1922 Alice Adams by Booth Tarkington

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something malleable in her mouth. "Listen," she said. "You folks expectin' a coloured lady?"
"No," said Alice. "Especially not at the front door."
"Listen," the coloured woman said again. "Listen. Say, listen. Ain't they another coloured lady awready here
by the day? Listen. Ain't Miz Malena Burns here by the day this evenin'? Say, listen. This the number house
she give ME."
"Are you the waitress?" Alice asked, dismally.
"Yes'm, if Malena here."
"Malena is here," Alice said, and hesitated; but she decided not to send the waitress to the back door; it might
CHAPTER XXI 139
be a risk. She let her in. "What's your name?"
"Me? I'm name' Gertrude. Miss Gertrude Collamus."
"Did you bring a cap and apron?"
Gertrude took the little bundle from under her arm. "Yes'm. I'm all fix'."
"I've already set the table," Alice said. "I'll show you what we want done."
She led the way to the dining-room, and, after offering some instruction there, received by Gertrude with
languor and a slowly moving jaw, she took her into the kitchen, where the cap and apron were put on. The
effect was not fortunate; Gertrude's eyes were noticeably bloodshot, an affliction made more apparent by the
white cap; and Alice drew her mother apart, whispering anxiously,
"Do you suppose it's too late to get someone else?"
"I'm afraid it is," Mrs. Adams said. "Malena says it was hard enough to get HER! You have to pay them so
much that they only work when they feel like it."
"Mama, could you ask her to wear her cap straighter? Every time she moves her head she gets it on one side,
and her skirt's too long behind and too short in front--and oh, I've NEVER seen such FEET!" Alice laughed
desolately. "And she MUST quit that terrible chewing!"
"Never mind; I'll get to work with her. I'll straighten her out all I can, dearie; don't worry." Mrs. Adams patted
her daughter's shoulder encouragingly. "Now YOU can't do another thing, and if you don't run and begin
dressing you won't be ready. It'll only take me a minute to dress, myself, and I'll be down long before you
will. Run, darling! I'll look after everything."
Alice nodded vaguely, went up to her room, and, after only a moment with her mirror, brought from her closet
the dress of white organdie she had worn the night when she met Russell for the first time. She laid it carefully
upon her bed, and began to make ready to put it on. Her mother came in, half an hour later, to "fasten" her.
"I'M all dressed," Mrs. Adams said, briskly. "Of course it doesn't matter. He won't know what the rest of us
even look like: How could he? I know I'm an old SIGHT, but all I want is to look respectable. Do I?"
"You look like the best woman in the world; that's all!" Alice said, with a little gulp.
Her mother laughed and gave her a final scrutiny. "You might use just a tiny bit more colour, dearie-- I'm
afraid the excitement's made you a little pale. And you MUST brighten up! There's sort of a look in your eyes
as if you'd got in a trance and couldn't get out. You've had it all day. I must run: your father wants me to help
him with his studs. Walter hasn't come yet, but I'll look after him; don't worry, And you better HURRY,
dearie, if you're going to take any time fixing the flowers on the table."
She departed, while Alice sat at the mirror again, to follow her advice concerning a "tiny bit more colour."
Before she had finished, her father knocked at the door, and, when she responded, came in. He was dressed in
the clothes his wife had pressed; but he had lost substantially in weight since they were made for him; no one
would have thought that they had been pressed. They hung from him voluminously, seeming to be the clothes
of a larger man.
"Your mother's gone downstairs," he said, in a voice of distress.
CHAPTER XXI 140
"One of the buttonholes in my shirt is too large and I can't keep the dang thing fastened. I don't know what to
do about it! I only got one other white shirt, and it's kind of ruined: I tried it before I did this one. Do you
s'pose you could do anything?"
"I'll see," she said.
"My collar's got a frayed edge," he complained, as she examined his troublesome shirt. "It's a good deal like
wearing a saw; but I expect it'll wilt down flat pretty soon, and not bother me long. I'm liable to wilt down
flat, myself, I expect; I don't know as I remember any such hot night in the last ten or twelve years." He lifted
his head and sniffed the flaccid air, which was laden with a heavy odour. "My, but that smell is pretty strong!"
he said.
"Stand still, please, papa," Alice begged him. "I can't see what's the matter if you move around. How absurd
you are about your old glue smell, papa! There isn't a vestige of it, of course."
"I didn't mean glue," he informed her. "I mean cabbage. Is that fashionable now, to have cabbage when there's
company for dinner?"
"That isn't cabbage, papa. It's Brussels sprouts."
"Oh, is it? I don't mind it much, because it keeps that glue smell off me, but it's fairly strong. I expect you
don't notice it so much because you been in the house with it all along, and got used to it while it was
growing."
"It is pretty dreadful," Alice said. "Are all the windows open downstairs?"
"I'll go down and see, if you'll just fix that hole up for me."
"I'm afraid I can't," she said. "Not unless you take your shirt off and bring it to me. I'll have to sew the hole [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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