"Huddesley? Oh, no, trust _him_. Besides I'll leave it written down. But Huddesley is perfectly reliable--a remarkable man, that--never had a such a servant is my house--he's really unusual." "Snake in th' grass--don't tell _me_!" Mrs. Botlisch grunted. She had taken a bitter prejudice against the doctor's man-servant; partly, no doubt, because although he was a good deal about the house, coming and going on the doctor's errands, he had managed to avoid both her bullying and her patronage. There is nothing more offensive than the servant whose manners are better than our own. And Huddesley's manners were perfect in his degree; he was English, we supposed from the short fragment of his history we had heard, and had not been long enough abroad to lose the insular standard of domestic service, and the insular traditions of class. "Huddesley'll get spoiled if you don't look out, Doctor," Colonel Pallinder warned him. "None of my affair, of course, but, pardon me, too much notice and perhaps too much pay----" "I know some of 'em that ain't sufferin' from _that_ anyhow!" growled the old woman pointedly. "I believe ma thinks we ought to give all these lazy darkies as much as we spend on ourselves," said Mrs. Pallinder with an indulgent laugh. "As if they weren't eating us out of house and home already! But William's right, doctor, Huddesley will be spoiled if we're not all more careful. A white servant can't stand petting and familiarity the way black ones do; sooner or later he'll presume on it. Did you know that all these boys have been going down to your house to get Huddesley to hear them their parts?" "It's my fault, I began it," J. B. explained, reddening. "I said to Ted that if he wanted to know how an English butler behaved he'd better get a few pointers from Huddesley. Huddesley'd make an ideal 'Jenks,' you know, as far as looks go, I mean. He's the real thing in butlers. And it's funny, he's got ever so many good ideas about _business_, you know, and all that. But we won't do it any more if you'd rather not, Doctor." "Pooh, you can't spoil a man like that," the doctor said. "Reverence for class is born in 'em; it runs in the blood. That's what I admire about these English servants--their perfect self-respect, and idea of the dignity of their own position, without presuming on yours." "It's awfully convenient having him to prompt anyhow," said Mazie, who needed a great deal of prompting. "Nobody wants to sit and hold an old prompt-book and watch for mistakes. What bothers me is all those funny little pairs of letters '_r.u._' and '_cross over_' and '_sits right_' scattered all through your speech like hiccups. I don't know what _r.u._ means, anyhow." "Huddesley says it means _retire up_--walk toward the back of the stage, you know." "Well, but I thought you oughtn't _ever_ to turn your back on the audience."