Kate laughed. “Have you had your fling and come down, Jenny?” she asked; “or haven’t you had fling enough?—which is it?”
“I think it’s a bit of both,” said Jenny. “It’s grand to be at the Hall, and ride in the coach, and sit in the pew at church, and that; but I used to get dreadful tired by times, it seemed so dull. There’s a deal more fun here, and I’m freer like. But—”
Jenny left her “but” unfinished.
“Ay, there’s a many buts, I shouldn’t wonder,” said Kate, laughing. “Well, Jenny, you’ve seen somewhat of high life, and you’ve got it to talk about.”
Jenny felt very sad when she went to church on the following Sunday. The Hall pew was empty, and Jenny herself was once more a mere nobody in the corner of her father’s seat. There was no coach to ride in; and very humiliated she felt when Dorothy Campion gave her a smart blow on the back as she went down the churchyard.
“Well, Mrs. Jenny! so you’ve come down from your pedestal? Going to be very grand, weren’t you?—couldn’t see your old acquaintances last Sunday! But hey, presto, all is changed, and my fine young madam come down to a farmhouse lass.
“How was it, Jenny? Did Mrs Jane catch you at the mirror, trying on her sky-coloured gown? or had her necklace slipped into your pocket by accident? Come, tell us all about it.”
“She gave me a gown, then,” said Jenny, with spirit; “and that’s more, I guess, than she ever did to you, Dolly Campion. And as for why I’m come home, it’s neither here nor there. Mrs Jane’s a-going to France, to be one of the Queen’s ladies, maybe, and that’s why; so you can take your change out o’ that.”
Miss Campion immediately proceeded to take her change out of it.
“Dear heart, Jenny, and why ever didn’t you go and be one of the Queen’s ladies, too?”