“It ain’t the end,” shouted the exasperated Barzilla.  “Not nigh the end.  ‘Twas the beginnin’.  The housekeeper left us that day, of course, and for the rest of that summer the servant question kept me and Jonadab from thinkin’ of other things.  Course, the reason for the Butler scamp’s sudden switch was plain enough.  Susannah’s lawyer had settled the case with the railroad and, even after his fee was subtracted, there was fifteen hundred left.  That was enough sight better’n nine hundred, so Sim figgered when he heard of it; and he hustled to make up with his old girl.

“Fifteen hundred dollars doesn’t last long with some folks.  At the beginnin’ of the next spring season both of ’em was round huntin’ jobs.  Susannah was a fust-rate waitress, so we hired her for that—­no more housekeeper for hers, and served her right.  As for her husband, we took him on in the stable.  He wouldn’t have been wuth his salt if it hadn’t been for her.  She said she’d keep him movin’ and she did.  She nagged and henpecked him till I’d have been sorry if ’twas anybody else; as ’twas, I got consider’ble satisfaction out of it.

“I got one letter from Effie pretty soon after she left, sayin’ she liked her new job and that the Van Wedderburns liked her.  And that’s all I did hear, though Bob himself wrote me in May, sayin’ him and Mabel, his wife, had bought a summer cottage in Wapatomac, and me and Jonadab—­especially me—­must be sure and come to see it and them.  He never mentioned his second girl, and I almost forgot her myself.

“But one afternoon in early July a big six-cylinder automobile come sailin’ down the road and into the Old Home House yard.  A shofer—­I b’lieve that’s what they call the tribe—­was at the helm of it, and on the back seat, lollin’ luxurious against the upholstery, was a man and a woman, got up regardless in silk dusters and goggles and veils and prosperity.  I never expect to see the Prince of Wales and his wife, but I know how they’d look—­after seein’ them two.

“Jonadab was at the bottom step to welcome ’em, bowin’ and scrapin’ as if his middle j’int had just been iled.  I wa’n’t fur astern, and every boarder on deck was all eyes and envy.

“The shofer opens the door of the after cockpit of the machine, and the man gets out fust, treadin’ gingerly but grand, as if he was doin’ the ground a condescension by steppin’ on it.  Then he turns to the woman and she slides out, her duds rustlin’ like the wind in a scrub oak.  The pair sails up the steps, Jonadab and me backin’ and fillin’ in front of ’em.  All the help that could get to a window to peek had knocked off work to do it.

“‘Ahem!’ says the man, pompous as Julius Caesar—­he was big and straight and fine lookin’ and had black side whiskers half mast on his cheeks—­ahem!’ says he.  ‘I say, good people, may we have dinner here?’

“Well, they tell us time and tide waits for no man, but prob’ly that don’t include the nobility.  Anyhow, although ’twas long past our reg’lar dinner time, I heard Jonadab tellin’ ’em sure and sartin they could.  If they wouldn’t mind settin’ on the piazza or in the front parlor for a spell, he’d have somethin’ prepared in a jiffy.  So up to the piazza they paraded and come to anchor in a couple of chairs.