“So you’ve seen him?”
“Of course,” said Sophia, rather stiffly. Did the doctor suppose that she did not know her own nephew? She went back to the subject of her sister. “She is also a little bothered, I think, because the servant is going to leave.”
“Oh! So Amy is going to leave, is she?” He spoke still lower. “Between you and me, it’s no bad thing.”
“I’m so glad you think so.”
“In another few years the servant would have been the mistress here. One can see these things coming on, but it’s so difficult to do anything. In fact ye can’t do anything.”
“I did something,” said Sophia, sharply. “I told the woman straight that it shouldn’t go on while I was in the house. I didn’t suspect it at first—but when I found it out ... I can tell you!” She let the doctor imagine what she could tell him.
He smiled. “No,” he said. “I can easily understand that ye didn’t suspect anything at first. When she’s well and bright Mrs. Povey could hold her own—so I’m told. But it was certainly slowly getting worse.”
“Then people talk about it?” said Sophia, shocked.
“As a native of Bursley, Mrs. Scales,” said the doctor, “ye ought to know what people in Bursley do!” Sophia put her lips together. The doctor rose, smoothing his waistcoat. “What does she bother with servants at all for?” he burst out. “She’s perfectly free. She hasn’t got a care in the world, if she only knew it. Why doesn’t she go out and about, and enjoy herself? She wants stirring up, that’s what your sister wants.”
“You’re quite right,” Sophia burst out in her turn. “That’s precisely what I say to myself; precisely! I was thinking it over only this morning. She wants stirring up. She’s got into a rut.”