h, you won't have to do that,' I answered. 'He will live near here,
just the other side of the road.'

"'That will do very well,' said she. 'I do not mind being your servant,
Harold, but I cannot be a servant's servant.'"

"Do you know," said the Master of the House, "as this story goes on I
feel poorer and poorer every minute--I suppose by comparison. In fact, I
do not know that I can afford to light another cigar. But one thought
comforts me," he continued: "if I had been living in that cot with my
wife I would not have had the stomach-ache; so that balances things
somewhat."

The lady smiled.

"The next morning a little after eight o'clock I came down to open the
house, and there, standing by the porch, hat in hand, I saw Isadore.
He was a middle-aged man, large and solid, with very flat feet and a
smoothly shaven face, twinkling eyes, and a benevolent smile. I was very
glad to see him, especially before breakfast. I took him away from the
house, so that Anita might not overhear our conversation, and then I
laid the whole case before him. He was an Alsatian, but his English was
perfectly easy to understand.

"'I know precisely what it is that is wanted,' said he, 'and Mr. Baxter
has made the arrangements with me. It is that madame shall not suppose
anything, but that what she wishes to be done shall be done.'

"'That is the idea,' said I. 'Don't interfere with her, but have
everything done all right.'

"'And I am to be man of all work. I like that. You shall see that I am
charmed. Now I will go and change my clothes.' And this well-dressed man
turned away toward Baldwin's tent.

"When Anita came down the servant I had engaged was at the kitchen door
waiting for orders. He was a plainly dressed man, his whole appearance
neat but humble. 'He looks like a foreigner,' said Anita.

"'You are right,' I replied; 'he is an Alsatian.'

"'And his name?'

"I was about to tell her Isadore, but I stopped myself. It was barely
possible that she might have heard the name of the man who for two years
had composed the peculiar and delicious ices of which she was so fond;
she might even have seen him, and the name might call up some
recollection. 'Did you say your name was Isaac?' I called out to the
man.

"'Yes, sir,' he answered; 'it is that. I am Isaac.'

"'I am going to get breakfast,' said Anita. 'Do you suppose he can build
a fire?'

"'Oh, yes,' I replied; 'that is what he is engaged for--to be the man of
all