asked Josie. "Is it in your face or your
stomach?"

"Back, f----! Back!"

Josie realized her master had almost called her a fool and felt the
compliment highly. "The bigger fool he thinks I am the better I am
attending to my business," she thought.

"I bane sorry. Don't you want me to iron your back, sir? In my country
we iron backs. I can iron very well, sir. You will see your laundry on
your bed. I have ironed it so well I feel sure you could trust your
back to me. I did not put your wash away, fearing you might think I
bane meddlin."

"Oh, that's all right, my girl. I fancy what meddling you do will make
no difference to me. Just don't get my papers mixed up."

"Sure, I bane careful with all such things. Your letters are on your
desk."

"Well, bring them up to me when you bring my tea and toast. They will
keep until then. I must get to bed." He walked with his back bent.
Evidently every movement was painful.

"I'll feel sorry for him again if I don't look out," muttered Josie. "I
think I'll keep these porridge bowls where I can look at them to keep
myself from weakening. Polly, you stay there," she said, putting the
rabbits behind a big silver pitcher. "And Peter, you can hide behind
this fruit bowl. Don't crow too loud, little chickens, but just loud
enough to keep me from being too sorry for that handsome wretch
upstairs, with his noble brow and the lumbago in his back."

Josie arranged a tray for the sick man deftly and neatly. To the toast
and tea she added a fluffy omelette and, with the letters carefully
tucked in by the teapot, she tripped up to the master's room. He had
piled the beautifully ironed shirts on a chair and was in bed, groaning
from the extra exertion of undressing.

"Try to eat, sir," she said gently. "I bane cuked you something nice."

He did eat and felt refreshed. Josie noticed he looked over his mail
and evidently took especial interest in the two letters that had also
claimed her attention. He put them aside and told her she could remove
the others, he would look at them later on. Slipping back into the room
for the tray, Josie caught the master with his mask off, as it were. He
held in his hand the two opened letters. On his countenance was an
expression of mingled cunning and cold calculation.

"I'll trouble you to hand me my fountain pen," he said to the girl.
"There is a portfolio of stationery on the table over there. In about
an hour you may come up and get some letters