"I am going out to attend a meeting, and I will show you where one of
the girls, with whom I have seen Phenie, lives. You may find her there
now."
The young man's face brightened a little. He expressed his thanks, and
waited for me on the landing.
The house where Miss Mullin boarded was only a few squares away. It was
one of a row of discouraged-looking houses, which had started out with
the intention of being genteel but had long ago given up the idea.
It was lighted up cheerfully, however, we saw on approaching, and a
hack stood before the door. I indicated to my companion that this was
the house, and would have turned away, but at that moment the door
opened, and two girls came out and descended the steps. The light from
the hall, as well as that of a street-lamp, fell full upon them. There
was no mistaking Miss Mullin, and her companion was Phenie,--in a gay
little hat set saucily back from her face, the foolish, pretty laugh
ringing from her lips.
The two girls tripped lightly across the pavement toward the carriage.
As they did so, the door was opened from within (the occupant, for
reasons best known to himself, preferring not to alight), and a
well-clad, masculine arm was gallantly extended. Miss Mullin, giggling
effusively, was about to enter, followed close by Phenie, when, with a
smothered cry, Dockett darted forward and placed himself between them
and the carriage.
"Phenie," he said, his voice shaking a little. "Phenie, where was you
a-goin'?"
The young girl started back, confused.
"Law, Columbus!" she faltered, in a scared, faint voice.
In the meantime, the man in the carriage put his face out of the door,
and eyed the intruder, for an instant, arrogantly. Then, affecting to
ignore his presence altogether, he turned toward the two girls with a
slightly impatient air, saying, in an indescribably offensive tone:
"Come, ladies, come. What are you stopping for?"
Dockett, who had been holding Phenie's little hand speechlessly, let it
fall, and turned toward the carriage excitedly.
"Miss Angel is stoppin' to speak to _me_, sir," he said. "Have you got
anything to say ag'inst it?"
The occupant of the carriage stared haughtily at him, broke into a
short laugh, and turned again toward the girls.
Dockett, pushing his hat down upon his head, took a step nearer. The
gentleman, after another glance, drew back discreetly, saying, in a
nonchalant manner:
"Come, Miss Nettie. We shall be late."
"I suppose you're not going with us, then, Miss Angel?" said Miss
Mullin, with a toss of her plumed hat.
Dockett turned, and looked Phenie steadily in the face.
"_Be_ you goin' with them?" he asked, in a low voice.
"N--no!" the girl faltered, faintly. "I'll go with you, Columbus."
A muffled remark of a profane nature was heard to proceed from the
carriage, the door was violently closed, and the vehicle rolled rapidly
away.
I had kept discreetly aloof, although an interested spectator of the
scene. Phenie, after one swift glance in my direction, had not raised
her eyes again.
"We'll go with you where you're goin', ma'am," said Dockett, as the
carriage disappeared, but I would not permit this.
"Well, good evenin', ma'am," he said; "I'm a thousand times obliged to
you--good evenin'."
With an indescribable look into Phenie's pale, down-cast face,--a look
made up of pain, tenderness and reproach,--he put her hand through his
arm, and they went away.
As might have been expected, Phenie avoided me, after this, more
carefully than ever. I was glad that she did so. I was also glad when,
a week or two later, Mrs. Angel presented herself, in a towering state
of indignation, to inform me that Phenie had received her discharge.
In vain I reminded her that Phenie's position had been, from the
beginning, a temporary one.
"I don't keer!" she persisted. "I'd like ter know what difference
it would 'a' made to the Government--jess that little bit o' money!
An' me a-needin' of it so! Why couldn't they have discharged some o'
them women as sets all day on them velvet carpets an' cheers, a-doin'
nothin' but readin' story-papers? Phenie's seen 'em a-doin' of it, time
an' ag'in--an' she a-workin' at a old greasy machine!"
In vain I endeavored to prove that no injustice had been done. Mrs.
Angel's attitude toward the United States Government remains, to this
day, inflexibly hostile.
"Ef Columbus had let alone interferin' between Phenie an' them that was
intendin' well by her, I reckon she'd 'a' been settin' on one o' them
velvet cheers herself by this time," she remarked, mysteriously, "or
a-doin' better still."