Carmella Commands
“No, I think not,” was all he said.
“I had lunch—I mean part of a lunch—with Mrs. Barrington yesterday,” said Carmella. “She said you were here. She’d fired you.”
“That’s right, kid! What did she say she fired me for?”
“For being sick.”
“Well, that’s right, I reckon. A servant isn’t allowed to be sick, you know. Not in some families, anyway.”
“Want to know what I told her?”
“Sure!”
“I told her she was a damned heathen, and ran away from lunch in the middle.”
Dixon laughed like a joyous boy.
“Oh, you told her that, did you? What did she say?”
“I think she was mad. She wanted to get me to join her Girl Scouts. I wouldn’t. She’s a bum Girl Scout, she is. She’s⸺”
“Throw out your clutch!” said Dixon, laughing. “You’ll crash gears. Don’t worry about me, kid. They paid me a month ahead, and I’ve got a little saved up.”
“Have you really?” asked Carmella eagerly. “Then dad will like you better than ever. He likes folks to save. And he likes you anyway.”
“That’s good!” He was beginning to wonder in what direction the talk was tending.
[242]
