“Poor Mrs. Merwent,” the girl began, coming into Nannie’s room without knocking. “You look all pale and wore out.”
Nannie observed her rouged cheeks in the mirror, peering over the girl’s head surreptitiously.
“Am I pale, Grace?” she inquired nervously.
“No. Not exactly pale,” amended the girl, “but your eyes look tired and you are worried.”
“Do I show wrinkles?” insisted Nannie.
“Not at all,” said Grace hastily, “but it breaks my heart to see you look so sad.”
“It’s nothing, Grace. We all have our troubles. But you are a good, kindhearted girl. Thank you.”
“Is there anything you want?” offered Grace solicitously.
“No. Not now. You can help Mrs. Winter. If I need you, I’ll call.”
“All right, Mrs. Merwent. I’ll run up again after a while.” And Grace descended the stairs, humming a song under her breath.
Lucy was in the kitchen beating eggs.
“Did you move some money that was on the writing table in the living room, Grace?” she asked as the girl entered.
“Why, no ma’am. Of course not!” denied Grace vigorously.
“I can’t find it,” said Lucy.
“Well, I didn’t touch it,” reasserted the girl with some indignation. “I don’t do such things, Mrs. Winter.”
“I didn’t say you took it, Grace,” responded Lucy patiently. “I thought you might have moved it, that’s all. I’ve looked every place for it.”
“No, I didn’t touch it,” Grace repeated.
Lucy went upstairs.
“Mamma, did you put away some money that was on the desk in the dining room?” she inquired.
“Why, no, Lucy, I never touch anything,” Nannie stated.
“Well, it’s very funny. I laid it down and came up here, and when I went back it was gone.”
“Maybe you locked it up, Mrs. Winter, and then forgot it.” Grace’s voice startled them both.
Lucy turned toward the girl who was standing in the hall just outside the door.
“What do you mean by following me about, Grace?” she reproved with vexation.
“I only came up to see how Mrs. Merwent was.” Grace had an injured air.
“Why, are you sick?” Lucy faced her mother quickly.
“No‑o. Just a slight headache, that’s all,” murmured Nannie with some confusion.
“You didn’t tell me anything about it,” said Lucy.
“Why, it’s nothing.”
“You better start your work, Grace, if you expect to have dinner on time.” Lucy spoke to the girl again.
Grace went off sulkily.
“I don’t like that girl,” Lucy complained when Grace had gone.
“Why, I don’t see anything the matter with her. She is extremely thoughtful and respectful.”
“Well, she doesn’t do her work, for one thing, and eavesdrops for another, and I am going to have the matter of this money cleared up.”
“I don’t think you ought to accuse her of stealing without any proof, Lucy. It is so easy to be unjust. I know what it is to be misunderstood myself.”
“Injustice is the last thing I have in mind,” declared Lucy as she was leaving the room, “but I can’t let a thing like this pass without doing something.”
In about an hour Grace tapped at Nannie’s door.
“Come in,” Nannie called.
The girl entered noiselessly, as usual. She carried a tray on which were a teapot, cup and saucer, and a plate of buttered toast.
“I’ve fixed you a little tea and toast, Mrs. Merwent,” she announced. “Maybe if you eat a little it will make you feel better.”
“Wait a minute, till I put these things away.” Nannie glanced up from the open bureau drawer before which she was kneeling. Then, seeing the tray, she rose to her feet.
“Thank you, Grace, but I don’t feel like eating,” she protested mournfully.
“Oh, try just a teeny bit. Here, I’ll pour the tea out for you. Eat just this little bit of toast. See how brown and crisp it is. You ought to try to eat, Mrs. Merwent. I noticed you ate hardly any lunch at all.”
“Well, all right, Grace, seeing that you have been thoughtful enough to fix it.” And Nannie began to eat with good appetite. “I didn’t think I could touch a bite, but you’ve fixed everything so nicely. I don’t usually eat much,” she declared defensively after a few moments. She smiled wanly at Grace, munching the toast as she spoke.
“That’s right,” said the girl approvingly. “You ought to eat more.”
There was a pause.
“Did Mrs. Winter find the money she misplaced?” Grace questioned casually. “Here, let me pour you another cup of tea,” she added.
“I don’t think so, Grace. But it will turn up some place or other,” replied Nannie, holding out her cup for the girl to fill.
“Well, if it don’t, I never touched it.”
“I’m sure you didn’t, Grace.”
“We’re going to have cold roast and hot potatoes for dinner, Mrs. Merwent. How do you like potatoes best? Shall I fix them au gratin?” asked Grace, mispronouncing the French very badly.
“I like scalloped potatoes best,” specified Nannie.
“All right. I’ll fix ’em that way. And the salad, shall I fix mayonnaise or French dressing?”
“Mayonnaise, if it’s not too much work.”
“Oh, I don’t mind the work.” Grace laughed. “I want to have things as you like ’em.” She picked up the tray. “If you want me, just call me,” she reminded Nannie, and departed as before, humming the same song.
Lucy came into the kitchen a little later.
“You can get the potatoes ready to bake, Grace,” she directed, “and make the French dressing for the salad while they are baking.”
“I was goin’ to scallop the potatoes,” objected Grace. “Mrs. Merwent said she liked ’em that way, and she wanted mayonnaise for the salad.”
“Well, I don’t care, if you have time to do it. Mr. Winter likes to have his dinner promptly.”
“I’ll get it in time, all right, all right. You just leave me alone,” stipulated Grace.
It was several days before Lucy made an issue of Grace.
About ten o’clock one morning, missing the girl from the kitchen, she tapped at the door of the servant’s room. Receiving no response to her knock, and hearing the sound of snoring, she looked in. Finding Grace asleep, she awakened her.
“Haven’t you anything to do, Grace? Go and start luncheon at
