“I am afraid this is serious,” said Mrs. Plunket, with chilling dignity. “I have been misinformed.”
A pause ensued, in which Miss Perry hoped in vain for a little more refreshment.
“It is an awfully nice day, isn’t it?” said Miss Perry, conversationally.
Mrs. Plunket was too much preoccupied with the external aspect of the latest thing in housemaids to pay the least attention to the weather.
“A mistake appears to have been made,” said that lady, acidly. “I am informed that your name is Perry.”
Miss Perry confirmed that information with modest yet charming friendliness.
“What is your first name?” said Mrs. Plunket.
Miss Perry slowly opened her blue eyes to a width that was really extraordinary, and gave a wise little shake to her mane, which was the color of daffodils.
“My name is Araminta,” said she, with a drawl that was perfectly ludicrous, “but they call me Goose because I am rather a Sil-lay.”
Mrs. Plunket sat bolt upright. Her countenance was the picture of horror. The latest thing in housemaids was too much for her. She flung up her gaunt arms with a tragic gesture.