Lady Baltimore | Page 8

so she stood blushing at him behind the counter, while he stood
blushing at her in front of it.
At length he succeeded in speaking. "That's all, I believe.
Good-morning."
At his hastily departing back she, too, murmured: "Good-morning."
Before I knew it I had screamed out loudly from my table: "But he
hasn't told you the day he wants it for!"
Before she knew it she had flown to the door--my cry had set her going,
as if I had touched a spring--and there he was at the door himself,
rushing back. He, too, had remembered. It was almost a collision, and
nothing but their good Southern breeding, the way they took it, saved it
from being like a rowdy farce.
"I know," he said simply and immediately. "I am sorry to be so careless.
It's for the twenty-seventh."

She was writing it down in the order-book. "Very well. That is
Wednesday of next week. You have given us more time than we need."
She put complete, impersonal business into her tone; and this time he
marched off in good order, leaving peace in the Woman's Exchange.
No, not peace; quiet, merely; the girl at the counter now proceeded to
grow indignant with me. We were alone together, we two; no young
man, or any other business, occupied her or protected me. But if you
suppose that she made war, or expressed rage by speaking, that is not it
at all. From her counter in front to my table at the back she made her
displeasure felt; she was inaudibly crushing; she did not do it even with
her eye, she managed it--well, with her neck, somehow, and by the way
she made her nose look in profile. Aunt Carola would have embraced
her--and I should have liked to do so myself. She could not stand the
idea of my having, after all these days of official reserve that she had
placed between us, startled her into that rush to the door annihilated her
dignity at a blow. So did I finish my sandwiches beneath her invisible
but eloquent fire. What affair of mine was the cake? And what sort of
impertinent, meddlesome person was I, shrieking out my suggestions to
people with whom I had no acquaintance? These were the things that
her nose and her neck said to me the whole length of the Exchange. I
had nothing but my own weakness to thank; it was my interest in
weddings that did it, made me forget my decorum, the public place,
myself, everything, and plunge in. And I became more and more
delighted over it as the girl continued to crush me. My day had been
dull, my researches had not brought me a whit nearer royal blood; I
looked at my little bill-of-fare, and then I stepped forward to the
counter, adventurous, but polite.
"I should like a slice, if you please, of Lady Baltimore," I said with
extreme formality.
I thought she was going to burst; but after an interesting second she
replied, "Certainly," in her fit Regular Exchange tone; only, I thought it
trembled a little.
I returned to the table and she brought me the cake, and I had my first
felicitous meeting with Lady Baltimore. Oh, my goodness! Did you

ever taste it? It's all soft, and it's in layers, and it has nuts--but I can't
write any more about it; my mouth waters too much.
Delighted surprise caused me once more to speak aloud, and with my
mouth full. "But, dear me, this Is delicious!"
A choking ripple of laughter came from the counter. "It's I who make
them," said the girl. "I thank you for the unintentional compliment."
Then she walked straight back to my table. "I can't help it," she said,
laughing still, and her delightful, insolent nose well up; "how can I
behave myself when a man goes on as you do?" A nice white curly dog
followed her, and she stroked his ears.
"Your behavior is very agreeable to me," I remarked.
"You'll allow me to say that you're not invited to criticise it. I was
decidedly put out with you for making me ridiculous. But you have
admired my cake with such enthusiasm that you are forgiven.
And--may I hope that you are getting on famously with the battle of
Cowpens?"
I stared. "I'm frankly very much astonished that you should know about
that!"
"Oh, you're just known all about in Kings Port."
I wish that our miserable alphabet could in some way render the soft
Southern accent which she gave to her words. But it cannot. I could
easily misspell, if I chose; but how, even then, could I, for instance,
make you hear her way of saying "about"? "Aboot" would magnify it;
and besides, I decline