"You don't mean to engage that man?" said Lady Claudia as the door closed.
"Why not?" asked my uncle.
"I have taken a dislike to him."
This short answer was so entirely out of the character of my aunt that the General took her kindly by the hand, and said:
"I am afraid you are not well."
She irritably withdrew her hand.
"I don't feel well. It doesn't matter."
"It does matter, Claudia. What can I do for you?""Write to the man--" She paused and smiled contemptuously.
"Imagine a groom with an antipathy to cats!" she said, turning to me. "I don't know what you think, Mina. I have a strong objection, myself, to servants who hold themselves above their position in life. Write," she resumed, addressing her husband, "and tell him to look for another place.""What objection can I make to him?" the General asked, helplessly.
"Good heavens! can't you make an excuse? Say he is too young."My uncle looked at me in expressive silence-- walked slowly to the writing-table--and glanced at his wife, in the faint hope that she might change her mind. Their eyes met--and she seemed to recover the command of her temper. She put her hand caressingly on the General's shoulder.
