He went to Arden; nor could he have chosen a better retreat: for the instantaneous effect of a sight of its well-known scenes was for a time to give to the feelings and affections of childhood and boyhood a most salutary preponderance over the newer and more vivid, but far less uniformly happy sensations of the last few months.
CHAPTER XIV.
Lady Arden, about the same time, set out for her house in town, accompanied by Madeline, her only remaining daughter. Mrs. Dorothea, thus left alone, began to ponder on the prudential step of breaking up an establishment, which she found much too expensive for her means—more so, infinitely, than she had anticipated. For it so happened, that her maid-of-all-work cook, whom she took with the house, was one of a set, who not being sufficiently reputable to get places in private families, are frequently employed by speculators in furnished houses, to take charge of the same when vacant, living on their wits the while, and on their lodgers when they can get them. Moreover she belonged to a club for supplying servants out of place with broken meat. Poor Mrs. Dorothea, therefore, was sadly puzzled about the consumption in her kitchen. At last she ventured to consult her confidential abigail, Sarah.
Servants, however, though they had been pulling caps five minutes before, always stand by each other in the grand common cause—defence of extravagance! Sarah, therefore, assuming an expression of countenance, in which sauciness and sulkiness were combined, replied,
"You can't expect to be much of a judge, ma'am, not being used to housekeeping; I'm sure I never see no waste; but people must have enough to eat of something."
"I am far from wishing any person under my roof not to have sufficient to eat," replied Mrs. Dorothea, with offended dignity, "but I certainly expected of you, Sarah, that you would not see me imposed upon by lodging-house servants."
"I never seen you imposed upon, ma'am; but you seem to forget that you've got a man now to feed. Where there is a man, there's no end to the consumption; in particular butcher's meat, and they will have it. It's no place of mine, however, to see the larder, and I am not a going to get myself mobbed, meddling with other servants."
Sarah was ordered to leave the room, and send the cook. There had been a shoulder of mutton at the table the day before, in which Mrs. Dorothea had made the usual first gash with the carving-knife, intending to help herself, but changed her mind; the meat had, of course, separated a little, as in a shoulder it always does.
"You have the cold mutton for your own dinners," commenced Mrs. Dorothea: the servants dined some hours before she did.