my footsteps. The splashing noise
grew louder. The kitchen door was closed. I gently opened it. As I did
so a wild scream rent the air. There stood Gerda Lyberg in--in--my pen
declines to write it--a simple unsophisticated birthday dress, taking an
ingenuous reluctant bath in the "stationary tubs," with the plates, and
dishes, and dinner things grouped artistically around her!
The instant she saw me she modestly seized a dish-towel and shouted at
the top of her voice. The kitchen was filled with the steam from the hot
water. 'Venus arising' looked nebulous, and mystic. I beat a hasty
retreat, aghast at the revelation, and almost fell against Letitia, who,
dropping her conversation book, came to see what had happened.
"She's bathing!" I gasped, "in the kitchen--among the plates--near the
soup--"
"Never!" cried Letitia. Then, melodramatically: "Let me pass. Stand
aside, Archie. I'll go and see. Perhaps--perhaps--you had better come
with me."
"Letitia," I gurgled, "I'm shocked! She has nothing on but a
dish-towel."
Letitia paused irresolutely for a second, and going into the kitchen
shut the door. The splashing noise ceased. I heard the sound of voices,
or rather of a voice--Letitia's! Evidently she had forgotten Swedish,
and such remarks as "If the wind be favorable, we shall be at
Gothenburg in forty hours." I listened attentively, and could not even
hear her say "We will visit the Church of the Holy Ghost at two." It is
strange how the stress of circumstances alters the complexion of a
conversation book! All the evening she had studied Swedish, and yet
suddenly confronted by a Swedish lady bathing in our kitchen,
dish-toweled but unashamed, all she could find to say was "How
disgusting!" and "How disgraceful!" in English!
"You see," said Letitia, when she emerged, "she is just a simple peasant
girl, and only needs to be told. It is very horrid, of course."
"And unappetizing!" I chimed in.
"Of course--certainly unappetizing. I couldn't think of anything Swedish
to say, but I said several things in English. She was dreadfully sorry
that you had seen her, and never contemplated such a possibility. After
all, Archie, bathing is not a crime."
"And we were hunting for a clean slate," I suggested satirically. "Do
you think, Letitia, that she also takes a cold bath in the morning,
among the bacon and eggs, and things?"
"That is enough," said Letitia sternly. "The episode need not serve as
an excuse for i
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