“We’ll think about clothes when the time comes to buy some.”
S. Gedge, however, admitted to William privately that he had hopes of the niece. “But let me tell you this, boy: it’s asking for trouble to have a young female sleeping in the house. Old ones are bad enough, even when they sleep out; young ones sleeping in may be the very mischief.”
In fact, the old man deemed it wise to reinforce these observations with a solemn warning. “Understand, boy, there must be no carrying on between you and her.”
“Carrying on, sir!” Such innocence might have touched the heart of King Herod.
“That’s what I said. I can trust you; in some ways you hardly know you’re born; but with a woman, and a young one at that, it’s another pair o’ shoes. Women are simply the devil.”
William’s blank face showed a fleck of scarlet; yet the true inwardness of these Menander-like words were lost upon him; and he was rebuked for being a perfect fool in things that mattered. However, the arrangement was merely temporary. If the girl behaved herself, well and good; if she didn’t behave herself, niece or no niece, she would have to go. But—touching wood!—there was nothing to complain of so far.
William quite agreed, yet he dare not say as much to his master. In his opinion, there was no ground for comparison between the dethroned goddess of whom he had always been a little in awe, and the creature of grace and charm, of fine perception and feminine amenity who slept the other side the “studio” wall. For all that, in the sight of this young man, one aspect of the case was now a matter of concern.
“Miss June,” he said on the evening of the second day, “do you mind if I get up early to-morrow and do a few odd jobs about the house?”
“What sort of jobs?” Miss June’s air of suspicion was tinged with sternness. Now that she reigned in Mrs. Runciman’s stead she could not help feeling rather important.
“If you’ll show me where the brushes are kept, I’ll blacklead the kitchen grate.”