“‘Say,’ he bursts out, ’you look kind of pale to me.  What you need is fresh air.  Why don’t you go take a walk?’

“The girl looked at him with her mouth open.

“‘Oh,’ says she, ’I couldn’t do that, thank you, sir.  That would leave no one but the cook and the kitchen girl.  And the master said you was to be made perfectly comf’table, and—­’

“‘Yes,’ says Sim, dry, ’I heard him say it.  And we can’t be comf’table with you shut up in the house this nice evenin’.  Go and take a walk, and take the cook and stewardess with you.  Don’t argue about it.  I’m skipper here till the boss gets back.  Go, the three of you, and go now.  D’ye hear?’

“There was a little more talk, but not much.  In five minutes or so the downstairs front door banged, and there was gigglin’ outside.

“‘There,’ says Simeon, peelin’ off his coat and throwin’ himself back in one chair with his feet on another one.  ‘Now, by Judas, I’m goin’ to be homey and happy like poor folks.  I don’t wonder that Harriet woman’s got nerves.  Darn style, anyhow!  Pass over that cigar box, Hiram.’

“’Twas half an hour later or so when Margaret, the nursemaid, came downstairs.  I’d almost forgot her.  We was tame and toler’ble contented by that time.  Phinney called to her as she went by the door.

“‘Is that young one asleep?’ he asked.

“‘Yes, sir,’ says she, ’he is.  Is there anything I can do?  Did you want anything?’

“Simeon looks at me.  ‘I swan to man, it’s catchin’!’ he says.  ’They’ve all got it.  No, we don’t want anything, except—­What’s the matter?  You don’t need fresh air, do you?’

“The girl looked as if she’d lost her last friend.  Her pretty face was pale and her eyes was wet, as if she’d been cryin’.

“‘No, sir,’ says she, puzzled.  ‘No, sir, thank you, sir.’

“‘She’s tired out, that’s all,’ says I. I swan, I pitied the poor thing.  ‘You go somewheres and take a nap,’ I told her.  ’Me and my friend won’t tell.’

“Oh, no, she couldn’t do that.  It wa’n’t that she was tired—­no more tired than usual—­but she’d been that troubled in her mind lately, askin’ our pardon, that she was near to crazy.

“We was sorry for that, but it didn’t seem to be none of our business, and she was turnin’ away, when all at once she stops and turns back again.

“‘Might I ask you gintlemen a question?’ she says, sort of pleadin’.  ’Sure I mane no harm by it.  Do aither of you know a man be the name of Michael O’Shaughnessy?’

“Me and Sim looked at each other.  ‘Which?’ says I.  ‘Mike O’ who?’ says Simeon.

“‘Aw, don’t you know him?’ she begs.  ’Don’t you know him?  Sure I hoped you might.  If you’d only tell me where he is I’d git on me knees and pray for you.  O Mike, Mike! why did you leave me like this?  What’ll become of me?’

“And she walks off down the hall, coverin’ her face with her hands and cryin’ as if her heart was broke.