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Updated: April 30, 2025
Then, with 'Tildy Peggins' gloomy and disapproving eye upon her at this act of overture, she crossed the room. "Major," said Miss Ruth, just a little plaintively, perhaps, "do you suppose you could do something for me?" The Major was wide awake on the instant.
Tildy belonged to the lodging-house sort of girl. What she could have to do with one of Agnes's young ladies puzzled that young person considerably. It was the rule, however, at Aylmer House that no one, however poor or humble, should be treated with rudeness, and certainly a person bringing a message to one of the young ladies was entitled to respect.
Will you come back to the porch, and sit in a Chippendale chair, and let me take your picture for the sale at the church?" "Yes, I don't mind at all," said Beth promptly, turning around and putting her hand in his. "You see Mrs. Tildy Ann and grandmother were having such a long-way-back time, I had to dress up to match everything." "I see," said the minister.
They who sat at her tables spoke to her briefly with quotations from the bill of fare; and then raised their voices in honeyed and otherwise-flavoured accents, eloquently addressed to the fair Aileen. They writhed in their chairs to gaze around and over the impending form of Tildy, that Aileen's pulchritude might season and make ambrosia of their bacon and eggs.
Just then the drawing-room door was opened by means of a kick and a bump, and Tildy entered, weighed down by an enormous tea-tray. Maggie ran to prepare a table for its reception, and Tildy looked at her with eyes of fresh admiration. Mrs. Howland raised herself and also looked at the girl. "Have you kept the cakes downstairs, and the muffins that I ordered, and the gooseberries?"
Hearing them now, Tildy reached hastily for her clean apron and hurried up-stairs. Ordinarily orders for the kitchen came through Miss Jane, the housekeeper, whose mother before her had kept the keys of the Gault house from the day of Mrs. Gault's death to her own.
Didn't Tildy tell you that I had an acute headache?" "Yes, mother; and I didn't know I was noisy," replied Maggie. "I came upstairs as softly as possible. That door" she pointed to the door by which she had entered "creaks horribly. That is not my fault." "Excusing yourself, as usual," said Mrs. Howland.
At the next regular meal when Tildy set food before customers with whom she had acquaintance she said to each of them modestly, as one whose merit needed no bolstering: "A gentleman insulted me to-day in the restaurant. He put his arm around my waist and kissed me."
Howland went to her room, where she fell fast asleep, and Maggie had the drawing-room to herself. She had arranged a sort of extempore bed on the hard sofa, and was about to lie down, when Tildy opened the door. "I say," said Tildy, "ain't he cunnin'?" "What do you mean, Matilda?" said Maggie. "Oh my," said Tildy, "wot a 'arsh word!
Martin enjoyed her life. She had some cards printed with her new name and address, and the notification that she was "at home" on the third, fourth, and fifth of each month. Tildy was very much excited about these At Home days; but the first month after Mrs. Martin's marriage passed without a single individual calling upon her. Mrs.
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