Part 8 (1/2)

She and I took all the care of it and the key to the iron gate of it lay out on her low work table, and one or other of us always pa.s.sing through, but one afternoon in summer when I went with a basket of June roses, she being not quite up to it that day, there on the flat stone I saw with my own eyes a little crumpled bunch of daisies--all nipped off short, such as children pick, and crushed and wilted in their hot little hands! And on no other tomb but his. But I was used to such as that, by then....

Margaret was handy with her needle, and I remember well the day she made the linen garden hat with a knot of rose-colour under the brim.

”You don't think this will be too old, do you, ma'am?” she said when she showed it to my mistress, and the dear lady was that pleased!

”Not a bit, Margaret,” she said and I carried it off to Miss Winifred's closet. Many's the time I missed it after that, and knew too much to hunt. It was hunting that spoiled all, for we tried it....

And yet we didn't half believe. Heaven help us, we knew, but we didn't believe: St. Thomas was nothing to us!

Margaret was with us three years when the new family came. Hodges told us that Hudson River property was looking up and land was worth more every year. Anyway, in one year two families built big houses within a mile of us and we went to call, of course, as in duty bound. John grumbled at getting out the good harness and having the carriage re-lined, but my mistress knew what was right, and he had no choice. I dressed her very carefully, and we watched her off from the door, a thought too pale in her black, but sweet as a flower, and every inch full of breeding, as Hodges said.

I never knew what took place at that visit, but she came back with a bright red circle in each cheek and her head very high, and spent all the evening in the nursery. Alone, of course, for I heard little quick sounds on the piano in the drawing-room, and the fairy books were gone from the children's book-shelves, and Margaret found them in front of the fire and brought them to me....

It was only three days before the new family called on us (a pair of ponies to a basket phaeton--very neat and a nice little groom) and my heart jumped into my mouth when I saw there were two children in with the lady: little girls of eight and twelve, I should say. 'Twas the first carriage callers that ever I'd seen in the place, and Hodges says to me as he goes toward the hall,

”This is something like, eh, Miss Umbleby?”

But I felt odd and uncertain, and when from behind the library door I heard the lady say, ”You see I've kept my word and brought my babies, Mrs. Childress--my son is hardly old enough for yours--only four--but Helena and Lou can't wait--they are so impatient to see your little girl!”--when I heard that, I saw what my poor mistress had been at, and the terrible situation we were in (and had been in for years) flashed over me and my hands got cold as ice.

”Where is she?” the lady went on.

At that I went boldly into the library and stood by my mistress's chair--I couldn't desert her then, after all those years.

”Where? where?” my poor lady repeated, vague-like and turning her eyes so piteous at me that I looked the visitor straight in the face and getting between her and my mistress I said very calmly,

”I think Miss Winifred is in the children's garden, madam; shall I take the young ladies there?”

For my thought was to get the children out of the way, before it all came out, you see.

Oh, the look of grat.i.tude she gave me! And yet it was a mad thing to do. But I couldn't desert her--I couldn't.

”There, you see, mamma!” cried the youngest, and the older one said,

”We can find our way, thank you,” very civil, to me.

”Children have sharp eyes,” said the lady, laughing. ”One can't hide them from each other--haven't you found it so?”

”Now what the devil does she mean by that?” Hodges muttered to me as he pa.s.sed by me with the tray. He always kept the silver perfect, and it did one's heart good to see his tray: urn and sugar and cream just twinkling and the toast in a covered dish--old Chelsea it was--and new cakes and jam and fresh b.u.t.ter, just as they have at home.

I don't know what they talked of, for I couldn't find any excuse to stop in the room, and she wouldn't have had it, anyway. I went around to the front to catch the children when they should come back, and quiet them, but they didn't come, and I was too thankful to think much about it.

After about half an hour I saw the oldest one coming slowly along by herself, looking very sulky.

”Where's your sister, dear?” I said, all in a tremble, for I dreaded how she might put it.

”She's too naughty--I can't get her to leave,” she said pettishly, and burst into the library ahead of me. My mistress's face was scarlet and her eyes like two big stars--for the first time I saw that she was a beauty. Her breath came very quick and I knew as well as if I'd been there all the time that she'd been letting herself go, as they say, and talked to her heart's content about what she'd never have a chance to talk again to any guest. She was much excited and the other woman knew it and was puzzled, I could see, from the way she looked at her.

Now the girl burst into the talk.

”Mamma, Lou is so naughty!” she cried. ”I saw the ponies coming up the drive, and I told her it was time, but she won't come!”