All of poor Minnie’s loves were so inordinate. She was to Alec as she was to her children, utterly and blindly devoted, without the least discretion or scruple. He knew that she didn’t love him in that way, but he felt it was because he was independent, didn’t need her so. Her whole life consisted in service for those weaker ones. The most superfluous services, that instead of helping hindered. She annoyed Alec by her futile and insistent attentions, by counting his cigarettes and deploring their number, by bringing him special dishes which were intended to fatten him. She denied Sandra nothing, no matter how injurious and stupid. She served her little son by carrying him in her arms continually, never let him alone in peace. Only to Mr. Petersen she did nothing but her duty, and not always that, though she didn’t realise it. The old disorder was re-established, on account of trouble with Mrs. Hansen. Minnie came into his little room one morning, frowning. “Chris,” she said. “You’ll have to tell that woman to go at once!” “Who, my dear?” “You know very well! That Hansen woman! _This_ time she’s surpassed herself. I never heard of such impudence. Never! There she was, the old--_creature_--snooping round in Alec’s room. Snooping!” Now Mr. Petersen had long been aware of this sole failing in an otherwise classically lofty character. He knew that Mrs. Hansen snooped. But, having no secrets, her snooping hadn’t particularly disturbed him. He realised, too, that for one of Minnie’s secretive nature, snooping must seem a crime; he knew by this time that _she_ had plenty of things to hide, queer little magpie stores, money she imagined she was saving, clothes she had ruined in the making, bills she didn’t wish seen. He thought it rather humorous. “That’s too bad,” he said, soothingly. “Still--perhaps if you speak to her----” “Indeed I shan’t. _You_ engaged her and _you_ can get rid of her. I will _not_ have her in the house. Poking her nose into everyone’s affairs. She’s got to go at once!” She heard the baby crying and turned to go. “I never did trust that woman,” she said, turning back at the door. “I always felt there was something queer when we missed all that food last autumn.” Mr. Petersen was stricken dumb. To accuse poor Mrs. Hansen of that! And such was the plausibility, the fatal assurance of Minnie’s manner, that he was almost inclined to disbelieve the evidence of his own eyes, to deny the facts known to him, and to put his faith in her words....