Crooked Jack had seen her go out and had remarked to himself
that the Old Lady was losing ground; she was pale and
peaked-looking. He now concluded that he had been mistaken.
The Old Lady's cheeks were pink and her eyes shining.
Somewhere in her walk she had shed ten years at least.
Crooked Jack leaned on his spade and decided that there weren't
many finer looking women anywhere than Old Lady Lloyd. Pity she
was such an old miser!
"Mr. Spencer," said the Old Lady graciously--she always spoke
very graciously to her inferiors when she talked to them
at all--"can you tell me the name of the new music teacher
who is boarding at Mr. William Spencer's?"
"Sylvia Gray," said Crooked Jack.
The Old Lady's heart gave another great bound. But she had known it--
she had known that girl with Leslie Gray's hair and eyes and laugh must
be Leslie Gray's daughter.
Crooked Jack spat on his hand and resumed his work, but his tongue
went faster than his spade, and the Old Lady listened greedily.
For the first time she enjoyed and blessed Crooked Jack's garrulity
and gossip. Every word he uttered was as an apple of gold in a picture
of silver to her.
He had been working at William Spencer's the day the new music teacher
had come, and what Crooked Jack couldn't find out about any person
in one whole day--at least as far as outward life went--was hardly worth
finding out.
Pages:
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44