CHAPTER XVII.
CARES AND MISTAKES.
If, even while the arrangement with Mrs. Jessel was thus hastily concluded, Miss Trevor had her doubts as to whether it were a wise or a good one, as days and weeks rolled on the young lady became more certain that a great mistake had been made. Emmie had given to one of whose character she knew very little a footing in the house from which it would not be easy to displace her. Mrs. Jessel had now a fair excuse for “dropping in” at Myst Court at any hour, and she almost invariably chose the hours after dark. Her basket, by no means a small one, was Jael’s unfailing companion. Emmie wondered, but never ventured to inquire, how much of the food which left Myst Court really found its way to the homes of the poor. What made Emmie more uneasy were the words occasionally dropped by her trustworthy Susan, who evidently disliked Mrs. Jessel’s coming so much about the place, and who had no faith in her qualifications for the office of almoner into which she had installed herself by taking advantage of the timidity of Miss Trevor.
Mr. Trevor had made it his invariable rule to pay his bills weekly, and his daughter kept his household accounts. Emmie was startled at the amount of the bills now run up by the butcher and grocer who served the family at Myst Court. The young lady mustered up courage one day to express to Hannah her surprise at the heavy expense incurred at a time when the household was not large, and there was no entertaining of guests. Hannah had found out from the first her lady’s weakness, and had laughingly observed to Lizzy, “The way to manage young miss is to flare up at the first word; she don’t dare to bring out a second.” Hannah did not fail to put her tactics into practice on the present occasion.
“I don’t know what you mean by expense, miss,” she growled out, like a surly dog ready to snap; “Mrs. Jessel must have what she wants for the poor, and it’s a lot as her basket holds; one can’t fill it with soap-suds or shavings!”
Emmie retreated discomfited from the kitchen, and with a mortified, downcast look carried the tradesmen’s books to her father.
Mr. Trevor was in his study, writing out a statement to his lawyer of the wrong inflicted on some of his tenants by the dye-works of Messrs. Bullen and Co.
“I am sorry to interrupt you, papa,” said Emmie, as, after gently closing the door behind her, she approached the table at which her father was seated, “but I am afraid that I shall want more money to pay these bills.”
“You told me that you had enough,” observed Mr. Trevor, looking up from his writing, with his ready-dipped pen in his hand.
“I thought so, till I saw the amount of the bills,” and, as she spoke, Emmie placed the open books on the desk before her father.