Colebrook, with a fresh burst of sobs.

"I notice some things have to be stood," observed Susan grimly. Susan,
with Mrs. Colebrook's traveling-bag in her hand, was waiting with
obvious impatience to escort her visitor upstairs to her room.

Susan's terse comment accomplished what Daniel Burton's admonition had
been quite powerless to bring about. Mrs. Colebrook stopped sobbing at
once, and drew herself somewhat haughtily erect.

"And, pray, who is this?" she demanded, looking from one to the other.

"Well, 'this' happens to be the hired girl, an' she's got some
biscuits in the oven," explained Susan crisply. "If you'll be so good,
ma'am, I'll show you upstairs to your room."

"Daniel!" appealed Mrs. Colebrook, plainly aghast.

But her brother, with a helpless gesture, had turned away, and Susan,
bag in hand, was already halfway up the stairs. With heightened color
and a muttered "Impertinence!" Mrs. Colebrook turned and followed
Susan to the floor above.

A little way down the hall Susan threw open a door.

"I swept, but I didn't have no time to dust," she announced as she put
down the bag. "There's a duster in that little bag there. Don't lock
the door. Somethin' ails it. If you do you'll have to go out the
window down a ladder. There's towels in the top drawer, an' you'll
have to fill the pitcher every day, 'cause there's a crack an' it