oh wirrah! wirrah! wirrah! its a sad and loansome warld and its a trecherus snake is minnie.
yesterday me hart was full of feers. its menny an effort i made to relave mesilf to miss claire, but for pity for the puir yung creachure me tung refused to spake.
last nite was a nite of shocks. mr. john cum down to the bastemint and taks possisshun after dinner of me privat dining-rume. the widder do be giving him a barskit full of seeds, frish picked from her gardin, and he’s after wanting he ses to sort thim out and mark the reyspictiv packages so he may know them nixt spring whin hes going to have a fine gardin.
miss claire cum into me kitchin, wid her bloo eyes swimming wid teers.
“what will we do, delia?” ses she, “john is in the dining-room to-nite, and i cant get him out.”
“now don’t you be after wurriting darlint” ses i, “shure mr. harry is wilcam to me kitchin.”
“but john may walk in upon us” ses she despritly.
“he’d better not” ses i, and wid that i wint to the dure and called out to mr. john:
“will ye be good enuff to kape your disthance from me kitchin to-nite, as its private company i’m expicting.”
“very well delia” ses he perlitely.
i wint outside to the bastemint dure, and wated in person for mr. harry. when he arrived, i tauld him the state of things, and he slipped into me kitchen. miss claire were sitting on me table, her little feet swinging in the air.
“good avening” ses she, trying to smile and look chareful “ye’ll obsarve” ses she “the extrames to which we are driven. john holds the fort to-nite.”
mr. harry is haulding her hands as she spakes, and watching her face like he wad ate her up.
“had i better go thin?” ses he.
“o, if you want to” ses she, slipping down from the table, and turning away from him a bit.
“want to!” ses he, “you don’t meen that!”
“no” ses she, saftly, “i—i don’t.”
i thot the yung lad wud grab her, but joost thin he seen me and kept still.
miss claire sayses hauld of a frying pan.
“never mind” ses she “we’ll enjoy oursilves aven in the kitchen? you’ve never tasted me famiss fudge, have you mr. dudley?”
“no” ses he, looking at her pretty arms, as she rolled back the sleeves from thim.
“well” ses she “i larned to make it in me vassa days. get me an aprun, delia” ses she.
i brot her wan of her own—a little red gingum thin wid frills and pockits. she let him button it behind her, and he tuk so long she broke away larfing and blooshing.
“now” ses she “you may help me. i want cream, sugar, butter and chocklett. a bit of vernilla too” ses she.
they set to work, busy and happy as childrun making mud pies. by and by the stuff was cooked, and she set him to mixing it, “and mix it stiff” ses she, “while i greese the pans.”
this dun, she took a spoon and scooping out a bit she hild it to his lips. he, not looking at the fudge, but wid his eyes fixed on her, opened his mouth and took in the spoon. then he guv a yell and down drapped the spoon.
“oh!” ses she, turning pail, “wuz it hot? harry!” ses she, “i burned you!”
“you call me harry!” ses he, and saysed hauld of her by the arms. i was watching wid all me eyes, whin i herd the dure squake a bit. befure i cud move tords it miss claire roon oop aginst it and hild it closed wid her little hands.
“the china closet, delia!” she wispered, and i shuvved mr. harry into the closet and banged the dure tite. whin we let in mr. john he looked about him.
“whats the matter?” ses he, “why did you hauld me out?”
“o” ses miss claire, gayly, “its a game delia and i are playing.”
he frowned and ses cauldly.
“ye cud find bitter implyment i fancy than playing in the kitchen wid delia. your not a child claire” ses he.
shes about to spake in ansser whin the frunt dure bell run, and i saized me aprun and wint to ansser it, laving the yung peeple alone. as i reeched the upper flure, i seen mr. wolley turning on the lites in the hall. then he opened the dure. a little auld gintleman wid wiskers on his cheeks and spats on his feet stud there.
“good avening” ses he, “mr. wolley, i belave?”
i cud tell by mr. wolley’s back that his face was purple. he harf closed the dure, and thin agin opened it.
“what is it you want?” ses he roodely.
“who is it father?” ses mr. james, comeing into the hall, then he too seen the little gintleman. the latter is spaking wid horchure and dignity.
“i cum, sor” ses he, “to—er—ask—you sir, to requist me sun to lave your house.”
“i don’t oonderstand you” ses mr. wolley cauldly.
“i resaved” ses the auld gintleman, stepping into the hall, “a nonnymuss epissle this marning. ordinary i ignoar sich things, but me suspishuns had alreddy been aroused. i tuk it upon mesilf to play the detictive to-nite. when me sun left the house i followed him here. i saw him inter ye’re place be way of the—er—bastemint” ses he hortily. “i wayted around a bit and thin desided to spake to you personally. you—er—probably appreeshiate me position” ses he. “i of coorse, shall absolutely refuse to reckynise anny foolish shcrape of the yungster—he’s a mere boy” he adds loftily.
“sir” ses mr. wolley, “if yure yung ass of a sun—i yuse the word advisedly” ses he “has been making a fool of himsilf over a girl in me imploy, i am not intrusted in the affare. will you be good enuff to go to the back dure.”
wid that he’s about to open the dure, when he seen me standing there.
“delia!” ses he, “heres your yung man’s father. just tak him into the kitchen.”
old mr. dudley seemed aboot to boorst, but befure he cud spake, mr. james tuk him by the arm and lid him gintly but firmly to the kitchen dure. as i was about to follow mr. wolley saised hauld of me slave.
“delia!” ses he, wispering excitedly, “is claire doon stares?”
“‘go away john! go away!’ ses she, ‘you shan’t open the dure.’”
“n-no—yes—indade i don’t know sir” ses i and i picked up me aprun and begun to cry into it.
we disinded to me kitchin—mr. wolley, mr. james and auld mr. dudley, who shtumbled on the dark steps and sneezed whin he got to the bottom. in the kitchin we cum upon a straynge site. miss claire was standing wid her back aginst me china closet; her eyes were big and wild looking, and she kept talking to mr. john who stud befure her.
“go away, john! go away!” ses she. “you shan’t open the dure! you shan’t! you shan’t!” ses she. then she seen us all and she guv a little cry.
“delia! o delia!” ses she, “don’t let him. he—he soospicts sumthing,” ses she, and then she poot her hed down on me shoulder and burst into teers.
i herd mr. harry moving in the closet, and i belave the yung chap must have herd miss claire weeping, for joost as she boorst into teers, he forced open the dure. for a moment he stud blinking, and thin he seen us all. he guv a look first at his father and as the auld gintleman wint tord him he drew himsilf up stiff and faced him.
“well sir!” ses the auld fellow, choking wid rage, “so this is whare ye’ve been spinding your avenings—in the kitchen of these contemtyble pinny-a-liners.”
“one moment” ses the lad, and suddintly he turned to miss claire, and poot an arm about her, but befure he cud draw her to him, mr. james had dashed forward.
“dam you!” ses he, “tak your hands aff me sister!” wid that he rinched thim apart.
yung dudley toorned very pail, but he smiled quarely, as he moved tord the dure.
“claire!” ses he, spaking clear over the heds of ivery wan, “raymimber darlint that we love aich other. all will cum rite yet deerest” ses he.
thin ignoaring and pooshing past his little angry father he made his way to the bastemint dure and out.
mr. dudley stud a minit looking aboot him his thin lips poorsed ap in a snarling shmile. he adrissed himself to mr. wolley, but his eyes was on miss claire.
“me sun” ses he “is yung and rash. this is not the first time i have been obleeged to cum in person to extrycate him from sich a scrape. forchunatly” ses he “we expict him to make an airly marruge. i was talking to his finansay’s father to-day and its aboot desided that the yung fokes will both be sint abrord nixt week. good avening sir” ses he “you will not be thrubbled again” ses he. thin, still smiling in that nasty insoolting way of his, he bowed and wint.
