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The Parlor Car By: William Dean Howells (1837-1920) |
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THE PARLOR CAR by William D. Howells
SCENE: A Parlor Car on the New York Central Railroad. It is late
afternoon in the early autumn, with a cloudy sunset threatening rain.
The car is unoccupied save by a gentleman, who sits fronting one of
the windows, with his feet in another chair; a newspaper lies across
his lap; his hat is drawn down over his eyes, and he is apparently
asleep. The rear door of the car opens, and the conductor enters
with a young lady, heavily veiled, the porter coming after with her
wraps and travelling bags. The lady's air is of mingled anxiety and
desperation, with a certain fierceness of movement. She casts a
careless glance over the empty chairs. CONDUCTOR: "Here's your ticket, madam. You can have any of the
places you like here, glancing at the unconscious gentleman, and
then at the young lady, "if you prefer, you can go and take that
seat in the forward car." MISS LUCY GALBRAITH: "Oh, I can't ride backwards. I'll stay here,
please. Thank you." The porter places her things in a chair by a
window, across the car from the sleeping gentleman, and she throws
herself wearily into the next seat, wheels round in it, and lifting
her veil gazes absently out at the landscape. Her face, which is
very pretty, with a low forehead shadowed by thick blond hair, shows
the traces of tears. She makes search in her pocket for her
handkerchief, which she presses to her eyes. The conductor,
lingering a moment, goes out. PORTER: "I'll be right here, at de end of de cah, if you should
happen to want anything, miss," making a feint of arranging the
shawls and satchels. "Should you like some dese things hung up?
Well, dey'll be jus' as well in de chair. We's pretty late dis
afternoon; more'n four hours behin' time. Ought to been into Albany
'fore dis. Freight train off de track jus' dis side o' Rochester,
an' had to wait. Was you going to stop at Schenectady, miss?" MISS GALBRAITH, absently: "At Schenectady?" After a pause, "Yes." PORTER: "Well, that's de next station, and den de cahs don't stop
ag'in till dey git to Albany. Anything else I can do for you now,
miss?" MISS GALBRAITH: "No, no, thank you, nothing." The Porter hesitates,
takes off his cap, and scratches his head with a murmur of
embarrassment. Miss Galbraith looks up at him inquiringly and then
suddenly takes out her porte monnaie, and fees him. PORTER: "Thank you, miss, thank you. If you want anything at all,
miss, I'm right dere at de end of de cah." He goes out by the narrow
passage way beside the smaller enclosed parlor. Miss Galbraith looks
askance at the sleeping gentleman, and then, rising, goes to the
large mirror, to pin her veil, which has become loosened from her
hat. She gives a little start at sight of the gentleman in the
mirror, but arranges her head gear, and returning to her place looks
out of the window again. After a little while she moves about
uneasily in her chair, then leans forward, and tries to raise her
window; she lifts it partly up, when the catch slips from her
fingers, and the window falls shut again with a crash. MISS GALBRAITH: "Oh, DEAR, how provoking! I suppose I must call the
porter." She rises from her seat, but on attempting to move away she
finds that the skirt of her polonaise has been caught in the falling
window. She pulls at it, and then tries to lift the window again,
but the cloth has wedged it in, and she cannot stir it. "Well, I
certainly think this is beyond endurance! Porter! Ah, Porter! Oh,
he'll never hear me in the racket that these wheels are making! I
wish they'd stop, I" The gentleman stirs in his chair, lifts his
head, listens, takes his feet down from the other seat, rises
abruptly, and comes to Miss Galbraith's side. MR. ALLEN RICHARDS: "Will you allow me to open the window for you?"
Starting back, "Miss Galbraith!" MISS GALBRAITH: "Al Mr... Continue reading book >>
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