recognitions of more or less dignity passed between them and Clementina.
The place was now shut against guests, and the head-waiter was having it
put in order for the one o'clock dinner. As they came near him, Mrs.
Atwell introduced him to Clementina, and he behaved deferentially, as if
she were some young lady visitor whom Mrs. Atwell was showing the
improvements, but he seemed harassed and impatient, as if he were anxious
about his duties, and eager to get at them again. He was a handsome
little fellow, with hair lighter than Clementina's and a sanguine
complexion, and the color coming and going.

"He's smaht," said Mrs. Atwell, when they had left him--he held the
dining-room door open for them, and bowed them out. "I don't know but he
worries almost too much. That'll wear off when he gets things runnin' to
suit him. He's pretty p'tic'la'. Now I'll show you how they've made the
office over, and built in a room for Mr. Atwell behind it."

The landlord welcomed Clementina as if she had been some acceptable class
of custom, and when the tall young clerk came in to ask him something,
and Mrs. Atwell said, "I want to introduce you to Miss Claxon, Mr. Fane,"
the clerk smiled down upon her from the height of his smooth, acquiline
young face, which he held bent encouragingly upon one side.

"Now, I want you should come in and see where I live, a minute," said
Mrs. Atwell. She took the girl from the clerk, and led her to the
official housekeeper's room which she said had been prepared for her so
that folks need not keep running to her in her private room where she
wanted to be alone with her children, when she was there. "Why, you a'n't
much moa than a child youaself, Clem, and here I be talkin' to you as if
you was a mother in Israel. How old ah' you, this summa? Time does go
so!"