At the table, Patty gave Nan a graphic description of her morning’s experiences.
Though more or less shocked at the whole performance, Nan couldn’t help laughing at Patty’s dramatic recital, and the way in which she mimicked the various people.
“And yet, Nan,” she said, “it’s really pathetic; they all seemed so busy and so tired. The woman who gave me the work was like a machine,—as if she just fed out centrepieces to people who came for them. I’m sure she hasn’t smiled for fourteen years. The only gay one in the place was the red-headed boy; and he talked such fearful slang it cured me of ever using it again! Father will be glad of that, anyway. Hereafter I shall converse in Henry James diction. Why, Nan, he said, ‘Pipe de guy wit’ de goggles’!”
“What did he mean?” asked Nan, puzzled.
“Oh, he meant, ‘observe the gentleman wearing spectacles.’”
“How did you know?”
“Intuition, I suppose. And then, he pointed to the man in question.”
“Patty, you’ll get more slangy still, if you go among such people.”
“No, I won’t. There’s no cure like an awful example. Watch the elegance of my conversation from now on. And besides, Nan, you mustn’t act as if I associated with them socially. I assure you I was quite the haughty lady. But that slangy boy was an angel unawares. I’d probably be there yet but for his kindly aid.”
“Well, I suppose you’ll have to carry this absurd scheme through. And, Patty, I’ll help you in any way I can. Don’t you want me to wind silks, or something?”