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When he began to intimate something of this feeling his mother promptly motioned to the waitress to withdraw from the room. He then soon learned that they had not attended church since Mrs. Haldane's return from her memorable visit to Hillaton, and that they had no intention of going to-day. "The very thought makes me turn faint and sick," said the poor, weak gentlewoman.
During these six days I had some thoughts of working, the only thing I could think of being a job as a waitress. But when a vision of ham and pert females and more impertinent males came to me my courage oozed away, and I did not even try. I don't think I'll ever work again. Did you ever read Yeats' story 'Where There is Nothing?
A pretty, white-necked waitress came up and asked him with a great display of flashing teeth: "Will monsieur have breakfast?" "Of course I will! Give me some eggs, a cutlet, and cheese. And a bottle of white wine!" She turned to go; he called her back. "Tell me, is it not in one of those houses that the Emperor has his quarters?" "There, monsieur, in that one right before you.
By the time breakfast was ready she had on her white apron and had washed her hands, and when the family came down she was ready to show them all what a well-trained waitress she was. "Do sit down with us," her father begged. "You have done so much already!" But Margaret felt a little proud that she knew her waiting lesson so well, and said she would rather not.
The next week Gusty Durgin made her debut as a picture actress. She had pestered Mr. Bane morn, noon, and night at the hotel until finally the leading man obtained Mr. Anscomb's permission to work the buxom waitress into a picture. "But nothin' funny, Mr. Bane," Gusty begged. "Land sakes!
But just then there came from the smoke-blackened kitchen, where the walls were bright with the colored prints of Epinal, a sound of voices and the squalling of a girl who submits, not unwillingly, to be tousled. It was Lieutenant Rochas, availing himself of his privilege as a conquering hero, to catch and kiss the pretty waitress.
This woman's nose was peaked and her chin receded. In her bonnet some gaudy imitation flowers nodded a vigorous accompaniment. She did not seem ever to have had pleasure or to have been young, and yet in the child by her side her patient joyless sordid life had produced its kind. They had some tea and buttered scones in a cheaper cafe, where Nellie tried to "organise" another waitress.
Sometimes the cooking for the master's family was done in the kitchen of the "big house," but more often in a cabin outside, from which a negro waitress carried the food to the dining-room. The slaves had regular allowances of food, most of which they preferred to cook in their own cabins. Their common food was corn bread and ham or bacon.
"Ask them what wine they would like," whispered the waitress behind me, who saw my plight, and who evidently pitied it, for she added, "Don't let that nasty man at the other end of the table bully you."
The waitress stood up, and to anyone across the room it would have appeared as if they were merely discussing his order, which she was writing on a pad. "If you are still engaged in counterfeiting work," she said, "I may be able to give you a valuable tip." "All right," said Marsh, "bring me one of those oyster pies and a cup of coffee. We'll have a chat when you come back."
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