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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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304 upstairs, and was now intent on fastening his apron. ‘Is Madame Mantalini in?’ faltered Kate. ‘Not often out at this time, miss,’ replied the man in a tone which rendered “Miss,” something more offensive than “My dear.” ‘Can I see her?’ asked Kate. ‘Eh?’ replied the man, holding the door in his hand, and honouring the inquirer with a stare and a broad grin, ‘Lord, no.’ ‘I came by her own appointment,’ said Kate; ‘I am--I am--to be employed here.’ ‘Oh! you should have rung the worker’s bell,’ said the footman, touching the handle of one in the door-post. ‘Let me see, though, I forgot--Miss Nickleby, is it?’ ‘Yes,’ replied Kate. ‘You’re to walk upstairs then, please,’ said the man. ‘Madame Mantalini wants to see you--this way--take care of these things on the floor.’ Cautioning her, in these terms, not to trip over a heterogeneous litter of pastry-cook’s trays, lamps, waiters full of glasses, and piles of rout seats which were strewn about the hall, plainly bespeaking a late party on the previous night, the man led the way to the second story, and ushered Kate into a back-room, communicating by folding-doors with the apartment in which she had first seen the mistress of the establishment. ‘If you’ll wait here a minute,’ said the man, ‘I’ll tell her presently.’ Having made this promise with much affability, he retired and left Kate alone. There was not much to amuse in the room; of which the most attractive feature was, a half-length portrait in oil, of Mr Mantalini, whom the artist had depicted scratching his head in an easy |
