Zoeth said nothing, but he looked vexed and disturbed.

“I’d knock somebody’s head off if I had my way,” observed Shadrach.  “Or if I didn’t, I’d like to.  Where is she now, Isaiah?”

“She’s up in the spare room, asleep I cal’late.  And she’s got her dolls along with her, three on one side and two on t’other.  Wanted me to be sure and wake all hands of ’em up on time in the mornin’.  He, he!  She undressed them dolls, every one of ’em, afore they turned in.  Oh, yes, and she helped me make the bed, too.  She can make a bed, blessed if she can’t.  And all the time a-talkin’, one minute like a child and the next like a forty-year-old woman.  She’s the queerest young-one!”

“I guess she’s had a kind of queer bringin’ up,” said Zoeth.

“Where’s that—­where’s Saul—­er—­Elijah—­what’s his name—­David?” asked the Captain.  “Where’s the cat?”

“He’s out in the barn, locked in.  She had to go out along with me when I toted him there, and kiss him good night and tell him not to be frightened, and goodness knows what all—­you’d think she was that cat’s mother, to hear her.  How long’s she goin’ to stay?”

“Don’t know,” replied Shadrach, hastily.  “That ain’t settled yet.”

“How’d you come to fetch her over here?  You’re the last ones I ever thought would be fetchin’ a child to visit you.  Say, you ain’t cal’latin’ to keep her for good, are you?”

Zoeth hesitated.  Shadrach’s answer was emphatic.

“Course not,” he snapped.  “What do Zoeth and me know about managin’ a child?  Keep her for good, the idea!”

Isaiah chuckled. “‘Cordin’ to my notion,” he said, “you wouldn’t have to know much.  You wouldn’t have to manage her.  If she wasn’t managin’ you—­yes, and me, too—­inside of a month, I’d miss my guess.  She’s a born manager.  You ought to see her handle them dolls and that cat.”

When the two partners of Hamilton and Company went upstairs to their own bedrooms they opened the door of the spare room and peeped in.  Mary-’Gusta’s head and those of the dolls were in a row upon the pillow.  It was a strange sight in that room and that house.

“I declare!” whispered Zoeth.  “And this mornin’ we never dreamed of such a thing.  How long this day has been!”

“Judgin’ by the state of my nerves and knees it’s been two year,” replied Shadrach.  “I’ve aged that much, I swan to man.  Humph!  I wonder if Marcellus knows what’s happened.”

His tone was not loud, but it or the lamplight in her face awakened Mary-’Gusta.  She stirred, opened her eyes and regarded them sleepily.

“Is it mornin’?” she asked.

“No, no,” replied Zoeth.  “It’s only ten o’clock.  Captain Shadrach and I was goin’ to bed and we looked in to see if you was all right, that’s all.  You must go right to sleep again, dearie.”

“Yes, sir,” said Mary-’Gusta, obediently.  Then she added, “I said my prayers to myself but I’ll say ’em to you if you want me to.”