Page:Harper's New Monthly Magazine - v109.djvu/786

730 he wants to take them out, but he can't. Just keep the chain on and tell him Mr. Tarrant will attend to it—do you understand?"

Lena: "Yes, Mrs. Tarrant."

''Mrs. Tarrant wanders into the library and fumbles aimlessly in the packing-case. She draws out a magazine and begins to read it, pulling herself up on the barrel and kicking her feet rhythmically against the sides. Meanwhile Lena sets the kitchen table in the drawing-room for luncheon, passing in and out with table-cloth, carafe, dishes, teacups, etc. Presently she stands between the portières and announces:'' "Luncheon is served, Mrs. Tarrant."

''Mrs. Tarrant slips off the barrel, and still reading the magazine, takes her place at the table, propping her story in front of her against the chocolate-pot. She begins to eat. The bell rings. Lena goes to the door and admits the Paper-hanger, a tall, thin man, profoundly dejected, with two rolls of paper under his arm. Lena closes the door into the drawing-room and escorts him through the hall into the library, drawing the portieres closely between the rooms, then returns to the drawing-room, announcing:'' "The paper-hanger, Mrs. Tarrant."

Mrs. Tarrant, gratefully: "Thank Heaven! Now we may get something done. I wonder if he calls this a day's work? Do you suppose he can paper the library to-day, Lena?"

Lena: "No, Mrs. Tarrant,"

Mrs. Tarrant, dejectedly: "I suppose not. Well, I hope he will do his best, now he is so late."

''She continues to eat and read. The Paper-hanger lays his rolls on the sideboard, leaves the room, returns with trestles and a board, leaves again, returns with a pail of paste and a brush, consults his watch, and seats himself on the floor, leaning against the packing-case. He takes a newspaper from his pocket, relights the stump of a cigar in his mouth, and smokes as he reads. Mrs. Tarrant continues to eat and read in the drawing-room. After a few minutes she looks up and says to herself:'' "How still he is! Well, he's probably a good work-man." ''She resumes her reading. Presently she looks up again, sniffing inquiringly: "What is'' that vile smell? Is anybody, smoking?" She sniffs a moment longer, then walks to the portières and flings them apart, gazing in horrified amazement at the Paper-hanger, who returns her gaze calmly.

Mrs. Tarrant, with dignity: "Who are you, please?"

The Paper-hanger: "I'm the paper-hanger, lady."

Mrs. Tarrant, with marked restraint: "You don't seem to be hanging much paper now."

The Paper-hanger: "No, lady; I have only just come."

Mrs. Tarrant, desperately: "Well, why don't you begin and hang some now?"

The Paper-hanger, removing his cigar in injured surprise: "Now, lady? Why, lady, it's after twelve o'clock! It's my lunch hour! I can't work all the time!"

Mrs. Tarrant, persistently: "But you came only a few minutes ago—just before twelve!"

The Paper-hanger, with melancholy resignation: "Yes, lady, but it's after twelve now. I must have some rest!"

Mrs. Tarrant, explosively: "You are perfectly ridiculous, and Mr. Tarrant will see Mr. Untermeyer directly and put a stop to this. This house should have been ready four days ago."

The Paper-hanger: "Yes, lady."

Mrs. Tarrant leaves the library abruptly by the door leading into the hall and disappears.

Lena enters a moment later to clear the table, to whom the Paper-hanger, rising, remarks: "I must go back to the shop for more paper. Here is not enough. Tell the lady."

Lena, piling the dishes on a tray: "You do not begin now?"

The Paper-hanger: "Here is not enough—but two rolls. If I begin, I must soon stop. Better have enough. The boss did not say. Tell the lady."

''He takes the rolls under his arm and goes out. The hall door closes. Lena carries the tray out, and returns for the table-cloth. Mr. Tarrant enters, calling:'' "Bess! Where are you?"

Lena: "Mrs. Tarrant is in her bedroom, Mr. Tarrant."

Mr. Tarrant: "Oh, hello, Lena! Glad to see you." He goes out, returning presently with Mrs. Tarrant, whose voice is heard indistinctly along the hall.