Page:The Whisper on the Stair by Lyon Mearson (1924).djvu/186

 materialistic Elizabeth. “It wasn’t never none too good, anyway, and now that we’ve been away such a time⸺”

“Oh, stop your grumbling,” interjected Jessica. “Haven’t you any sentiment for the old home⸺”

“Well, plumbing’s a very important thing, Miss Jessica,” said the old woman, “an’ there can’t be much sentiment if the water supply is bad on account of defective plumbing⸺”

“All right, you old grouch,” said Jessica. “You’ve robbed me of the first moment of pleasure I’ve had since we started. Let’s go down to the house and see whether your old plumbing works.”

“I don’t see what you wanted to come back here for, anyway,” said the old servitor as they started for the house. “Especially since that devil Teck is coming here too. You always said that you wouldn’t come here while he⸺”

“I hardly know why myself, Elizabeth,” said Jessica, a trifle wearily. “I know I had absolutely no intention of coming here at this time.”

“Then why do you do it?”

“I don’t know, I’m sure. Only sometimes, when he catches me with those green eyes of his, I seem to be robbed of all my will power. Some outside will—his own will, I suppose—just flows into me and seems to fill me up, forcing me to do things that I never supposed I would do. It used to be that way when I was a little girl, Elizabeth. All he used to have to do was just to look at me steadily—right into my eyes—and I would do anything he asked me. I thought it was just because I was a little girl and his was a stronger will—but now I don’t know  I suppose he still has