wreck Brad Graybar's mill!
At dinner I was to be seated beside Justin McKay, as I had guessed I would be. We had fourteen persons, not counting our family, at the table, but, to my delight, Dr. McKay was not yet there. During the first course I could not resist giving a frosty smile to Father, down at the end of the table, as my eyes took in the empty seat beside me. The best-laid plans!
But then the doctor's lean figure appeared at the dining room doorway, being directed to his seat by our butler. A momentary hush fell over the group as Justin sat down while Father greeted him. Justin waved their attentions aside with a few quick words of explanation and bade everyone not to mind his being late. After he had seated himself, at my right, the others at the table retuned to their conversations and he began talking with me in a casual, easy manner that put me surprisingly off my guard.
'I suppose you're done with school now for the summertime,' he remarked. 'What do you read now on your own time?' He cocked his head and looked at me out of the corner of his eye as he applied his spoon to the fruit cup. His blue eyes had a twinkle to them up close, and there were little lines at the corner of his eyelids when he smiled. Was this the snobbish know-it-all we had heard about?
'Oh, nothing much.' I was wondering how old he was - thirty-two, perhaps? - and the words just came out by themselves. 'Just a cheap novel I bought to read on the train coming home.' As soon as I said the words I winced inwardly, but then I told myself that it did not matter. I wanted to make a bad impression on Justin McKay. It would serve Father right!
'That so?' he continued amiably. 'I thought you'd say you'd been reading poetry. Don't you read poetry? I thought all the well-off young ladies read poetry.'
'I didn't say I didn't - just not now.' I found myself smiling.
'Haven't unpacked those slender little volumes yet, eh? You mean you like to read poetry?'
I allowed that I did, occasionally. Then I asked him if he read poetry, too, and he laughed.
'Only to fall asleep - wasn't that what you were expecting? No? Well, to tell you the truth, I've been known to read a verse or two in my time. In fact, I've even seen it do some good.' He went on, lightly. 'Actually, that's why I asked you in the first place about what you liked to read.'
'I don't understand.'
'Have to let me finish first,' he admonished, his eyes still laughing. 'Now, you see, down at the clinic we have quite a few people who appreciate a good story or a bit of poetry to take their minds off their troubles - and they've got troubles aplenty, I'll guarantee you. But the problem is that most of them can't read.'
'So you need someone to read to them.'
'We had someone. Nice lady, but she moved west last week and the patients miss her fiercely. Do you think you'd have time? They'd appreciate it. You can depend on that. Just an hour or two every day.'
I hesitated.
'Oh, come on, you can do it. The hard part will be getting away after just an hour or two. Come on, you'll do them a lot of good.'
'Well, I guess I could try it and see if ...'
From across the table Amanda Scott interrupted. 'Excuse me, Dr. McKay.' She leaned towards him, her green eyes bright, her thin face and mouth set in a determined smile. 'You know, I'm Amanda Scott, Reverend Scott's daughter, and I couldn't help overhearing - about the poor people at your clinic, I mean.'
He nodded politely. 'I'm delighted to meet you.'
'Well,' she continued, and suddenly I realized that Amanda was subtly copying Dr. McKay's slight Southern drawl as she spoke, 'I have had some experience with elocution and all, and I'd be delighted to come to your clinic and read' - she looked at me before she finished, and then back to him - 'if there's a need.'
He raised his eyebrows and smiled slightly. 'Well, we'd be most happy to have you, both of you. Perhaps
At dinner I was to be seated beside Justin McKay, as I had guessed I would be. We had fourteen persons, not counting our family, at the table, but, to my delight, Dr. McKay was not yet there. During the first course I could not resist giving a frosty smile to Father, down at the end of the table, as my eyes took in the empty seat beside me. The best-laid plans!
But then the doctor's lean figure appeared at the dining room doorway, being directed to his seat by our butler. A momentary hush fell over the group as Justin sat down while Father greeted him. Justin waved their attentions aside with a few quick words of explanation and bade everyone not to mind his being late. After he had seated himself, at my right, the others at the table retuned to their conversations and he began talking with me in a casual, easy manner that put me surprisingly off my guard.
'I suppose you're done with school now for the summertime,' he remarked. 'What do you read now on your own time?' He cocked his head and looked at me out of the corner of his eye as he applied his spoon to the fruit cup. His blue eyes had a twinkle to them up close, and there were little lines at the corner of his eyelids when he smiled. Was this the snobbish know-it-all we had heard about?
'Oh, nothing much.' I was wondering how old he was - thirty-two, perhaps? - and the words just came out by themselves. 'Just a cheap novel I bought to read on the train coming home.' As soon as I said the words I winced inwardly, but then I told myself that it did not matter. I wanted to make a bad impression on Justin McKay. It would serve Father right!
'That so?' he continued amiably. 'I thought you'd say you'd been reading poetry. Don't you read poetry? I thought all the well-off young ladies read poetry.'
'I didn't say I didn't - just not now.' I found myself smiling.
'Haven't unpacked those slender little volumes yet, eh? You mean you like to read poetry?'
I allowed that I did, occasionally. Then I asked him if he read poetry, too, and he laughed.
'Only to fall asleep - wasn't that what you were expecting? No? Well, to tell you the truth, I've been known to read a verse or two in my time. In fact, I've even seen it do some good.' He went on, lightly. 'Actually, that's why I asked you in the first place about what you liked to read.'
'I don't understand.'
'Have to let me finish first,' he admonished, his eyes still laughing. 'Now, you see, down at the clinic we have quite a few people who appreciate a good story or a bit of poetry to take their minds off their troubles - and they've got troubles aplenty, I'll guarantee you. But the problem is that most of them can't read.'
'So you need someone to read to them.'
'We had someone. Nice lady, but she moved west last week and the patients miss her fiercely. Do you think you'd have time? They'd appreciate it. You can depend on that. Just an hour or two every day.'
I hesitated.
'Oh, come on, you can do it. The hard part will be getting away after just an hour or two. Come on, you'll do them a lot of good.'
'Well, I guess I could try it and see if ...'
From across the table Amanda Scott interrupted. 'Excuse me, Dr. McKay.' She leaned towards him, her green eyes bright, her thin face and mouth set in a determined smile. 'You know, I'm Amanda Scott, Reverend Scott's daughter, and I couldn't help overhearing - about the poor people at your clinic, I mean.'
He nodded politely. 'I'm delighted to meet you.'
'Well,' she continued, and suddenly I realized that Amanda was subtly copying Dr. McKay's slight Southern drawl as she spoke, 'I have had some experience with elocution and all, and I'd be delighted to come to your clinic and read' - she looked at me before she finished, and then back to him - 'if there's a need.'
He raised his eyebrows and smiled slightly. 'Well, we'd be most happy to have you, both of you. Perhaps
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