"Here is Uncle John's room," exclaimed the girl, entering the third
chamber.
"Mine?" enquired Uncle John in mild surprise.
"Sure, sir; you're one of the family, and I'm glad it's as good as the
Major's, every bit."
Uncle John's eyes twinkled.
"I hope the bed is soft," he remarked, pressing it critically.
"It's as good as the old sofa, any day," said Patsy, indignantly.
Just then a bell tinkled, and after looking at one another in silent
consternation for a moment, the Major tiptoed stealthily to the front
door, followed by the others.
"What'll we do?" asked Patsy, in distress.
"Better open it," suggested Uncle John, calmly.
The Major did so, and there was a little maid bowing and smiling
outside. She entered at once, closing the door behind her, and bowed
again.
"This is my new mistress, I suppose," she said, looking at Patsy. "I
am your servant, Miss Patricia."
Patsy gasped and stared at her. The maid was not much older than she
was, but she looked pleasant and intelligent and in keeping with the
rooms. She wore a gray dress with white collar and white apron and
cap, and seemed so dainty and sweet that the Major and Uncle John
approved her at once.
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