THE LITTLE RUSSIAN SERVANT.
THE LITTLE RUSSIAN
SERVANT.
BY
HENRI GREVILLE.
Neely's Booklet Series. No. 24, June 12, 1899. Issued weekly.
$5.00 a year. Entered as second-class matter
at New York Post Office.
F. TENNYSON NEELY,
PUBLISHER.
LONDON. NEW YORK. CHICAGO.
THE
LITTLE RUSSIAN SERVANT.
"Who's that?" said the countess,stopping in front of a younggirl of fifteen or sixteen, bentover an embroidery frame. Theyoung girl rose, prostrated herselfthrice before her mistress,then, getting up, remained standing,[Pg 6]her hands hanging by her side,her head slightly bent forwardunder the investigating gaze ofthe countess, who through hereyeglass closely scrutinized her.
"It is the new girl, your highness,"answered the head lady'smaid, coming forward with theair of importance that thirtyyears' employment gives to nomatter what functionary. "She is[Pg 7]the daughter of Foma, of thevillage of Ikonine. She is comein her turn to pay her father'sobrok—he is in Moscow."
"These peasant girls can donothing," said the countess, witha wearied air: "what do you expectto get out of this one?"
"She doesn't embroider badly,your highness; pray look yourself.She can be put to the [Pg 8]embroideries—notto the ground, butto the trimmings. This is forthe toilet table of Madame laComtesse."
The noble lady, who couldhardly see, being short-sightedfrom her birth, examined the embroideryframe so closely that thetip of her nose grazed the cloth.
"That's not bad," she said."Come here, little girl."[Pg 9]
The little girl advanced, and thecountess inspected her as minutelyas she had done the embroidery.
"How pretty she is! What'syour name?"
"Mavra."
The word came like a breathfrom the rosy lips.
"You must speak louder if youwant us to hear you," said thehead lady's maid angrily.[Pg 10]
Mavra turned her large, blue,startled eyes toward her, let themdrop, and said nothing.
"Sit down to your work," saidthe countess, amused at her newtoy. With a quick, gracefulmovement, the young girl resumedher seat on the wooden chair,and the needle, firmly held betweenher agile fingers, went inand out of the stuff with that[Pg 11]short, sharp noise that stimulatesthe action of the hand.
"That's right, you may goon," said the countess, her nervesirritated by the regularity of themovement.
Then, turning her back uponthe young girl and trailing theheavy, sumptuous folds of herdressing-gown along the carefully-washedpine-wood floor, she[Pg 12]disappeared through the door,which was respectfully closed afterher by the head lady's maid.The countess, an accomplishedhouse-mistress, made a practiceof paying a daily visit to thisroom, which was reserved for thewomen of her service. Mavrawas left alone in the workroom,a large, well-lighted chamber,furnished simply with tables and[Pg 13]chairs for the use of the innumerablewomen and girls invariablyattached to the serv