The bed moved. The veins stood out on my neck and temples. My face
must have been quite purple, and it is a hue that I detest. When I was
a very small laddie my mother put me forward to be admired in purple
velveteen. The horror of it still lingers.
By means of great straining I got the heavy bed over against the mirror,
upsetting the tin bathtub with a crash that under ordinary circumstances
would have made my heart stand still but now only tripled its pumping
activities. One of the legs was hopelessly splintered in the drop from
the raised platform.
"There," she said, standing off to survey our joint achievement, "we've
stopped it up very nicely." She brushed the tips of her fingers
daintily. "This afternoon you may fetch up a hammer and some nails and
fasten the mirror permanently. Then you can move the bed back to its
proper place. Goodness! What a narrow squeak!"
"Madam," said I, my hand on my heart but not through gallantry, "that
bed stays where it is. Not all the king's horses nor all the king's
men can put it back again."
"Was it so heavy, Mr. Smart?"
I swallowed very hard. A prophetic crick already had planted itself
in my back. "Will you forgive me if I submit that you sleep quite a
distance from home?" I remarked with justifiable irony. "Why the deuce
don't you stay on the upper floors?"
"Because I am mortally afraid," she said, with a little shudder. "You've
no idea how lonely, how spooky it is up there at the dead hour of
night. I couldn't sleep. After the third night I had my things moved
down here, where I could at least feel that there were strong men
within--you might say arm's length of me. I'm--I'm shockingly timid."
She smiled; a wavering, pleading little smile that conquered.
"Of course, I don't mind, Countess," I hastened to say. "Only I thought
it would be cosier up there with Rosemary and the two maids for
company."
She leaned a little closer to me. "We all sleep down here," she said
confidentially. "We bring Rosemary's little mattress down every night
and put it in the bathtub. It is a very good fit and makes quite a
nice cradle for her. Helene and Blake sleep just across the hall and
we leave the doors wide open. So, you see, we're not one bit afraid."
I sat down on the edge of the bed and laughed.
"This is delicious," I cried, not without compunction for I was looking
directly into her eager, wistful eyes. A shadow crossed them. "I beg
your pardon. I--I can't help laughing."
"Pray do not stop laughing on my account," she said icily. "I am used
to being laughed at since I left America. They laugh at all of us over
here."
"I dare say they laugh at me, confound them," said I, lugubriously.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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