r?"

Mary-'Gusta said that she heard. She ran to the garret and replaced the
photograph in the pocket of the trunk. She did not mention it again nor
did Isaiah, but thereafter when her active imagination constructed a
life romance with Mr. Zoeth Hamilton as its hero, that romance contained
a villain also, and the villain's name was Edgar S. Farmer. And the firm
of Hall and Company, her father's firm, had a fourth and most mysterious
partner who was a blackguard.

CHAPTER VIII

The summers and winters came and went and Mary-'Gusta's birthdays
came and went with them. She grew taller and more mature. Her place as
assistant housekeeper was recognized now and even Isaiah consulted her
on matters of household management. As for her uncles, she managed them
whether consulted or not. They took the place of the discarded dolls;
she was too old for dolls now, although David was still mothered and
petted as much as ever. But when Uncle Zoeth had a cold it was she who
insisted upon his wrapping up and saw that the wraps were ready, and if
Uncle Shad was caught wearing socks with holes in them he was scolded
and supplied with fresh ones. She selected the clothes they should wear
and insisted that they black their boots on Sunday. She helped them in
the store and it became occasionally possible for them to leave that
place of business at the same time without engaging the services of
Annabel. At first the partners, Captain Shadrach especially, protested
against the supervision and the innovations, but Mary-'Gusta tactfully
and diplomatically carried each point, and, after a time, the Captain
ceased to protest and accepted the inevitable almost with meekness.

"No use, Zoeth," he said on one occasion; "I've talked and talked but
I'm wearin' the necktie just the same. I told her 'twas too good to wear
weekdays and it ought to be saved for Sunday, but it ain't Sunday and
I've got it on. She said 'twas becomin' and the one I've been wearin'
wasn't and that she crocheted it for me and I don't know what all. So
here I am. Got so I ain't even boss of my own neck."

"Well, 'tis becomin'," observed Zoeth. "And she did crochet it for you.
I noticed you didn't stop her tyin' it on you even while you was vowin'
you wouldn't wear it."

Shadrach sighed. "To think," he groaned, "that I, Cap'n Shad Gould, a
man that's handled as many fo'mast hands as I have, should come to be
led around by the nose by a slip of a girl! By fire, I--I c