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This was Lize, who did about the quarters and cooked the meals of the older servants who were no longer in active service. It was just at the dinner hour that she came hurrying up to the "big house," and with the freedom of an old and privileged retainer went directly to the dining-room.
I'll fix you up, and I'll get some one to take your place." Catching sight of Swenson and Lize on the bridge, he asked: "Who are those people? Can't they take your nursing job?" "No!" answered Cavanagh, bluntly. "It's no use, I can't join you in this at least, not now." "But you'll give me the names which Dunn gave you?" "No, I can't do that.
I wore a mustache in the old days, and there's a scar on my chin." As he rode he confided this strange thing to Cavanagh. "I know," said he, "that Lize is old and wrinkled, for I've seen her, but all the same I can't realize it. That heavy-set woman down there is not Lize. My Lize is slim and straight. This woman whom you know has stolen her name and face, that's all.
What has happened?" "Nothing much," Lize replied, contemptuously, "but you'd think a horse had been stole. Ross has nipped Joe Gregg and one of his herders for killing mountain-sheep." "Do you mean he shot them?" "Yes; he took their heads." Lee stood aghast. "What do you mean? Whose heads?" Lize laughed. "The sheeps' heads. Oh, don't be scared, no one is hurt yet!"
"Well, what is it now, Uncle Simon?" the master asked, heeding the servant's embarrassment, "I know you've come up to ask or tell me something. Have any of your converts been backsliding, or has Buck been misbehaving again?" "No, suh, de converts all seem to be stan'in' strong in de faif, and Buck, he actin' right good now." "Doesn't Lize bring your meals regular, and cook them good?"
Traitorous as it seemed, it was a great relief a joy to know that her own mother, her real mother, had been "nice." "She must have been nice or Lize would not have said so," she reasoned, recalling that her stepmother had admitted her feeling of jealousy. At last Lize rose. "Well, now, dearie, I reckon we had better turn in. It is getting chilly and late."
The sister Serene Davis, a frail, fair lady, entered. "Well," said the latter, "I suppose you've heard " she paused to get her breath. "What?" said the sister Lize, in a whisper, approaching the new arrival. "My heart is all in a flutter don't hurry me." The sister Lize went to the door and closed it. Then she turned quickly, facing the other woman.
He was a piteous figure as he struggled thus, and it needed neither his relationship to Lee nor his bravery in caring for the Basque herder to fill the ranger's heart with a desire to relieve his suffering. "Perhaps I should have sent for Lize at once," he mused, as the light brought out the red signatures of the plague.
Lize, who was news-gatherer and carrier extraordinary, bore the tidings to her owners. She burst into the big house with the cry of "Whut I tell you! Whut I tell you!" "Well, what now," exclaimed both Mr. and Mrs. Marston. "Didn' I tell you ol' Simon was up to some'p'n?" "Out with it," exclaimed her master, "out with it, I knew he was up to something, too." "George, try to remember who you are."
And so the division had kept up for years. It was hardly to be believed then that Uncle Simon Marston, the very patriarch of the Marston flock, was visiting over the border. But on another Sunday he was seen to go straight to the west plantation. At her first opportunity Lize accosted him: "Look a-hyeah, Brothah Simon, whut's dis I been hyeahin' 'bout you, huh?"
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