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"It's Mrs. Riley's taste," said Mary.
"'Tis a beaucheouz tas'e," insisted the Creole, contemplatively, gazing at the Pope's vestments tricked out with blue, scarlet, and gilt spangles. "Well, Mistoo Itchlin, since some time I've been stipulating me to do myseff that honoh, seh, to come at yo' 'ouse; well, ad the end I am yeh. I think you fine yoseff not ve'y well those days. Is that nod the case, Mistoo Itchlin?"
"Oh, I'm well enough!" Richling ended with a laugh, somewhat explosively. Mary looked at him with forced gravity as he suppressed it.
He had to draw his nose slowly through his thumb and two fingers before he could quite command himself. Mary relieved him by responding:--
"No, Mr. Richling hasn't been well for some time."
Narcisse responded triumphantly:--
"It stwuck me--so soon I pe'ceive you--that you 'ave the ai' of a valedictudina'y. Tha.s.s a ve'y fawtunate that you ah 'esiding in a 'ealthsome pawt of the city, in fact."
Both John and Mary laughed and demurred.
"You don't think?" asked the smiling visitor. "Me, I dunno,--I fine one thing. If a man don't die fum one thing, yet, still, he'll die fum something. I 'ave study that out, Mistoo Itchlin. 'To be, aw to not be, thaz the queztion,' in fact. I don't ca'e if you live one place aw if you live anotheh place, 'tis all the same,--you've got to pay to live!"
The Richlings laughed again, and would have been glad to laugh more; but each, without knowing it of the other, was reflecting with some mortification upon the fact that, had they been talking French, Narcisse would have bitten his tongue off before any of his laughter should have been at their expense.
"Indeed you have got to pay to live," said John, stepping to the window and drawing up its painted paper shade. "Yes, and"--
"Ah!" exclaimed Mary, with gentle disapprobation. She met her husband's eye with a smile of protest. "John," she said, "Mr. ----" she couldn't think of the name.
"Nahcisse," said the Creole.
"Will think," she continued, her amus.e.m.e.nt climbing into her eyes in spite of her, "you're in earnest."
"Well, I am, partly. Narcisse knows, as well as we do that there are two sides to the question." He resumed his seat. "I reckon"--
"Yes," said Narcisse, "and what you muz look out faw, 'tis to git on the soff side."
They all laughed.
"I was going to say," said Richling, "the world takes us as we come, 'sight-unseen.' Some of us pay expenses, some don't."
"Ah!" rejoined Narcisse, looking up at the whitewashed ceiling, "those egspenze'!" He raised his hand and dropped it. "I _fine_ it so _diffycul'_ to defeat those egspenze'! In fact, Mistoo Itchlin, such ah the state of my financial emba'a.s.sment that I do not go out at all. I stay in, in fact. I stay at my 'ouse--to light' those egspenze'!"
They were all agreed that expenses could be lightened thus.
"And by making believe you don't want things," said Mary.
"Ah!" exclaimed Narcisse, "I nevvah kin do that!" and Richling gave a laugh that was not without sympathy. "But I muz tell you, Mistoo Itchlin, I am aztonizh at _you_."
An instant apprehension seized John and Mary. They _knew_ their ill-concealed amus.e.m.e.nt would betray them, and now they were to be called to account. But no.
"Yesseh," continued Narcisse, "you 'ave the gweatez o'casion to be the subjec' of congwatulation, Mistoo Itchlin, to 'ave the poweh to _ac_c.u.m'late money in those hawd time' like the pwesen'!"
The Richlings cried out with relief and amused surprise.
"Why, you couldn't make a greater mistake!"
"Mistaken! Hah! W'en I ged that memo'andum f'om Dr. Seveeah to paz that fifty dollah at yo' cwedit, it burz f'om me, that egs_clam_ation!
'Acchilly! 'ow that Mistoo Itchlin deserve the 'espect to save a lill quant.i.ty of money like that!"
The laughter of John and Mary did not impede his rhapsody, nor their protestations shake his convictions.
"Why," said Richling, lolling back, "the Doctor has simply omitted to have you make the entry of"--
But he had no right to interfere with the Doctor's accounts. However, Narcisse was not listening.
"You' compel' to be witch some day, Mistoo Itchlin, ad that wate of p'ogwess; I am convince of that. I can deteg that indis_pu_tably in yo'
physio'nomie. Me--I _can't_ save a cent! Mistoo Itchlin, you would be aztonizh to know 'ow bad I want some money, in fact; exceb that I am _too_ pwoud to dizclose you that state of my condition!"
He paused and looked from John to Mary, and from Mary to John again.
"Why, I'll declare," said Richling, sincerely, dropping forward with his chin on his hand, "I'm sorry to hear"--
But Narcisse interrupted.
"Diffyculty with me--I am not willing to baw'."
Mary drew a long breath and glanced at her husband. He changed his att.i.tude and, looking upon the floor, said, "Yes, yes." He slowly marked the bare floor with the edge of his shoe-sole. "And yet there are times when duty actually"--
"I believe you, Mistoo Itchlin," said Narcisse, quickly forestalling Mary's attempt to speak. "Ah, Mistoo Itchlin! _if_ I had baw'd money ligue the huncle of my hant!" He waved his hand to the ceiling and looked up through that obstruction, as it were, to the witnessing sky.
"But I _hade_ that--to baw'! I tell you 'ow 'tis with me, Mistoo Itchlin; I nevvah would consen' to baw' money on'y if I pay a big inte'es' on it. An' I'm compel' to tell you one thing, Mistoo Itchlin, in fact: I nevvah would leave money with Doctah Seveeah to invez faw me--no!"
Richling gave a little start, and cast his eyes an instant toward his wife. She spoke.
"We'd rather you wouldn't say that to us, Mister ----" There was a commanding smile at one corner of her lips. "You don't know what a friend"--
Narcisse had already apologized by two or three gestures to each of his hearers.
"Misses Itchlin--Mistoo Itchlin,"--he shook his head and smiled skeptically,--"you think you kin admiah Doctah Seveeah mo' than me? 'Tis uzeless to attempt. 'With all 'is fault I love 'im still.'"
Richling and his wife both spoke at once.
"But John and I," exclaimed Mary, electrically, "love him, faults and all!"
She looked from husband to visitor, and from visitor to husband, and laughed and laughed, pus.h.i.+ng her small feet back and forth alternately and softly clapping her hands. Narcisse felt her in the centre of his heart. He laughed. John laughed.
"What I mean, Mistoo Itchlin," resumed Narcisse, preferring to avoid Mary's aroused eye,--"what I mean--Doctah Seveeah don't un'stan' that kine of business co'ectly. Still, ad the same time, if I was you I know I would 'ate faw my money not to be makin' me some inte'es'. I tell you what I would do with you, Mistoo Itchlin, in fact: I kin baw' that fifty dollah f'om you myseff."
Richling repressed a smile. "Thank you! But I don't care to invest it."
"Pay you ten pe' cent. a month."
"But we can't spare it," said Richling, smiling toward Mary. "We may need part of it ourselves."
"I tell you, 'eally, Mistoo Itchlin, I nevveh baw' money; but it juz 'appen I kin use that juz at the pwesent."