Amarilly of Clothes-line AlleyManiates, Belle Kanaris
General
Amarilly of Clothes-line Alley
Maniates, Belle Kanaris
Poor -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
He answered the present summons promptly and palpitatingly. It had been
two weeks since he had remonstrated with Colette for the surprisingly
sudden announcement, made in seeming seriousness, that she was going to
study opera with a view to going on the stage. The fact that she had a
light, sweet soprano adapted only to the rendition of drawing-room
ballads did not lessen in his eyes the probability of her carrying out
this resolve.
She had met his reproving expostulations in a spirit of bantering
raillery and replied with a defiance of his opinion that had pierced his
heart with arrow-like swiftness. Since then she had studiously avoided
meeting him, and he was not sure whether he was now recalled to listen
to a reiteration of her intentions or to receive an anodyne for the
bitterness of her remarks at their last interview.
"I sent for you, John," she said demurely and without preamble, "to see
if you have found a satisfactory laundress yet for the surplices."
"Colette!" he exclaimed in rebuking tone, his face reddening at her
question which he supposed to be made in mere mockery.
"I am not speaking to you as Colette King," she replied with a look half
cajoling, half flippant, "but as a teacher in the Young Woman's
Auxiliary Guild to the rector of St. Mark's. You see I no longer lead a
foolish, futile life. Here is the evidence in the case," holding up a
slender pink forefinger. "See how it is pricked! For three Saturday
afternoons I have shown little girls that smelled of fried potatoes how
to sew. I shall really learn something myself about the feminine art of
needlework if I continue in my present straight, domestic path."
"Colette, you cannot know how glad I am to hear this. Why did you try to
make me think the laundry work was--"
"But the laundry work _is_ the main issue. Yesterday I had quite decided
to give up this uninteresting work."
Watching him warily, she let the shadow in his eyes linger a moment
before she continued:
"And then there came into my class a new pupil, poorly clad and
ignorant, but so redolent of soapsuds and with such a freshly laundered
look that I renewed my inclinations to charity. I took her home in my
electric, and she lived at a distance that gave me ample time to listen
to the complete chronicles of her young life. Her father is dead. Her
mother was left with eight children whom she supports by taking in
washing. They have a boarder and they go around the dining-room table
twice. My new pupil's name is Amarilly Jenkins, and she has educational
longings which cannot be satisfied because she has to work, so I am
going to enter her in St. Mark's night-school when she has finished a
special course with the private tutor she now has."
"Colette," said the young minister earnestly, "why do you continually
try to show yourself to me in a false light? It was sweet in you to take
this little girl home in your brougham and to feel an interest in her
improvement."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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