"I'm in service with Mr Rogers," said Fancy, who as if in a moment had
recovered her composure. "If you want to know why, sir, and won't chat
about it, I don't mind tellin' you."
"You make me curious, little maid: that I'll own."
"'Tis simple enough, too," said she. "He's had a stroke, an' he's goin
to hell."
"Eh? . . . I don't see--"
"He's goin' to hell," she repeated with a nod as over a matter that
admitted no dispute.
"Well, but dang it all!" protested Captain Cai after a pause,
"we'll allow as he's goin' there, for the sake of argyment. Is that why
you're tendin' on him so careful?"
"You mustn't think," answered the child, "that I'm doin' it out o' pity
altogether. There's something terrible fascinatin' about a man in that
position."
CHAPTER IV.
VOICES IN THE TWILIGHT.
"I don't see anything immodest in it," said Mrs Bosenna looking up.
She was on her knees and had just finished pressing the earth about the
roots of a small rose-bush. "The house is mine, and naturally I am
curious to know something about my tenant."
Dinah, her middle-aged maid, who had been holding the bush upright and
steady, answered this challenge with a short sniff. "He don't seem over
curious, for his part, about _you_." She, too, glanced upward and
toward the house, the upper storey alone of which, from where they
stood, was visible above the spikes of a green palisade. A roadway
divided the house from the garden, which descended to the harbour-cliff
in a series of tiny terraces. "They've been pokin' around indoors this
hour and more."
"You don't suppose he caught sight of us?"
"Maybe not; but Tabb's child did. That girl 've a-got eyes like
niddles. If he don't come down to pay his respects, you may bet 'tis
because he don't want to." Dinah, being vexed, spoke viciously.
Her speech implied that her mistress's conduct had been not only
indelicate but clumsy.
"You are a horrid woman," Mrs Bosenna accused her; "and I can't think
what put such nasty-minded thoughts into your head."
"No more can I, unless you suggested 'em," Dinah retorted.
"You were willing enough to come, when--when--"
"When you proposed it," Dinah relentlessly concluded the sentence.
"Of course. Why not?"
"And you were excited enough--you can't deny it"--her mistress insisted,
"when you brought the news this morning, that his ship had arrived.
But now, and only because you happen to be put out--"
"Who said I was put out?"
"As if I couldn't tell by your tone! Now, just because you happen to be
put out, I'm indelicate all of a sudden."
"I never said so," Dinah protested sullenly.
"_Said_ so?" Mrs Bosenna, rising, faced her with withering scorn.
"I hope you've a better sense of your position than to _say_ such a
thing. Oh, you content yourself with hinting! . . . But who owns this
house and garden, I should like to know?"
Dinah, though remorseful, showed fight yet. "Then why couldn' ye take
the bull by the horns an' march in by the front door?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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