“Oh! I never wear corsets; mamma did not approve of them.”
Mrs. Richards bit her lips and colored with vexation. She was not showing to advantage in this controversy. It was clear that Star’s perfect form was the work of nature’s own hand, and she would be obliged to put up with it, unless she tied her up in a sack to hide its comely outlines.
“Well,” she said, throwing aside the dress she had been examining, “I want you to come with me now; I am going to assign you your regular work. For one thing, you are to make all the beds in the house, except those in the servants’ rooms; then you are to keep Josephine’s and mine in order, wait upon us generally, and sew when there is nothing else to be done.”
Star stood looking down at the carpet in a thoughtful way while her would-be task mistress reeled off these instructions; then she raised her eyes, which looked almost black instead of their usual beautiful blue, and fixed them full upon the woman’s face.
“Did you understand,” she began, “when papa wrote to you, asking you to assume the guardianship of his only child and superintend her future education, that he had any idea that I should come into your family as a servant? I am sixteen years old, and although I have been taught to do many things in my home, and to do them well, I have never done any hard work. I have spent most of my time in study, and papa left written instructions with me regarding my future course in that direction. I am very fond of music; I can paint and draw quite well, I am told, for one of my age, and papa wished me to keep on with these accomplishments, so far as I was able to and attend faithfully to the other branches of my education. I tell you this that you may understand something of the disappointment I have experienced, since my arrival in this country, to find that I was expected to fill the place of a common servant. Do you think my father intended you to make me such?”
Mrs. Richards regarded the girl in astonishment, while her face grew crimson with shame and anger. She knew very well that Albert Gladstone had never dreamed that she would degrade his child in any such way. But Albert Gladstone was dead, and could not interpose to prevent it. She was obliged to curtail just now in some way, and when she found she must have this girl in her family, she had decided to dispense with the expense of one servant and impose the duties on Star.
But she had not once imagined that she would dare question her right to do with her whatever she saw fit, and she was amazed as well as angry at the quiet dignity and independence with which she made these statements, and called her to an account of her duty to her.
“I don’t know what your father intended, or what you expect,” she returned, in cold, precise tones. “I know that he wrote me you would soon be an orphan; that you had hardly a friend in the world, and he would leave you almost a pauper. He asked me to superintend your education, so that you would be able to earn your own living by and by. I intend to do so; and as you have nothing save your own hands to depend upon in the future, I am going to begin by making you useful at once. Did you suppose you were going to drop into the lap of luxury, and be reared in idleness?” she concluded, with biting sarcasm.
“No, marm,” Star returned, respectfully, yet not one whit abashed by the way Mrs. Richards had perverted the letter which her father had written. “I am willing to be useful—I wish to be useful—I should be unhappy to be idle; but I am very unwilling to be made a common drudge, with no time nor opportunity to pursue my education. You say I have nothing save my hands with which to earn my living. You are mistaken; I have brains, and I intend they shall serve that purpose.”
“It seems to me that you are making a saucy tongue serve its purpose pretty early in the day,” retorted Mrs. Richards, an angry red leaping into her face.