And me, I picks up a new cue.  I escorts ’em out to the gen’ral office with all the honors.  “I’ll have that car down in a jiffy, Miss,” says I.

“Oh, thank you,” says Marjorie.  “And if you think of anything we ought to ditch in the meantime—­”

“Ah, what’s the use rubbin’ it in on me,” says I, “after the way you put it over Mr. Ellins?  I don’t count.  Besides, anybody that fields their position like you do has got me wearin’ their button for keeps.”

“Really?” says she.  “I shall remember that, you know; and there’s no telling what dreadful thing I may do before I go.  Is there, Dud?”

“Oh, quit it, Peggy!” says he.  “Behave, can’t you?”

“Certainly, Brother dear,” says she, runnin’ her tongue out at him.  Ever see anyone who could make a cute play of that?  Well, Marjorie could, believe me!

Funny, though, the sudden hit them two seemed to make with Old Hickory.  Honest, the few days they was around the house his disposition clears up like coffee does when you stir in the egg.  I heard him talkin’ to Mr. Robert about ’em, how well brought up and mannerly they was.  He even unloads some of it on me, by way of suggestin’ ’em as models.  You’d most think he’d trained ’em himself.

Bein’ chased up to the house on so many errands, I had a chance to get the benefit of some of this improvin’ influence.  And it was kind of good, I admit, to watch how prompt Dudley hops up every time any older party comes into the room; and how sweet Marjorie is to everybody, even the butler.  They was just as nice to each other too,—­Brother helpin’ Sister on with her wraps, and gettin’ down on his knees to put on her rubbers; while Marjorie never forgets to thank him proper, and pat him chummy on the cheek.

“Gee!” thinks I.  “A sister like that wouldn’t be so bad to have around.”

Course, I knew this was comp’ny manners, exhibition stuff; but all the same it was kind of inspirin’ to see.  It’s catchin’ too.  I even finds myself speakin’ gentle to Piddie, and offerin’ to help Mr. Ellins with his overcoat.

All of which lasts until here one afternoon, as I’m waitin’ in the Ellins’ lib’ry for some presents I’m to deliver, when the spell is shattered.  I’d heard ’em out in the hall, talkin’ low and earnest, and next thing I know they’ve drifted in where I am and have opened up a lively debate.

“Pooh!” says Marjorie.  “You can’t stop me.”

“See here, Peggy!” comes back Dudley.  “Didn’t Mother say I was to look after you?”

“She didn’t tell you to be so everlasting bossy,” says Sister.

“I’m not bossy,” comes back Dudley.

“You are so!” says she.  “Old fuss budget!  Stewcat!”

“Rattlehead!” says Dudley.

“Don’t mind me,” I breaks in.  “I’m havin’ my manners improved.”

All that brings out, though, is a glance and a shoulder shrug, and they proceed with the squabble.