“Oh, Lord, here he is!” she cried, panic-stricken, and began to drag herself hurriedly across the room with the intention of concealing herself behind the curtain at the foot of the bed; while Wowkle, with unusual celerity, made for the fire-place, where she stood with her back to the door, gazing into the fire.

The Girl had only gotten half-way across the room, however, when a voice assailed her ears.

“Miss, Miss, kin I—­” came in low, subdued tones.

“What?  The Sidney Duck?” she cried, turning and seeing his head poked through the window.

“Beg pardon, Miss; I know men ain’t lowed up here nohow,” humbly apologised that individual; “but, but—­”

Vexed and flustered, the Girl turned upon him a trifle irritably with: 

“Git!  Git, I tell you!”

“But I’m in grite trouble, Miss,” began The Sidney Duck, tearfully.  “The boys are back—­they missed that road agent Ramerrez and now they’re taking it out of me.  If—­if you’d only speak a word for me, Miss.”

“No—­” began the Girl, and stopped.  The next instant she ordered Wowkle to shut the window.

“Oh, don’t be ’ard on me, Miss,” whimpered the man.

The Girl flashed him a scornful look.

“Now, look here, Sidney Duck, there’s one kind o’ man I can’t stand, an’ that’s a cheat an’ a thief, an’ you’re it,” said the Girl, laying great stress upon her words.  “You’re no better’n that road agent Ramerrez, an’—­”

“But, Miss—­” interrupted the man.

“Miss nothin’!” snapped back the Girl, tugging away at the slippers; in desperation once more she ordered: 

“Wowkle, close the winder!  Close the winder!”

The Sidney Duck glowered at her.  He had expected her intercession on his behalf and could not understand this new attitude of hers toward him.

“Public ’ouse jide!” he retorted furiously, and slammed the window.

“Ugh!” snarled Wowkle, resentfully, her eyes full of fire.

Now at any other time, The Sidney Duck would have been made to pay dearly for his words, but either the Girl did not hear him, or if she did she was too engrossed to heed them; at any rate, the remark passed unnoticed.

“I got it on!” presently exclaimed the Girl in great joy.  Nevertheless, it was not without several ouches and moans that, finally, she stood upon her feet.  “Say, Wowkle, how do you think he’ll like ’em?  How do they look?  They feel awful!” she rattled on with a pained look on her face.

But whatever would have been the Indian woman’s observation on the subject of tight shoes in general and those of her mistress in particular, she was not permitted to make it, for the Girl, now hobbling over towards the bureau, went on to announce with sudden determination: