The Tryst (Musaicum Romance Classics). Grace Livingston Hill
and tried to smile. Her singing teacher had once told her that that helped to control stage fright. Well, this surely was a good time to put it to a test. So she stared determinedly at an ugly jade idol on a pedestal and smiled her sweetest smile, albeit there was a bit of a tremble to it at the comers. Then she set her brains to work, just as she used to do in class when she knew a hard question was coming to her to answer; so that when the maid finally came back and summoned her into the august presence of the lady she was quite her reliant little self again and ready with what she had to say.
The lady must have been impressed with her presence, for she put by the phone to which she had been giving an annoyed attention when Patty entered, and looked at her surprisedly, a puzzled enquiry growing in her eyes. However, Patty gave her no time to voice her question. She came straight to the point:
“I have come to ask if there is any position in your household that I could fill? I belong to a good family who live at a distance from New York; I’ve had a good education, and circumstances have suddenly thrown me on my own resources. I am willing to do almost anything, and if I don't know how I can learn.”
She lifted her sunny eyes to the cold world-weary ones before her, and smiled a confiding bit of a smile that frankly put the whole matter in the lady's hands.
"Did you come from the Agency?" asked Mrs. Horliss-Cole. "I don't quite understand." Then to the telephone: “Yes, yes. Central, I'm waiting, of course."
“No, I didn't come from the Agency," answered Patty coolly. "I was passing as they called you in and heard the servant say that there had been an accident and some one had failed you. I don't understand what kind of a person it is that you need, and maybe I won't do, but I need to get something dreadfully right away, and I thought I'd try."
Mrs. Cole put up her lorgnette and eyed Patricia over thoroughly:
“How ex-troid'nry!" she said icily. "And haven't you any references?"
“References!" Patty's face grew suddenly blank with disappointment. “Of course! I forgot you would need them. No, I suppose I haven't any. You see, I've never supported myself before, and I didn't realize I would need them."
She grew thoughtful.
"Of course there are people here in New York I could get to say I was all right, but I don't think it would be wise. It might hurt my family very much if it was known that I was doing this. I guess then I will have to try and find something else ——" She sighed and turned toward the door just as a voice from the telephone receiver broke in: "No, Mrs. Horliss-Cole, I'm afraid I can't send you anybody before to-morrow. I've been talking with that woman and she says she couldn't arrange to leave New York on account of an invalid child that she has to get into a home first. I'm sorry ——!”
Patty had turned and was walking slowly into the hall when Mrs. Horliss-Cole snapped out: “Tell her to wait!” and went on talking on the telephone.
The maid rushed out and brought her back as Mrs. Cole hung up the receiver. As Patty returned she noticed for the first time another girl, about her own age, dressed in a dark, handsome, tailored suit and hat, with a big skin of brown fox thrown carelessly across her shoulders. She was sitting in the window-seat with the air of waiting to speak to her mother before going out, and her dark eyes fixed themselves on Patricia's face with a stare that was half-insolent in its open curiosity.
"How soon could you come if I decided to take you?” asked the lady in a fretful tone as if somehow it was Patty's fault that she could get nobody else.
“Why, right away," answered Patty, interest returning to her eyes.
“Have you any objection to traveling and being away from New York for several weeks perhaps?”
“Not at all.”
“Mother," put in the girl in the window impatiently, “why don't you phone to Zambri's? You know they always have somebody."
“Be still, Marjorie," said her mother. “Zambri was very impudent the last time I phoned him when I got that woman to help Hester, and besides I haven't any time this morning. What did you say your name was?" She turned back to Patricia.
Patricia hesitated.
“Would you mind very much if I didn't use my own name?" she asked with a troubled look. “I'm not ashamed of working, you know, but I would rather not have my family find out about it for a while. Could you call me by the name of Fisher, Edith Fisher? It was – my grandmother’s name.”
"It makes no difference to me what name you choose to go by, I suppose,” said the lady coldly. "You seem to have good manners, and if you have a good temper and a little common sense that's about all that’s necessary. I suppose I might as well try you. References don't amount to much nowadays anyway. People give references to servants just to get rid of them sometimes, although of course the Agency people usually find out about them, but if I decide to try you, how long will you likely stick to your job? Provided you prove satisfactory, of course?"
Patty wrinkled up the dimples about her nose and mouth quaintly, “Why, I don't know what you want me to do, but if it is anything that I can reasonably do I should think I might promise to stay all winter. That would be my intention. I'm not a quitter!" There was just a suggestion of rippling laughter in Patty's tone.
In spite of herself, the lady softened. Somehow one couldn't talk to this pretty, well-dressed child as if she were an ordinary servant.
“Well, your duties won't be arduous,” she said looking at Patty doubtfully. “My husband's sister, Miss Sylvia Cole, goes South to-night for a short stay and needs a companion. She's not an invalid exactly, but she's elderly and she's a little peculiar. She won't have a maid, she's old-fashioned, you know. She likes to do things for herself, but she has to have someone with her who can do them for her when she is not feeling able, and she gets lonesome, too; doesn't like to go around alone. But it takes a lot of patience to wait on her. Do you think you could keep your temper? She won't stand anyone who is impudent."
“Oh, I'm sure I wouldn't be impudent!" said Patty, suddenly realizing that it was not going to be all fun to go to work, and quaking in the depths of her heart at the thought of the elderly ogress whom she was to serve. Ought she perhaps to say no, and run away quickly while the going was good, before she bound herself for a winter to this peculiar old person? But where could she go? No, she must take this job if she got it, for she had a sudden terror at the thought of night coming on and finding her alone and penniless in the great city.
"I believe I shall try you,” said Mrs. Horliss-Cole thoughtfully.
"I should say you better consult your sister-in-law. Mother, dear,” interrupted Marjorie pertly from her window-sill. “You know Aunt Sylvia. If she doesn’t like her, nothing doing!”
"Don’t interrupt, Marjorie. Your aunt has already given her consent to having Miss Morris and she doesn't need to know the difference. I really can't be bothered to go over the whole long argument again. She wanted Hester, you know, and I simply cannot spare her with all the fall sewing to be done. That's all right. Miss Fisher, I think I'll engage you. Is your trunk packed? You'll need to be here ready to begin your service by four o'clock, I should say. Can you get your trunk ready by that time?”
“I have only a suitcase with me,” said Patty, suddenly feeling very small and alone, and that's checked at the station. It won't take me long to get it."
“Oh, very well. You can have your trunk sent after. And if you like, you can ride down to the station now and we can arrange about salary and hours and so on, by the way. Then the chauffeur can bring you back while I'm at a committee meeting. Unless you have shopping to do. If so, he can wait for you.”
"Thank you, no," said Patty. "I'd rather take a little walk if you don't mind, unless there is something you want me to do. I've never been in New York before."
Mrs. Horliss-Cole turned and stared at her curiously:
“How strange!” she said, as if she were an article in a museum. "You really don't look it. You have quite a sophisticated manner. But I don't think I shall trust