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Updated: June 22, 2025
He was a young man who much preferred a state of self-satisfaction to humiliation of any sort, and after he had endured Clementina's gaze as long as he could, he said, "Perhaps you don't allow anybody but the chef to call you that?" She did not answer, but repeated the message Mrs. Atwell had given her for him, and went away.
Clementina said nothing to this, but turned briskly, and started upstairs toward her room again. The landlady called after her, "Shall you speak to Mis' Milray, or do you want I should?" Clementina looked back at her over her shoulder to warble, "Why, if you would, Mrs. Atwell," and kept on to her room. Mrs.
Clementina did not sleep till well toward morning, and she was still sleeping when Mrs. Atwell knocked and called in to her that her brother Jim wanted to see her. She hurried down, and in the confusion of mind left over from the night before she cooed sweetly at Jim as if he had been Mr. Gregory, "What is it, Jim? What do you want me for?"
She pretended it was an accident, but it wasn't. Then, in the second half, Mignon poked me in the side with her elbow. We were bunched so close that not even the referee saw her. I almost had the ball, but my side hurt me so that I missed it entirely. Susan Atwell was awfully cross about something that day, too.
Slipping her arm through Muriel's, she drew her ahead of the others. Susan Atwell took a hurried step forward and caught her other arm, leaving Marjorie to walk between Irma and Geraldine. "Don't mind her," said Jerry, in a low voice. "She has it in for that Miss Stevens. She, the Stevens girl, did something, no one knows what, to make Mignon angry with her.
Make that dress youaself? Well, you do beat the witch! I want you should come to my room with me." Mrs. Atwell showered other questions and exclamations on the girl, who explained how she happened to be there, and said that she supposed she must stay where she was for fear Mr. Lander should come back and find her gone; but Mrs. Atwell overruled her with the fact that Mrs.
Time does go so!" "I'm sixteen now," said Clementina, smiling. "You be? Well, I don't see why I say that, eitha! You're full lahge enough for your age, but not seein' you in long dresses before, I didn't realize your age so much. My, but you do all of you know how to do things!" "I'm about the only one that don't, Mrs. Atwell," said the girl.
Miss Atwell, the teacher of esthetic dancing and posing, who came thrice weekly to instill grace into the graceless and emphasize it in those who were already graceful, sat, so to speak, upon the fence, undecided which way to jump.
I don't suppose they could get along without you very well," she suggested. "I've neva been away except last summa, for a little while." "And where was you then?" "I was helping Mrs. Atwell." "Did you like it?" "I don't know," said Clementina. "It's pleasant to be whe'e things ah' going on." "Yes for young folks," said Mrs. Lander, whom the going on of things had long ceased to bring pleasure.
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.
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