The reigning belle : $b A society novelStephens, Ann S. (Ann Sophia)
General
The reigning belle : $b A society novel
Stephens, Ann S. (Ann Sophia)
New York (N.Y.) -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
“Mrs. Smith, the boss wants to know if you’ve took any money from out of
the drawer. He wants to make up a bill.”
“What, me! Goodness gracious! What do I want of money, with Jerusha
Maria crying her eyes out, and I trying my best to set her teeth of an
edge. Tell Smith not to make a fool of himself, but search his own
pockets. Dear me! will that man never have no consideration!”
“Then you haven’t got the money?” said Jared, looking over Mrs. Smith’s
head, as if he were questioning the wall.
“Money! Not a cent! Don’t bother me!” cried the dame flinging down the
spoon, and searching the child’s mouth with her motherly finger. “What
do I know about the store, with this little angel screaming like mad
with the ache of her precious gums! There, there! mother knows they buse
her darling! Oh, goodness! Kate Gorman, come here. I’m sure there’s one
coming through just under my finger; look, now.”
Kate set down a saucer she was wiping, dried her hands hastily on the
dish towel, and came forward beaming with expectation.
“Just turn her purty face to the light,” she cried, sinking on her two
knees before the child, and peering into the mouth in which sobs and
screams were half smothered. By gorry! and so it is, true enough! like
the pint of a needle agin yer finger. There, now, the swate crathur will
have some peace an’ quietness. “Boyce, go down an’ tell the master that
it has come, and not stand gauking there.”
Boyce, who had been in no haste to go down, closed the door softly, and
stood ruminating on the outside. Directly his face brightened with some
new-born thought, and he entered the store with his usual manner.
“Mrs. Smith says she hasn’t took a cent from the draw, boss.”
“Hasn’t taken a cent from the drawer!” exclaimed Smith, excitedly. “Then
where the thunder has that ten-dollar bill gone! I left three in that
identical drawer not more en half an hour ago, and now only two is left.
Who has been back of the counter since I went out?”
“Not a soul but me and Mrs. Smith’s new boy, Jim.”
Smith’s countenance fell. He went to the drawer again, drew it
completely out from under the counter, turned it bottom up, with a bang,
and once more searched every fragment of paper with care.
Then he remembered the countryman, who was waiting patiently, and
assorting out some small bills, paid him in moody silence.
Boyce was very busy all this time re-arranging boxes, and dusting the
counter; but his furtive eyes now and then turned upon Smith with the
look of a hound that fears chastisement, and his work was done in a
quick, nervous fashion, quite unusual to him.
Meantime, little Jim came in with an empty basket on his arm, bright and
radiant as a June morning. Smith lifted his eyes from the desk where he
stood, and when he saw that cheerful, honest face, his own brightened.
He had intended to question the boy, but thought of his wife, and had
not the heart to do it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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