Sherry looked at her in surprise, as this was the first intimation she had had that taking towels to the rooms was a part of her duties. Nor was it, and Mrs. Groves had only thought of it as a means of getting rid of her. But Sherry made no protest except with her eyes, which flashed a moment with a look Mrs. Groves had seen before and did not like. Then she said, very respectfully, “Yes, madam,” and with a bow to Alex., walked away, followed by the dog, who was so persistent in letting her know what he wanted that when she reached the end of the piazza she took the stick from him and threw it into the yard, as Alex. had done. There were leaps and bounds, and Mrs. Groves was nearly thrown off her feet as the dog rushed by her to the door through which Sherry had disappeared, shutting it after her. Finding no one there, he looked around with surprise and disappointment, and then came back to Alex. and Mrs. Groves, signalling to the latter that he wished her to continue the play. He might as well have signalled the Sphinx for any response he received, except a frown, as she held her dress away from him. “He is so glad to be in the country again that he is nearly crazy,” Alex. said. Mrs. Groves bowed and continued the conversation the dog had interrupted. She had commenced by saying: “I knew she had a great deal of assurance, but I did not think she would go so far as that.” “As what?” Alex. asked, and Mrs. Groves replied: “Thrust herself upon your notice the first thing.” “She did nothing of the sort,” Alex. answered quickly. “My dog nearly knocked her down, as he did you, and I apologized for him, and told her who I was and asked who she was. She said she was sometimes ‘Fanny’ and sometimes ‘No. 1.’ She is a deuced pretty girl any way. Who is she and where did she come from?” Mrs. Groves frowned. Alex., with his democratic notions, would spoil the servants if she did not keep a tight rein. “She is Fanny Sherwood, or Sherman, or something like that,” she said. “I don’t try to remember their last names. I call the waitresses Nos. 1, 2, 3 and 4, and she is No. 1, because I hired her first.” “Do they like it?” Alex. asked, and Mrs. Groves replied: “I don’t consult their wishes. I tell you, Mr. Marsh, you must be strict these days with your help, or they will run over you and expect to be Miss Brown, or Smith, or whatever their names chance to be, especially if they are clerks, or typewriters, or teachers.” “And what is No. 1?” Alex. asked. “Nothing, so she says,” Mrs. Groves answered. “Poor, no doubt, and wanted an easy job and some money. I can’t say that she does not do her work well, but there is something about her which tells me that she’s a high stepper and must be curbed.”