"Nothing, ma'am," said Bridget, drawing up her head rather proudly, "nothing at all. Though I say it that shouldn't say it, the house is just in as perfect order now as it was when my master went away. But I should like to know if my mistress would choose to have the coverings taken off the furniture in the great drawing-room; and there have been a few breakages in the bedrooms; and Stephen tells me there is a pane of glass out of the conservatory; and the fringe of the curtains in the saloon was torn yesterday by the girl who was here cleaning the rooms, I scolded her well for it, and she is coming again to-morrow to mend it."
"Well," said Mrs Herbert, stopping her, "all these things you can quite well manage yourself, they are but trifles. You had better get all the rooms in order, for I do not at all know which they will choose."
"And the chapel, mamma," said Amy, "won't Bridget have the chapel cleaned? When I was last in it, there was such a heap of dust on the old monument near the door."
Bridget looked annoyed. "The chapel is not my department, Miss Amy; it was given in particular charge to Stephen's niece by Mrs Harrington herself; but she is an idle trolloping girl, and always neglects. Stephen," she added, turning to the old man, who appeared quite absorbed in his own thoughts,—"Stephen, Miss Amy declares the chapel is dusty."
The steward started up like a man awakened from a dream; and catching only the meaning of the last word of the sentence, exclaimed—"Dusty! and whose fault is that, pray?"
"Whose, but that fine lady's your niece?" said Bridget, giving way to an irritation of temper which she did not dare to exhibit to Mrs Herbert, and delighted at having something to find fault with. "She is so busy all day with her flounces and her furbelows, that she has no time to think of her work."
Stephen, now fully alive to everything, looked steadily at Mrs Bridget as she said this; and then scanning her from head to foot with a half contemptuous smile, muttered—"Not so very different from other people," and walked away, though it was only a few paces, for his angry feelings were very soon subdued.
"I should like to go over the house, Bridget," said Mrs Herbert; "and after that, perhaps, you will get us some tea; for the evening is so fine we need not return home till late."
"Dear mamma," said Amy, "may we have it in your own room? I should so enjoy it! you know I like it better than any in the whole house."
Mrs Herbert made no objection; for although there were many melancholy ideas connected with this room, yet she felt like Amy, that to her it had more charms than any other.