So I gave her the Drops, which she thankfully took; and in Half-an-hour or so I was glad to find she was asleep.
The next Morning, while we were dressing, as she had quite recovered her Composure, I took Advantage of what might be my last Opportunity to question her a little more than I had yet done on her Position at Lady Betty's.
"Well," says she, "'tis not good to complain, I know, but however, I will this once say Somewhat of my Life behind the Scenes, with as few Notes and Comments as I can. My first Grievance is sleeping with that Frenchwoman, a low Person whom it is impossible to like. I wake sooner than she does, and avail myself of it for a little quiet Reading or Needlework on my own Account before she is stirring. But first, I light the Fire in the little Closet beneath my Lady's Chamber, put down the Irons, and warm some Coffee for Pompon's Breakfast and mine, which she takes in an uncomfortable Sort of Way, running in and out half dressed, without ever sitting down, so that my Breakfast is uncomfortable too. Then I have to iron out every individual Thing that Lady Betty took off Overnight, even to her Gloves; and to air her clean Linen. Having then fed her Parrots and cleaned their Cages, (Pompey has the Monkey and Lapdog in Charge,) I sit down to fine Work, and have scarce set a dozen Stitches, when Lady Betty's Bell is pulled as if the Wire would crack, and her High-Heeled Slipper raps the Floor to let me know she is ready for her Chocolate. Pompey brings it up to the Door, and I carry it in, and wait on her while she drinks it. After this, she remains in Bed two Hours, sometimes sleeping, but oftener sitting up propped with Pillows, doing any Fancy-Work she is in the Humour for, getting me to thread her Needle, change her Silks, hold her Scissors, and Sometimes to read a Novel to her. If she is very late, it may chance that one of her female Cronies arrives in her Chair, runs up to tell her some Piece of Gossip, and perhaps rouses her to get up and dress in a Hurry to go to some Auction; in which Case she needs not so much two Waiting Women as twenty. But oftener, she is uninterrupted, and after wasting half the Morning, rises to waste the other half in a lengthened, capricious Toilette; trying on a dozen Things she does not mean to wear, and studying what Colours suit her Complexion. As she does not so much as put on her own Gloves herself, Madame Pompon is on hard Duty all this While, I standing by and handing her the Pins and Everything she wants. If my Lady thinks herself in good Looks, all the better for us; but if she spies out so much as a Freckle, woe unto us! we are sure to suffer for what we can't help. To put her in good Humour, Pompon flatters her to a Degree that is nauseous to me, and sometimes gets a Rebuff for her Pains: then I am set to write half-a-dozen trivial Notes to her Dictation, or perhaps the Invitations to a Rout or a Drum, which Pompey is then summoned to carry out. Then, my Work is called for to be examined; I am chidden if I have not done enough, and receive numerous Orders and Counter-Orders about it. At last, my Lady goes out in her Chair, during which Time I keep close to my Needle, and then Pompon and I dine together. Lady Betty returns, receives Visitors, and I am on Duty as Woman in waiting, to bring her Scent-Bottle, hold her Handkerchief, her Gloves, and hear the News and Gossip of the Day and a thousand Impertinences. At length my Lady dines: then I resume my Needle; then she dresses for the Evening, which is as tedious a Transaction as her Morning Toilette. Her Dressing-Room is the loveliest, most luxurious Apartment you ever saw; at first I thought it Fairy-Land, and did not mind being shut up in it; but oh, how tired I am of it now! Its Silken Draperies, polished Mirrours, Spider-Tables, Ivory Caskets, Alabaster Vases, Silver Footbath, old Porcelain, grotesque Toys and delicate Trinkets give me no more Entertainment than so much Rubbish. Elaborately dressed, she goes forth not to return till two, three, or four o'Clock in the Morning. Madame Pompon goes down Stairs to play Cards, or puts on her Calash and goes out to see her Friends, or if she stays with me, nods over a French Novel, or babbles all kinds of Nonsense while she manufactures some Piece of Finery. Meanwhile, I sew and sew at that eternal Embroidery, or try to keep myself awake with a Book, if I can find one to my Mind, till my Lady returns jaded or excited from the Ridotto, to be undressed and have hot Soup in Bed. Thus, you see, I have no Change, no Exercise; and what is worse, no Food or Medicine for the Mind; and oh, Patty! is this a Life for an accountable Creature?"
Chapter VII.
Lady Betty's Fright.
"However that may be, Gatty," said I, "'tis certain you and I have not the Power of rectifying Abuses, and must take Things as we find them; but you must console yourself with thinking your Trial will probably not be long, for I'll wager a Pound you'll be married within the Twelvemonth."