The Complete Works of James Whitcomb Riley — Volume 10Riley, James Whitcomb
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The Complete Works of James Whitcomb Riley — Volume 10
Riley, James Whitcomb
American essays; American poetry; Short stories, American
"Thank you--thank you!" said John, completely
embarrassed. "Yes, indeed!--ha, ha. Oh, yes--
yes--really, we must be quite old friends, I assure
you, Mrs.--Mrs.--"
"Mrs. Miller," smilingly prompted the little
woman.
"Yes, ah, yes,--Mrs. Miller. Lovely morning,
Mrs. Miller," said John, edging past her and backing
toward his room.
But as Mrs. Miller was laughing outright, for
some mysterious reason, and gave no affirmation
in response to his proposition as to the quality of
the weather, John, utterly abashed and nonplused,
darted into his room and closed the door, "Deucedly
extraordinary woman!" he thought; "wonder
what's her idea!"
He remained locked in his room till the dinner-
hour; and, when he promptly emerged for that occasion,
there was a very noticeable improvement in
his personal appearance, in point of dress, at least,
though there still lingered about his smoothly-
shaven features a certain haggard, care-worn,
anxious look that would not out.
Next his own at the table he found a chair tilted
forward, as though in reservation for some honored
guest. What did it mean? Oh, he remembered
now. Told the boy to tell his mother he would have
a friend to dine with him. Bert--and, blast the fellow!--
was, doubtless, dining then with a far preferable
companion--his wife--in a palace-car on the
P., C. & St. L., a hundred miles away. The thought
was maddening. Of course, now, the landlady
would have material for a new assault. And how
could he avert it? A despairing film blurred his
sight for the moment--then the eyes flashed daringly.
"I will meet it like a man!" he said, mentally--
"yea, like a State's Attorney,--I will invite
it! Let her do her worst!"
He called a servant, giving some message in an
undertone.
"Yes, sir," said the agreeable servant, "I'll go
right away, sir," and left the room.
Five minutes elapsed, and then a voice at his
shoulder startled him:
"Did you send for me, Mr. McKinney? What
is it I can do?"
"You are very kind, Mrs.--Mrs.--"
"Mrs. Miller," said the lady, with a smile that he
remembered.
"Now, please spare me even the mildest of
rebukes. I deserve your censure, but I can't stand it
--I can't positively!" and there was a pleading
look in John's lifted eyes that changed the little
woman's smile to an expression of real solicitude.
"I have sent for you," continued John, "to ask of
you three great favors. Please be seated while I
enumerate them. First--I want you to forgive and
forget that ill-natured, uncalled-for grumbling of
mine this morning when you awakened me."
"Why, certainly," said the landlady, again smiling,
though quite seriously.
"I thank you," said John with dignity. "And,
second," he continued--"I want your assurance that
my extreme confusion and awkwardness on the occasion
of our meeting later were rightly interpreted."
"Certainly--certainly," said the landlady with the
kindliest sympathy.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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