Part 6 (1/2)
”Want see my sis'er!” pleaded the baby voice, in tones of some impatience.
”Wilt be a good maid if thou come forth?” demanded Rachel of the culprit within.
”That is as may be,” returned Clare insubordinately.
”If I leave thee come forth, 'tis not for any thy goodness, but I would not be hard on thee in the first minute of thy home-coming, and I make allowance for thy coldness and weariness, that may cause thee to be pettish.”
Another little pull warned Rachel to cut short her lecture.
”Now, be a good maid! Come forth, then. Here is Blanche awaiting thee.”
Out came Clare, looking very far from penitent. But when Blanche toddled up, put her fat arms round her sister as far as they would go, and pouted up her little lips for a kiss,--to the astonishment of every one, Clare burst into tears. n.o.body quite knew why, and perhaps Clare could hardly have said herself. Barbara interposed, by coming forward and taking possession of her, with the apologetic remark--
”Fair cruel worn-out she is, poor heart!”
And Rachel condoned the affair, with--”Give her her supper, good wife, and put her abed. Jennet will show thee all needful.”
So Clare signalised her first entrance into her new home by rebellion and penalty.
The next morning rose brightly. Barbara and Jennet came to dress the four little girls, who all slept in one room; and took them out at once into the garden. Clare seemed to have forgotten the episode of the previous evening, and no one cared to remind her of it. Margaret had brought a ball with her, and the children set to work at play, with an amount of activity and interest which they would scarcely have bestowed upon work. Barbara and Jennet sat down on a wooden seat which ran round the trunk of a large ash-tree, and Jennet, pulling from her pocket a pair of knitting-needles and a ball of worsted, began to ply the former too quickly for the eye to follow.
”Of a truth, I would I had some matter of work likewise,” observed Barbara; ”I have been used to work hard, early and late, nor it liketh me not to sit with mine hands idle. Needs must that I pray my Lady of some task belike.”
”Do but say the like unto Mistress Rachel,” said Jennet, laughing, ”and I warrant thee thou'lt have work enough.”
”Mistress Rachel o'erseeth the maids work?”
”There's nought here but hoo [she] does o'ersee,” replied Jennet.
”She keepeth house, marry, by my Lady's direction?”
”Hoo does not get much direction, I reckon,” said Jennet.
”What, my Lady neither makes nor meddles?”
Jennet laughed. ”I ne'er saw her make yet so much as an apple turno'er.
As for tapestry work, and such, hoo makes belike. But I'll just tell thee:--Sir Thomas is our master, see thou. Well, his wife's his mistress. And Mistress Rachel's her mistress. And Mistress Blanche is Mistress Rachel's mistress. Now then, thou knowest somewhat thou didn't afore.”
”And who is Mistress Blanche's mistress or master belike?” demanded Barbara, laughing in her turn.
”Nay, I've getten to th' top,” said Jennet. ”I can go no fur'.”
”There'll be a master some of these days, I cast no doubt,” observed Barbara, drily.
”Happen,” returned Jennet. ”But 'tis a bit too soon yet, I reckon.-- Mrs Meg, yon's the breakfast bell.”
Margaret caught the ball from Clare, and pocketed it, and the whole party went into the hall for breakfast. Here the entire family a.s.sembled, down to the meanest scullion-lad. Jennet took Clare's hand, and led her up to the high table, at which Mistress Rachel had already taken her seat, while Sir Thomas and Lady Enville were just entering from the door behind it.
”Ha! who cometh here?” asked Sir Thomas, cheerily. ”My new daughter, I warrant. Come hither, little maid!”