Domestic fiction; Sisters -- Fiction; Women -- England -- Fiction
"And I suppose you are in charge here?"
"No," she answered. "I just happened to have run down here for these
scissors. That's all."
"I often see your sister," said he. "'Often' do I say?--that is,
generally, when I come; but never you."
"I'm never in the shop," she said. "It's just an accident to-day."
"Oh! So you leave the shop to your sister?"
"Yes." She said nothing of her teaching.
Then there was a silence. Sophia was very thankful to be hidden from
the curiosity of the shop. The shop could see nothing of her, and only
the back of the young man; and the conversation had been conducted in
low voices. She tapped her foot, stared at the worn, polished surface
of the counter, with the brass yard-measure nailed along its edge, and
then she uneasily turned her gaze to the left and seemed to be
examining the backs of the black bonnets which were perched on high
stands in the great window. Then her eyes caught his for an important
moment.
"Yes," she breathed. Somebody had to say something. If the shop missed
the murmur of their voices the shop would wonder what had happened to
them.
Mr. Scales looked at his watch. '"I dare say if I come in again about
two--" he began.
"Oh yes, they're SURE to be in then," she burst out before he could
finish his sentence.
He left abruptly, queerly, without shaking hands (but then it would
have been difficult--she argued--for him to have put his arm over the
boxes), and without expressing the hope of seeing her again. She peeped
through the black bonnets, and saw the porter put the leather strap
over his shoulders, raise the rear of the barrow, and trundle off; but
she did not see Mr. Scales. She was drunk; thoughts were tumbling about
in her brain like cargo loose in a rolling ship. Her entire conception
of herself was being altered; her attitude towards life was being
altered. The thought which knocked hardest against its fellows was,
"Only in these moments have I begun to live!"
And as she flitted upstairs to resume watch over her father she sought
to devise an innocent-looking method by which she might see Mr. Scales
when he next called. And she speculated as to what his name was.
III
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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