“Where are you going, Law?—you must never get up from table without asking my leave—it is dreadful unmannerly. You have got into such strange ways; you want me to bring you back to your manners, all of you. Who are you going to?—not to Mr. Langton as you used to do—I’m glad of that.”
“I don’t see why you should be glad of that. I’m going to old Ashford,” said Law, gloomily. “He is a much better coach than Langton. I have not anything to do to-day, Lottie; I shall be back at twelve o’clock.”
“Dear me,” said Mrs. Despard, “how long is Law going on going to school like a little boy? I never heard of such a thing, at his age. He should be put into something where he could earn a little money for himself, instead of costing money; a great, strong young fellow like that. I think you’re all going to sleep here. You want me, as anybody can see, to wake you up, and save you from being put upon, my poor man. But I hope I know how to take care of my own husband, and see that he gets the good of what he has, and don’t just throw it away upon other folks. And I begin as I means to end,” said Polly, with a little toss of her head. Law, stopped by the sound of her voice, had turned round at the door, and contemplated her with gloomy looks; but seeing it was not to come to anything bad, went away. And the bell began, and the Captain rose. His bride came to him fondly, and brushed a crumb or two off his coat and arranged the flower in his button-hole. “Now you look quite sweet,” she said with genuine enthusiasm. “I ain’t going in the morning, when none but the regular folks is there, but I mean to go, my dear, in the afternoon. It’s only proper respect, living in the Precincts; but you won’t be long, dear? You’ll come home to your poor little wife, that don’t know what to do without her handsome husband? Now, won’t you, dear?”
“I’ll be back as fast as my legs can carry me,” said the Captain. “Come and meet me, my pet. Lottie will tell you when the voluntary begins——”
“Oh, I can tell very well without Lottie,” said the bride, hanging upon him till he reached the door. All these endearments had an indescribable effect upon the girl, who was compelled to stand by. Lottie turned her back to them and re-arranged the ornaments on the mantelpiece, with trembling hands, exasperated almost beyond the power of self-restraint. But when the Captain was gone, looking back in his imbecility to kiss his hand to his bride, the situation changed at once. Polly turned round, sharp and business-like, in a moment. “Ring the bell, Miss,” she said, “and tell the girl to clear them things away. And then, if you will just hand me over the keys, and let me see your housekeeping things and your stores and all that, we may settle matters without any trouble. I likes to begin as I mean to end,” said Polly peremptorily. Lottie stood and looked at her for a moment, her spirit rekindling, her mind rising up in arms against the idea of obedience to this stranger. But what would be the use of trying to resist? Resist! what power had she? The very pride which rebelled against submission made the submission inevitable. She could not humiliate herself by a vain struggle. Polly, who was very doubtful of the yielding of this natural adversary, and rather expected to have a struggle for her “rights,” was quite bewildered by the meekness with which the proud girl, who scarcely took any notice of her, she thought, acquiesced in the orders she gave. Lottie rang the bell. She said, “You will prefer, I am sure, to give Mary her orders without me. There are not many keys, but I will go and get what I have.”
“Not many keys! and you call yourself a housekeeper?” said Polly. Lottie turned away as the little maid came in, looking impertinent enough to be a match for the new mistress; but Lottie was no match for her. She went and got out her little housekeeping-book, which she had kept so neatly. She gathered the keys of the cupboards, which generally stood unlocked, for there was not so much in them that she should lock them up. Lottie had all the instincts of a housekeeper. It gave her positive pain to hand over the symbols of office—to give up her occupation. Her heart sank as she prepared to do it. All her struggles about the bills, her anxious thought how this and that was to be paid, seemed elements of happiness now. She could not bear to give them up. The pain of this compulsory abdication drove everything else out of her head. Love, they say, is all a woman’s life, but only part of a man’s; yet Lottie forgot even Rollo—forgot his love and all the consolation it might bring, in this other emergency, which was petty enough, yet all-important to her. She trembled as she got together these little symbols of her domestic sovereignty. She heard the new mistress of the house coming up the stairs as she did so, talking all the way. “I never heard such impudence,” Polly was saying. “Speak back to her mistress! a bit of a chit of a maid-of-all-work like that. I suppose she’s been let do whatever she pleased; but she’ll find out the difference.” Behind Polly’s voice came a gust of weeping from below, and a cry of, “I’m going to tell mother:” thus hostilities had commenced all along the line.
“I can’t think how ever you got on with a creature like that,” said Polly, throwing herself down in the easy-chair. “She don’t know how to do a single thing, as far as I can see; but some folks never seem to mind. She shan’t stay here not a day longer than I can help. I’ve given her warning on the spot. To take impudence from a servant the very first day! But that’s always the way when things are let go; the moment they find a firm hand over them there’s a to-do. To be sure it wasn’t to be looked for that you could know much, Miss, about managing a house.”
“Mary is a very good girl,” said Lottie hastily. “She has always done what I told her. Here are the keys of the cupboards, since you wish for them; but there are not any stores to lock away. I get the things every week, just enough to use——”
“And don’t lock them up!” Polly threw up her hands. “That’s one way of housekeeping; but how should you know any better, poor thing, brought up like that! I’m sure I don’t mean to be hard upon you; but you should have thought a bit of your papa, and not have wasted his money. However, that’s all over now. A man wants a nice ’ome to come back to, he wants a nice dinner on the table, he wants somebody that can talk to him, to keep him out of mischief. Oh, I know very well the Captain’s been fond of having his fling. I ain’t one of the ignorant ones, as don’t know a man’s ways. And I like that sort much the best myself. I like a man to be a man, and know what’s what. But you’ll soon see the difference, now that he’s got some one to amuse him, and some one to make him comfortable at home. So these are all, Miss Lottie? And what’s this? oh, a book! I don’t think much of keeping books. You know how much you has to spend, and you spend it; that’s my way.”
Lottie made no reply. She felt it to be wiser for herself, but no doubt it was less respectful to Polly, who paused now and then for a reply, then went on again, loving to hear herself talk, yet feeling the contempt involved in this absence of all response. At last she cried angrily, “Have you lost your tongue, Miss, or do you think as I’m not good enough to have an answer, though I’m your papa’s wife?”