Lady Good-for-Nothing eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 373 pages of information about Lady Good-for-Nothing.

Lady Good-for-Nothing eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 373 pages of information about Lady Good-for-Nothing.

“My dear Dicky,” his father answered, “you mistake.  I was thinking that it was a shame to coarsen such hands with housework.”  He eyed the girl again, and she met him with a straight face—­flushed a little and plainly perturbed, but not shrinking, although her bosom heaved—­for his admiration was entirely cool and critical.  “What is your name?” he asked.

“Ruth Josselin.”

He appeared to consider this for a moment, and then, reaching out a hand for the decanter, to dismiss the subject.  “Well, pick up your guinea,” he said.  “No doubt the woman outside has treated you badly; but I can’t intercede for you, to keep you a drudge here among the saucepans; no, upon my conscience, I can’t.  The fact is, Ruth Josselin, you have the makings of a beauty, and I’ll be no party to spoiling ’em.  What is more, it seems you have spirit, and no woman with beauty and spirit need fail to win her game in this world.  That’s my creed.”  He sipped his wine.

“If your Honour pleases,” said the girl quietly, picking up the coin, “the woman called me bad names, and I was not wanting you at all to speak for me.”

“Oho!” The Collector set down his glass and laughed.  “So that’s the way of it—­’Nobody asked you, sir, she said.’ Dicky, we sit rebuked.”

“But—­” she hesitated, and then went on rapidly in the lowest of low tones—­“if your Honour wouldn’t mind giving me silver instead of gold?  They won’t change gold for me in the town; they’ll think I have stolen it.  Most Sundays I’m allowed to take home broken meats to mother and grandfather, and to-night I shan’t be given any, now that I’m sent away.  They’ll be expecting me, and indeed, sir, I can’t bear to face them—­or I wouldn’t ask you.  I beg your Honour’s pardon for saying so much.”

“Hullo!” exclaimed the Collector.  “Why, yes, to be sure, you must be grandchild to the old man of the sea—­him that I met on the beach this afternoon, t’other side of the headland.  Lives in a hovel with a wood pile beside it, and a daughter that looks out for wreckage?”

“Your Honour spoke with them?” Into Ruth’s face there mounted a deeper tide of colour.  But whereas the first flush had been dark with distress, this second spread with a glow of affection.  Her eyes seemed to take light from it, and shone.

“I spoke with the old man.  Since you have said so much, I may say more.  I gave him food; he was starving.”

She bent her head.  Her hands moved a little, with a gesture most pitiful to see.  “I was afraid,” she muttered, “with these gales, and no getting to the oyster beds.”

“He took some food, too, to his daughter, with a bottle of wine, as I remember.”

A bright tear dropped.  In the candle-light Dicky saw it splash on the back of her hand, by the wrist.

“God bless your Honour!” Dicky could just hear the words.

The door opened and Manasseh entered, bearing the coffee on a silver tray.

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Lady Good-for-Nothing from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.