Aaron's rod

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AARON'S ROD
was sure the servants did not obey her orders concerning the
Pekinese bitch. Arthur, who was more than indifferent, assured
her they did. But she seemed to think that the whole
of the male human race was in league against the miserable
specimen of a she-dog. She almost cried, thinking her
Queenie might by some chance meet with, perhaps, a harsh
word or look. Queenie apparently fattened on the secret de-
testation of the male human species.
"I can't bear to think that a dumb creature might be ill-
treated," she said to Aaron. "Thank goodness the Italians
are better than they used to be."
"Are they better than they used to be?"
"Oh, much. They have learnt it from us."
She then enquired if her guest had slept, and if he were
rested from his journey. Aaron, into whose face the faint
snow-wind and the sun had brought a glow, replied that he
had slept well and enjoyed the morning, thank you. Whereupon
Lady Franks knitted her brows and said Sir William
had had such a bad night. He had not been able to sleep,
and had got up and walked about the room. The least ex-
citement, and she dreaded a break-down. He must have absolute
calm and restfulness.
"There's one for you and your jawing last night, Aaron,
my boy!" said our hero to himself.
"I thought Sir William seemed so full of life and energy,"
he said, aloud.
"Ah, did you! No, he wants to be. But he can't do it.
He's very much upset this morning. I have been very anx-
ious about him."
"I am sorry to hear that."
Lady Franks departed to some duty. Aaron sat alone before
the fire. It was a huge fireplace, like a dark chamber
shut in by tall, finely-wrought iron gates. Behind these iron
gates of curly iron the logs burned and flickered like leopards
slumbering and lifting their heads within their cage. Aaron
wondered who was the keeper of the savage element, who it
was that would open the iron grille and throw on another
log, like meat to the lions. To be sure the fire was only to