11 - Selected Short Stories - The Good Angel

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
Chapter eleven of The Man Upstairs. This is a LibriVox recording.
All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more
information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox dot org. Recording
by Mike Harris The Man Upstairs by P. G. Woodhouse,
Story number eleven. The Good Angel. Any man under thirty

(00:23):
years of age who tells you he is not afraid
of an English butler lies. He may not show his
fear outwardly. He may be brave, aggressive, even perhaps to
the extent of calling the great Man here or Hi.
But in his heart, when he meets that cold, blue,
introspective eye, he quakes. The effect that Keggs, the butler

(00:46):
at the Keiths, had on Martin Rossiter, was to make
him feel as if he had been caught laughing in
a cathedral. He fought against the feeling. He asked himself
who Keggs was, anyway, and replied defiantly that Keggs was
a mean and an overfed menial. But all the while
he knew that logic was useless. When the Keiths had

(01:07):
invited him to their country home, he had been delighted.
They were among his oldest friends. He liked mister Keith.
He liked missus Keith. He loved Elsa Keith, and had
done so from boyhood. But things had gone wrong. As
he leaned out of his bedroom window at the end
of the first week, preparatory to dressing for dinner, he
was more than half inclined to make some excuse and

(01:28):
get right out of the place next day. The bland
dignity of Keggs had taken all the heart out of him.
Nor was it Keggs alone who had driven his thoughts
toward flight. Keggs was merely a passive evil, like toothache
or a rainy day. What had begun actively to make
the place impossible was a perfectly pestilential young man of

(01:50):
the name of Barstow. The house party of the Keiths
had originally been, from Martin's viewpoint, almost ideal. The rest
of the men were of the speechless, mustache tugging breed.
They had come to shoot, and they shot. When they
were not shooting, they congregated in the billiard room and
devoted their powerful intellects exclusively to snooker pool, leaving Martin

(02:11):
free to talk undisturbed to Elsap. He'd been doing this
for five days with great contentment. When Aubrey Barstow arrived,
Mister s Keith had developed of late leanings toward culture
in her town house. A charge of small shot fired
in any direction on a Thursday afternoon would not have

(02:31):
failed to bring down a poet, a novelist, or even
a painter. Aubrey Barstow, author of The Soul's Eclipse and
other poems, was a constant member of the crowd, a
youth of insinuating manners. He had appealed to missus Keith
from the start, and unfortunately the virus had extended to
Elsap Many A pleasant sunshiny Thursday afternoon had been poisoned

(02:55):
for Martin by the sight of Aubrey and Elsa together
on a distant settee, matching temperaments. The rest is too painful.
It was a rout. The poet did not shoot, so
that when Martin returned of an evening, his rival was
about five hours of soul to soul talk up, and
only two to play. And those two, the after dinner hours,

(03:15):
which had once been the hours for which Martin had lived,
were pure torture. So engrossed was he with his thoughts
that the first intimation he had that he was not
alone in the room. Was a genteel cough behind him,
holding a small can. Was Keggs your ought, waters ahm,
said the butler, austerely, but not unkindly. Keggs was a man.

(03:39):
One must use that word, though it seems grossly inadequate
of medium height. Pigeon toed at the base, bulgy half
way up, and balled at the apex. His manner was
restrained and dignified, his voice soft and grave. But it
was his eye that quelled Martin. That cold blue Dukes
have treated me as an l the brother ay he

(04:02):
fixed it upon him now, as he added, placing the
can on the floor, it is Frederick's duty. But to
night I hundertook it. Martin had no answer. He was dazed.
Keggs had spoken with the proud humility of an emperor
compelled by misfortune to shine shoes. Might I have a
word with yours? Arm? Oh? Yes, he think, yes, of course,

(04:24):
stammered Martin. Won't you take it? I mean, yes, certainly,
it is perhaps a liberty, began Giggs. He paused and
raked Martin with the eye that had rested, undining Duke's
not at all, said Martin, hurriedly. I should like, went
on Keggs, bowing to speak to you on a somewhat
intimate sub trick, Miss Elsa. Martin's eyes and mouth opened slowly.

(04:50):
You are going the wrong way to work, if you
will allow matus, I says, Ah. Martin's jaw dropped another inch,
or what what women? Sir proceeded Keggs. Young ladies are peculiar.
I have had, if I may, says, have certain opportunities
of observing their ways. Miss Elso reminds me in some

(05:10):
respective Lady Angelic of Frindal, of whom I had the
honor of knowing when I was butler to her father,
Lord Stockley. Her ladyship was inclined to be romantic. She
was fond of fir tree. Like Miss Elsa, she would
sit by the hour as I listening to young mister
Knox reading Tennyson, which was no part of his duties,
he being employed by his lordship to teach Lord Bertie

(05:32):
Latin and Greek and what not. You may have noticed
so that young lady is often took by Tennyson, especially
in the summer time. Mister barst I was reading Tennyson
to miss Elsa in the all when I passed through
just now that the princess, if I am not mistaken,
I don't know what the thing was, groaned Martin. She

(05:53):
seemed to be enjoying it. Lady Angelica was greatly addicted
to the princess young mister Fox's reading portions of that
poem to her. When his lordship come upon them, Miss
Rashleigh has lordship bed a public expose and packed mister
Knoxhorf next day. It was not my place to voluntary advice,
but I could have told him what would happen. Two

(06:15):
days later, her ladyship slips away to London early in
the morning and they married at a registry office. And
that's why I say that you're go in the wrong
way to work with miss Ailsaser with certain types of
eye spirited young lady opposition. He is useless. Now when
mister Parster is reading to Miss Elsa on the occasion
to which I have alluded, you were sitting by trying

(06:37):
to engage her attentionly. It's not that way, sir. You
should leave them alone together. Let us see so much
of him, nobody else but him, that she will grow
tired of him. Fondness for poetry. He is there very
much like a whiskey abbot. You can't cure a man
who has got that by hopposition of If you'll permit
me to offer a word of advice, sir, I say,

(06:59):
let miss Elsa have all the poetry she wants. Martin
was conscious of one coherent feeling at the conclusion of
this address, and that was one of amazed gratitude. A
lesser man who had entered his room and begun to
discuss his private affairs would have had reason to retire
with some speed. But that Keggs should descend from his
pedestal and interest himself in such lowly matters was a

(07:21):
different thing altogether. I'm very much obliged. She he was
stammering when the butler raised her deprecatory hand. My interest
in the matter, ah, he said, smoothly, is not entirely altruistic.
For some years back, in fact, since miss Elsa came out,
we've had a matrimonian sweepstakes, and the servants or at
each house party, the names of the gentlemen in the

(07:43):
party are placed in a hat and drawn in due course.
Should miss Elsa become engaged to any member of the party.
The pool goes to the drawer of his name. Should
no engagement occur, the money remains in my charge at
least until the following year, when it's added to the
new pool. Hitherto I have had the misfortune to draw
nothing but married gentleman Droun. On this occasion, I have

(08:05):
secured you, sir, And may I tell you, sir, he added,
with stately care to say that in the opinion of
the servants, all your chances are highly fancied, very highly.
The pool has now reached considerable proportions, and having had
certain losses on the ter fairy reason, I am extremely
anxious to win it. So I thought, if I might

(08:26):
take the liberty, sir, I would place my knowledge of
the sex at your disposal. You will find it sound
in every respect, and that is all. Thank your sir.
Don't thank me, sir, said the butler indulgently. I ask
no thanks. We're working together for a common object, and
any little help I can provide is given freely. You

(08:47):
old scoundrel, shouted martin, his wrath, prevailing even against that
blue eye, you have the insolence to come to me
and entrupt. He stopped the thought of these hounds, these
demons coolly asping and speculating below stairs about Elsa, making
her the subject of little sporting flutters to relieve the
monotony of country life choked him. I shall tell mister Keith,

(09:11):
he said. The butler shook his bald head gravely. I shouldn't, sir,
It's an oily fantastic story, and I don't think he'd
believe it. Then I'll i'll oh get out. Keggs bowed deferentially.
If ah, if you wish it, sir, he said, I
shall withdraw. If I may make the suggestions I think

(09:33):
you should commence to dress. Dinner will be served in
a few minutes. Then goes arm. Keggs passed softly out
of the room. It was more as a demonstration defiance
against Keggs than because he really hoped that anything would
come of it, that Martin approached else. The next morning,
after breakfast, Elsa was strolling on the terrace in front
of the house with the Bard, but Martin broke in

(09:55):
on the conference with the dogged determination of a steam
drill coming out with the guns to day el sir,
he said, She raised her eyes. There was an absent
look in them, but the guns, she said, O owner,
I hate watching men shoot. You used to like it.
I used to like dolls, she said impatiently. Mister Barstow

(10:17):
gave tongue. He was a slim, tall, sickeningly beautiful young
man with large, dark eyes full of expression. We develop,
he said, The years go by, and we develop. Our
souls expand timidly at first, like little half fledged birds
stealing out from it. I don't know that. I'm so
set on shooting to day myself. Martin said, will you

(10:40):
come round the lynx, I'm going out in the motor
with mister Barstow. Said, Elsa the motor, cried mister Barstow. Ah, Rossita,
that is the very poetry of motion. I never ride
in a motor car without those words of Shakespeare's ringing
in my mind. I'll put a girdle round about the
earth in forty minutes. Well, I shouldn't give way to

(11:04):
that sort of thing if I were you, said Martin.
The police are put it down on road hugging in
these parts. Mister Barstow was speaking figuratively, said elso with disdain,
I was, he grunted Martin, whose sorrows were tending to
make him every day more like a sulky schoolboy. I'm
afraid I haven't got a poetic soul. Yes, I'm afraid

(11:26):
you haven't, said Elso. There was a brief silence. A
bird made itself heard in a neighboring tree, the moan
of doves in immemorial Elms, quoted mister Barstow softly. Only
it happens to be a crow in a beech, said Martin.
As the bird flew out. Elsi's chin tilted itself in scorn.

(11:47):
Martin turned on his heel and walked away. It's the
wrong way, Sah, It's the wrong way, said a voice.
I was observing you from a windowser. It's Lady Angelica
all over again. Our position is useless, believe me, Sir
Martin faced round, flushed and wrathful. The butler went on unmoved.

(12:08):
Miss Elsie has gone for a ride in the car
to day, Sir, I know that uncommonly tricky things, these
motor car I was saying so to Roberts, the chauffeur.
Just as soon as I heard Miss Elsie was gone
out of mister Barstow, I said Roberts, these cars is
tricky break down when you're twenty miles from henniwhare as
soon as you'll look at you, Roberts, I said, slipping

(12:29):
to a sovereign. How aw would it would be if
that car should break down twenty miles from Hennywhere to day?
Martin staid, you bribed Roberts, Sir. I gave Roberts the
sovereign cause I'm sorry for and he's a poor man
and has a wife and family to support. Very well,
said Martin, sternly. I shall go and warn miss Keith Warners, Sir,

(12:52):
I shall tell her that you have bribed Roberts to
make the car break down, so that Keggs shook his head.
I fear she would hardly credit the statements air. She
might even think that you were trying to keep her
from going for your own personal ends. I believe you
are the devil, said Martin. I hope you'll come to
look on Messa, said Kays unctuously, as your good angel.

(13:18):
Martin shot abominably that day. Coming home in the evening,
gloomy and Savage went straight to his room and did
not reappear till dinner time. Elsa had been taken in
by one of the mustached huggers. Martin found himself seated
on her other side. It was so pleasant to be
near her, and to feel that the bard was away
at the other end of the table. That for the

(13:39):
moment his spirits revived. Well, how did you like the ride,
he asked, with a smile. Did you put that girdle
round the world? She looked at him once. The next
moment he had an uninterrupted view of her shoulder and
heard the sound of her voice as she prattled gaily
with the man on her other side. His heart gave
a sudden bound. He understood now the demon butler had

(14:01):
had his wicked way. Good heavens, she had thought he
was taunting her. He must explain at once, he said,
ach or shareer Sam. He looked up into Kag's expressionless eyes.
The butler was wearing his unduty mask. There was no
sign of triumph in his face. Oh, oh, Sherry, I
mean hark, no Sherry neither. This was awful. He must

(14:22):
put this right. Elsa, he said. She was engrossed in
a conversation with her neighbor. From down the table. In
a sudden lull in the talk came the voice of
mister Barstow. He seemed to be in the middle of
a narrative. Fortunately, he was saying, I had with me
a volume of Chrey, nor of my own little efforts.
I had read miss Keith the whole of the latter

(14:44):
and much of the former. Before the chauffeur announced that
it was once more possible, Elsa said the wretched man,
I had no idea, you don't think. She turned to him.
I beg your pardon. I swear I didn't. I mean,
I I've forgot. I mean, she wrinkled her for I'm
really afraid I don't understand. I mean about the car

(15:04):
breaking down. The car, Oh, yes, yes, it broke down.
We were delayed quite a little while mister Barstow read
me some of his poems. It was perfectly lovely. I
was quite sorry when Roberts told us we could go
on again. But do you really mean to tell me,
mister Lambert, that you and once more the world became
all shoulder. When the men trailed into the presence of

(15:26):
the ladies. With that brief seance in which Etikeette insisted
before permitting the stampede to the billiard room, Elsa was
not to be seen. Elsa said missus Keith in answer
to Martin's question, Oh, she's gone to bed. The poor
child has a headache. I'm afraid she had a tiring day.
There was an early morning start for the guns, and
as Elsa did not appear at breakfast, Martin had to

(15:48):
leave without seeing her. His shooting was even worse than
it had been on the previous day. It was not
until late in the evening that the party returned to
the house. Martin, on the way to his room, met
missus Keith on the stairs. She appeared somewhat agitated. Oh oh, Martin,
missus Keith said, I'm so glad you're back. Have you
seen anything of Elsa? Elsa? Wasn't she with the guns?

(16:13):
With the guns? Said Martin, puzzled No, I've seen nothing
of her all day. I'm getting worried. I can't think
what can have happened to her. Are you sure she
wasn't with the guns? Absolutely certain? Didn't she come in
for lunch? No, Tom, she said, as mister Keith came up.
I'm so worried about Elsa. I haven't seen her all day.
I thought she must have been out with the guns.

(16:36):
Mister Keith was a man who had built up a
large fortune mainly by consistently refusing to allow anything to
agitate him. He carried this policy into private life. Wasn't
she in at lunch? She asked placidly. I tell you
I haven't seen her all day. She breakfasted in a
room late. Yes, she was tired pogo. Well if she

(16:56):
breakfasted late, said mister Keith, she wouldn't need any lunch.
She's gone for a stroll somewhere. Would you put back
dinner do you think, inquired missus Keith. Anxiously, I am
not good at Riddle's, said mister Keith, comforting that I
can answer that one. I would not put back dinner.
I would not put back dinner for the king. Elsa

(17:18):
did not come back for dinner, or was her? As
the only vacant place mister Barstow had also vanished. Even
mister Keith's calm was momentarily ruffled by this discovery. The
poet was not a favorite of his. It was only
reluctantly that he had consented to his being invited at all,
and the presumption being that when two members of a
house party disappear simultaneously, they are likely to be spending

(17:41):
the time in each other's society. He was annoyed. Elsa
was not the girl to make a fool of herself,
of course, but he was unwontedly silent. At dinner, missus
Keith's anxiety displayed itself differently. She was frankly worried and
mentioned it. By the time the fish had been reached,
conversation at the table had fixed itself definitely on the

(18:02):
one topic. It isn't the car this time, at any rate,
said mister Keith. It hasn't been out to day. I
can't understand it, said missus Keith for the twentieth time,
and that was the farthest point reached in the investigation
of the mystery. By the time dinner was over, a
spirit of unrest was abroad. The company sat about in

(18:22):
uneasy groups. Snook o'pool was, if not forgotten at any rate, shelved.
Somebody suggested search parties, and one or two of the
mustache huggers wandered rather aimlessly out into the darkness. Martin
was standing in the porch with mister Keith when Keggs approached.
As his eyes lit upon him, Martin was conscious of
a sudden, solidifying of the vague suspicion which had been

(18:43):
forming in his mind. And yet that suspicion seemed so wild.
How could Keggs, with the worst intentions, have had anything
to do with this? He could not forcibly have abducted
the missing pair and kept them under lock and key.
He could not have stunned them and left them in
a ditch. Nevertheless, looking at Keggs, standing there in his
attitude of deferential dignity, with the light from the open

(19:06):
door shining on his bald head, Martin felt perfectly certain
that he had had, in some mysterious fashion, engineered the
whole thing. Might I have a word, sir, if you
are at lijam well Keggs miss elsa suh yes, Kegg's
voice took on a sympathetic softness. It is not my place, sir,

(19:27):
to make any remark while in the dining room, but
I could not help but overear the conversation. I gathered
from the remarks that was past that you were somewhat
at a loss to account for Miss ELS's non appearance,
mister Keith laughed shortly. You gathered that, eh, Keggs bowed.
I think, sir, that possibly I might be able to
throw light on the matter. What cried mister Keith, great

(19:51):
scott Man. Then why didn't you say so at the time?
Where is she? Oh? It was not my place, sir,
to hinted at the conversation of the dinner table, said
the butler. Touch of a proof, if I might speak now, sir,
mister Keith clutched at his forehead. Heavens above, do you
want a sign to permit to tell me where my
daughter is? Get on, man, get on with it. I

(20:13):
think it highly poorsbill, sir, that missus Elser and mister
Barstow may be on the highland and the like, Sir.
About a half a mile from the house was a
picturesque strip of water, some fifteen hundred yards in width
and a little less in length, in the center of
which it stood a small and densely wooded island. It
was a favorite haunt of visitors at the house when

(20:33):
there was nothing else to engage their attention. But during
the past week, with shooting de velop the days it
had been neglected on the island, said mister Keith, what
put that idea under your head? Oh? I happen to
be roving on the lake this morning, Sah, I frequently
row over morning so and there are no duties to
detain me in the house. I find the exercise admirable

(20:53):
for the health. I walked briskly to the boat house.
And yes, yes, I don't want a schedule of your
daily exercise. Cut out the athletic reminiscences and come to
the point. As I was rowing on the light this morning, Sir,
I happened to see a boat itched up to a
tree on the highland. I think possibly Miss Elsa and
mister Barstow might have taken a row out there. Mister

(21:15):
Barstow would wish to see the highland, Sir, beIN romantic,
But you say you saw the boat there this morning, Yes, sir, Well,
it doesn't take all day to explore a small island.
What's kept them all this time? It is possible, Sir,
that the rope might not have held mister Barstow, if
I might say so, Sir, is one of those impetuous

(21:37):
literary puzzles, and possibly he obmitted to see that the
knot was hedequately tired or his eye grave and inscrutable
rest for a moment on Martin's or some party might
have come along and untied it a purpose. Untied it
on purpose, said mister Keith. What on earth for? Kiggs

(21:58):
shook his head, depreciating as one who, realizing his limitations,
declines to attempt to probe the hidden sources of human actions.
I thought it right, sir, to let you know, he said, right,
I should say so if else has been kept starving
all day on that island by that long hip, hip,
come along, Martin. He dashed off excitedly into the night.

(22:21):
Martin remained for a moment, gazing fixedly at the butler.
I hope, sir, said Geggs, cordially, that my information will
provide a genuine assistance. Do you know what I should
like to do to you? Martin said slowly. I think
I hear mister Keith calling you, sir. I should like
to take you by the scruff of your neck? There, sir,

(22:41):
don't you hear him? Then? Quite distinct it was, Martin
gave up the struggle with a sense of blank futility.
What could you do with a man like this? It
was like quarreling with Westminster Abbey. I should array, sir,
suggested Keggs, respectfully. I think mister Keith must have met
with some accident. His surmise proved correc When Martin came up,
he found his host seated on the ground in evident pain.

(23:05):
Twisted my ankle in a hole, he explained, briefly, give
me an arm back to the house, there's a good fellow,
and then run on down to the lake and see
if what Keggs said is true. Martin did as he
was requested, so far that as to say, as the
first half the commission was concerned, as regarded the second,
he took it upon himself to make certain changes. Having
seen mister Keith to his room, he put the fitting

(23:27):
out of the relief ship into the good hands of
a group of his fellow guests, whom he discovered in
the porch. ELS's feelings towards her rescuer might be one
of unmixed gratitude, but it might, on the other hand,
be one of resentment. He did not wish her to
connect him in her mind with the episode in any
way whatsoever. Martin had once released a dog from a trap,
and the dog had bitten him. He had been on

(23:50):
an errand of mercy, but the dog had connected him
with his sufferings and acted accordingly. It occurred to Martin
that ELS's frame of mind would be uncommonly like that
of the door Hoggs. The rescue party set off. Martin
lit a cigarette and waited on the porch. It seemed
a very long time before anything happened. But at last,
as he was lighting his fifth cigarette, there came from

(24:11):
the darkness the sound of voices. They drew nearer. Some
one shouted, it's all right, we found them. Martin threw
away his cigarette and went indoors. Elsa Keith sat up
as her mother came into the room. Two nights and
a day had passed. She had taken to her bed.
How are you feeling to day? Ere has he gone? Mother?

(24:33):
Who mister Barstow, Yes, dear, he left this morning, said
he had business with his publisher in London. Then I
can get up, said Elsa thankfully. I think you're a
little hard on poor mister Barstow. Elsie, it was just
an accident, you know. It's not his fault that the
boat slipped away. It was it was, it was, cried Elsa,
thumping the pillow malignantly. I believe he did it on

(24:54):
purpose so that he could read me his horrid poetry
without my having a chance to escape. I believe that
it's the only way he can get people to listen
to it. But you used to like it, darling. You
said he had such a musical voice. Musical voice. The
pillow became a shapeless heap. Mother, it was like a nightmare.
If I had seen him again, I should have had hysterics.

(25:17):
It was awful. If he had been even the least
bit upset himself, I think I could have borne up.
But he enjoyed it. He he reveled in it. He
said it was like, oh, Mark, I am in the wilderness,
and Shelley's episcitity in it, whatever that is. And he
prattled on and on and read and read till my
head began to split. Mother, I hit him, Elsa, I did.

(25:42):
She went on. I hit him as hard as I could,
and he she broke off into a little gurgle of laughter.
He tripped over a bush and fell right down. And
I wasn't a bit ashamed. I didn't think it unladylike anything.
I was just as proud as I could be. And
it stopped him talking. But Elsa, dear, why the sun

(26:02):
had just gone down, and it was a lovely sunset,
and the sky looked like a great beautiful slice of
underdone beef. And I said so to him, and he
said sniffily that he was afraid he didn't see the resemblance.
And I asked him if he wasn't starving, and he
said no, because, as a rule, all that he needed
was a little ripe fruit. That was when I hit him. Elsa. Oh,

(26:24):
I know it was awfully wrong, but I just had to.
And now I'll get up. It looks lovely out. Martin
had not gone out with the guns that day. Missus
Keith had assured him that there was nothing wrong with Elsa,
that she was only tired, but he was anxious and
had remained at home where bulletins could reach him. As
he was returning from a stroll in the grounds, he
heard his name called and saw Elsa lying in the

(26:45):
hammock under the trees near the terrace. Why Martin, why
aren't you out of the guns? She said. I wanted
to be on the spot so that I could hear
how you were. Oh, how nice of you. Why don't
you sit down? May i? Elsa fluttered the pages of
him magazine. You know you're a very RESTful person. Martin,
you are so big and outdoory. How would you like

(27:06):
to read to me for a while? I feel so lazy.
Martin took the magazine. H what shall I read? Oh?
Here's a poem? But Elsa shudder? Oh please please no,
I couldn't bear it. I'll tell you what I should
love the advertisements. There's about sardines. I started it and
it seems splendid. It's at the back somewhere. Oh is

(27:28):
this it? Langley and Field sardines. That's it. Martin began
to read Langley and Field sardines. When you want the daintiest,
most delicious sardines, go to your grocer and say Langley
and Fields please, and you will then be sure of
having the finest Norwegian smoked sardines packed and the purest
alive oil. Elsa was sitting with her eyes closed and

(27:49):
a soft smile of pleasure curving her mouth. Go on,
she said, dreamily. Nothing nicer, resumed Martin, with an added
touch of eloquence, as the theme began to develop. For
Breck his lunch or supper, probably your grocer's stocks them.
Ask him if he does not write to us. Price
fivepence per ten the best sardines and the best oil.

(28:10):
Isn't it lovely? She murmured. Her hand as it swung
touched his. He held it. She opened her eyes. Don't
stop reading, she said, I never heard anything so soothing, Elsa.
He bent toward her. She smiled at him. Her eyes
were dancing, Elsa, I, mister Keith said, A quiet voice

(28:31):
desired me to say. Martin started away. He glaied up furiously.
Gazing down upon them stood Kegs. The butler's face was
shining with a gentle benevolence. Mister Keith desired me to
say that he would be glad if miss Elsa would
come and sit with him for a while. Oh, I'll
come at once, said Elsa, stepping from the hammock. The

(28:52):
butler bowed respectfully and turned away. They stood watching him
as he moved across the ternice. What a seat the
old man Keg's looks, said Elsie. Don't you think so?
He looks as if he had never ever thought of
doing anything he shouldn't. I wonder if he ever has, yes,
said Martin. I wonder he looks like a stout angel.

(29:17):
What were you saying, Martin? When he came up? End
of story eleven The Good Angel recording by Mike Harris,