The Three Miss Kings: An Australian StoryCambridge, Ada
History
The Three Miss Kings: An Australian Story
Cambridge, Ada
Australia -- History -- 1788-1900 -- Fiction; Sisters -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
Mrs. M'Intyre's maid came out to take the parcels, and the landlady
herself appeared on the doorstep to welcome the new-comers. They
whispered to themselves hurriedly, "Oh, she has a nice face!"--and then
Patty and Elizabeth addressed themselves to the responsible business of
settling with the cabman.
"How much have we to pay you?" asked Patty with dignity.
"Twelve shillings, please, miss," the man gaily replied.
Elizabeth looked at her energetic sister, who had boasted that they
were quite sharp enough to know when they were being cheated. Upon
which Patty, with her feathers up, appealed to the landlady. Mrs.
M'Intyre said the proper sum due to him was just half what he had
asked. The cabman said that was for one passenger, and not for three.
Mrs. M'Intyre then represented that eighteen-pence apiece was as much
as he could claim for the remaining two, that the luggage was a mere
nothing, and that if he didn't mind what he was about, &c. So the sum
was reduced to nine shillings, which Elizabeth paid, looking very grave
over it, for it was still far beyond what she had reckoned on.
Then they went into the house--the middle house of a smart little
terrace, with a few ragged fern trees in the front garden--and Mrs.
M'Intyre took them up to their rooms, and showed them drawers and
cupboards, in a motherly and hospitable manner.
"This is the large bedroom, with the two beds, and the small one opens
off it; so that you will all be close together," said she, displaying
the neat chambers, one of which was properly but a dressing-closet;
and our girls, who knew no luxury but absolute cleanliness, took note
of the whiteness of the floors and bedclothes, and were more than
satisfied. "And this is your sitting-room," she proceeded, leading the
way to an adjoining apartment pleasantly lighted by a French window,
which opened upon a stone (or, rather, what looked like a stone)
balcony. It had a little "suite" in green rep like Mrs. Hawkins's, and
Mrs. Dunn's ideal cedar-wood chiffonnier; it had also a comfortable
solid table with a crimson cloth, and a print of the ubiquitous Cenci
over the mantelpiece. The carpet was a bed of blooming roses and
lilies, the effect of which was much improved by the crumb cloth that
was nailed all over it. It was a tiny room, but it had a cosy look, and
the new lodgers agreed at once that it was all that could be desired.
"And I hope you will be comfortable," concluded the amiable landlady,
"and let me know whenever you want anything. There's a bathroom down
that passage, and this is your bell, and those drawers have got keys,
you see, and lunch will be ready in half-an-hour. The dining-room is
the first door at the bottom of the stairs, and--phew! that tobacco
smoke hangs about the place still, in spite of all my cleaning and
airing. I never allow smoking in the house, Miss King--not in the
general way; but a man who has to be up o' nights writing for the
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account