Ragged Lady. William Dean Howells

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СКАЧАТЬ it. He tried to lose himself in his book, but her tender voice spoke from time to time beyond the boxes, and Gregory kept listening for Clementina to say, “No'm, there a'n't. Perhaps, the'e'll be something the next mail,” and “Yes'm, he'e's one, and I guess this paper is for some of youa folks, too.”

      Gregory shut his book with a sudden bang at last and jumped to his feet, to go away.

      The girl came running round the corner of the boxes. “Oh! I thought something had happened.”

      “No, nothing has happened,” said Gregory, with a sort of violence; which was heightened by a sense of the rings and tendrils of loose hair springing from the mass that defined her pretty head. “Don't you know that you oughtn't to say 'No'm' and 'Yes'm?”' he demanded, bitterly, and then he expected to see the water come into her eyes, or the fire into her cheeks.

      Clementina merely looked interested. “Did I say that? I meant to say Yes, ma'am and No, ma'am; but I keep forgetting.”

      “You oughtn't to say anything!” Gregory answered savagely, “Just say Yes, and No, and let your voice do the rest.”

      “Oh!” said the girl, with the gentlest abeyance, as if charmed with the novelty of the idea. “I should be afraid it wasn't polite.”

      Gregory took an even brutal tone. It seemed to him as if he were forced to hurt her feelings. But his words, in spite of his tone, were not brutal; they might have even been thought flattering. “The politeness is in the manner, and you don't need anything but your manner.”

      “Do you think so, truly?” asked the girl joyously. “I should like to try it once!”

      He frowned again. “I've no business to criticise your way of speaking.”

      “Oh yes'm—yes, ma'am; sir, I mean; I mean, Oh, yes, indeed! The'a! It does sound just as well, don't it?” Clementina laughed in triumph at the outcome of her efforts, so that a reluctant visional smile came upon Gregory's face, too. “I'm very mach obliged to you, Mr. Gregory—I shall always want to do it, if it's the right way.”

      “It's the right way,” said Gregory coldly.

      “And don't they,” she urged, “don't they really say Sir and Ma'am, whe'e—whe'e you came from?”

      He said gloomily, “Not ladies and gentlemen. Servants do. Waiters—like me.” He inflicted this stab to his pride with savage fortitude and he bore with self-scorn the pursuit of her innocent curiosity.

      “But I thought—I thought you was a college student.”

      “Were,” Gregory corrected her, involuntarily, and she said, “Were, I mean.”

      “I'm a student at college, and here I'm a servant! It's all right!” he said with a suppressed gritting of the teeth; and he added, “My Master was the servant of the meanest, and I must—I beg your pardon for meddling with your manner of speaking—”

      “Oh, I'm very much obliged to you; indeed I am. And I shall not care if you tell me of anything that's out of the way in my talking,” said Clementina, generously.

      “Thank you; I think I won't wait any longer for Mr. Fane.”

      “Why, I'm su'a he'll be back very soon, now. I'll try not to disturb you any moa.”

      Gregory turned from taking some steps towards the door, and said, “I wish you would tell Mr. Fane something.”

      “For you? Why, suttainly!”

      “No. For you. Tell him that it's all right about his calling you Boss.”

      The indignant color came into Clementina's face. “He had no business to call me that.”

      “No; and he doesn't think he had, now. He's truly sorry for it.”

      “I'll see,” said Clementina.

      She had not seen by the time Fane got back. She received his apologies for being gone so long coldly, and went away to Mrs. Atwell, whom she told what had passed between Gregory and herself.

      “Is he truly so proud?” she asked.

      “He's a very good young man,” said Mrs. Atwell, “but I guess he's proud. He can't help it, but you can see he fights against it. If I was you, Clem, I wouldn't say anything to the guls about it.”

      “Oh, no'm—I mean, no, indeed. I shouldn't think of it. But don't you think that was funny, his bringing in Christ, that way?”

      “Well, he's going to be a minister, you know.”

      “Is he really?” Clementina was a while silent. At last she said, “Don't you think Mr. Gregory has a good many freckles?”

      “Well, them red-complected kind is liable to freckle,” said Mrs. Atwell, judicially.

      After rather a long pause for both of them, Clementina asked, “Do you think it would be nice for me to ask Mr. Gregory about things, when I wasn't suttain?”

      “Like what?”

      “Oh-wo'ds, and pronunciation; and books to read.”

      “Why, I presume he'd love to have you. He's always correctin' the guls; I see him take up a book one day, that one of 'em was readin', and when she as't him about it, he said it was rubbage. I guess you couldn't have a betta guide.”

      “Well, that was what I was thinking. I guess I sha'n't do it, though. I sh'd neva have the courage.” Clementina laughed and then fell rather seriously silent again.

      VII.

      One day the shoeman stopped his wagon at the door of the helps' house, and called up at its windows, “Well, guls, any of you want to git a numba foua foot into a numba two shoe, to-day? Now's youa chance, but you got to be quick abort it. The'e ha'r't but just so many numba two shoes made, and the wohld's full o' numba foua feet.”

      The windows filled with laughing faces at the first sound of the shoeman's ironical voice; and at sight of his neat wagon, with its drawers at the rear and sides, and its buggy-hood over the seat where the shoeman lounged lazily holding the reins, the girls flocked down the stairs, and out upon the piazza where the shoe man had handily ranged his vehicle.

      They began to ask him if he had not this thing and that, but he said with firmness, “Nothin' but shoes, guls. I did carry a gen'l line, one while, of what you may call ankle-wea', such as spats, and stockin's, and gaitas, but I nova did like to speak of such things befoa ladies, and now I stick ex-elusively to shoes. You know that well enough, guls; what's the use?”

      He kept a sober face amidst the giggling that his words aroused,—and let his voice sink into a final note of injury.

      “Well, if you don't want any shoes, to-day, I guess I must be goin'.” He made a feint of jerking his horse's reins, but forebore at the entreaties that went up from the group of girls.

      “Yes, we do!” “Let's see them!” “Oh, СКАЧАТЬ