"
And with that she was away and below and back in a trice, in her hand
a part glass of water into which she stirred a teaspoonful of cream
of tartar.
"Drink it," she ordered, as a matter of course.
I drank it. And at eleven in the morning she came up to my deck-
chair with a second dose of the stuff. Also she reproached me
soundly for permitting Wada to feed meat to Possum. It was from her
that Wada and I learned how mortal a sin it was to give meat to a
young puppy. Furthermore, she laid down the law and the diet for
Possum, not alone to me and Wada, but to the steward, the carpenter,
and Mr. Mellaire. Of the latter two, because they ate by themselves
in the big after-room and because Possum played there, she was
especially suspicious; and she was outspoken in voicing her
suspicions to their faces. The carpenter mumbled embarrassed
asseverations in broken English of past, present, and future
innocence, the while he humbly scraped and shuffled before her on his
huge feet. Mr. Mellaire's protestations were of the same nature,
save that they were made with the grace and suavity of a
Chesterfield.
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