"So you've brought little Joseph to see me at last?" said Roma.
"He has bothered my life out to bring him ever since you said he was to
be your porter some day."
"And why not? Gentlemen ought to call on the ladies, oughtn't they,
Joseph?"
And Joseph, whose curly poll had been hiding behind the leg of his
father's trousers, showed half of a face that was shining all over.
"See! See here--do you know who this is? This gentleman in the bust?"
"Uncle David," said the boy.
"What a clever boy you are, Joseph!"
"Doesn't want much cleverness to know that, though," said Bruno. "It's
wonderful! it's magnificent! And it will shut up all their damned ...
excuse me, miss, excuse me."
"And Joseph still intends to be a porter?"
"Dead set on it, and says he wouldn't change his profession to be a
king."
"Quite right, too! And now let us look at something a little birdie
brought me the other day. Come along, Joseph. Here it is. Down on your
knees, gentleman, and help me to drag it out. One--two--and away!"
From the knee-hole of the desk came a large cardboard box, and Joseph's
eyes glistened like big black beads.
"Now, what do you think is in this box, Joseph? Can't guess? Give it up?
Sure? Well, listen! Are you listening? Which do you think you would like
best--a porter's cocked hat, or a porter's long coat, or a porter's mace
with a gilt hat and a tassel?"
Joseph's face, which had gleamed at every item, clouded and cleared,
cleared and clouded at the cruel difficulty of choice, and finally
looked over at Bruno for help.
"Choose now--which?"
But Joseph only sidled over to his father, and whispered something which
Roma could not hear.
"What does he say?"
"He says it is his birthday on Wednesday," said Bruno.
"Bless him! He shall have them all, then," said Roma, and Joseph's legs
as well as his eyes began to dance.
The cords were cut, the box was opened, the wonderful hat and coat and
mace were taken out, and Joseph was duly invested. In the midst of this
ceremony Roma's black poodle came bounding into the room, and when
Joseph strutted out of the boudoir into the drawing-room the dog went
leaping and barking beside him.
"Dear little soul!" said Roma, looking after the child; but Bruno, who
was sitting with his head down, only answered with a groan.