Edward put the cat into his blue bag, and took it down to his chambers with him that morning, all along with his law papers, (a dirty man.) When I asked him if he hadn’t better take them out and put them in his pockets, as Tom might go digging his claws into them, he told me they were only two or three rough bills of costs for his clients, and Tom’s claws couldn’t possibly hurt them; for as he hadn’t settled the things yet, it was no matter how much he stuck it into them. Then the stupid man giggled like a ninny, although, as I told him, I couldn’t see anything to giggle at, and that if in the end he found his bills of costs ripped up, that he’d laugh on the other side of his mouth, I’d be bound. So off he went with his cat, like another Whittington, to catch the Waterloo omnibus.
To say the truth, I was quite delighted when I saw my dear husband clear out of the house with that odious Tom in his hand; for really our household expenses had been so heavy for the last two or three weeks, that I hadn’t been able to get even so much as a bit of riband out of the money that Edward allowed me to keep the house with. And upon my word, what with my husband’s being so dreadfully close-fisted as he was—and Mrs. Burgess’s not being able to keep her fingers off anything—and that Tom’s love of clawing hold of whatever he came near, I declare I had been so dreadfully pinched of late, that I positively didn’t know which way to turn, and it made me so uneasy that I couldn’t rest in my bed. Besides, to be tied down to a penny as I was, was such an uncomfortable position for a body to be in, that I felt it was high time for me to get up and look about me; and I even began to have serious thoughts of keeping all the kitchen stuff to myself, for I was sure that our maid must get at least a new silk bonnet every year out of our dripping pan—and that too, when I would willingly have given my own head for it. Moreover, dear mother had advised me always to keep a sharp eye fixed on our grease-pot; for if I didn’t, I should find that every bit of candle I had in the house would run away as fast as if there was a thief in it, as the maids would take very good care that I hadn’t any “dips” of a morning in my candle box, and that my “compositions” would never be more than five and six in the pound.
Norah came in that evening with her things in a bundle in her hand; and I found her such a nice, hard-working body—always cleaning up or doing something—never tired nor minding how much I put upon her—and positively working like a galley-slave from morning till night for me—all of which was so delightful to see, that I really thought I was suited at last. Indeed, she was so quick over her work, that after I had made her scrub all the house well down, from top to bottom, and clean all the paint, and take up and beat all the carpets, and give all the furniture, and tins, and coppers, and stoves, a thorough good rubbing, I declare the mere everyday work of the house was literally a flea-bite in her eyes, (if I may be allowed the expression.) I was hard put to it to find some odd jobs to keep her fully employed; for I had no idea of paying servants the wages I did to support them in idleness and allowing time to hang so heavy on their hands that they must needs sit all the evening picking their fingers to get rid of it. A very praiseworthy and charming point, too, in Norah Connor’s character was, that she was not at all nice about her eating, for as long as the poor ignorant thing had oceans of potatoes, (to use an expressive figure of speech,) she didn’t care about anything else; so, of course, with my usual kindness, I let the good, hard-working soul have just what she wanted, and, in addition, I used to make her eat up all the odds and ends that were in the larder—for I never could bear waste, and didn’t mind what I did for a servant so long as she went on well.
But what pleased me more than all the rest put together indeed, was Mr. Sk—n—st—n’s disgraceful conduct about the business. For when I had finished getting the house to rights—and he couldn’t help noticing how different I had got it to look from the shameful state it was in under Mrs. Burgess’s hands—my husband, in his blessed ignorance, supposed it to be all Miss Norah Connor’s doing; and he even carried it so far as to say to my very face he hoped that now I had got a good servant, I should know how to treat her, and not go disgusting her with the place by working the girl off her legs, as I seemed to have been doing. Of course I told him it was like his impudence, indeed, and that I had no patience with him, for though he was my husband he was no better than a child; and I asked him, how on earth he could ever be such a stupid as to fancy that the improved appearance of the house was all owing to Norah, and how much work he thought she would have done if I had not always been looking after her; for didn’t he know, that the mice would play if the cat was away. I told him moreover I was sorry to see that he was very ready to compliment Norah, though he never thought it worth his while to trouble his head for an instant about the labour and fatigue I had gone through, in being obliged to keep dancing all the day long at the girl’s heels, as I had done. And I wound up by requesting him just for one moment to consider in his own mind what he thought would become of the sailors and the ship, if the pilot didn’t look alive, and neglected to put his best leg foremost for an instant.
But still, on second thoughts, I could hardly be angry with the poor man, for, of course, what could he be expected to know about the plague and worry attendant upon servants. And the more I turned what he said over in my own mind, the more convinced I felt that he was in the wrong and that I was in the right; for, Norah Connor being a new broom, it was only natural that she should sweep clean. Seeing, however, what the woman was capable of getting through, and that she was never happy unless she was doing something, it did seem to me to be quite a sin and a wicked waste of money to go putting out our washing every week as we did—especially as our garden would make such a sweet pretty drying-ground for the things; and the prices I had been giving for Edward’s shirts (4d. each), really did appear to me to be so extravagant. Besides, it is such a dreadful feeling, when you are conscious that you’re paying through the nose for things; and it seems to be so unreasonable for people to make you do so, that it’s quite wonderful to me how they can ever take the money from you in such a way. So, when I came to reflect upon it, I was astonished how I could have been such a stupid as to have gone putting out our washing as I had done, ever since we had been married; and I lost no time in telling Norah that I had forgotten to mention, at the time of engaging her, that we always did our washing at home.
I was quite delighted to see how readily the worthy, industrious creature consented to serve me. As a slight stimulus to further exertions, I told her that I should allow her a pint of beer extra on washing-days, which she seemed to be very grateful for; and I was glad to find that a poor ignorant woman like her was not insensible to my kindness. When it was all settled, I really felt quite happy at having done my duty to dear Edward, for I knew that we were not in a position of life that would warrant our going and flinging our money in the gutter; and that, as his wife, I was bound to save every sixpence of his that I could—especially as, by so doing, I should be able to get a few little odd things for myself out of the housekeeping without bothering him about them.
But though Norah Connor went on very well just at first, still, after a time, she got so frightfully familiar and presuming, that really the woman used to speak to me as if I was her equal; nor could I for the life of me get her to pay me the respect that I felt was due to me. Now, for instance, I remember, one morning, about two months before little Annie was born, I rang the parlour bell, and when the woman came into the room, I said, in a quiet voice, “I want a glass of water to drink, Norah.”
“You want to drink a glass of wather?” she replied. “Well, I’ve no objection. Drink away, darlin’!!
“Then,” I continued, blandly, “I should feel obliged if you would be so good as to let me have one directly.”
“Let you have one?” she exclaimed. “Faith, an’ didn’t I give you permission just now?”