''Now,'' she said, ''can he light it? Has he a match? Oh, I don''t believe he does! And the clock struck the half, quite twenty minutes ago. He must go to Uncle soon. No, he does not have a match, in all those pockets ..."
She looked at me and wrung her hands, as if her heart was breaking.
I said, ''It won''t kill him, miss.''
''But poor Mr Rivers,'' she said again. ''Oh, Sue, if you are quick, you might take a match to him. Look, he is putting his cigarette away. How sad he looks now!''
We didn''t have any matches. Margaret kept them in her apron. When I told Maud that she said,
''Then take a candle! Take anything! Take a coal from the fire! Oh, can''t you be quicker?—Don''t say I sent you, mind!''
Can you believe she had me doing that?—tripping down two sets of stairs, with a lighted coal in a pair of fire-tongs, just so a man might have his morning smoke? Can you believe I did it? Well, I was a servant now, and must. Gentleman saw me stepping across the grass to him, saw what I carried, and laughed.
I said, All right. She has sent me down with it for you to light your cigarette from. Look glad, she is watching. But make a business of it, if you want.''
He did not move his head, but raised his eyes to her window.