“Have you said your prayers?” asked Kezia.
“Yes, I never forget to do that,” answered Owen.
“Good night, my child,” she said; “the Lord watch over you and keep you.” Taking the light she left him.
His slumbers were peaceful. Kezia took care to call him betimes in the morning.
“The old man is off early, and he would not be pleased if you were not ready to start with him,” she said.
When Owen came down he saw Mr Fluke in the garden, holding a conference with Joseph. He presently came in to breakfast, which was as ample a meal as the supper had been.
Kezia put a small paper parcel into Owen’s pocket.
“That will be for your dinner,” she said; “you’ll want something before you come back, and you’ll get nothing there fit to eat. It’s as bad to let growing boys starve as to leave plants without water, as Joseph Crump says,” and she looked hard at her master.
“Kezia’s a wonderful woman,” remarked Mr Fluke, after she had left the room. “I have a great respect for her, as you see. She is worth her weight in gold; she keeps everything in order, her husband and me to boot. Years ago, before she came to me, I had a large black tom cat; he was somewhat of a pet, and as I kept him in order, he always behaved properly in my presence. He had, however, a great hatred of all strangers, especially of the woman kind, and no female beggar ever came to the door but he went out and arched his back, and spat and screeched and hissed at her until she took her departure. When I engaged Kezia and Joseph Crump, I thought Tom would understand that they were inmates of the house, and behave properly. But the very first time Kezia went upstairs, after she and her husband had installed themselves in their room below, there was Tom standing on the landing with his back up lashing his tail, and making a most hideous noise. Most women would have turned round and run down again, or perhaps tumbled over and broken their necks; but Kezia advanced, keeping her eye on Tom, and as he sprang at her, she guessing that he would do so, seized him by the neck and held him at arm’s length until every particle of breath was squeezed out of his body. ‘There,’ she exclaimed, as she threw him over the banisters, ‘two cannot rule in one house,’ and she went upstairs and commenced her work. When I arrived at home, and saw Tom lying dead on the floor, I asked who had killed the cat. ‘I killed him,’ answered Kezia, and she then told me how it had happened. ‘If you think I was wrong, and don’t like it, give me a month’s warning; I am ready to go,’ she said. I didn’t say a word in reply, and I tell you I have a greater respect for that woman than for any of her sex, and maybe I have more fear of her than I ever had of old Tom, who, once or twice, until I taught him better manners, had shown his evil disposition even to me.”
“Mrs Kezia is a very kind, good woman,” observed Owen; “I am sure of that.”