When master finished questioning her, he said, “Jane, I have a plan to propose. I hope you will agree to it. You should have left here long ago, but we kept you because you begged to stay. Now you will remain in New York, only long enough to get a set of teeth.”
Here he stopped and smiled a very pained sort of smile, and looked hastily from the nice plump matron whose big blue eyes were full of tears.
“After you get your teeth,” he went on, “you will come to Pleasant River. I have a cottage to let there, you shall have it, and Montmorency may live with you. Your skill in cooking will support you. I will see to that.”
Jane began to mope in a dull sort of way. She did not cry. Her red eyes looked as if she had shed all the tears she had to shed. She said she would rather his wife would keep Montmorency, and she would stay in New York.
“That I cannot consent to,” said master, and he got up to show his decision was final.
Jane wasn’t a bit grateful. Her mania for her boy’s advancement socially made her fight against coming to the country, and kick hard at living in the pretty cottage master fitted up for her. Master and mistress paid no attention to her tempers. They went on, and coaxed and petted her, till finally she began to get her health back, and then she became more reasonable. All this happened a few months ago, and now she is the leading caterer of the countryside, and is a comfortable, decent mother, bringing up her idolised boy in a very sensible way. He goes to Mrs. Waverlee’s school, and I think will make a very decent man.
Jane never gushes to the two persons who have so befriended her, but I heard her one day tell the woman next door to her that she would walk over red-hot kitchen stoves if it would benefit Mr. and Mrs. Granton.
I seldom hear any one thank master for anything he does, but it makes no difference to him. He just keeps on doing good, thanks or no thanks.
I may say in closing Jane’s story, that she got the finest set of artificial teeth that New York could afford, and for a while the dentist had her wear things called “plumpers” to make her thin cheeks stick out. Now I hear from Montmorency’s dog, who is one of Weary Winnie’s pups, that Jane threw the plumpers in the trash can, and we can all see that she is visibly better, and has some colour in her cheeks.
The tailor’s dog, Beauty Beagle, says that her master is getting sweet on Jane, because she is such a good cook.