“I may be wrong,” she said, “I may be carrying my suspicions too far. We are all apt to do that when all firm ground of confidence is taken from our feet. But, my dear Lucy, you should have never taken her in on the strength of written characters of however fair seeming.”
“But how unjust that would be!” pleaded Lucy. “It would mean that if a woman left the neighbourhood where she had worked, or if employers themselves left it, then she would not be able to get another place.”
“No, no, Lucy,” explained the old lady, “there is a difference. A personal interview between past and future employers is always best, because, apart from the easiness with which questions are asked and answered, it has an environment which tells a tale of itself. But it is quite true that this cannot always be. Then the new mistress should always address herself directly to the people willing to give ‘the character.’ Even that leaves some opening for chicanery; but it is small indeed compared with that which attends ready-made certificates. You yourself should have written to the doctor and the lawyer.”
“I did not like the idea of the written character,” said Lucy, in self-excuse. “I think I might have hesitated to take it from a supposed former mistress. But these were professional men; they might not have cared to be troubled with letters of inquiry in such matters; and then, too, when she left Scotland, she had not thought of going at once in quest of a situation. I assure you those letters seemed to be the productions of educated men, and the paper they were on was stamped with the lawyer’s address and with the name of the minister’s manse.”
“As I tell you, my dear, I may be going too far,” said Miss Latimer; “but I assure you my experience in other cases justifies it. Do you remember the addresses given?”
“No, I do not,” answered poor Lucy, who began to feel that she had been woefully unwary. “And oh, if you had only seen how nice this Mrs. Morison looked among all those other women, I’m sure you too would have felt ready to trust her! How can one understand such people, who know so well what ought to be, and who have it in them to simulate it so perfectly when it suits them for a time, but who keep their other nature all the same, always ready to spring to the front? How are we to realise which is really they? Is it possible that they themselves are not quite sure? Why, I really thought that the only fault to be detected in Mrs. Morison was just a touch of self-satisfaction, a little turning of the Pharisee’s nose returning thanks for superiority over others.”
Miss Latimer shook her head.
“Ah, my dear,” she said, “you are diving deep into the abysses of human nature. The questions you ask may be also put concerning very different people from this poor woman. Perhaps such questions might be asked, in a degree, concerning all of us—at least, until we begin to put them to ourselves and to know all that is meant by God’s desiring ‘truth in the inward parts.’ Mrs. Morison tells lies. She is, according to my belief, a very deliberate and skilful deceiver; but far be it from me to say that her hypocrisies may not reveal what was once her ideal—ay, and that, in some vague way, she may still mean to live up to it—only foredoomed to failure because she begins with false pretences. My dear, we talk about criminals and weak and fallen people of all sorts as ‘having our common human nature’; but, talk as we may, we rarely realise it. The temptations they have are so different that this difference blinds us to the truth that their thoughts and feelings and failures are made of the same stuff as our own. Mrs. Morison is a deceiver of others; but it is quite possible that she is also a self-deceiver.”
“I cannot see what interest such a capable woman could have in taking trouble to lay deliberate plots of deception to get into such a place, and then taking no more trouble to keep up the deception, and so losing it in two months,” said Lucy. “What has she made by it? She has done lots of work, and has earned less than three pounds.”
“There it is!” cried Miss Latimer. “You must remember we are looking at it from what you have believed and from what has happened. From all that transpires of the cousin’s lack of truthfulness, it is quite likely that Mrs. Morison had not been out of a place for many days when you took her. We will, for convenience’ sake, grant that the Edinburgh story is true; then if she gets another place to-morrow (as with her appearance she easily may) she will simply tell the same story she told you, and will ignore her experience of your place as if it had never been. And it is quite likely she will go to the new place—as it is likely she came to you—believing that she means to turn over a new leaf and to be what she seems. In the meantime we must leave off talking about her and consider what you are to do next. You must get another servant as soon as possible. You cannot be without help in this house, apart from the engagements that begin with the New Year.”