“When would you like to have it, Minerva?” said I, hoping that the sniffing would cease. Sniffs are not a part of diplomacy, by any means. “If you had it at five o’clock, I’d get to bed at eight.” “Five o’clock is ridiculous,” burst out Ethel. I looked at her warningly, but she did not pay any attention to my signal. “No, Minerva,” said she. “Six o’clock is plenty early enough.” “Well,” said Minerva, actually putting her hands on her hips, a new attitude for her, “I’m on’y staying now to oblige, and I’ll have to go back, I reckon.” Now this was a little too much, but for the sake of keeping her and the health of my wife at any cost, I said: “Well, Minerva, I suppose that in spite of Mrs. Vernon’s objection to the hour we’ll have dinner at five, but I tell you plainly that it is because I do not want Mrs. Vernon to be left without a servant.” “You’re a very ungrateful girl, Minerva,” said Ethel with a strange lack of tact. “Mr. Vernon has put up with a great deal from you, and you act as if you were ill treated.” “I’m kep’ a prisoner in the country, an’ that’s ill treatment all right,” said Minerva, sullenly, and I motioned to Ethel and we left the kitchen together. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER VII MINERVA’S PASTORAL. NEXT morning was a pleasant one, and as soon as breakfast was over I went out into the kitchen and told Minerva that if her friend did not delay, her musical instrument ought to arrive by Friday. I found her in her usual state of good temper. “That little place where you were sewing, out there in the woods, will be a very good spot in which to play it,” said I suggestively. “Oh, I kin play it anywheys,” said she with a kindling glance, that bespoke the artist of temperament, absolute master of his instrument. So Paderewski might speak of his ability to play a piano in a drawing-room car. That morning I had a notion to go fishing, and I asked Ethel to join me, but she said she was tired, and laughed as she said it. Of course Minerva was the real reason. “I wish that houses were automatic,” said I, “so that they could run themselves. Just think how nice it would be to have a house fitted to run by steam all day long, by simply dropping a five dollar gold piece in the slot in the morning.” “How expensive,” said the economical Ethel.