Several times he was detected by Mrs. Meredith thus idling within doors, and was sharply reproved for it. Neither to this, nor to the squire’s orders that he should put an end to his “night-walking” and to his trips to the village, did he pay the slightest heed.
Fownes entered the kitchen one morning in November while Janice and Sukey were deep in the making of some grape jelly, carrying an armful of wood; for the bond-servant for once had willingly assumed a task that had hitherto been Tom’s. Putting the logs down in the wood-box, he stood with back to the fire, studying Miss Meredith, as, well covered with a big apron, with rolled up sleeves, flyaway locks, and flushed cheeks, she pounded away in a mortar, reducing loaf sugar to usable shape.
“Now youse clar right out of yar,” said Sukey, who, though the one servant who was fond of Charles, like all good cooks, was subject to much ferment of mind when preserving was to the fore. “We uns doan want no men folks clutterin’ de fire.”
“Ah, Sukey,” besought Charles, appealingly, “there ’s a white frost this morning, and ’t is bitter outside. Let me just warm my fingers?”
Sukey promptly relented, but the chill in Fownes’ fingers was clearly not unendurable, for in a moment he came to the table, and putting his hand over that of Janice, which held the pestle, he said:—
“Let me do the crushing. ’T is too hard work for you.”
“I wish you would,” Miss Meredith somewhat breathlessly replied. “My arms are almost ready to drop off.”
“’T would set the quidnuncs discussing to which of the Greek goddesses they belonged,” remarked Fownes. Then he was sorry he had said it, for Miss Meredith promptly unrolled her sleeves; not because in her secret heart she did not like the speech, but because of a consciousness that Charles was noticing what the Greek goddesses generally lack. A low-cut frock was almost the unvarying dress of the ladies, there was nothing wrong in the display of an ankle, and elbow sleeves were very much the vogue, but to bare the arms any higher was an immodesty not permitted to those who were then commonly termed the “bon ton.”
This addition to the working staff promptly produced an order from Sukey for Janice to assume the duty of stirring a pot just placed over the fire, “while I ’se goes down cellar an’ cars a shelf for them jellies to set on. Keep a stirrin’, honey, so ’s it won’t burn,” was her parting injunction.
No sooner was the cook out of hearing than Charles spoke: "For two days,” he said in a low voice, “I have tried to get word with you. Won’t you come to the stable when I am there?”