Carmella Commands
of course I’m a kid, so it has to be Kate. So, if you don’t mind⸺”
“Kid Kate!” murmured Mrs. Barrington, thinking aloud.
“Yes’m! Kid Kate. Anything but that Carmella stuff. I get that at home.”
“But Carmella is a beautiful name,” suggested Mrs. Barrington.
The girl stood squarely gazing, but did not answer. “And you never told Miss Sargle to call you Kate, did you, Carmella?”
“Oh—her! Buon Dio, no!”
“But why not?”
“Perchè? Because she’d ask me why and argue me, and ask m’ mother why, and write down a figure in a book. She’s all rules. She’s dumb. She wouldn’t know—the way you do, Mrs. Barrington.”
“I see.”
Mrs. Barrington was silent for a moment. Waiting to be sure that she wholly did see. Waiting to value Carmella’s verdict on her own possible virtues. Then, suddenly, she came to the reason for the interview.
“Let’s sit down, Kate. I want to ask you a ques tion. You know we have a sewing class here at Hope House. Your mother, they tell me, makes beautiful lace. But she doesn’t come any more.”
“What of it?” demanded Carmella. “Lots of other girls’ mothers don’t.”
[18]