Martha By-the-Day
Page 13
CHAPTER XIII
"Hullo, Martha!" said Radcliffe.
Mrs. Slawson bowed profoundly. "Hullo yourself! I ain't had the pleasureof meetin' you for quite some time past, an' yet I notice my absentsain't made no serious alteration for the worst in your appearance. Youain't fell away none, on account of my not bein' here."
"Fell away from what?" asked Radcliffe.
"Fell away from nothin'. That's what they call a figger o' speech. Meansyou ain't got thin."
"Well, _you've_ got thin, haven't you, Martha? I don't 'member yourcheeks had those two long lines in 'em before."
"Lines?" repeated Martha, regarding herself in the mirror of an etagereshe was polishing. "Them ain't _lines_. Them's dimples."
Radcliffe scrutinized her critically for a moment. "They're not likeMiss Lang's dimples," he observed at last. "Miss Lang's dimples looklike when you blow in your milk to cool it--they're there, an' then theyain't there. She vanishes 'em in, an' she vanishes 'em out, but thoselines in your face, they just stay. Only they weren't there before,when you were here."
"The secret is, my dimples is the kind that takes longer to vanish 'emout when you once vanished 'em in. Mine's way-train dimples. Miss Lang'sis express. But you can take it from me, dimples is faskinatin',whatever specie they are."
"What's _faskinatin'?"_
"It's the thing in some things that, when it ain't in other things, youdon't care a thing about 'em."
"Are _you_ faskinatin'?"
"That's not for me to say," said Martha, feigning coyness. "But thismuch I will confess, that some folks which shall be nameless, considersme so. An' they'd oughter know."
"Is Miss Lang faskinatin'?"
"Ask your Uncle Frank."
"Why must I ask him?"
"If you wanter know."
"Does he know?"
"Prob'ly. He's a very well-informed gen'l-man on most subjecks."
"I do' want to ask my Uncle Frank anything about Miss Lang. Once I askedhim somethin' about her, an' he didn't like it."
"What'd you ask him?"
"I asked him if she wasn't his best girl."
"What'd he say?"
"He said 'No!' quick, just like that--'No!' I guess he was cross withme, an' I know he didn't like it. When I asked my mother why he didn'tlike it, she said because Miss Lang's only my governess. An' when I toldMiss Lang what my mother, she told me, Miss Lang, she didn't like iteither."
"Now, what do you think o' that?" ejaculated Martha. "Nobody didn't seemto like nothin' in that combination, did they? You was the only one inthe whole outfit that showed any tack."
"What means that--_tack?"_
"It's a little thing that you use when you want to keep things inplace--keep 'em from fallin' down. There's two kinds. One you musthammer in, an' the other you mustn't."
"I wisht Miss Lang _was_ my Uncle Frank's best girl. But I guess she'ssomebody else's."
"Eh?" said Martha sharply, sitting back on her heels and twisting herpolishing-cloth into a rope, as if she were wringing it out. "Now, whosebest girl do you think she is, if I may make so bold?"
Radcliffe settled down to business.
"Yesterday Miss Lang an' me was comin' home from the Tippydrome, an' mymother she had comp'ny in the drawin'-room. An' I didn't know there wascomp'ny first-off, coz Shaw he didn't tell us, an' I guess I talkedkinder loud in the hall, an' my mother she heard me, an' she wasn'tcross or anythin', she just called to me to come along in, an' see thecomp'ny. An' I said, 'No, I won't! Not less Miss Lang comes too.' An' mymother, she said, 'Miss Lang, come too.' An' Miss Lang, she didn'twanter, but she hadter. An' the comp'ny was a gen'l'man an' a lady, an'the minit the gen'l'man, he saw Miss Lang, he jumped up outer his chairlike a jumpin'-jack, an' his eyes got all kinder sparkly, an' he heldout both of his hands to her, an' sorter shook her hands, till you'dthink he'd shake 'em off. An' my mother, she said, 'I see you an' MissLang are already 'quainted, Mr. Van Brandt.' An' he laughed a lot, theway you do when you're just tickled to death, an' he said, ''Quainted?Well, I should say so! Miss Lang an' I are old, old friends!' An' hekep' lookin' at her, an' lookin' at her, the way you feel when there'ssomethin' on the table you like, an' you're fearful 'fraid it will begone before it's passed to you. An' my mother she said to the othercomp'ny, 'Miss Pelham, this is Radcliffe.' An' Miss Pelham, she waslookin' sideways at Miss Lang an' Mr. What's-his-name, but she pertendedshe was lookin' at me, an' she said (she's a Smarty-Smarty-gave-a-party,Miss Pelham is), she said, 'Radcliffe, Radcliffe? I wonder if you'reany relation to Radcliffe College?' An' I said, 'No. I wonder if you areany relation to Pelham Manor?' An' while they was laughin', an' mymother she was tellin' how percoshus I am, my Uncle Frank he came in. Hecame in kinder quiet, like he always does, an' he stood in the door, an'Mr. What's-his-name was talkin' to Miss Lang so fast, an' lookin' at herso hard, they didn't neither of 'em notice. An' when my Uncle Frank, henoticed they didn't notice, coz they was havin' such fun by themselves,he put his mouth together like this--like when your tooth hurts, an' youbite on it to make it hurt some more, an' then he talked a lot to MissPelham, an' didn't smile pleasant an' happy at Mr. What's-his-name an'Miss Lang, when my mother, she interdooced 'em. An' soon Miss Lang, shetook me upstairs an' she didn't look near so tickled to death as Mr. VanBrandt, he looked. An' when I asked her if she wasn't, she said: 'O'course I am. Mr. Van Brandt was a friend o' mine when I was a littlegirl. An' when you're a stranger in a strange land, anybody you knewwhen you was at home seems dear to you.' But she didn't look near sopleased as he did. She looked more like my Uncle Frank, he did before hegot talkin' so much to Miss Pelham. An' now I guess the way of it is,Miss Pelham's my Uncle Frank's best girl an' Miss Lang's Mr.What's-his-name's."
"Well, now! Who'd believed you could 'a' seen so much? Why, you're areg'ler Old Sleuth the Detective, or Sherlock Holmes, or somebody likethat, for discoverin' things, ain't you?"
"I don't want Miss Pelham to be my Uncle Frank's best girl, an' I don'tsee why that other man he don't have her for his, like she wasfirst-off, an' leave my Miss Lang alone."
"It all is certainly very dark an' mysterious," said Mrs. Slawson,shaking her head. "You don't know where you're at, at all. Like when youwake up in the black night, an' hear the clock give one strike. Youcouldn't tell, if your life hung in the ballast, if it's half-pasttwelve, or one, or half-past."
Radcliffe pondered this for a space, but was evidently unable to fathomits depth, for presently he let it go with a sigh, and swung off toanother topic.
"Say, do you know our cook, 'Liza--the one we uster have--has goneaway?"
"So I gathered from not havin' saw her fairy-figger hoverin' round thekitchen as I come in, an' meetin' another lady in her place--name ofAugusta, Beetrice said."
"Yes, sir! Augusta's the new one. I guess Augusta don't drink."
"Which, you are suggesting 'Liza does?"
"Well, my mother, she don't know I know, but I do. I heard Shaw tellin''bout it. It was 'Liza's day out, an' she went an' got 'toxicated, an' ap'liceman he took her up, an' nex' mornin' my Uncle Frank, they sent tohim out of the station-house to have him _bail her out_."
"My, my! She was as full as that?"
"What's bail her out?" inquired Radcliffe.
Mrs. Slawson considered. "When a boat gets full of water, because o'leakin' sides or heavy rains or shippin' seas, or whatever they callsit, you bail her out with a tin can or a sponge or anythin' you have byyou."
"Was Liza full of water?"
"I was describin' _boats_," said Martha. "An' talkin' o' boats, did Itell you we got a new kitten to our house? He's a gray Maltee. His nameis Nixcomeraus."
"Why is his name Nix--why is his name _that_?"
"Nixcomeraus? His name's Nixcomeraus because he's from the Dutchman'shouse. If you listen good, you'll see that's poetry--
"'Nixcomeraus from the Dutchman's house!'
"I didn't make it up, but it's poetry all the same. A Dutchman gen'l'manwho lives nex' door to me, made him a pre
sent to our fam'ly."
"Do you like him?"
"The Dutchman gen'l'man?"
"No, the--the Nix--the _cat_?"
"Certaintly we like him. He's a decent, self-respectin' little fellathat 'tends to his own business, an' keeps good hours. An' you'd oughtersee how grand him an' Flicker gets along! Talk o' a cat-and-dogexistence! Why, if all the married parties I know, not to speak o' someothers that ain't, hit it off as good as Flicker an' Nixcomeraus, therewouldn't be no occasion for so many ladies takin' the rest-cure atReno."
"What's Reno?"
"Reno? Why, Reno's short for merino. Like I'd say, Nix for Nixcomeraus,which is a kinder woolen goods you make dresses out of. There! Did youhear the schoolroom bell? I thought I heard it ringin' a while ago, butI wasn't sure. Hurry now, an' don't keep Miss Lang waitin'. She wantsyou to come straight along up, so's she can learn you to be a big an'handsome gen'l'man like your Uncle Frank."
When Radcliffe had left her, Martha went over in her mind the items hehad guilelessly contributed to her general fund of information. Take itall in all, she was not displeased with what they seemed to indicate.
"Confidence is a good thing to have, but a little wholesome doubt don'thurt the masculine gender none. I guess, if I was put to it, I couldcount on one hand with no fingers, the number o' gen'l'men, no matterhow plain, have died because 'way down in their hearts they believedthey wasn't reel _A-1 Winners._ That's one thing it takes a lot o' hardusage to convince the sect of. They may feel they ain't gettin' theirdoos, that they're misunderstood, an' bein' sold below cost. But thatthey're ackchelly shopworn, or what's called 'seconds,' or put on the_As Is_ counter because they're cracked, or broke, or otherwise slightlydisfigured, but still in the ring--why, _that_ never seems to percolatethrough their brains, like those coffee-pots they use nowadays, thatdon't make no better coffee than the old kind, if you know how to do itgood, in the first place.
"On the other hand, ladies is dretful tryin'! They act like they're thediscoverers of perpetchal emotion, an' is _on the job_ demonstratin'.You can't count on 'em for one minit to the next, which they certaintlywas never born to be aromatic cash-registers. An' p'raps that's thereason, bein' natchelly so poor at figgers, they got to rely to such aextent on corsets. I'm all for women myself. I believe they're thecomin' man, but I must confess, if I'm to speak the truth, it ain't forthe simple, uninfected, childlike mind o' the male persuasion to follertheir figaries, unless he's some of a trained acrobat.
"Now, the harsh way Miss Claire has toward Mr. Ronald! You'd think hehad give himself dead away to her, an' was down on his knee-pans humbleas a 'Piscerpalian sayin' the Literny in Lent, grubbin' about among thedust she treads on, to touch the hem o' her garment. Whereas, in someway unbeknownst to me, an' prob'ly unbeknownst to him, he's touched herpride, which is why she's so up in arms, not meanin' his--worse luck!An' it would have all worked out right in the end, an' will yet, _if_this new party that Radcliffe mentioned ain't Mr. Buttinsky, an' shedon't foller the dictates of her _art_ an' flirt with him toooutrageous, or else marry him to spite herself, which is what I mean topervent if I can, but which, of course, it may be I can't."