THE QUALITY OF PARKER I
So far I have been very full, I know, and verisimilitude has been my watchword rather than the true affidavit¹ style. But if I have made it clear to the reader just how the Sea Lady landed and just how it was possible for her to land and become a member of human society without any considerable excitement on the part of that society, such poor pains as I have taken to tint² and shadow and embellish³ the facts at my disposal will not have been taken in vain. She positively⁴ and quietly settled down with the Buntings. Within a fortnight she had really settled down so thoroughly⁵ that, save for her exceptional[91] beauty and charm and the occasional faint touches of something a little indefinable in her smile, she had become a quite passable and credible⁶ human being. She was a cripple, indeed, and her lower limb was most pathetically swathed and put in a sort of case, but it was quite generally understood—I am afraid at Mrs. Bunting’s initiative—that presently they—Mrs. Bunting said “they,” which was certainly almost as far or even a little farther than legitimate⁷ prevarication⁸ may go—would be as well as ever.
 
“Of course,” said Mrs. Bunting, “she will never be able to bicycle again——”
 
That was the sort of glamour⁹ she threw about it.
 
II
In Parker it is indisputable that the Sea Lady found—or at least had found for her by Mrs. Bunting—a treasure of[92] the richest sort. Parker was still fallaciously young, but she had been maid to a lady from India who had been in a “case” and had experienced and overcome cross-examination. She had also been deceived by a young man, whom she had fancied greatly, only to find him walking out with another—contrary to her inflexible¹⁰ sense of correctness—in the presence of which all other things are altogether vain. Life she had resolved should have no further surprises for her. She looked out on its (largely improper) pageant¹¹ with an expression of alert impartiality¹² in her hazel eyes, calm, doing her specific duty, and entirely¹³ declining to participate further. She always kept her elbows down by her side and her hands always just in contact, and it was impossible for the most powerful imagination to conceive her under any circumstances as being anything but absolutely straight and clean and neat. And[93] her voice was always under all circumstances low and wonderfully distinct—just to an infinitesimal degree indeed “mincing.”
 
Mrs. Bunting had been a little nervous when it came to the point. It was Mrs. Bunting of course who engaged her, because the Sea Lady was so entirely without experience. But certainly Mrs. Bunting’s nervousness was thrown away.
 
“You understand,” said Mrs. Bunting, taking a plunge¹⁴ at it, “that—that she is an invalid¹⁵.”
 
“I didn’t, Mem,” replied Parker respectfully, and evidently quite willing to understand anything as part of her duty in this world.
 
“In fact,” said Mrs. Bunting, rubbing the edge of the tablecloth¹⁶ daintily with her gloved finger and watching the operation with interest, “as a matter of fact, she has a mermaid’s tail.”[94]
 
“Mermaid’s tail! Indeed, Mem! And is it painful at all?”
 
“Oh, dear, no, it involves no inconvenience—nothing. Except—you understand, there is a need of—discretion.”
 
“Of course, Mem,” said Parker, as who should say, “there always is.”
 
“We particularly don’t want the servants——”
 
“The lower servants— No, Mem.”
 
“You understand?” and Mrs. Bunting looked up again and regarded Parker calmly.
 
“Precisely, Mem!” said Parker, with a face unmoved, and so they came to the question of terms. “It all passed off most satisfactorily,” said Mrs. Bunting, taking a deep breath at the mere¹⁷ memory of that moment. And it is clear that Parker was quite of her opinion.
 
She was not only discreet¹⁸ but really clever and handy. From the very outset[95] she grasped the situation, unostentatiously but very firmly. It was Parker who contrived¹⁹ the sort of violin case for It, and who made the tea gown extension that covered the case’s arid²⁰ contours. It was Parker who suggested an invalid’s chair for use indoors and in the garden, and a carrying chair for the staircase. Hitherto Fred Bunting had been on hand, at last e............