The City of Masks Part 24

Promptly at seven she entered the library. To her dismay, Mrs.

Smith-Parvis was not alone. Her husband was there, and also Stuyvesant. If her life had depended on it, she could not have conquered the impulse to favour the latter's nose with a rather penetrating stare. A slight thrill of satisfaction shot through her.

It _did_ seem to be a trifle red and enlarged.

Mr. Smith-Parvis, senior, was nervous. Otherwise he would not have risen from his comfortable chair.

"Good evening, Miss Emsdale," he said, in a palliative tone. "Have this chair. Ahem!" Catching a look from his wife, he sat down again, and laughed quite loudly and mirthlessly, no doubt actuated by a desire to put the governess at her ease,--an effort that left him rather flat and wholly non-essential, it may be said.

His wife lifted her lorgnon. She seemed a bit surprised and nonplussed on beholding Miss Emsdale.

"Oh, I remember. It is you, of course."

Miss Emsdale had the effrontery to smile. "Yes, Mrs. Smith-Parvis."

Stuyvesant felt of his nose. He did it without thinking, and instantly muttered something under his breath.

"We owe you, according to my calculations, fifty-five dollars and eighty-two cents," said Mrs. Smith-Parvis, abruptly consulting a tablet.

"Seventeen days in this month. Will you be good enough to go over it for yourself? I do not wish to take advantage of you."

"I sha'n't be exacting," said Miss Emsdale, a wave of red rus.h.i.+ng to her brow. "I am content to accept your--"

"Be good enough to figure it up, Miss Emsdale," insisted the other coldly. "We must have no future recriminations. Thirty-one days in this month. Thirty-one into one hundred goes how many times?"

"I beg pardon," said the girl, puzzled. "Thirty-one into one hundred?"

"Can't you do sums? It's perfectly simple. Any school child could do it in a--in a jiffy."

"Quite simple," murmured her husband. "I worked it out for Mrs.

Smith-Parvis in no time at all. Three dollars and twenty-two and a half cents a day. Perfectly easy, if you--"

"I am sure it is quite satisfactory," said Miss Emsdale coldly.

"Very well. Here is a check for the amount," said Mrs. Smith-Parvis, laying the slip of paper on the end of the library table. "And now, Miss Emsdale, I feel constrained to tell you how gravely disappointed I am in you. For half-a-year I have laboured under the delusion that you were a lady, and qualified to have charge of two young and innocent--"

"Oh, Lord," groaned Stuyvesant, fidgeting in his chair.

"--young and innocent girls. I find, however, that you haven't the first instincts of a lady. I daresay it is too much to expect." She sighed profoundly. "I know something about the lower cla.s.ses in London, having been at one time interested in settlement work there in connection with Lady Bannistell's committee, and I am aware that too much should not be expected of them. That is to say, too much in the way of--er--delicacy.

Still, I thought you might prove to be an exception. I have learned my lesson. I shall in the future engage only German governesses. From time to time I have observed little things in you that disquieted me, but I overlooked them because you appeared to be earnestly striving to overcome the handicap placed upon you at birth. For example, I have found cigarette stubs in your room when I--"

"Oh, I say, mother," broke in Stuyvesant; "cut it out."

"My dear!"

"You'd smoke 'em yourself if father didn't put up such a roar about it.

Lot of guff about your grandmothers turning over in their graves. I don't see anything wrong in a woman smoking cigarettes. Besides, you may be accusing Miss Emsdale unjustly. What proof have you that the stubs were hers?"

"I distinctly said that I found them in her room," said Mrs.

Smith-Parvis icily. "I don't know how they got there."

"Circ.u.mstantial evidence," retorted Stuyvie, an evil twist at one corner of his mouth. "Doesn't prove that she smoked 'em, does it?" He met Miss Emsdale's burning gaze for an instant, and then looked away. "Might have been the housekeeper. She smokes."

"It was not the housekeeper," said Jane quietly. "I smoke."

"We are digressing," said Mrs. Smith-Parvis sternly. "There are other instances of your lack of refinement, Miss Emsdale, but I shall not recite them. Suffice to say, I deeply deplore the fact that my children have been subject to contamination for so long. I am afraid they have acquired--"

Jane had drawn herself up haughtily. She interrupted her employer.

"Be good enough, Mrs. Smith-Parvis, to come to the point," she said.

"Have you nothing more serious to charge me with than smoking? Out with it! Let's have the worst."

"How dare you speak to me in that--My goodness!" She half started up from her chair. "What _have_ you been up to? Drinking? Or some low affair with the butler? Good heavens, have I been harbouring a--"

"Don't get so excited, momsey," broke in Stuyvesant, trying to transmit a message of encouragement to Miss Emsdale by means of sundry winks and frowns and cautious head-shakings. "Keep your hair on."

"My--my hair?" gasped his mother.

Mr. Smith-Parvis got up. "Stuyvesant, you'd better retire," he said, noisily. "Remember, sir, that you are speaking to your mother. It came out at the time of her illness,--when we were so near to losing her,--and you--"

"Keep still, Philander," snapped Mrs. Smith-Parvis, very red in the face. "It came in again, thicker than before," she could not help explaining. "And don't be absurd, Stuyvesant. This is my affair. Please do not interfere again. I--What was I saying?"

"Something about drinking and the butler, Mrs. Smith-Parvis," said Jane, drily. It was evident that Stuyvesant had not carried tales to his mother. She would not have to defend herself against a threatened charge. Her sense of humour was at once restored.

"Naturally I cannot descend to the discussion of anything so perfectly vile. Your conduct this afternoon is sufficient--ah,--sufficient unto the day. I am forced to dismiss you without a reference. Furthermore, I consider it my duty to protect other women as unsuspecting as I have been. You are in no way qualified to have charge of young and well-bred girls. No apology is desired," she hastily declared, observing symptoms of protest in the face of the delinquent; "so please restrain yourself.

I do not care to hear a single word of apology, or any appeal to be retained. You may go now, my girl. Spare us the tears. I am not turning you out into the streets tonight. You may remain until tomorrow morning."

"I am going tonight," said Jane, quite white,--with suppressed anger.

"It isn't necessary," said the other, loftily.

"Where are you going?" inquired Mr. Smith-Parvis, senior, fumbling with his nose-gla.s.ses. "Have you any friends in the city?"

Miss Emsdale ignored the question. She picked up the check and folded it carefully.

"I should like to say good-bye to the--to Eudora and Lucille," she said, with an effort.

"That is out of the question," said Mrs. Smith-Parvis.

Jane deliberately turned her back upon Mrs. Smith-Parvis and moved toward the door. It was an eloquent back. Mrs. Smith-Parvis considered it positively insulting.

"Stop!" she cried out. "Is that the way to leave a room, Miss Emsdale?

Please remember who and what you are. I can not permit a servant to be insolent to me."

"Oh, come now, Angela, dear," began Mr. Smith-Parvis, uncomfortably.

"Seems to me she walks properly enough. What's the matter with her--There, she's gone! I can't see what--"

"You would think the hussy imagines herself to be the Queen of England,"

sputtered Mrs. Smith-Parvis angrily. "I've never seen such airs."

The object of her derision mounted the stairs and entered her bed-chamber on the fourth floor. Her steamer-trunk and her bags were nowhere in sight. A wry little smile trembled on her lips.