Lucy Read Online Free PDF Page A

one look, she never showed that she considered Lucy to be a human being.
    On the first night of the house party she realized that the past week had been a holiday compared to the work to come. The great dinner party was over and the kitchens were cleared, but the privileged upper servants had to wait in the Pug’s Parlor until their masters and mistresses deigned to go to bed. And that, as MacGregor gloomily informed Lucy, could well be four in the morning. The small parlor was stuffy and crowded, their ranks having been swollen by the visiting servants.
    Lucy sat putting tiny stitches into a froth of lace and cambric as she listened to the hum of conversation. What a lot of affairs and liaisons seemed to go on under the cold facade presented to the world by their masters. The servants were naturally involved, many of them having to make sure that their lords and ladies found the right bedrooms for their nightly assignations.
    MacGregor occasionally roused himself to put in a “Now, now. You should not be talking like that,” while all the while his whiskey-bright eyes gleamed with amusement.
    At last he stretched and looked at the clock. “It’s two in the morning,” he said. “Time to take in the whiskies and sandwiches.”
    “And
then
can we go to bed?” asked Lucy, trying to focus her weary eyes on her stitching.
    “Not tonight,” said MacGregor. “They’re going to be late. They’re playing baccarat.”
    Lucy looked up, surprised. “I thought that game was against the law!”
    “Well, it is,” said MacGregor, “but they play it just the same. Tell you what, Lucy, I’ll teach you to play once I’ve seen that they’ve all had their late supper.”
    Lucy opened her mouth to protest but MacGregor had already left. There was so much sewing to be done. Her arms and her eyes ached. Perhaps playing cards would keep her awake.
    MacGregor had not forgotten his offer and, when he returned, he started rummaging in a drawer until he found a pack of playing cards. He signaled to Lucy to join him at the table.
    He explained that it was all very simple. The banker—who would be himself—dealt one to the player and one to himself, then another to the player and then another to himself. The one who had nine points, or the nearest to nine, was the winner. Ten, jack, queen, and king all counted as zero. If the two cards added up to, say, fifteen, that would become five, eleven would become one, and so on. If one had two cards which added up to less than nine, say three or four, one could choose a third card but never more than three cards in all.
    Lucy’s head was beginning to ache. A broken gas mantle on the bracket over the fireplace hissed maddeningly. The windows were tightly closed and the air was stuffy and close. “Then I suppose I have won,” she said indifferently, throwing a five and a four down on the table.
    “Well, now, that’s beginner’s luck if effer wass,” said MacGregor, his accent becoming more Highland in his excitement. “Let’s play another game.”
    Lucy nodded wearily and again picked up her two cards. She yawned. “This is a very boring game, Mr. MacGregor,” she said, and threw down a six and a three in front of the butler’s astonished eyes.
    “Well, I
neffer
did!” gasped the butler as the other servants crowded around.
    The next game Lucy produced a one and an eight, too tired to register the excitement her phenomenal luck was creating. They all pressed her to try again. This time it was a six and a two but she still beat MacGregor who had only five. One after the other, they began to play against her. Lucy won every time. Miss Jones rapidly crossed herself and twitched as hard as she had ever done.
    At last the jangling bells broke up the party and all fled to their posts. MacGregor caught Lucy by the arm. “Come to the kitchens after Lady Angela’s in bed. I’d have a wee word with you.”
    Too tired to remonstrate, Lucy fled up the stairs in time to assist Lady Angela