The Motor Maid

								

"Getting? I've got. If Simpkins were here I'd have her make us tea, in
my tea-basket."
"I'll make it if you like," I volunteered.
"A French--a half French--girl make tea?"
"It's the American half that knows how."
"You look too ornamental to be useful. But you can try."
I did try, and succeeded. It was rather fun, and never did tea taste so
delicious. There were biscuits to go with it, which Beau shared; and I
do wish that people (other people) were obliged to make faces when they
eat, such as Beau has to make, because if so, one could add a new
interest to life by inviting even the worst bores to dinner.
I was fascinated with his contortions, and I did not attempt to conceal
my sudden change of opinion concerning Beau as a companion. When I had
humbly invited him to drink out of my saucer, which I held from high
tide to low, I saw that my conquest of his mistress was complete.
Already we had exchanged names, as well as some confidences. I knew that
she was Miss Paget, and she knew that I was Lys d'Angely; but after the
tea-drinking episode she became doubly friendly.
She told me that, owing to an unforeseen circumstance (partly, even
largely, connected with Beau) which had caused a great upheaval in her
life, she had now not a human being belonging to her, except her maid
Simpkins, of whom she would like to get rid if only she knew how.
"Talk of the Old Man of the Sea!" she sighed. "He was an afternoon
caller compared with Simpkins. She's been on my back for twenty years. I
suppose she will be for another twenty, unless I slam the door of the
family vault in her face."
"Couldn't Beau help you?" I asked.
"Even Beau is powerless against her. She has hypnotized him with marrow
bones."
"You've escaped from her for the present," I suggested. "She's on the
other side of the Channel. Now is your time to be bold."
"Ah, but I can't stop out of England for ever, and I tell you she's
waiting for me at Dover. A relative (a very eccentric one, and quite
different from the rest of us, or he wouldn't have made his home abroad)
has left me a house in Italy, some sort of old castle, I believe--so
unsuitable! I'm going over to see about selling it for I've no one to
trust but myself, owing to the circumstances of which I spoke. I want to
get back as soon as possible--I hope in a few weeks, though how I shall
manage without any Italian, heaven may know--I don't! Do you speak it?"
"A little."
"Well, I wish I could have you with me. You'd make a splendid companion
for an old woman like me: young, good to look at, energetic (or you
wouldn't be travelling about alone), brave (conquered your fear of
Beau), accomplished (three languages, and goodness knows what besides!),
presence of mind (the way you whisked my clothes off), handy (I never
tasted better tea)--altogether you sum up ideally. What a pity you're
rich, and out of the market!"