Produced by David Widger
By William Dean Howells
Mrs. Lander went to a hotel in New York where she had been in the habitof staying with her husband, on their way South or North. The clerk knewher, and shook hands with her across the register, and said she couldhave her old rooms if she wanted them; the bell-boy who took up theirhand-baggage recalled himself to her; the elevator-boy welcomed her witha smile of remembrance.
Since she was already up, from coming off the sleeping-car, she had noexcuse for not going to breakfast like other people; and she went withClementina to the dining-room, where the head-waiter, who found themplaces, spoke with an outlandish accent, and the waiter who served themhad a parlance that seemed superficially English, but was inwardlysomething else; there was even a touch in the cooking of the familiardishes, that needed translation for the girl's inexperienced palate. Shewas finding a refuge in the strangeness of everything, when she wasstartled by the sound of a familiar voice calling, "Clementina Claxon!Well, I was sure all along it was you, and I determined I wouldn't standit another minute. Why, child, how you have changed! Why, I declare youare quite a woman! When did you come? How pretty you are!" Mrs. Milray tookClementina in her arms and kissed her in proof of her admiration beforethe whole breakfast room. She was very nice to Mrs. Lander, too, who,when Clementina introduced them, made haste to say that Clementina wasthere on a visit with her. Mrs. Milray answered that she envied her sucha visitor as Miss Claxon, and protested that she should steal her awayfor a visit to herself, if Mr. Milray was not so much in love with herthat it made her jealous. "Mr. Milray has to have his breakfast in hisroom," she explained to Clementina. "He's not been so well, since he losthis mother. Yes," she said, with decorous solemnity, "I'm still inmourning for her," and Clementina saw that she was in a tempered black."She died last year, and now I'm taking Mr. Milray abroad to see if itwon't cheer him up a little. Are you going South for the winter?" sheinquired, politely, of Mrs. Lander. "I wish I was going," she said, whenMrs. Lander guessed they should go, later on. "Well, you must come in andsee me all you can, Clementina; and I shall have the pleasure of callingupon you," she added to Mrs. Lander with state that was lost in thesoubrette-like volatility of her flight from them the next moment."Goodness, I forgot all about Mr. Milray's breakfast!" She ran back tothe table she had left on the other side of the room.
"Who is that, Clementina?" asked Mrs. Lander, on their way to theirrooms. Clementina explained as well as she could, and Mrs. Lander summedup her feeling in the verdict, "Well, she's a lady, if ever I saw a lady;and you don't see many of 'em, nowadays."
The girl remembered how Mrs. Milray had once before seemed very fond ofher, and had afterwards forgotten the pretty promises and professions shehad made her. But she went with Mrs. Lander to see her, and she saw Mr.Milray, too, for a little while. He seemed glad of their meeting, butstill depressed by the bereavement which Mrs. Milray supported almostwith gayety. When he left them she explained that he was a good deal awayfrom her, with his family, as she approved of his being, though she hadapparently no wish to join him in all the steps of the reconciliationwhich the mother's death had brought about among them. Sometimes hissisters came to the hotel to see her, but she amused herself perfectlywithout them, and she gave much more of her leisure to Clementi