"You should have seen the look Mr. Evringham gave her. Just as if he
didn't see her at all. 'Yes,' he answered, 'I hope Mrs. Forbes will wait
on my table as long as I have one.' And I will if I have my health,"
added the speaker, bridling with renewed pleasure at the memory of that
triumphant moment. "They think I'm a machine without any feelings or
opinions, and that I've been wound up to suit Mr. Evringham and run
his establishment, and that I'm no more to be considered than the big
Westminster clock on the stairs. Mrs. Evringham did try once to get into
my employer's rooms and look after his clothes." Mrs. Forbes shook her
head and tightened her lips at some recollection.

"She bucked up against the machine, did she?" inquired Zeke.

The housekeeper glanced around to see if any one might be approaching.

"I saw her go in there, and I followed her," she continued almost in a
whisper. "She sort of started, but spoke up in her cool way, 'I wish to
look over father's clothes and see if anything needs attention.'
'Thank you, Mrs. Evringham, but everything is in order,' I said, very
respectful. 'Well, leave it for me next time, Mrs. Forbes,' she says.
'I shall take care of him while I am here.' 'Thank you,' says I, 'but
he wouldn't want your visit interfered with by that kind of work.' She
looked at me sort of suspicious and haughty. 'I prefer to do it,' she
answers, trying to look holes in me with her big eyes. 'Then will you
ask him, please,' said I very polite, 'before I give you the keys,
because we've got into habits here. I've taken care of Mr. Evringham's
clothes for fifteen years.' She looked kind of set back. 'Is it so
long?' she asks. 'Well, I will see about it.' But I guess the right time
for seeing about it never came," added the housekeeper knowingly.