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Tapple had grown so accustomed to various titles and prefixes of rank among the different guests who came in turn to stay at the Manor, that whereas she had at one time stood in respectful awe of old Pippitt because he was a 'Sir, she now regarded him almost with contempt. What was a 'Sir' to a 'Lord'? Nothing! less than nothing!
Yes quite right! thank you ever so much!" Click-click-click-click! The telegraphic apparatus was at work, and the unofficial operator was entirely engrossed in his business. Mrs. Tapple stood respectfully dumb and motionless, watching him. Maryllia, leaning against the ledge of the office counter, watched him, too.
That same evening Maryllia received a prompt reply to one of the telegrams which Walden had sent off for her in the morning. It was brief and to the point, and only ran: 'Coming. Cicely'; a message which Mrs. Tapple had no difficulty in deciphering, and which she sent up to the Manor, post haste, as soon as it arrived.
Tapple, bridling with scorn, said she 'wondered 'ow a man like 'im wot only made his money in bone-boilin' would dare to be seen with Miss Vancourt's real quality' it was felt that she was expressing an almost national sentiment.
Now if I had not seen this you would have been what is called 'short' this evening in making up accounts." Here he handed the corrected paper to Maryllia. "I think you will find that right." Maryllia opened her purse and paid the amount, and Mrs. Tapple, in giving her change for a sovereign, included among the coins a bright new threepenny piece with a hole in it.
Tapple, who thankfully noting that she was writing another, took time to carefully read and spell over every word, and mastered it all without difficulty. Meanwhile Maryllia prepared her second message thus: "Louis GIGUE, "Je desire que Cicely passe l'ete avec moi et qu'elle arrive immediatement. Elle peut tres-bien continuer ses etudes ici. Vous pouvez suivre, cher maitre, a votre plaisir.
"Do!" said Maryllia, clasping his hand in her own and kissing it "Go and send the wire off through dear old Mrs. Tapple! And then all the village will know how happy I am!" "How happy WE are," corrected John "I think they know that already, Maryllia! But it shall be well impressed upon them!"
And now, when Maryllia herself entered the office, and said smilingly, "Good-morning! Some foreign telegram-forms, please!" Mrs. Tapple felt that the hour was come when her powers of intelligence were about to be tried to the utmost; and she accordingly began to experience vague qualms of uneasiness. "Foreign telegram-forms, Miss? Is it for Ameriky?"
Netlips' shop, however, was just one of those slight indications which showed the vague change that had crept over the erstwhile tranquil atmosphere of St. Rest. Among other signs and tokens of internal disquiet was the increasing pomposity of the village post-mistress, Mrs. Tapple. Mrs.
Maryllia nodded, and he walked into the little office. "Let me send off those telegrams for you, Mrs. Tapple," he said. "You know you often allow me to amuse myself in that way! I haven't touched the instrument for a month at least, and am getting quite out of practice. May I come in?" Mrs. Tapple's face shone with relief and gladness. "Well now, Mr.
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