Frivolities, Especially Addressed to Those Who Are Tired of Being SeriousMarsh, Richard
General
Frivolities, Especially Addressed to Those Who Are Tired of Being Serious
Marsh, Richard
Fiction; Humorous stories, English; Short stories, English
The row of girls stared at Mr. Harland, dry-eyed and open-mouthed.
He spoke in a tongue which was strange to them.
"Andrew," cried his wife, "I am ashamed of you! How can you talk like
that!"
Mr. Harland continued, almost as if he were speaking to himself. "It
occurs to me that I have read somewhere, it was perhaps in some old
book, that in American schools they run--I believe the term is a
correct one--the boys and girls together. I hope Mr. Bindon is not
under the impression that such a system obtains in Duddenham."
"Andrew, it is shocking! Upon my word, I feel inclined to cry."
"Do not cry, Maria; do not cry. Suppose, instead of crying, you come
with me to the study, and let me say a word to you alone."
"Andrew," cried the lady, as she closed the study door, "I really am
ashamed of you. How can you say such things--a man in your position?"
"A man in my position, Maria, is justified in saying anything, even
damn. It is because my tongue inclines to adjectives, strong and pithy
adjectives, that I endeavour to let off the steam in another way."
"What are you going to do with those poor girls?"
"What are you going to do, Maria? Girls are more in your line than
mine."
"I believe he's done it on purpose, that Bindon man. I don't believe
it's possible to make such a mistake; shipping girls in mistake for
boys, indeed!"
"Not in the case of an ordinary family, Maria. But it is not an
ordinary family, Mr. Bindon's." There was a pause. The lady walked
excitedly up and down the room. The gentleman sat back in an
arm-chair, his hands in his trouser pockets, his legs stretched out in
front of him. "You will have to provide them with bed and with board,
Maria, till we have turned the matter over in our minds, or till we
have heard further from Mr. Bindon."
They had to.
They provided the young ladies with bed and board.
"As," remarked Mr. Harland, when the days went by, and there still
came no further instructions from America, "these young ladies bid
fair to remain with us an indefinite length of time, I think, in order
to do something which will entitle me to the proper fees, I will lay
on something in the shape of a daily governess. They shall receive
their education in the parlour. If Mr. Bindon could only see his way
to making a few more errors in the 'shipment' line I might, on my
part, see my way to running a school for young ladies in connection
with my establishment for boys."
The eight Misses Dixon arrived on a Tuesday. Nothing--that is, nothing
unusual--happened during the whole of the ensuing week. But on the
Wednesday week, eight days after their arrival, an incident, slightly
out of the common way, did vary the monotony. A fly drove up to
Mulberry House, and in it, on the back seat, sat a solitary boy. Mr.
Harland happened to be leaving the house just as the fly drove up. He
eyed the boy, the boy eyed him. The flyman touched his hat.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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