And tiny Phyllis, in
a childless home, became a petted darling. When my great
loneliness came upon me, it was a solace to have the little dainty
prattling thing to spend an occasional hour in my company. Gedge,
an excellent workman, set up as a contractor. He took my modest
home under his charge. A leaky tap, a broken pane, a new set of
bookshelves, a faulty drainpipe--all were matters for Gedge. I
abhorred his politics but I admired his work, and I continued,
with Mrs. Marigold's motherly aid, to make much of Phyllis.
Gedge, for queer motives of his own, sent her to as good a school
as he could afford, as a matter of fact an excellent school, one
where she met girls of a superior social class and learned
educated speech and graceful manners. Her holidays, poor child,
were somewhat dreary, for her father, an anti-social creature, had
scarce a friend in the town. Save for here and there an invitation
to tea from Betty or myself, she did not cross the threshold of a
house in Wellingsford. But to my house, all through her schooldays
and afterwards, Phyllis came, and on such occasions Mrs. Marigold
prepared teas of the organic lusciousness dear to the heart of a
healthy girl.
Pages:
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203