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Updated: May 14, 2025
I wonder if he thinks we are running after him? Momma, I am tired of him! I wish he wouldn't speak to me any more." "Why! do you really dislike him, Ellen?" "No, not dislike him. But it tires me to have him trying to amuse me. Don't you understand?" Mrs. Kenton said yes, she understood, but she was clear only of the fact that Ellen seemed flushed and weak at that moment.
"Attract his attention, Alexander," said momma. "Pull one of his silly buttons off." The guard gave no sign he was replacing the elastic round my book of coupons after detaching the green one on which was printed, "Strasburg nach Mainz." Poppa and Mr. Malt were sitting opposite each other in the middle of the carriage.
So I merely bowed with what magnificence I could command and filed it, so to speak; and walked to the other side of the deck, leaving poppa to his conscience and momma and his Aunt Caroline. I left him with confidence, not knowing which would give him the worst time. Mrs. Portheris began it, before I was out of earshot.
"Who is Miss Agar?" "My companion, a sort of governess person. She takes me out walks, and sits by when my music-master comes, and so forth. She is new, and she won't do, but I may as well make her useful while she stays." "Why won't she do?" "Oh, she just won't. Momma don't like her much, and I'm not singing her praises."
Now that she was at liberty to put a "stroke" of work; on Babe's dress, "Momma" seemed in no particular hurry to do so. She stood in the middle of the kitchen wrapping her great bony arms in her checked apron and staring at Sheila. Her eyes were like Girlie's turned to stone, as blank and blind as living eyes can be. Sheila did not answer. She was white and her hands shook.
She wished she knew a whole lot of city people. But she didn't know a soul. It was all too glorious to believe. She was in New York! imparadised in New York! "Kedzie! Ked-zee-ee!" "Yes, momma." "Are you in bed?" "Yes, momma." She tried to give her voice a faraway, sleepy sound, for fear that her mother might open the door to be sure. She crept into bed. The lights burned her weary eyes.
I believe the electric light burns all night long in the smoking-cabin, but that is not supposed to indicate that gentlemen are expected to stay there till dawn. I see you have two Havanas left. That will be quite enough for one evening. Good-night, poppa." All the way across momma implored me to become reconciled to Arthur.
Perhaps you've noticed, Miss Sheila, that I'm not a very happy man at home." "You mean ?" "I mean," said Sylvester heavily "Momma." Sheila overcame a horrible inclination to laugh. "I'm so sorry," she said uncertainly. She was acutely embarrassed, but did not know how to escape. And she was sorry for him, for certainly it seemed to her that a man married to Momma had just cause for unhappiness.
But I must say if I were going to have cabbage and onions the same day I wouldn't like the neighbours to know it." I entirely agreed with momma, and was reflecting, while they talked of something else, on the injustice of considering ours the sentimental sex, when the Senator leaned forward and advised me in an undertone to make a note of the market basket.
"Will nobody keep the lady company? It's Popish, but it's good." Nobody would. Momma observed rather uncautiously that the smell of it was enough, at which Mrs. Portheris remarked, with some asperity, that she hoped Mrs. Wick would never be obliged to be indebted to the "smell." "It is quite excellent," she said, "most cordial. I really think, as a precaution, I'll take another glass."
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