u've stood by."

"That's all I have done, though," grumbled the old servant morosely.
His troubled gaze sought hers. "I've just--stood by."

"Well, you couldn't very well do more. I think it is greatly to your
credit that you didn't leave the house long ago."

"I've been tempted often enough, Miss Ocky, but there's been the
thought in the back of my head that some day I might really be able to
help Miss Lucy in an hour of need." His hands closed nervously. "But
for that I'd have left, no fear! I've stood so much from him that now
I _hate_ him! Do you know, Miss Ocky," his voice dropped to awed
confession, "when he was so sick of pneumonia awhile back I just hoped
and hoped and hoped our troubles were near an end!"

"It would have been more practical to have left a window open on him,
but I suppose the nurse would have stopped that." Miss Ocky's voice
was an amused drawl. "Did you try prayer, Bates?"

"_Prayer_! Good gracious, no, Miss Ocky!"

"It's effective sometimes." She seemed to muse. "Of course, if you
were only practiced in witchcraft you could make a wax image of him and
then stick pins in it until he curled up and died--"

"Good gracious, Miss Ocky, but you've brought back some terrible ideas
from those foreign parts!" He was smiling, now, to show that he had
caught her mood and understood she was poking fun at him. The ceremony
of the blowing off of steam was nearly concluded. "If you ask me, I
don't believe that even witchcraft could hurt Simon Varr. It was only
the other day I heard him tell Miss Lucy that he'd increased his life
insurance and that the doctor had told him he was good for a
century-mark."

"Humph!" There was about her the air of one whose hopes have just been
rudely dashed. Then her face brightened and she added with determined
cheerfulness. "Never mind, Bates--you'd be amazed if you knew how
often doctors are wrong!"

"I hope you're right, Miss Ocky!"

"Suppose we drop the subject for the time. If you will look in the
sitting-room you'll find a book on the table called 'The Court of the
Borgias.' Bring it to me, please. I think a little quiet reading will
settle my thoughts after our conversation."

He went off smiling to get the volume, and presently returned with it.
He lingered to produce a match for the cigarette she took from a stand
beside her.

"Thank you for listening to me, Miss Ocky."

"And thank you, Bates, for telling me what you did about fat