dow-sill and Emily sat down on the corner of the sofa, reminding herself that it could be only for a minute. “Saw the light in the window as I went past,” said Perry. “So I thought I’d just take a sneak round to the side and see if it was you. Wanted to tell you the tale while it was fresh. Say, Emily, you were right—r-i-g-h-t!. I should smile. I wouldn’t go through this evening again for a hundred dollars.”
“How did you get along?” asked Emily anxiously. In a sense, she felt responsible for Perry’s manners. Such as he had he had acquired at New Moon.
Perry grinned.
“It’s a heart-rending tale. I’ve had a lot of conceit taken out of me. I suppose you'll say that’s a good thing.”
“You could spare some,” said Emily coolly.
Perry shrugged his shoulders.
“Well, I'll tell you all about it if you won’t tell Ilse or Teddy. I’m not going to have them laughing at me. I went to Queen Street at the proper time—I remembered all you'd said about boots and tie and nails and handkerchief and I was all right outside. When I got to the house my troubles began. It was so big and splendid I felt queer—not afraid—I wasn’t afraid then—but just a bit as if I was ready to jump—like a strange cat when you try to pat it. I rang the bell; of course, it stuck and kept on ringing like mad. I could hear it away down the hall, and thinks I, ‘They’ll think I don’t know any better than to keep on ringing it till somebody comes,’ and that rattled me. The maid rattled me still more. I didn’t know whether I ought to shake hands with her or not.”
“Oh, Perry!”
“Well, I didn’t. I never was to a house where there was a maid like that before, all dolled up with a cap and finicky little apron. She made me feel like thirty cents.”
“Did you shake hands with her?”
“No.”
Emily gave a sigh of relief.
