"Servants
are given to it. The Servants' Hall is their theatre. It doesn't
matter whether tales are true or not, so that they're spicy. But
it's been my way to credit just as much as I see and know and to
say little about that. If a woman takes a place in a house, let her
go or stay as suits her best, but don't let her stay and either
complain or gossip. My business here is Miss Robin, and I've found
out for myself that there's just one person that, in a queer,
unfeeling way of his own, has a fancy for looking after her. I
say 'unfeeling' because he never shows any human signs of caring
for the child himself. But if there's a thing that ought to be
done for her and a body can contrive to let him know it's needed,
it'll be done. Downstairs' talk that I've seemed to pay no attention
to has let out that it was him that walked quietly upstairs to
the Nursery, where he'd never set foot before, and opened the door
on Andrews pinching the child. She packed her box and left that
night. He inspected the nurseries and, in a few days, an architect
was planning these rooms,--for Miss Robin and for no one else,
though there was others wanted them. It was him that told me to
order her books and playthings--and not let her know it because
she hates him. It was him I told she needed a governess. And he
found you."
Mademoiselle Valle had listened with profound attention.
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