Part 3 (1/2)
”We talked some.”
”Talked? Good gracious!”
”Yes, talked, Sarah--really talked.”
”Why, Edith!”
”Now, Sarah, be sensible, and listen. He was so polite, so courteous--”
”They're all that way,” interrupted Sarah, a man hater.
”--but him,” returned Edith, not meaning it in the same sense that Sarah did. ”I was going to say, Sarah, that I could not resist his good face.”
”Who is he?” asked Sarah, coldly.
”John Winthrope!”
”What does he do?”
”Works in my father's office!”
”Lordy!” exploded Sarah at this revelation, for really Sarah was the sn.o.b instead of Edith. ”And you stopped to talk with him in the street?”
”Sarah, you are mean--real mean--cruel, exasperating. Sarah, I will have nothing more to do with you, if you talk that way any more! I will get a new maid, or have none at all--that I will, Sarah! Now, take your choice!”
This from Edith, who was usually so calm, so even tempered, and so reasonable in all matters. But Sarah had aroused her dormant nature by such a reference to cla.s.s distinction, that Edith, in her liberal way of looking at the world in general, could not reconcile Sarah's views with justice, if each human being concerned was equally endowed morally, physically and mentally.
”I will say no more, Edith,” humbly surrendered the prudent Sarah.
Dinner was announced, and Edith descended to the brilliancy of the great dining room, where her parents were awaiting her arrival to be seated with them. Edith was charming in her changed habiliment. Could John but see her now! But John had no pa.s.sword as yet to this rich home.
”Now, Edith, to the story,” said Mrs. Jarney, after they had seated themselves around the sumptuously provided table.
”What is that?” asked Mr. Jarney, looking at his wife, and for the first time getting an inkling of Edith's experiences, then turning his eyes questioningly upon Edith.
”Nothing serious, papa,” said Edith, noting that he was surprised over the manner in which her mother had put the question.
”Well, then, dear Edith, go on,” said her father, in his usually kind tone.
”Promise, papa, that you will not be hard on me?” pressed Edith.
”As long as you have done no wrong, Edith, I promise,” he replied.
Then Edith related her tale, down to the minutest detail, even as to how it affected her afterwards--except that she kept the impression that it left upon her heart as her own inviolable secret.
”Edith,” said her father, after she had finished, and after he had pondered a few moments over the possible effect on the young man in the office, and after smiling and laughing heartily, ”Edith, it certainly is a peculiar coincidence. I am glad to know the party turned out to be our newest addition to the office force, and not a ruffian.”
This ended the general conversation about John Winthrope. None of them considered the event in any other light than if she had had a similar encounter with the ash-man--except Edith. But still they did not cease referring to the matter occasionally for some time, for after all they could not help but marvel on it.