Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 30
A.O. was so mortified she could have cried. Jimmy, feeling the instant
change in her manner, and not able to account for it, grew self
conscious and ill at ease. The conversation flagged, and presently
stopped for such a long time that the lady in black turned a slow glance
in their direction.
Meanwhile, Mary Ware, up in the Domestic Science room, was anxiously
watching a kettle which refused to come to the proper boiling point,
where it could be safely left. What was to be the last batch of her
Christmas candy was in that kettle, for she had emptied the last pound
of Mexican sugar into it. If it wasn't cooked exactly right it would
turn to sugar again when it was cold, and not be of the proper
consistency to hold the nuts together. She did not know what effect it
might have on the mixture to set it off the fire while she went down to
receive her unknown visitor, and then bring it to the boiling point
again after it had once grown cold. She was afraid to run any risks. If
the watch-fob was to reach Jack on time, it would have to be started on
its way in a few days, and on the success of this last lot of candy
depended the getting of the last few dollars necessary to its purchase.
She wished that she had ordered more of the sugar in the first place.
There wouldn't be time now. She had twice as many orders as she had been
able to fill. It would have been so delightful to have gone shopping
with a whole pocket full of money which she had earned herself.
She looked at the clock and then back again at the black-bordered card
on the table. "Mrs. Robertson Redmond." She had never heard of her.
Burning with curiosity, she tried to imagine what possible motive the
stranger had for calling. It was unpardonable that a mere school-girl
should keep a lady waiting so long; a lady in mourning, too, who since
she could not be making social calls, must have a very important reason
for coming. Fidgeting with impatience she bent over the kettle, testing
the hot liquid once more by dropping a spoonful into a cup of cold
water. Still it refused to harden. Finally with a despairing sigh she
slipped off her apron and turned down the gas so low that only a thin
blue circle of flame flickered under the kettle. "In that way it can't
boil over and it can't get cold," she thought. Then she washed her hands
and hurried down to the drawing room.
Until that moment she had forgotten that A.O. was there with her
"suitor," but one hasty glance was all she had time to give him. The
tall lady in black was rising from her chair, was trailing forward to
meet her, was exclaiming in that low full voice which had so impressed
the footman. "Ah! Joyce Ware's own little sister! You've probably never
heard of me, dear, but I've heard of _you_, often. And I knew that Joyce
would want me to take back some message direct from you, so I just came
out to-night for a glimpse."
Not giving the bewildered Mary opportunity to speak a word, she drew her
to a seat beside her and went on rapidly, talking about Joyce and the
success she was making in New York, and the many friends she had among
famous people. Mary grew more and more bewildered. She had not heard
that at the studio receptions which Joyce and her associates in the flat
gave fortnightly, that all these world-known artists and singers and
writers were guests. It was strange Joyce had never mentioned them. But
Mrs. Redmond named them all so glibly and familiarly, that she could not
doubt her.
Almost petrified at seeing Mary walk into the room, A.O. had relapsed
into a silence which she could not break. Jimmy, too, sat tongue-tied,
staring in fascination at the strange blonde lady whose fluent, softly
modulated speech seemed to exert some kind of hypnotic influence over
him. Even through Mary's absorbing interest in Mrs. Robertson Redmond's
tales, came the consciousness that A.O. and her friend were sitting
there, perfectly dumb, and she stole a curious glance in their
direction, wondering why.
"And I have just learned," said Mrs. Redmond, her gold tooth gleaming
through her smile, "overheard it, in fact, quite by accident, that a
dear little friend of mine is in the school--General Walton's youngest
daughter, Elise. I should be so glad to see her also this evening. I
should have sent up a card for her, too, had I known. Would it be too
much trouble for you to send word to her now?"
A.O. blushed furiously, knowing full well how and where the stranger had
overheard that Elise was in the school. She tried frantically to recall
just what it was she had said about her, in her endeavour to amuse
Jimmy. Something extravagant, she knew, or he would not have laughed so
horribly loud.
As Mary rose to send the message to Elise the lady dropped her muff.
They both stooped to pick it up. Mary was first to reach it, and as she
gave it back two things met her astonished gaze. On the little finger of
the bare hand held out for the muff shone the agate that none but
MacIntyres had owned since the days of Malcolm the Second. And through
the parted lips, where an instant before a gold-crowned tooth had
gleamed, shone only perfect little white teeth, with not a glint of
dentist's handiwork about them. The gold-leaf had slipped off.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|