In Mrs. Gass's comfortable dining-room, securely ensconced behind the closed blinds, drawn to-day, sat that lady and a visitor. It was the day of the funeral of Edmund North; and Mrs. Gass had put on mourning out of respect to the family: a black silk gown and white net cap. It need not be said that the change improved her appearance greatly: she looked, as she herself would have phrased it, genteel to-day. This was her favourite sitting-room; she rarely used any other: for one thing it gave her the opportunity of seeing the movements of her neighbours. The drawing-room faced the garden at the back: a large and beautiful apartment, opening to the smooth green lawn.
The visitor was Mrs. Cumberland. For once in her life Mrs. Cumberland emerged from her shell of indifference and condescended to show a little of the curiosity of ordinary people. She had come to Mrs. Gass's to see the funeral pass: and that lady made much of her, for their meetings were rare. Mrs. Cumberland was also in black silk: but she rarely wore anything else. The two women sat together, talking in subdued voices of bygone times: not that they had known each other then; but each had interest in the past. Mrs. Gass was full of respect, never presuming on her elevation; though they were sisters-in-law, she did not forget that she had once been only a servant in Mrs. Cumberland's family. They had little in common, though, and the topics of conversation exhausted themselves. Mrs. Cumberland was of a silent nature, not at all given to gossip in general. She began to think the waiting long. For the convenience of two mourners, who were coming from a distance, the funeral had been put off until four o'clock.
"Holidays don't improve the working class--unless they've the sense to use 'em as they ought," observed Mrs. Gass. "Just look at them three, ma'am. They've been at the tap--and more shame to 'em! They'd better let Mr. Richard catch his eye upon 'em. Putting themselves into that state, when he is following his brother to the grave."
She alluded to some men belonging to the Dallory Works, closed to-day. They had taken more than was becoming, and were lounging against the opposite shutters, quarrelling together. Mrs. Gass could bear it no longer; in defiance of appearances she drew up the blind and dashed open the window.
"Are you three men not ashamed of yourselves? I thought it was you, Dawson! When there's any ill-doing going on, you're safe to be in it. As to you, Thomas, you'll not like to show your face tomorrow. Don't come to me again, Smith, to beg grace for you of Mr. Richard North."
The men slunk away and disappeared down an entry. Mrs. Gass, in one sense of the word, was their mistress; at any rate, their master's partner. She closed the window and drew down the blind.
"Are the men paid for to-day, or do they lose it?" asked Mrs. Cumberland.
"They're paid, ma'am, of course. It would be very unjust to dock them when the holiday's none of their making. Neither Mr. Richard nor me would like to be unjust."
"And he--Richard--seems to act entirely for his father."
Mrs. Gass coughed. "Mr. North is took up with his garden, and that; he don't care to bother his head about business. It's better in younger hands."