Drusilla with a Million
A light tap was heard on the door of John's sitting-room.
"John, are you still up? Can I come in?"
Before John could answer, Drusilla was in the room.
"John, I'm ashamed of you! Has this been goin' on all the time, and I didn't know
it. It's past twelve."
John said apologetically: "It isn't late, is it, Drusilla? I didn't think of the time."
"Late! It's past twelve, I tell you, and you had ought to be in bed gettin' your
beauty sleep. Nights was made for sleepin', John Brierly." John shook his head.
"Oh, no, Drusilla; nights were made for reading. There is no joy like a long quiet
evening and Carlyle, for example, for company."
"He couldn't be company for me at this time o' night. But you don't ask me nothin'
about my dinner party, my first dinner party, and my dance."
John looked longingly at his book, then carefully placed a marker in it and closed
"Now don't sigh, John. I'm goin' to tell you about it whether you want to hear it or
not. I know you'd rather read, but I been in society and I must talk."
"I'm only anxious to hear all about it, Drusilla."
Drusilla pulled off her gloves and sat down in an easy chair before the fire.
"John, there's no more guile in you than in a stick of molasses candy, but you're
like a sermon, comfortin', if sort of uninteresting, and I can talk at you if I can't talk
with you. Ask me all about it, git me started somehow. I'm as full of conversation
as an egg is of meat, but I don't know where to begin."
"Did you enjoy the dinner?"
"Did I enjoy the dinner! That's like a man to think about the vittles first. I never
thought of them. They was numerous and plenty, one thing after another and too
many forks. I couldn't help wonderin' how they ever washed all the dishes."
"Where was it, Drusilla? I don't remember if you spoke of it to me."
"John Brierly, you'll be the death of me yet. You don't think you heard me speak
of it, and I didn't talk of nothin' else for three days, tryin' to make up my mind
whether I'd go or not, only Mrs. Thornton was so particular about me comin'."
"Yes, I do remember hearing you speak of it. It was at the Thorntons'."
"Well, it's about time you remember. Yes, it was a dinner dance-- whatever that
is. There was about forty people to dinner and a lot of young people come in
afterwards to dance. I wish you could 'a' seen it, John.
"A butler about like James met us in the hall and we took off our wraps in a room
and went into the parlor. 'Tisn't as big as our'n and I was a little late and they was
all there, standin' around, and Mis' Thornton introduced me to a lot of people, and
then a man handed around somethin' in glasses--cocktails I think she said;
anyway it tasted like hair oil--and little pieces of toast with spoiled fish eggs on
'em; arid we et 'em standin' up. I thought I'd gag, but I said, 'Drusilla Doane, be a
sport and do everything that other people do.' And I done it, although to-morrow
I'll quite likely have to stay in bed. Finally everybody give their arm to some one
else, at least the men did, and an old man come to me and I took his arm and we