Then he laughed--a boyish shout of laughter which brought a cottager to the nearest window to peep over the pots of fuchsias and geraniums blooming profusely against the diamond panes.
“Say,” he apologized, “don't be mad because I laughed. I'm laughing at myself as much as at anything. It's a way of saying that they might think I was 'butting in' too much--pushing in where I wasn't asked. See? I said they might think I was Mr. Butt-in-ski! It's just a bit of fool slang. You're not mad, are you?”
“Oh, no!” she said. “Dear me! no. It is very funny, of course. I'm afraid I'm extremely ignorant about--about foreign humor” It seemed more delicate to say “foreign” than merely “American.” But her gentle little countenance for a few seconds wore a baffled expression, and she said softly to herself, “Mr. Buttinski, Butt-in--to intrude. It sounds quite Polish; I think even more Polish than Russian.”
He was afraid he would yell with glee, but he did not. Herculean effort enabled him to restrain his feelings, and present to her only an ordinary-sized smile.
“I shouldn't know one from the other,” he said; “but if you say it sounds more Polish, I bet it does.”
“Would you like to go into a cottage?” she inquired. “I think it might be as well. They will like the attention.”
“Will they? Of course I'll go if you think that. What shall I say?” he asked somewhat anxiously.
“If you think the cottage looks clean, you might tell them so, and ask a few questions about things. And you must be sure to inquire about Susan Hibblethwaite's legs.”
“Susan Hibblethwaite's legs,” she replied in mild explanation. “Susan is Mr. Hibblethwaite's unmarried sister, and she has very bad legs. It is a thing one notices continually among village people, more especially the women, that they complain of what they call `bad legs.' I never quite know what they mean, whether it is rheumatism or something different, but the trouble is always spoken of as `bad legs' And they like you to inquire about them, so that they can tell you their symptoms.”
“I don't know, I'm sure. They take a good deal of medicine when they can afford it. I think they like to take it. They're very pleased when the doctor gives them `a bottle o' summat,' as they call it. Oh, I mustn't forget to tell you that most of them speak rather broad Lancashire.”