“Oh, Jenny, are you come? That is right,” said she.
“Yes, madam, to serve you,” answered Jenny, dropping a courtesy.
“Very good. Here, pick up these pins, and put them into that box. You must learn to dress me, and dress my hair. Dear me, you have all to learn! Well, never mind; the best woman living had to begin once.”
“Yes, madam,” said smiling Jenny.
Mrs Jane sat down before the toilet-table, and with more rapidity than Jenny could well follow, showed her the articles upon it, and the uses for which they were designed.
“Here is pearl powder; that is for my forehead. This is rouge, for my cheeks and lips. Now, mind what you do with them! Don’t go and put the white powder on my cheeks, and the red upon my nose! This is pomatum for my hair; and this empty box holds my love-locks (you’ll have to learn how to put those in, Jenny); in this bottle is a wash for my face. I don’t dye my hair, nor use oils for my hands—one must draw the line somewhere. But the other matters you must learn to apply.”
Jenny listened in silent amazement. She had never realised till that moment what an artificial flower her young mistress was.
Her own cosmetics were soap and water; and she was divided between disgust and admiration at the number of Mrs Jane’s beautifiers. Poor Jenny had no idea that Mrs Jane used a very moderate amount of them, as contrasted with most fashionable ladies of her day.
“I must have a word with you, Jenny, as to your manners,” said Mrs Jane, more gravely. “I can’t do to have you falling in love with anybody. It would be very inconvenient, and, in fact, there’s nobody here for you. Remember now, you are above Featherstone and all the men-servants; and you must not set your cap at the chaplain, because he’s Mrs Millicent’s property.”
Above that elegant gentleman, Mr Featherstone! Jenny felt as if she trod on perfumed air. She was not in the least surprised to be told that she was not to marry the chaplain; the family chaplain, of whom there was one in every family of any pretension, was considered a poor mean creature, whose natural wife was the lady’s maid; and Jenny quite understood that Mrs Millicent took precedence of her.