Conduct of life -- Fiction; Frame stories; Short stories
Once, in the middle of a heated argument on the suffrage, Miss Mellor
paused to look longingly at a curly-headed baby toddling across the
path; and beside the duck-pond in Regent's Park she invariably lost the
thread of her argument in watching the crowds of merry children feeding
their pets. Norah reflected that had Miss Mellor been a happy wife and
mother she might not have troubled her head about a vote. All the same,
the result of education on the woman's question had been to convince
Norah that the demand for "rights" had been founded on some very
definite wrongs. After the long walk the two ladies would return to tea
in the flat, where the companion consumed the wafer-like bread and
butter and dainty cakes with Philistine enjoyment, and even Miss Mellor
herself descended from her high horse, and inquired curiously:
"Where do you get your hats?"
Of her two employers Norah had distinct preference for the old lady,
Mrs Baker. She was of a more lovable nature than the voluble Miss
Mellor, and, moreover, as she herself had announced--she had a nephew!
The nephew was a handsome, well-set-up man of thirty, who possessed
considerable culture and refinement, and a most ingratiating kindliness
of demeanour towards his homely old aunt.
The first Sunday after Norah entered upon her duties, young Mr Baker
did not call at Berrington Square; on the second Sunday he came to
midday dinner; on the third, he met the two ladies at the church door
after morning service, and remained with them for the whole of the
afternoon; on the fourth, he was already seated in the pew when they
entered the church, and he persisted in these good habits until it
became a matter of course that he should spend the whole day in
Berrington Square, as Norah herself had done from the beginning of her
engagement. In the afternoon Mrs Baker would invariably make the
hospitable suggestion that "if John liked" he could descend to a chill,
fireless room in the basement to indulge in an after-dinner weed, but
John refused to move until Miss Boyce had given her repetition of the
morning's service. He said that he was afraid she might forget an
important point, in which case he should be at hand to jog her memory.
"John is so thoughtful!" said his aunt proudly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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