With a thrust of the hand he pushed Harold back and was about to shut
the door upon him when, with a quick, dextrous movement, Harold darted
past him into the hall, saying, as he did so:

'Darn you, Tom Tracy, I won't go to the back kitchen door, and I'm not a
servant, and if you call me so again I'll lick you!'

How the matter would have ended is doubtful, if Mrs. Tracy had not
called from the head of the stairs:

'Thomas! Thomas Tracy! I am ashamed of you! Come to me this minute! And
you, boy, go to the kitchen; or, no--now you are here, come up stairs,
and I'll tell you what you are to do.'

Her directions were much like those of Dick St. Claire, except that she
laid more stress upon the fact that he was not to speak to any one
familiarly, but was to be in all respects a machine. Just what she meant
by that Harold did not know; but he hung his cap on a bracket, and
taking his place where she told him to stand, watched her admiringly as
she went down the staircase, with her peach-blow satin trailing behind
her, and followed, by her husband, who looked and felt anxious and ill
at ease.

Tom had disappeared, but his younger brother, Jack, who was wholly
unlike him, came to Harold's side, and began telling him what quantities
of good things there were in the dining-room and pantry, and that his
Uncle Arthur was coming home that night, and his mother was so glad, she
cried; then, with a spring he mounted upon the banister of the long
staircase and slipped swiftly to the bottom. Ascending the stairs almost