Just here again she was puzzled; with her folk, hard work and inflexible duty were of prime importance; they were the rock foundation; and she somehow had always counted on the courtesies of life as added to them, making them sweet and beautiful. But in this world, not perhaps so much with Harry as with others of his set, the depths beneath the gravely inclined head, the deferential smile and ceremonious action, the light clever converse, had sounded strangely hollow once or twice when she had essayed to sound them, and a certain fear to look and see possessed her.
The bell rang, and she was a little startled at the fright that struck her heart. She did not analyze it. In reality‚ÅÝ‚Äîpride forbade her to admit it‚ÅÝ‚Äîshe feared it was a call of some of Harry‚Äôs friends: some languid, assured Southern ladies, perilously gowned, with veiled disdain for this interloping Northerner and her strong mind. Especially was there one from New Orleans, tall and dark‚ÅÝ‚Äî
But it was no caller. It was simply someone named Stillings to see Mr. ¬ÝCresswell. She went down to see him‚ÅÝ‚Äîhe might be a constituent‚ÅÝ‚Äîand found a smirky brown man, very apologetic.
‚ÄúYou don‚Äôt know me‚ÅÝ‚Äîdoes you, Mrs. ¬ÝCresswell?‚Äù said Stillings. He knew when it was diplomatic to forget his grammar and assume his dialect.
‚ÄúWhy‚ÅÝ‚Äîno.‚Äù
‚ÄúYou remember I worked for Mr. ¬ÝHarry and served you-all lunch one day.‚Äù
‚ÄúOh, yes‚ÅÝ‚Äîwhy, yes! I remember now very well.‚Äù