“Nothing, child, nothing; ’tis not that. I am going away myself.”
“And mustn’t I go with you?” asked Jenny, in a very disappointed tone.
“To France? We are going to France, child.”
Jenny felt in a whirl of astonishment. Going abroad in those days was looked on as a very serious matter, not to be undertaken except for some important reason, and requiring a great deal of deliberation. And here was Mrs Jane, after scarcely half-an-hour’s reflection, announcing that she was going to start at once for France.
Mrs Jane put her hand in her pocket.
“Here be thy wages, Jenny,” she said. “Twelve pound by the year we agreed on, and thou hast been with me scarce a year; howbeit, twelve pound let it be. And for the ill-conveniency I put thee to, to send thee away thus suddenly, thou shalt have another pound, and my flowered tabby gown. Thou wilt soon win another place if thou list to tarry in service, and my mother hath promised to commend thee heartily to any gentlewoman that would have thee.
“So cheer up, child; there is no need for thee to fret.”
Jenny felt as if she had considerable need to fret. Here were all her distinctions flying away from her at a minute’s notice. Instead of being Mrs Jenny, and sitting in the drawing-room at Bentley Hall, she would once more be plain Jenny Lavender in the farmhouse kitchen. It was true her freedom would return to her; but by this time she had become accustomed to the restraint, and did not mind it nearly so much. The tears overflowed and ran down.
“Come, come, child!” said Mrs Jane, giving her a gentle pat on the shoulder; “take not on thus, prithee. Thy life is yet before thee. Cheer up and play the woman! Ah, Jenny, maid, ’tis well for thee thou art not so high up as some I could name, and therefore shalt fall the lighter. Now go, and pack up thy mails, and Robin shall take thee and them to the farm this evening.”
“Must I go to-day, madam?” exclaimed Jenny, more dismayed than ever.