Retired Characters and NPC Writer.
“Nurse, if you could show me out?” The undergarment salesman asked, and Aoife rose to perform the duty. Arabella cut in, however, and the nurse was left standing rather awkwardly.
There was a 'thank-you' and a reticent 'you're welcome' to be endured before she could finally see about showing Mr. Pettigrew the door, which he inevitably ended up doing of his own accord, leading her to feel very embarrassed indeed.
"This way, was it, nurse?” He nodded to Jonah and was gone.
And when the Mudd girl launched into her subsequent tirade, why, what Aoife wouldn't have given to follow in the footsteps of that portly fellow. She remained in her awkward standing position by the door, thin-lipped and with folded arms while both the Doctor and herself were regaled with seemingly every single thought that rattled around the overzealous girl's exceedingly thick skull.
Jonah attempted to interdict, mirroring Aoife's intentions, but his implications fell on deaf ears as the barrage of words continued.
"Miss Mudd." she cut in on a line about eating someone's pudding. "When you're ready."
Though of course, in Aoife's contentious tone, the implication was that Miss Mudd was ready.
Again, Jonah found himself on the verge of bursting into laughter as the child started rambling on about the unfortunate Cousin Buford, but he managed to keep a straight face, and was relieved with Miss Leane started to hurry her out the door, although, with Miss Mudd, 'hurry' seemed to be limited to her speech.
"Good afternoon, Miss Mudd, I'm glad we were of help." Then, on a whim, he added, "You should consider following in the steps of Samuel Clemens, putting your capricious anecdotes to pen. I'm sure there'd be a wide interest, and you would attract a diverse readership." He hesitated, then quickly amended, "Except Cousin Buford...I don't imagine he is doing much reading these days."
"Everybody can feather their nest, but it's not just anybody that can lay an egg!"
"Miss Mudd." she cut in on a line about eating someone's pudding. "When you're ready."
Though of course, in Aoife's contentious tone, the implication was that Miss Mudd was ready.
“Ooops! Sorry!” apologised Arabella, gathering up her things: basket, shawl, bonnet, and heading out the door.
"Good afternoon, Miss Mudd, I'm glad we were of help."
Arabella stopped at the doorway to bid him farewell. “Bye then Doc, thanks for the … well, thingy.” As long as the good doctor didn't have a whim, they were nearly rid of her.
Then, on a whim, he added, "You should consider following in the steps of Samuel Clemens, putting your capricious anecdotes to pen. I'm sure there'd be a wide interest, and you would attract a diverse readership." He hesitated, then quickly amended, "Except Cousin Buford...I don't imagine he is doing much reading these days."
A whim. That was a mistake. Arabella turned and walked back into the room.
“Do you really think so?” she asked excitedly “I don’t know who this Sam Clemens character is, more of a Mark Twain reader m’self” she lied, she’d only ever read two whole books in her entire life, The Bible and Ivanhoe, but she’d heard of Mark Twain who had recently written a funny and clever book of ‘sketches’.
“I done already writ some poems an’ I tried to put together a advice column for Mr. McVie, try make his newspaper kinda more interestin’, but I never heard back 'bout that. Problem is, when I try and write me a story of my own an’ I show it someone they always say, ‘oh that’s been done before’ and as for ol’ cousin Buford, well I asked my friend Jemima Wigfall if folks could read in Heaven, cause she’s a spiritualist and she says they can but not in the other place cause all them flames would burn up your books an’…” She noticed Nurse Leane was still holding the door open for her to leave with a very frosty look on her face. Even Arabella picked up on the vibe that it was time for her to go.
“… an’, er, well, we’ll jaw on this some other time, Doc!” she waved him goodbye and tried to squeeze past Aoife with an embarrassed smile.