Part 45 (1/2)

Mary did not understand him, and made no reply. Another fit came. This time she kept her distance.

”Come here,” he howled; ”take my head in your hands.”

She obeyed.

”d.a.m.ned nice hands you've got!” he gasped; ”much nicer than your mistress's.”

Mary took no notice. Gently she withdrew her hands, for the fit was over.

”I see! that's the way of you!” he said, as she stepped back. ”But come now, tell me how it is that a nice, well-behaved, handsome girl like you, should leave a position where, they tell me, you were your own mistress, and take a cursed place as lady's maid to my wife.”

”It was because I liked Mrs. Redmain so much,” answered Mary. ”But, indeed, I was not very comfortable where I was.”

”What the devil did you see to like in her? I never saw anything!”

”She is so beautiful!” said Mary.

”Is she! ho! ho!” he laughed. ”What is that to another woman! You are new to the trade, my girl, if you think that will go down! One woman taking to another because 'she's so beautiful'! Ha! ha! ha!”

He repeated Mary's words with an indescribable contempt, and his laugh was insulting to a degree; but it went off in a cry of suffering.

”Hypocrisy mustn't be too barefaced,” he resumed, when again his torture abated. ”I didn't make you stop to amuse me! It's little of that this beastly world has got for me! Come, a better reason for waiting on my wife?”

”That she was kind to me,” said Mary, ”may be a better reason, but it is not a truer.”

”It's more than ever she was to me! What wages does she give you?”

”We have not spoken about that yet, sir.”

”You haven't had any?”

”I haven't wanted any yet.”

”Then what the deuce ever made you come to this house?”

”I hoped to be of some service to Mrs. Redmain,” said Mary, growing troubled.

”And you ain't of any? Is that why you don't want wages?”

”No, sir. That is not the reason.”

”Then what _is_ the reason? Come! Trust me. I will be much better to you than your mistress. Out with it! I knew there was something!”

”I would rather not talk more about it,” said Mary, knowing that her feeling in relation to Hesper would be altogether incredible, and the notion of it ridiculous to him.

”You needn't mind telling _me_! I know all about such things.--Look here! Give me that pocket-book on the table.”

Mary brought him the pocket-book. He opened it, and, taking from it some notes, held them out to her.

”If your mistress won't pay you your wages, I will. There! take that.

You're quite welcome. What matter which pays you? It all comes out of the same stocking-foot.”