“A cow’s an innocent thing,” said Mrs. Mills. The housekeeper kept appearing all day, coming in with every meal, keeping an eye upon Hetty. The girl felt this confusedly, though she could not think why it was.
“Oh yes! it is an innocent thing and a nice thing in its proper place. But in your bedroom at the dead of night! My dear, you must consider, if not for your own sake, yet for the sake of other people. I make it a rule to shut up my windows, even in summer. When you get used to living in strange houses that are nothing to you, where you are only for a time, you have to be particular. Why, anybody might come in—a tramp that had got into the park.”
“Don’t frighten the young ladies, Miss Hofland, please. There’s no such thing possible. A tramp could no more get in here than at Windsor Castle. It would be as much as their places were worth to the lodge-keepers. And it’s a thing that never happened. No, it’s an old house, and if any one says there are noises about, that can’t be quite accounted for, well, I’ll not go against them: but as for tramps!” Mrs. Mills cried, with a laugh. The derision in her tone seemed to Hetty to be addressed to herself. What a little fool you are! but at least keep it to yourself, that look seemed to say.
And at night, when they all went to bed, both Miss Hofland and the housekeeper went with Hetty to her room. The latter had given instructions to the housemaid, and everything was fastened in Hetty’s room, the shutters closed, the curtains drawn, a dreadful sense of being shut up and cut off from everything breathing in the motionless air. Hetty gasped, with a feeling that she could not get breath. But the room was large and lofty, and not without air, so that the sensation was imaginative rather than real. There was a bright fire blazing, which made everything look cheerful. “This is what I call comfortable,” Miss Hofland said. “Don’t you think so too, my dear? Those nice soft curtains keep out every bit of draught. I must say they understand comfort in this house. Mine are so thick, if a gale is blowing, I never feel it in the least—and these are nearly as good. Surely you like that better than an open window at this time of the year?”
“Some people have a fad about open windows, and say you should have them all the year through. Some people have a fad about curtains. I don’t blame Miss Asquith, for she’s very young: but I think when a young lady is living with other people she should go by the ways of the house.”
“I don’t see that at all,” said Miss Hofland. “If you’ve any sort of rights, you’ve a right to arrange your own room as you choose, and I have never done otherwise. A lady that has to live in other people’s houses has many things to put up with, but I never should give in to that. All the same, my dear, when you sleep on the ground-floor you can’t be too particular. Now lock the door after me, and you will be as snug and as safe as if you were in a box. Good-night, dear, and sleep well, and don’t mind if you should hear the house tumbling down. It’s no concern of ours.”
With this Miss Hofland crossed the little passage to her own door, and waving her hand, shut and locked it, as Hetty could very well hear. The housekeeper retired by the other, repeating Miss Hofland’s advice. “Just turn the key when I’m gone, and then you’ll be sure nothing can happen to frighten you. And there’s really nothing to frighten any one, only noises such as you hear in every old house.”
Hetty, with a beating heart, did as she was told; and then the oppression of this shut-in solitude and silence came round her like a shroud. The curtains seemed to close round with an ominous envelopment. The straight lines of the walls, with no windows to break them, frightened her as if they were the sides of a box, as Miss Hofland had said. The girl’s nerves were so strained that she burst into one of those youthful tempests of tears which relieve the bosom. She had nothing to cry for, nothing. Comfort, luxurious and elaborate, surrounded her, and no harm was near that she knew of. The fire burned cheerfully; everything was shut out that could frighten or trouble her. For what did Hetty cry, or what had she to fear?
