Visits and Sketches at Home and Abroad with Tales and Miscellanies Now First Collected - LightNovelsOnl.com
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Oui, miladi, le monstre! il dit comme ca, dat he will sing more louder den ever.
LADY AMARANTHE--(_sinking again into her chair._)
Ah! the horrid man!
JUSTINE.
Ah! dere is no politesse, no more den dere is police in dis country.
LADY AMARANTHE.
If Lord Amaranthe were not two hundred miles off--but, as it is, I must find some remedy--let me think--bribery, I suppose. Have they sent for him? I dread to see the wretch. What noise is that? allez voir, ma chere!
JUSTINE--(_goes and returns._)
Madame, c'est justement notre homme, voulez-vous qu'il entre?
LADY AMARANTHE.
Oui, faites entrer.
[_She leans back in her chair._
JUSTINE--(_at the door._)
Entrez, entrez toujours, dat is, come in, good mister.
_Enter d.i.c.k. He bows; and, squeezing his hat in his hands, looks round him with considerable embarra.s.sment._
JUSTINE--(_to Lady Amaranthe._)
Bah! comme il sent le cuir, n'est-ce pas, madame?
LADY AMARANTHE.
Faugh! mes sels--ma vinaigrette, Justine--non, l'eau de Cologne, qui est la sur la table. (_JUSTINE brings her some eau de Cologne; she pours some upon her handkerchief, and applies it to her temples and to her nose, as if overcome; then, raising her eye-gla.s.s, she examines d.i.c.k from head to foot._) Good man--a--pray, what is your name?
d.i.c.k--(_with a profound bow._)
d.i.c.k, please your ladys.h.i.+p.
LADY AMARANTHE.
Hum--a--a--pray, Mr. d.i.c.k--
d.i.c.k.
Folks just call me plain d.i.c.k, my lady. I'm a poor honest cobbler, and no mister.
LADY AMARANTHE--(_pettishly._)
Well, sir, it is of no consequence. You live in the small house over the way, I think?
d.i.c.k.
Yes, ma'am, my lady, I does; I rents the attics.
LADY AMARANTHE.
You appear a good civil sort of man enough. (_He bows._) I sent my servant over to request that you would not disturb me in the night--or the morning, as you call it. I have very weak health--am quite an invalid--your loud singing in the morning just opposite to my windows----
d.i.c.k--(_eagerly._)
Ma'am, I--I'm very sorry; I ax your ladys.h.i.+p's pardon; I'll never sing no more above my breath, if you please.
JUSTINE.
Comment! c'est honnete, par exemple.
LADY AMARANTHE--(_surprised._)
Then you did not tell my servant that you would sing louder than ever, in spite of me?
d.i.c.k.
Me, my Lady? I never said no such thing.
LADY AMARANTHE.
This is strange; or is there some mistake? Perhaps you are not the same Mr. d.i.c.k?
d.i.c.k.
Why, yes, my lady, for that matter, I be the same d.i.c.k. (_Approaching a few steps, and speaking confidentially._) I'll just tell your ladys.h.i.+p the whole truth, and not a bit of a lie. There comes an impudent fellow to me, and he tells me, just out of his own head, I'll be bound, that if I sung o' mornings, he would have me put in the stocks.
LADY AMARANTHE.
Good heavens!
JUSTINE--(_in the same tone._)
Grands dieux!
d.i.c.k--(_with a grin._)
Now the stocks is for a rogue, as the saying is. As for my singing, that's neither here nor there; but no jackanapes shall threaten _me_.
I _will_ sing if I please, (_st.u.r.dily_,) and I won't sing if I don't please; and (_lowering his tone_) I don't please, if it disturbs your ladys.h.i.+p. (_Retreating_) I wish your ladys.h.i.+p a good day, and better health.
