“I’ll take your word for it,” returned Claudia as Fay energetically seized a brush and commenced to brush her hair.
“Oh! bother!” she said, stopping short, “and I want those curls. Madame Rose is a blighter all right. She promised them for to-day. Well, Polly will have to rake those other curls over and make them presentable.” She went to the door and shouted, “Polly! Polly! come here quick.”
A red-haired girl came running in, her hands all wet and soapsuddy. “Miss Fay, I’m just washing your stockings.”
“Leave ’em and come and dish up these curls. That old beast hasn’t sent my new set. Look, Polly, this is Mr. Jack’s sister. Isn’t she lovely?”
The red-haired girl stared at Claudia with her greeny-brown eyes. Claudia had never been inspected by a servant in such a manner before. Her lips twitched, but she assisted Polly by looking straight at her.
“She ain’t much like the Capting, is she?” Polly said in strong Cockney. “But then, I ain’t a bit like my brother. He’s in the army too. I always say as brothers and sisters——”
“Don’t chatter so much. Take those curls and vanish.” Fay waved her small hand imperiously, and Polly, grabbing a bunch of curls, went out. “We don’t want her in here listening to us, do we?” said Fay confidentially. “Not but that Polly knows most everything. She was on the halls once herself—doing small stunts with an acrobat—and she got rheumatic fever. My mother saved her life and kept her going for goodness knows how long. When mar died, she came to me as a sort of dresser. And she runs everything here.” She waved her hand round the apartment. “The tradesmen don’t do her. As far me, I’m no good at housekeeping. Don’t know a chicken from a turkey. Of course, Jack says she isn’t smart enough. He says he wants me to have some proper servants. But, what’s the trouble? I’m comfortable, and that’s everything, isn’t it?”
“The best of servants can only make you comfortable,” conceded Claudia, looking at the littered apartment. There was a cup and saucer on the dressing-table, and the spoon was on the floor. Some biscuits and an orange were side by side with a powder-puff and a scent-spray. One satin slipper rested on the pin-cushion, and a pair of silk stockings were thrown over the mirror, which had enormous wings and occupied a large amount of the available space. Fay was busily putting up her hair as she talked.
“You know, I’m awfully gone on your brother. I never met anyone like him before.” Now she was energetically rubbing cold cream all over her neck and arms. “I like to make up at home. It’s much more comfortable. Those dressing-rooms are so draughty. Have you ever seen me? But of course you have. I suppose everybody has. I top the bill at most of the halls now. And I make a row when I don’t. Do you like my turn?”