"Very well; thank you! Then it is settled. Good night." And Missy went away, not exactly, it must be owned, as if she had received a favor, but as if hardly-wrung justice had been obtained for Gabrielle and Gabrielle's dead mother. That, at least, was how she felt--and Mr. Andrews wasn't altogether stupid. He sighed as he bent over Jay's crib, and smoothed the hair back on his pillow, screening the light from his eyes, and turning down the lamp; but he did not go near the bed of the offending Gabrielle, and left the room without another glance in her direction. CHAPTER XIV. YELLOWCOATS CALLS TO INQUIRE. The next morning, Missy managed to get away without encountering any one more formidable than Jay and the servants. Mr. Andrews probably made an intentionally late breakfast, and Gabrielle was more than willing to keep out of sight. Matters at the house she found in worse confusion than ever. The only plumber in the village was more eminent for good-nature than for skill. He doctored furnaces and ranges, cooking stoves and "air-tights," but it must be said he was more successful with the latter. Water-backs, and traps, and reservoirs had grown up since he learned his trade, but, like a good-natured creature, he put his hand to whatever was asked of him, and sometimes succeeded in patching up leaks, and sometimes didn't. He was the worst berated man in Yellowcoats, but in the greatest demand. No one's wrath lasted out the first glance of his good-humored face. He never thought of keeping his word; indeed, it would have needed a great deal of principle to do it. The one that was first, got him, whether prince or peasant, and generally found it necessary to mount guard over him till the job was finished. He was willing to work all day, and all night, irrespective of meals or sleep. Such good-nature could not fail to be rewarded, and so every one "put up" with him, and he was not supplanted.