When the Commonwealth of Bobberts had adopted the Fenelby Domestic Tariff it had been Mrs. Fenelby’s duty to inform Bridget of it, and to explain it to her, and for two days Mrs. Fenelby worried about it. It was only by exercising the most superhuman wiles that a servant could be persuaded to sojourn in the suburb. To hold one in thrall it was necessary to practice the most consummate diplomacy. The suburban servant knows she is a rare and precious article, and she is apt to be headstrong and independent, and so she must be driven with a tight rein and strong hand, and yet she is so apt to leave at a moment’s notice if anything offends her, that she must be driven with a light rein and a hand as light and gentle as a bit of thistledown floating on a zephyr. This is a hard combination to attain. It is like trying to drive a skittish and headstrong horse, densely constructed of lamp-chimneys and window glass, down a rough cobble-stoned hill road. If given the rein the glass horse will dash madly to flinders, and if the rein is held taut the horse’s glass head will snap off and the whole business go to crash. No juggler keeping alternate cannon-balls and feathers in the air ever exercised greater nicety of calculation than did Mrs. Fenelby in her act of at once retaining and restraining Bridget.

To go boldly into the kitchen and announce to Bridget that she would hereafter be expected to pay into Bobberts’ bank ten per cent. of the value of every necessity and thirty per cent. of the value of every luxury she brought into the house was the last thing that Mrs. Fenelby would have thought of doing. There were bits in that rough sketch of human nature known as Bridget’s character that did not harmonize with the idea. There had been nothing said, when Bridget had been engaged, about a domestic tariff. Paying one is not usually considered a part of a general house-worker’s duties, and Mrs. Fenelby felt that it would be poor policy to break this news to Bridget too abruptly. She used diplomacy.

“Bridget,” she said, kindly, “we are very well satisfied with the way you do your work. We like you very well indeed.”

“Thank ye, ma’am,” answered Bridget, “and I’m glad to hear ye say it, though it makes little odds t’ me. I do the best I know how, ma’am, and if ye don’t like the way I do, there is plenty of other ladies would be glad t’ get me.”

“But we do like the way you do,” said Mrs. Fenelby eagerly. “We are perfectly satisfied—perfectly!”

“From th’ way ye started off,” said Bridget, with a shrug of her shoulders, “I thought ye was goin’ t’ give me th’ bounce. Some does it that way.”

“No, indeed,” Mrs. Fenelby assured her. “Especially not as you take such an interest in dear little Bobberts. You seem to like him as well as if he was your own little brother. Did I tell you what Mr. Fenelby had planned for him?”

“Somethin’ t’ make more worrk for me, is it?” asked Bridget suspiciously.

“Not at all!” said Mrs. Fenelby. “It is just about his education; about when he gets old enough to go to college.”

“’Twill be a long time from now before then,” said Bridget. “I can see it has nawthin’ to do with me.”

“But that is just it,” said Mrs. Fenelby. “It has something to do with you—and with all of us. With everyone in this house. You love little Bobberts so much that you will be glad to help in his education.”“Will I?” said Bridget in a way that was not too encouraging.

“Yes, I know you will,” Mrs. Fenelby chirped cheerfully, “because it is the cutest plan. I know you will be so interested in it. Mr. Fenelby thought of it himself, and he told me to tell you about it, because, really, you know, you are just like one of the family—”

“Barring I have t’ be in at ten o’clock and have t’ sleep in th’ attic,” Bridget interposed. “And don’t eat with th’ family. And a few other differences. But go ahead and tell me what is th’ extry worrk.”“Well, it isn’t extra work at all,” said Mrs. Fenelby reassuringly. “It is just a way we thought of to raise money to pay for Bobberts’ education. It is like a government and taxes, and everybody in the family pays part of the taxes—”

“I was wonderin’ why I was one of the family so much, all of a suddent,” said Bridget. “I thought something was comin’. I notice that whenever I get to be one of th’ family, ma’am, where ever I happen t’ be workin’, something comes. But it never has been taxes before. It is a new one to me, taxes is.”

Mrs. Fenelby explained as clearly as she could the meaning and method of the Fenelby Domestic Tariff, and its simple schedule of rates, and Bridget listened attentively. Mrs. Fenelby expected an explosion, and was prepared for it.

“I’m sure I’m much obliged t’ ye, Missus Fenelby,” said Bridget, sarcastically, “an’ ’tis a great honor ye are doin’ me t’ take me into th’ family this way, but ’tis agin me principles t’ be one of th’ family on sixteen dollars a month when there is tariffs in th’ same family. I’m thinkin’ I’ll stay outside th’ family, ma’am. An’ if ye will kindly let me past, I’ll go up an’ be packin’ up me trunk.”“But Bridget,” Mrs. Fenelby said, quickly, “I am not through yet. I knew you couldn’t afford to pay the—the tariff. I didn’t expect you to, out of your wages. And if you had just waited a minute I was going to tell you that, seeing that you will be out of pocket by the tariff, I am going to pay you eighteen dollars a month after this.”

“Well, of course,” said Bridget with a sweet smile, “I was only jokin’ about me trunk.”

So that was all settled, and Mrs. Fenelby felt at ease, but she did not think it necessary to tell her husband about the extra two dollars a month. It came out of her housekeeping money, and she could economize a little on something else.

“Laura,” said her husband that evening, “have you spoken to Bridget about the tariff yet?”

“Yes, dear,” she answered, and he said that was right, and that she must see that Bridget lived up to it. But he did not tell her that he had interviewed Bridget while Mrs. Fenelby was upstairs a few minutes before, nor that he had privately agreed with Bridget to pay her two dollars a month extra out of his own pocket provided she accepted the Fenelby Domestic Tariff, and abided by it, just as if she was one of the family. Neither did Bridget think it worth while to mention it to Mrs. Fenelby. From the time she was informed of the existence of the tariff up to the arrival of Kitty Bridget paid into Bobberts’ bank twenty cents. This was the duty on a two dollar hat that even the most critical mind could not have called a luxury, and there Bridget’s payments seemed to stop. She did not seem to feel the need of making any purchases just then.

“Kitty, dear,” said Mrs. Fenelby, gently, the morning of the damp foot-prints on the porch, after the men had started for the station, “that is a pretty shirt-waist you have on this morning.”

“Do you like it?” asked Kitty, innocently. “Don’t you think it is a little tight across the shoulders?”

“No,” said Mrs. Fenelby. “And I like this skirt better than the one you were wearing yesterday.”

There was no mistaking the meaning of that. The way Mrs. Fenelby bowed over the bit of sewing she had taken up was evidence that she had suspicion in her mind. Kitty clasped her hands behind her back and laughed.

“You have been looking into my closet!” she declared. “You sit there and try to look innocent, and you know everything that I have, down to the last ribbon! Well, I just can’t afford to pay your old tariff. It would simply ruin me. And the men will never know, anyway. They don’t notice such things. I could wear a different dress every day, and they wouldn’t know it.”

“But I know it,” said Laura, reprovingly. “Do you think it is right, Kitty, to smuggle things into the house that way? Is it fair to Bobberty?”

“There!” exclaimed Kitty, dropping a jingling coin into Bobberts’ bank. “There is a quarter for him! That is every cent I can afford.”“That wouldn’t pay the duty on one single shirt-waist,” said Laura, quietly.

“It wouldn’t,” admitted Kitty, frankly, bending over Laura and taking her face in her hands. She turned the face upward and looked in its eyes. Then she bent down and whispered in Laura’s ear, and laughed as a blush suffused Laura’s face.

“I was short of money,” said Laura with dignity, “and I mean to pay the duty as soon as I get my next week’s allowance. I simply had to have a new purse, and you coaxed me to buy it. It wasn’t smuggling at all.”

“Wasn’t it?” asked Kitty. “Then why did you ask me to leave it in my room, instead of showing it to Tom? Smuggler!”

Mrs. Fenelby arose and walked away. She turned to the kitchen and opened the door. She was just in time to see Bridget lower a bottle from her lips and hastily conceal it behind her skirts.

“Bridget!” she exclaimed sharply, with horror.

“’Tis th’ doctor’s orders, ma’am,” said Bridget. “’Tis for me cold.”

She coughed as well as she could, but it was not a very successful cough. Mrs. Fenelby hesitated a moment, and then she pointed to the door.“You may pack your trunk, Bridget,” she said, and Bridget jerked off her apron and stamped out of the kitchen.

“But perhaps the poor thing was taking it by her doctor’s orders,” suggested Kitty, when Mrs. Fenelby, red eyed, went into the front rooms again.

“She’ll have to go,” said Mrs. Fenelby, dolefully. “I can’t have a drinking servant where poor, dear Bobberts is. But that isn’t what makes me feel so badly. It is to think how that girl has deceived me. I treated her just as I would treat one of the family, and she pretended to be so fond of Bobberts, and so interested in his education, and so eager to help his fund, and here she has been smuggling liquor into the house all the time.”

She wiped her eyes and sighed.

“And liquor is a luxury, and pays thirty per cent.,” she said sadly. “I don’t know who to trust when I can’t trust a girl like Bridget. She should have paid the duty the minute she brought the stuff into the house. It just shows that you can’t place any reliance on that class.”

Kitty nodded assent.

“You’ll have to pay her,” she said. “Shall I run up and get your purse?”

She went, and as she reached the hall, Billy entered. He gazed at Kitty’s garments closely, making mental note of them for future comparisons, and as he stood aside to let her pass he held one hand carefully out of sight behind him. It held a package—an oblong package, sharply rectangular in shape. A close observer would have said it was a box such as contains fifty cigars when it is full, but it was not full. Billy had taken one of the cigars out when he made the purchase at the station cigar store.