They stared at him. "Leaving his service, why?" Randy demanded. "He called me a fool this morning. And I am not a fool, sir." "What made him say that?" Randy asked, with interest. "He ordered a kidney omelette for breakfast, and I brought it, and he wouldn't eat it, and blamed me. I am willing to serve any man, but not without self-respect, sir." "What are you going to do now, Kemp?" the Major asked. "Find a better man to work for." "It won't be hard," Randy interpolated. "Work for me," said the Major. Kemp was eager----! "For you, sir?" "Yes. I need somebody to be legs for me--I'm only half a man. The place is open for you if you want it." "I shall want it in a week," said Kemp; "I shall have to give him notice." "There will be three musketeers in the old Schoolhouse, Paine. We have all seen service." "It will be the best thing that ever happened to me, sir," said Kemp ecstatically, "to know that I can wait on a fighting man." He swung down the hall to the telephone as if he marched to the swirl of pipes. "Isn't Dalton a brute?" said Randy. "He that calleth his brother a fool----" mused the Major. He was still turning the mauve hat in his hands. "It is queer," he said unexpectedly, "how some women make you think of some flowers. Did you notice everything Miss MacVeigh wore was lilac--and there's the perfume of it about her things----" "Becky's a rose," said Randy, "from her own garden. She's as fresh and sweet," his voice caught. "Oh, hang Dalton," he said, "I hate the whole tribe of them----" Kemp came back to say that Oscar Waterman would be down at once. He insisted that Miss MacVeigh should be brought up to Hamilton Hill. "He must talk with the doctor." "He is bringing a doctor of his own. One who came down for Mrs. Waterman." Randy picked up his hat. "I'm going home. The same house won't hold us----" Kemp was discreet. "Can I help you with your car, sir?" "I'll come over later and look at it." Randy, escaping by the back way, walked over the hills. The Major stayed, and was in the sitting-room with the county doctor when the others arrived. Dr. Dabney, the county doctor, was not old. He rode to hounds and he enjoyed life. But he was none the less a good doctor and a wise one. Waterman's physician confirmed the diagnosis. It would be very unwise to move Miss MacVeigh. "But she can't stay here," said Dalton. "Why not?" "She can't be made comfortable." Dalton surveyed the Flippin sitting-room critically. He was aware that Mr. Flippin was in the doorway, and that Mrs. Flippin and Mary could not fail to catch his words. But he did not care who heard what he said. All was wrong with his world. It was bad enough to have Flora ill, but to have Madge out of commission would be to forge another chain to hold him to Hamilton Hill. "She can be made very comfortable here," said Dr. Dabney. "Mrs. Flippin is a famous housekeeper. And anyone who has ever slept in that east room in summer knows that there is nothing better."