“Then I should like to tell you that you have a very agreeable voice. Do you sing?”
“No'm—no, sir—no,” said Clementina, “I can't sing at all.”
“Ah, that's very interesting,” said Milray, “but it's not surprising. I wish I could see your face distinctly; I've a great curiosity about matching voices and faces; I must get Mrs. Milray to tell me how you look. Where did you pick up your pretty knack at reading? In school, here?”
“I don't know,” answered Clementina. “Do I read-the way you want?”
“Oh, perfectly. You let the meaning come through—when there is any.”
“Sometimes,” said Clementina ingenuously, “I read too fast; the children ah' so impatient when I'm reading to them at home, and they hurry me. But I can read a great deal slower if you want me to.”
“No, I'm impatient, too,” said Milray. “Are there many of them,—the children?”
“There ah' six in all.”
“And are you the oldest?”
“Yes,” said Clementina. She still felt it very blunt not to say sir, too, but she tried to make her tone imply the sir, as Mr. Gregory had bidden her.