The Laughing Girl. Chambers Robert William

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      "I don't know why a man should receive his servants standing," said I. "Sit down," I added coldly, seating myself.

      "Pardon, but I could not venture to seat myself in Monsieur's presence – "

      Perfectly conscious of the subtle mockery in her voice and manner, I told her sharply to be seated and explain her errand. She curtsied again – a most devilishly impudent little curtsey – and seated herself with the air of a saint on the loose.

      "My thisther Clelia, and my friend Jothephine Vannith, and Raoul Dethpreth requetht the honor of rethpectfully prethenting themthelves to Monsieur's graciouth conthideration," she said with an intentional lisp that enraged me.

      "Very well," I replied briefly. "You may go back and get rid of your lisp, and then explain to them that you are to be waitress and general housekeeper here, and that they are to take their orders from me through you."

      "Yes, Monsieur."

      I don't think she relished my dry bluntness for I saw a slight color gather in her cheeks.

      I thought to myself that I'd come very close to spoiling the girl by my silliness in the cellar. I'd made a fool of myself, but I'd do it no more in spite of her heavenly resemblance to my photograph.

      "That will be all at present, Thusis," I said coldly. "Come back in half an hour for orders. And see that you wear a clean apron."

      Her lovely face was quite red as she passed out, forgetting to curtsey. As for my own emotions they were mixed.

      One thing was certain; there was going to be a show-down between Thusis and me before very long.

      If she were indeed the peasant girl she pretended to be, she'd recover her balance when I did, and learn her proper place. If she were, perhaps, a child of the bourgeoisie – some educated and superior young girl compelled to take service through family misfortune – and I now entertained no further doubt that this was really the case – she had nobody but herself to blame for my present attitude.

      But! – but if, by any inexplicable chance, her social circumstances were, or had once been, even better than bourgeoise, then the girl was a political agent in masquerade. But, whoever she was, she had no business to presume on her wit and insolent beauty to amuse herself at my expense. And if she had really been sent by the Swiss police into my household to keep an eye on me she was going about it in a silly and stupid manner.

      For such surveillance I didn't care a pewter penny. Spies had lagged after me ever since I entered Switzerland. It was rather amusing than otherwise.

      But, as far as Thusis was concerned, I now decided that, no matter what she was or had been, she had voluntarily become my servant; and I intended that she should not again forget that fact.

      As I sat there at my desk, grimly planning discipline for Thusis, I chanced to look up at the photograph of "The Laughing Girl"; and stern thoughts melted like frost at sunrise.

      How amazingly, how disturbingly the lovely pictured features reminded me of Thusis!

      The resemblance, of course, must be pure accident, but what an astonishing coincidence!

      Musing there at my desk, possessed by dreamy and pleasing thoughts, I gradually succumbed to the spell which my treasured photograph invariably wove for me.

      And I unlocked my desk and took out my verses.

      They had been entitled "To Thusis." This I had scratched out and under the canceled dedication I had written: "To a Photograph."

      I had quite forgotten that I had told Thusis to report for orders in half an hour: I was deeply, sentimentally absorbed in my poem. Then there came a low knocking; and at the mere prospect of again encountering my exceedingly impudent housekeeper I experienced a little shock of emotion which started my heart thumping about in a most silly and exasperating manner.

      "Come in!" I said angrily.

      She entered. I kept my seat with an effort.

      "Well," said I in an impatient voice, "what is it now?"

      Thusis looked at me intently for a moment, then the little devils that hid in her gray eyes suddenly laughed at me, totally discrediting the girl's respectful and almost serious face with its red mouth slightly drooping.

      "Monsieur has orders for the household?" she inquired in her sweet, grave voice of a child.

      That floored me. I had spoken about giving my orders through her. I didn't know what orders to give.

      "Certainly," said I, – "hum-hum! Let me see. – Let – me – see," I repeated. "Yes – certainly – the orders must be given – hum-hum! – "

      But what the devil I was to order I hadn't the vaguest idea.

      "We'll have luncheon at one," I said, desperately. She made no observation. I grew redder.

      "We'll dine, too," I added. Her gray eyes mocked me but her mouth drooped respectfully.

      "For further orders," said I, "c-come b-back in half an hour. No, don't do that! Wait a moment. I – I really don't know what sort of an establishment I have here. Hadn't I better make a tour of inspection?"

      "Monsieur will please himself."

      "I think I'd better inspect things."

      "What things, Monsieur?"

      "The – the linen press – er – the batterie-de-cuisine– all that sort of thing. Do you think I'd better do it, Thusis?"

      "Would Monsieur know any more about them if he inspects these things?" she inquired so guilelessly, so smilingly, that I surrendered then and there.

      "Thusis," I said, "I don't know anything about such matters. They bore me. Be a nice child and give what orders are necessary. Will you?"

      "If Monsieur wishes."

      "I do wish it. Please – take full charge and run this ranch for me and bring me the bills. You see I trust you, Thusis, although you have not been very respectful to me."

      "I am sorry, Monsieur," she said with a tragic droop of her lovely mouth. But her eyes belied her.

      "Thusis?"

      "Monsieur?"

      "I won't ask you who you are – "

      "Merci, M'sieu."

      "Don't interrupt me. What I am going to ask you, is, why do you continually and secretly make fun of me – "

      "M'sieu!"

      "You do!"

      "I, M'sieu?"

      "Yes, you, Thusis. Always there is a hint of mockery in your smile, – always the hidden amusement as though, in me, you find something ridiculous – "

      "Please! – "

      " – Something secretly and delightfully absurd – "

      "But you know you are funny," she said, looking СКАЧАТЬ