Tucker was more apt to meet an awkward situation--and the situation was slightly awkward--by an additional dignity of manner rather than by any ill-considered action. "Ah," he now observed, "in that case I think I must go and meet it." "I think I would, if I were you," replied the boy, and added to the cook, in case there was any mistake about his meaning: "It seems to me there are too many men in this kitchen in the course of the day." "Well, goodness knows they're not here to please me," said Jane-Ellen. Tucker, who understood that this reply had to be made, wished, nevertheless, that she had not made it with such a convincing sincerity of manner. He turned and left the kitchen, and, as he went up the piazza stairs, became aware that the boy was following him. He stood still at the top, therefore, and asked with that hectoring tone which many people think so desirable to use with servants: "What's this? You wish to speak to me?" The boy hardly troubled to approximate civility as he answered: "Yes; I just wanted to tell you that Jane-Ellen is my sister." Tucker laughed with indulgent good humor. "Indeed," he said. "Well, I cannot confess, Brindlebury, to taking a very deep interest in your family relations." "It's this much interest, that I don't want you going into the kitchen to talk to her." "Tut, tut," said Tucker. "I think I shall have to report you to your employer." "And I may have to report you." This was so beyond the bounds of convention that Tucker thought best to ignore it. He merely turned on his heel and walked into the house, where, in the hall, he found the two Falkener ladies taking off their coats. Mrs. Falkener was all graciousness. She was engaged in unwinding a veil from her face, and as she freed her nose from its meshes she said briskly: "And how is the housekeeping going? How is your staff working?"