All Story Magazine, December 1913 — page 98: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

808 THE “You can’t kid me. You wuz wait- in’ down-stairs for Miss Mac to give you the woid that it wuz all right—’s if it'd make any diff’rence what I said.” She laughed mockingly. “ Jus’ hang up your kelly an’ stick roun’ ’s long as you like. She’s runnin’ this dump.” It was borne upon me that “ Miss Mac” was Alice, though what her re- lationship to Campbell was puzzled me. Della, apparently, did not enter- tain high regard for her. Della crept after me into the living- room. She appeared to hesitate about it and I felt rather than heard her fol- low. Passing the Gobbler’s bedroom I saw that the nurse had been reengaged, evidently overruling Della’s ideas of economy, and J supposed that was an- other instance of Alice's “ bossism,” though how she had ever become con- nected with the affair I could only dimly conjecture. As Della trailed me into the parlor, which was sandwiched between the dining-room and another offshoot in- tended for music or a bed, a glance at her sulky face told me that there was something on her mind of which she wanted to be rid. “You're one of Mac's real swell pals, ain't you?’”’ she demanded sul- lenly. “IT suppose so.” What'd he sen’ you up here for?”’ “T am not going to remain long. Just till this evening.” She looked me over very carefully. “\What did Miss Mac tell you about the kid?” “Why, nothing.” “Don’t try to make a monkey outa me! An’ if you’ve come up here to get a line on how I treats the noice to give Mac an earful I'll slam you one. Get me?” Her shoulders drooped to an ugly slouch in direct contrast to her chic pearl-gray dress. The curl of her up- per lip made her almost brutal. I made no comment. Evidently she ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. had acquired an entirely wrong con- ception of the reason for my being there, and I did not suppose I could disillusion her. Suddenly she swung flung this at me: “You think I ain’t in Mac’s class, don’ you? I’m tough, an’ fresh, an’ ign’rant. Oh, l1’m wise. I know what I am an’ what you an’ Miss Mac thinks, an’ mebbe I ain't got no right to hold him to nuthin’. But I’m gon- na jus’ the same.” A pause, as she caught her breath sharply. ‘ She ain’ gonna get him!” There was an awkward silence. Apparently I had dropped in at a moment when Della’s mind ached for relief from the struggle to be some- thing she knew very well she was not, and she seemed to imagine that I knew a great deal more about it than I did. One thing was certain, “ Miss Mac” was not supposed to be Camp- bell’s “sister,” so I presumed she might be his ‘ cousin.” “Don't you think you are allowing your antipathy to Miss — er — Miss Mac to carry you too far?” Instantly Della’s slouch became more pronounced, and, judging by the sudden flashing of her eyes, I wished I had not spoken. She studied me in- tently for fully a minute. “You got a noive,” she declared finally in a very low voice. ‘‘ What you buttin’ in for?” “T’m not. I merely want you .to think—”’ “Think! Ain’t I been thinkin’ for mont’s and mont’s? Ain't [I had to sit by feelin’ like dirt under her shoes, lis‘nin’ to her Fif’ Avenoo chatter, knowin’ he wuz daffy abou’ it, an’ get- tin’ Hail Columbia frm him cos I couln’ get on to being a lady? W’en he foist came nosin’ roun’ the kitchen I thought he wuz a god or somethin’, an’ wen he saved Beans from the chair—’”’ “The chair! You mean—’” “Sure. Beans didn’ have nuthin’ to doin’ with it, but they’d ha’ put him round and comicloooks.com