"What was it?" Mrs. Colebrook asked the question haughtily,
imperiously.

Susan's eyes grew cold like steel.

"It was what he asked for, ma'am, an' he's ate it. Do you want your
tea strong or weak, ma'am?"

Mrs. Colebrook bit her lip.

"I'll not take any tea at all," she said coldly. "And, Susan!"

"Yes, ma'am." Susan turned, her hand on the doorknob.

"Hereafter I will take up Master Keith's meals myself. He is in my
charge now."

There was no reply--in words. But the dining-room door after Susan
shut with a short, crisp snap.

After supper Mrs. Colebrook went out into the kitchen.

"You may prepare oatmeal and dry toast and a glass of milk for Master
Keith to-morrow morning, Susan. I will take them up myself."

"He won't eat 'em. He don't like 'em--not none of them things."

"I think he will if I tell him to. At all events, they are what he
should eat, and you may prepare them as I said."