Meta Book

It was not quite ten o'clock when Ronald Surbiton rang the bell, and was
turned into the drawing-room to face an American aunt for the first time
in his life.
"Miss Schenectady?" said he, taking the proffered hand of the old lady and
then bowing slightly. He pronounced her name Schenectady, with a strong
accent on the penultimate syllable.
"Sche_nec_tady," corrected his hostess. "I expect you are Mr.
Surbiton."
"A--exactly so," said Ronald, in some embarrassment.
"Well, we are glad to see you in Boston, Mr. Surbiton." Miss Schenectady
resumed her seat, and Ronald sat down beside her, holding his hat in his
hand.
"Put your hat down," said the old lady. "What sort of a journey did you
have?"
"Very fair, thanks," said Ronald, depositing his hat on the floor beside
him, "in fact I believe we came over uncommonly quick for the time of
year. How is"--
"What steamer did you come by?" interrupted Miss Schenectady.
"The Gallia. She is one of the Cunarders. But as I was going to ask"--
"Yes, an old boat, I expect.


Pages:
119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143