"He must be pretty selfish!"
"Selfish! That’s not the word. He squeezes every one dry. He bothered me a while ago until I sold one of my rings to get money for him; and as soon as I’d handed him the money he walked out of the room without even saying, ‘Thank you.’ And when I tried to speak to him, he didn’t even stop; just called back to me, ‘I’m not in the mood for your conversation to-day. I couldn’t endure it.’ He’s a devil!"
"A devil!" thought Angelica. "I wish I could get at him! I bet I could handle him! I’d like to see him, anyway. I’d devil him! And maybe if he had a wife with more fight in her, more spirit, he’d be different. He’d be different to me!" her secret heart cried. "No man could ever neglect or hurt me. No man could ever really win me. I shall be loved, adored, obeyed, but I shall not give much. I am Angelica, the beautiful, the proud, the free!"
She was very ready to hear more, but that was not to be. The aggrieved voice of Courtland, the chauffeur, was heard in the hall.
"Now, then, do you want to be late?" he called. That reminded Angelica of her errand.
"Oh! Mrs. Geraldine said to ask you when did you want to use the car. She thought she’d go out."
Mrs. Russell stared at her in distress.
"Oh, pshaw! I never imagined she’d want it. Tell her, please, I’ll send Courtland back with it in an hour."
"I don’t think!" said Courtland. "She better not hold her breath waiting."
Even Angelica was aware that this was not the proper way for a chauffeur to address his lady. She was surprised that he wasn’t rebuked. She looked at him with an indignant glance, which he returned with one of the greatest scorn.