groom seemed to be completely exhausted--and that was all. She
rose, in her easy graceful way, and looked out of the window at
the courtyard and fountain, the house-dog in his kennel, and the
box of flowers in the coachman's window.

In the meanwhile, the groom remained near the table, respectfully
waiting for his dismissal. The General spoke to him sharply, for
the first time. I could see that my good uncle had noticed the
cruel tone of that passing reference to the parents, and thought
of it as I did.

"One word more, before you go," he said. "If I don't find you
more mercifully inclined toward my horses than you seem to be
toward your father and mother, you won't remain long in my
service. You might have told me you had never heard who your
parents were, without speaking as if you didn't care to hear."

"May I say a bold word, sir, in my own defense?"

He put the question very quietly, but, at the same time, so
firmly that he even surprised my aunt. She looked round from the
window--then turned back again, and stretched out her hand toward
the curtain, intending, as I supposed, to alter the arrangement
of it. The groom went on.

"May I ask, sir, why I should care about a father and mother who
deserted me? Mind what you are about, my lady!" he
cried--suddenly addressing my aunt. "There's a cat in the folds
of that curtain; she might frighten you."