Oh! Christina!/Chapter 5
V
"WITH BALDYIN'S REGAIRDS"
CHRISTINA had just set a cup of tea and a slice of hot buttered toast within easy reach of her aunt, when she heard the shop-door open.
Peeping through the curtain she saw a pleasant-featured gentleman, tall, clean-shaven, and rosy, approaching the counter.
"Baldyin," she whispered to her aunt. Then, opening the glazed door a few inches, she called, in her most business-like voice—
"Tak' a sate, please. I'll see ye in twa shakes!"
"Oh, Christina," murmured the helpless Miss Purvis, "do try to speak with more refinement."
"Oh, Jamaica!" said Christina, rushing to the sink and turning on the water. "Ma fingers is a' creesh."
Miss Purvis shuddered. "Christina," she began in a low, pleading voice, "you will remember to be discreet, won't you? Mr. Baldwin is a gentleman"
"He is that," said Christina cordially. "He gi'ed me a saxpence when he was here afore the New Year, ye mind."
"Yes. But he is more than kind; he is very refined. Try not to be rude or impertinent. I should not like him to be offended in my shop."
"Oh, dinna fash yersel', auntie," said the girl, hurriedly drying her hands. "Him an' me'll get on fine"
"He and I, Christina. I wonder if you will ever learn your grammar."
"Maybe I wull—when I'm as auld as you, auntie. Noo, jist you tak' yer tea and toast, an' dinna get into a stew. If the doctor comes when I'm engaged at the coonter, I'll jist send him in to ye." Christina turned to the door.
"Christina!"
"I hear ye."
"Leave the door open."
"Ye'll get cauld in yer fit. There's an awfu' draught the day."
"My foot is well covered."
"Weel, ye'll get it in yer heid."
"Do as I tell you, Christina."
"Hooch, ay! Onything for peace! " Christina departed, leaving the door open a couple of inches.
Miss Purvis strained her ears, but heard very little of the conversation at the counter, for Christina, on emerging from the living-room, had repeated the signal which she had found effective in the case of the Rev. Mr. Beaton.
"She's to be kep' quate," she said softly across the counter.
"I was exceedingly sorry to hear, from the piermaster, of the accident," returned Mr. Baldwin, also softly.
"Ay, I seen ye. Awfu' cauld weather—eh? Hoo's tred wi' ye?" she went on pleasantly. "Uh-ha! I daursay ye'll be a bit slack efter the Christmas rush. Weel, I was to pay ye yer account. Here it is. Three pound seventeen an' nine."
"Thank you," said Mr. Baldwin, repressing a smile.
Christina laid the account before him, dipped a pen deep in the inkpot, and handed it to him. Having inked her fingers, she pretended to be looking for something on the floor while she wiped them on her stocking.
Then she laid on the counter three soiled notes, a half-sovereign, and two half-crowns.
"What's the discoont?" she inquired in a careless tone of voice.
"I'm afraid there isn't any discount," he replied, smiling.
"That's peculiar," said Christina, using a word to which she had recently taken a violent fancy.
"Oh, no, it's quite usual," returned the amused traveller. "Miss Purvis never expects discount."
"It wud gi'e her a nice surprise." She added a shilling to the money already on the counter. "There, noo! That'll leave a shillin' an' nine-pence for discoont. Eh?"
Mr. Baldwin shook his shiny head. "I'm afraid I can't afford that," he said, as he affixed a stamp to the account.
Unwillingly Christina produced another shilling. "The ninepence 'll no' kill ye," she remarked, with a bright, encouraging smile.
He hesitated. "Well," he said at last, "I'll let it go this time, but please do not ask for it again. You see, we sell our goods so cheaply that we really can't afford to allow any deductions." He receipted the account and handed it to her.
"Much obleeged to ye," she said politely. "Noo, I've got an order for ye, Maister Baldwin."
"That's good! I didn't think Miss Purvis would have been able to attend to anything."
"Aweel, ye see, she had me. I ken a guid bit aboot the business."
"So I have learned," said Mr. Baldwin, stroking his chin.
"But I'll ha'e a squint at yer samples first, if ye please. Oh, jist baud on a meenute. Here's the doctor comin'."
The doctor entered the shop, and Christina gave him a friendly nod. "Jist gang furrit," [1] she said.
He disappeared into the back-room, and, to the girl's satisfaction, shut the door behind him.
She turned once more to Mr. Baldwin, who was obligingly unstrapping a square leather case.
"Ha'e ye ony peevers wi' ye?" she asked.
"Not with me. But, of course, we can supply them."
"Could ye manage a dizzen?"
"We would do our best."
"White marble yins?"
"Yes. Penny peevers, you mean?"
"Uh-ha. What's the price a dizzen?"
"Eightpence."
"My! that's peculiar!"
"Best we can do, ma'am," said Mr. Baldwin quite gravely.
"Weel, I'll risk a dizzen. See an' send the best." Christina referred to her list. "Ha'e ye a sample o' jumpin'-jakes?"
"Jumping-jacks? I believe I have.... Yes, here we are!"
"Work it, please."
Mr. Baldwin worked it, while Christina regarded the operation with a critical eye. Then she held out her hand for it, and examined it minutely.
"Could ye send three o' thur?"
"Certainly. We can make you up a dozen of assorted toys, including the jumping-jacks. But could you not do with six?"
Christina shook her head. "There's jist the three new babies in Kilmabeg the noo. Auntie was for orderin' hauf-a-dizzen, but I chekit her. Weel, what else ha'e ye got?"
Mr. Baldwin laid an array of toys and fancy goods on the counter. Christina again referred to her list.
"Ye've nae burls[2] there," she said, looking up. "I was wantin' hauf-a-dozen, but they wud need to be better nor the last lot. The last lot o' burls wasna up to the mark."
"Indeed, I'm sorry to hear that. What was like the matter? "
"The pea was aye stickin'. We had a heap o' complaints."
"I'll see what can be done."
"An' ye can send three penny motor-caurs. They're fashionable the noo. That'll mak' the dizzen."
"Thank you. Any dolls?"
"Dolls! Na, na. We're chock-a-block wi' dolls the noo. The cheeny yins ha'e been a failure. But we can dae wi' a dizzen cahootchy ba's. See an' send guid yins that'll stot [3] weel."
"This size?" inquired Mr. Baldwin.
"Ay, that size, but no' that sort. It's plain yins I want. The pentit yins is ower dear, excep' when the gentry's here in the simmer. What dae ye ca' this?" She held up one of the samples.
"Oh, that's one of the latest novelties. It is a bust of the Prime Minister and pin-cushion combined. To be retailed at threepence each."
"Och, that's nae use—faur ower dear! An' it's no like a meenister, onywey."
"Well, what do you think of this for a cheap line in purses? Twopence each, retail."
Christina shook her head. "If that purse was gettin' damp, the cash wud fa' through it."
The traveller laughed good-humouredly. "Well, what about hatpins?"
"Uh-ha! We're needing hatpins." She consulted the list, on which was marked—"One dozen assorted hatpins."
"Ye can send twa dizzen assortit," she said briskly. "Them wi' the big green jools"
"Emeralds?"
"Aw; it's nae odds as lang as they're green." Christina then proceeded to read, with many comments, the remaining items on her list. She would have liked very much to have made additional purchases from the samples which Mr. Baldwin continued to produce from the large case, but the thought of Miss Purvis restrained her. "I'll get auntie to buy them herself the next time," she reflected.
"Is there anything else now, Miss Christina?" the traveller asked, after he had noted the orders.
"That's the lot," she replied regretfully. "Mind an' send the best," she added. "Dinna send the burls wi' saft peas in them."
"I've made a special note about the whistles and peas," said Mr. Baldwin. He set to work to pack his samples.
The girl watched him. Presently she remarked—
"Yer weans[4] 'll ha'e fine fun wi' yer samples whiles."
"I beg your pardon?"
"I was sayin' yer weans 'll ha'e fine fun wi' yer samples. I suppose they get playin' wi' them when ye're in the hoose. What d'ye dae when the weans breaks a sample, Maister Baldwin?"
"My dear girl," said the traveller, laughing, "you have a wonderful imagination. But I happen to be a bachelor."
Christina whistled. "That's peculiar," she said. "But I s'pose it's cheaper."
At this point the doctor reappeared. "I'll be back shortly," he said to Christina.
"Is she no' gettin' better?"
"Oh, yes. She's getting on nicely. How are you getting on?" he inquired quizzingly.
"Champion!"
The doctor hurried away.
Christina turned to Mr. Baldwin. "Him an' me's rale pack," [5] she observed, nodding in the direction of the doctor, who was passing the window. "I yinst helpit his wife for a week when the servant was lyin' badly. He used to let me wash his bottles, an' yinst I heard him pullin' a man's tooth. My! thon's an' excitin' hoose to bide in! I mind"
Mr. Baldwin had finished his packing.
"I'm afraid I must go, Miss Christina. The steamer is about due, I think," he said. "Thank you very much for attending to me. I hope your aunt will soon be well. She is fortunate in having so capable an assistant." And he bowed.
Christina's countenance beamed with delight.
"I'm maybe no' sae green as I'm cabbage-lookin'," she murmured modestly.
Mr. Baldwin laughed and held out his hand, which the girl shook warmly.
Then the traveller lifted from the floor an unsymmetrical newspaper-covered parcel, which Christina had not hitherto observed. He laid it before her.
"This is a fowl—a chicken," he said, a little awkwardly. "The people at the farm along the road assured me it was a nice one. Would you mind handing it to Miss Purvis—with my compliments and best wishes for a speedy recovery? Good-bye." He grasped his sample case, put on his hat, and made for the door.
"Hey!" cried Christina, as he was disappearing. "Here a meenute!"
With the door-handle in his fingers the traveller looked round.
Christina was holding out a sixpence and three pennies.
"Ye're awfu' kind," she said. "I'll let ye aff the ninepence discoont."
But Mr. Baldwin, with a hurried, "No, no, my dear child!" closed the door and fled towards the pier.
"Christina!"
"I'm comin', auntie."
A moment later she entered the living-room. She was trying to remember Mr. Baldwin's message to her aunt, but its exact words proved too much for her.
"Here's a poultry, wi' Baldwin's love," she announced.
"What?" shrieked Miss Purvis, crimson.
"Weel, it's a hen, wi' his kind regairds," said Christina, removing the newspaper.
Tears came into the eyes of the spinster.
"How kind!" she sighed. "I hope you thanked him nicely, my dear," she added.
"Hooch, ay!"
"But every one is so kind. Fancy what the doctor is doing for me?" Miss Purvis went on. "He has gone to borrow an invalid-chair on wheels from a friend, so that I'll be able to get back to the shop at once! And you'll get back to school to-morrow morning. I expect him every minute now. Isn't he kind?"
Language failed Christina. Turning her back on her aunt, she dropped the fowl upon the floor and gave it a savage kick.