s.s of water. She was not over-shrewd, but she took in at once the situation. She understood that the second lady had fled like the first, with the teacups, the spoons, the table-cover, and the sofa-pillow. She stood looking desolately around the room, and her simple heart tasted its own bitterness.

Chapter x.x.x

Charlotte had followed her father and aunt up-stairs that night, starting up softly like a shadow from her place in the hall. She went silently behind them until they reached the open door of Anna's room; then her father turned and saw her.

”You here, Charlotte?” he said.

”Yes, papa,” replied Charlotte, turning a pitiful but altogether stanch little face up to his.

He put his arm around her, drew her head against his shoulder, tipped up her face, and kissed her. ”Go to bed now, darling,” he whispered.

”Papa, I can't; I--”

”There is nothing you can do, sweetheart; there is nothing for you to worry about. Papa will take care of you always, whatever happens. Go to bed now, and go to sleep, honey.”

”But, papa, I can't sleep. Let me stay and--”

”No, dear. There is nothing you can do. It will only worry me to have you stay. Go to bed, and put all this out of your mind. It will all come right in the end.”

Carroll kissed Charlotte again, and put her gently from him, and she disappeared in her own room with a suppressed sob.

”I am glad Ina is out of the way,” Anna said, but with no bitterness.