Janet's boys

by Annette Lyster

Fred gave his consent very graciously, expressing at the same time a great longing to see Judith's face when the possible affliction in store for her was first announced to her. Had he but known it, he might have had that treat at once; he had only to open the door, at which the excellent Judith was listening. Something in her master's manner when he came in upon the scene about the boots had given her a fright, and she was anxious to find out if she had anything worse to fear than a severe scolding. She heard all! And tottering back to the kitchen, which, contrary to the general habits of kitchens, was at the top of the house, she sank upon a chair and began to sob.

"And such a servant as I've been to him," she moaned faintly, "such a servant!"

Then she felt that she was an ill-used woman, and clenching her hand—a good big hand she had, too—she said aloud—

"Miss Lydia Thompson! Miss, forsooth! Her mother wasn't a bit better than myself, though she wears black silk and I know my place! But wait a bit, Miss Lydia Thompson; you're not Mrs. Rayburn yet, nor shall be if I can help it."

She sat meditating various ways of putting an end to the courtship, which, I may remark, was not yet begun. Miss Lydia had as yet no idea of the promotion that lay within her reach. But Judith was no witch, and she could devise no better plan than to amend her ways, give fewer tea-parties, cook the dinners decently, and dust the furniture; nay, she even determined to polish Fred's boots.

But, alas! She was too late, even if she could have pulled herself together, which I doubt; for she had fallen into very lazy, slovenly habits. But she never had the opportunity. Mr. Rayburn was very prompt to act when once his mind was made up. He spoke to his friend Thompson that very night, ascertained that Miss Lydia had a very little money of her own, and would be glad, her brother thought, to have a house of her own too. He said also that she was a capable housekeeper, and understood the art of cookery to an extent that was a constant admiration to his wife and daughters; and that she was, moreover, good tempered and easy to get on with. So Mr. Rayburn made his plain and unromantic proposals, and was accepted after a few hours' consideration. And before Judith had well begun her projected reformation, she found, herself possessed of a mistress; but it was only for a short time. In a few days after the wedding she was quietly sent about her business, and a smart young person in white apron and cap installed in her place. Very soon the Gatehouse resumed its old air of sober comfort and spotless neatness, and once more peace and quiet reigned.

I do not think that Mr. Rayburn ever had any reason to repent of his second marriage, and yet I know that had he really understood his wife, he would have disapproved very much of her. The second Mrs. Rayburn was an utterly selfish woman, and had been utterly selfish all her life. But she was far too clever to show it openly. She had ruled her mother, but had made her rule pleasant. The good woman had sons and married daughters, whom she would at one time have liked to help occasionally; but she was convinced, she hardly knew how, that she ought to save every penny for poor Lydia, the only unmarried one. At her brother's house, Lydia had found it her best plan to be helpful and pleasant to her sister-in-law, and had made herself very useful to the girls. And now she saw that to stand well with Fred was her cue, and she proved a delightful stepmother.

I must not make this part of my story too long, as it is really only introductory, but I do not see how to make the events that follow clear without this preparatory sketch. For about ten years the household went on almost without a change. Fred settled down into a good clerk, and rose in the counting-house; he still played the flute, but he no longer wrote poetry, having, indeed, failed to find a publisher for his laments over his wasted intellect. And, indeed, though he was a good fellow enough, I do not think that any great waste was possible in that matter.

He fell in love with a very nice, pretty girl, just home from school and they were engaged with the full consent of all concerned; but Janet Gray's father thought her too young to be married just yet, so they had a long and very happy engagement. And then, Fred being twenty-seven and Janet twenty, the day was fixed for their marriage, and all the pleasant bustle of looking for a suitable house was going on, when one day, as Fred, Janet, and Mrs. Gray were inspecting the twenty-third house, all three very busy and happy, the messenger from the brewery came running up the terrace, and told Fred to hurry home, as his father was very ill. Before the young man reached home, his father was dead; in fact, he was dead when the messenger was sent, though no one could believe it.

Mrs. Rayburn was sincerely sorry. The life had been very pleasant to her, and she felt that even if she found another husband she would never like him as well. Just, too, as she was about to be rid of Fred and his flute, and free to set about the task of convincing her husband that at least half his savings ought in justice to be left to her. But she was very practical, and quickly turned her mind to consider how she could best secure her own well-being.