“ ’Tis a quare house altogether. None of them cares much for the others, only Miss Judy for Master Jack, an’ he for her. Swimmin’ an’ divin’ they do be, at all times, an’ sailin’ in the sea, an’ gettin’ upset, an’ comin’ in streelin’ through the house drippin’ wet. An’ there’s misfortunate sorts of sounds in the night: if ’twas in Ireland I’d say there was a ghost in it, but sure, there’s no house in this country with pedigree enough to own a ghost!”
“No—we haven’t many ghosts in Australia, Julia,” I said, laughing. “I expect you hear the trees creaking.”
Julia sniffed.
“ ’Tis an unnatural creak they have, then. I don’t get me sleep well, on account of me hollow tooth, an’ I hear quare sounds. If it wasn’t for the money I can send home to me ould mother I’d not stay in it—but the wages is good, an’ they treat you well on the whole. It’s no right thing when the misthress is no real misthress, but more like a shadow you’d be meetin’ on the stairs. But I oughtn’t to be puttin’ you against it, miss, when you’ve your livin’ to make, same as meself. It’s terrible young you are, to be out in the worrld.”
“I’m feeling awfully young for this job, Julia,” I said. “And I’m scared enough without thinking of queer sounds, so I hope they won’t come in my way. But I do want you and Bella and Mrs. Winter to believe that I’m not an interfering person, and that I shall do my work without getting in your way any more than I can help.”
“Sure, I’m ready enough to believe that same, now that I’ve had a quiet chat with you,” replied Julia. “You’ve your juty to do, miss, same as meself, an’ I’ll help you as far as I can. Bella’s not the aisiest person in the worrld to get on with: she’s a trifle haughty, ’specially since she got her head shingled along of the barber in Wootong: but Mrs. Winter’s all right, wance you get on the good side of her. And Bence, that’s the chauffeur, is a decent quiet boy. Sure, there’s none of us ’ud do annything but help to make things aisy for you, if you do the same by us.”
She had gathered up her brooms and dustpan, and prepared to go. At the door she hesitated.
“And don’t you be down-trodden by Miss Beryl, miss,” she said. “That one’s the proud girl: there’s more human nature in Miss Judy’s little finger than in her whole body.”
“Oh, I don’t think we’ll quarrel, Julia,” I said. “I can only do my best. At any rate, I’m very glad to think I can count on you.”
She beamed on me.