nd," she requested in a mournful
tone of resignation. "And Miss Redmond don't take any pepper on her
aigs; I watched her yesterday."

"Well, she may want some to-day, just the same," insisted Mr. Hand in a
lordly manner, putting a thin silver boat, filled with salt, and a
cheap pink glass pepper-shaker side by side on the tray. Sallie
brushed Hand away in disgust.

"That doesn't go with the best silver salt-cellar; that's the kitchen
pepper. And, you can say _Miss_ Sallie, if you please."

"No, just Sallie, if _you_ please! I've taken a great fancy to you,
Sallie, and I don't like to be so formal," argued Hand. "Besides, I
like your name; and I'll carry the tray to the top of the stairs for
you, if you'll be good."

"I wouldn't trouble you for the world, Mr. Hand," she tossed back.
"You'd stumble and break Parson Thayer's best china that I've washed
for seventeen years and only broke the handle of one cup. She wouldn't
drink her coffee this morning outer the second-best cups; went to the
buttery before breakfast and picked out wunner the best set, and poured
herself a cup. She said it was inspiring, but I call it wasteful--and
me with extra work all day!"

Sallie disappeared, leaving a dribbling trail of good-natured complaint
behind her. Mr. Hand continued making broth--at which he was as expert
as he was at the lever or the launch engine. He strained and seasoned,
and regarded two floating islands of oily substance with disapproval.
While he was working Sallie joined him again at the stove, her
important and injured manner all to the front.

"Says she'll take another aig," she explained. "Only took one
yesterday, and then I had two all cooked."

"What did I tell you?" jeered Hand.

"You didn't tell me anything about aigs, not that I recollect," Sallie
replied tartly.

"Well, the principle's the same," asserted Hand. After a moment his
countenance assumed a crafty and jocose expression, which would have
put even Sallie on her guard if she had looked up in time to see it.
"You won't have so much extra work when mademoiselle's maid arrives,"
he said slyly. "_She'll_ wait on mademoiselle and attend to her tray
when she wants one, and you won't have to do anything for mademoiselle
at all."

Sallie became slowly transfixed in a spread-eagle attitude, with the
half of a thin white egg-shell held up in each hand.

"A maid! When's she coming?"

"Ought to be here now, she's had time enough. But wom