"It's been as plain as your nose that the interlopers don't like to have me there.Not that they have anything special against me,but they'd like to have someone younger and stylisher to hand them their plates.I'll never forget one night when they'd been here about a week,and I think Mr.Evringham had begun to suspect they were fixtures,--I'd felt it from the first,--Mrs.Evringham said,'Why father,does Mrs.Forbes always wait on your table?I had supposed she was temporarily taking the place of your butler or your waitress.'"The housekeeper's effort to imitate the airy manner she remembered caused her son to chuckle as he gathered up the shining harness.
"You should have seen the look Mr.Evringham gave her.Just as if he didn't see her at all.'Yes,'he answered,'I hope Mrs.Forbes will wait on my table as long as I have one.'And I will if I have my health,"added the speaker,bridling with renewed pleasure at the memory of that triumphant moment."They think I'm a machine without any feelings or opinions,and that I've been wound up to suit Mr.
Evringham and run his establishment,and that I'm no more to be considered than the big Westminster clock on the stairs.Mrs.
Evringham did try once to get into my employer's rooms and look after his clothes."Mrs.Forbes shook her head and tightened her lips at some recollection.
"She bucked up against the machine,did she?"inquired Zeke.
The housekeeper glanced around to see if any one might be approaching.