Part 21 (1/2)

A PEEVISH DAY, AND ITS CONSEQUENCES.

”IT is too bad, Rachael, to put me to all this trouble; and you know I can hardly hold up my head!”

Thus spoke Mrs. Smith, in a peevish voice, to a quiet-looking domestic, who had been called up from the kitchen to supply some unimportant omission in the breakfast-table arrangement.

Rachael looked hurt and rebuked, but made no reply.

”How could you speak in that way to Rachael?” said Mr. Smith, as soon as the domestic had withdrawn.

”If you felt just as I do, Mr. Smith, you would speak cross too!”

Mrs. Smith replied a little warmly. ”I feel just like a rag; and my head aches as if it would burst.”

”I know you feel badly, and I am very sorry for you. But still, I suppose it is as easy to speak kindly as harshly. Rachael is very obliging and attentive, and should be borne with in occasional omissions, which you of course know are not wilful.”

”It is easy enough to preach,” retorted Mrs. Smith, whose temper, from bodily la.s.situde and pain, was in quite an irritable state. The reader will understand at least one of the reasons of this, when he is told that the scene here presented occurred during the last oppressive week in August.

Mr. Smith said no more. He saw that to do so would only be to provoke instead of quieting his wife's ill-humour. The morning meal went by in silence, but little food pa.s.sing the lips of either. How could it, when the thermometer was ninety-four at eight o'clock in the morning, and the leaves upon the trees were as motionless as if suspended in a vacuum? Bodies and minds were relaxed--and the one turned from food, as the other did from thought, with an instinctive aversion.

After Mr. Smith had left his home for his place of business, Mrs.

Smith went up into her chamber, and threw herself upon the bed, her head still continuing to ache with great violence. It so happened that a week before, the chambermaid had gone away, sick, and all the duties of the household had in consequence devolved upon Rachael, herself not very well. Cheerfully, however, had she endeavoured to discharge these acc.u.mulated duties, and but for the unhappy, peevish state of mind in which Mrs. Smith indulged, would have discharged them without a murmuring thought. But, as she was a faithful, conscientious woman, and, withal, sensitive in her feelings, to be found fault with worried her exceedingly. Of this Mrs. Smith was well aware, and had, until the latter part of the trying month of August, acted toward Rachael with consideration and forbearance. But the last week of August was too much for her. The sickness of the chambermaid threw such heavy duties upon Rachael, whose daily headaches and nervous relaxation of body were borne without a complaint, that their perfect performance was almost impossible.

Slight omissions, which were next to unavoidable under the circ.u.mstances, became so annoying to Mrs. Smith, herself, as it has been seen, labouring under great bodily and mental prostration, that she could not bear them.

”She knows better, and she could do better, if she chose,” was her rather uncharitable comment often inwardly made on the occurrence of some new trouble.

After Mr. Smith had taken his departure on the morning just referred to, Mrs. Smith went up into her chamber, as has been seen, and threw herself languidly upon a bed, pressing her hands to her throbbing temples, as she did so, and murmuring,

”I can't live at this rate!”

At the same time, Rachael set down in the kitchen the large waiter upon which she had arranged the dishes from the breakfast-table, and then sinking into a chair, pressed one hand upon her forehead, and sat for more than a minute in troubled silence. It had been three days since she had received from Mrs. Smith a pleasant word; and the last remark, made to her a short time before, had been the unkindest of all. At another time, even all this would not have moved her--she could have perceived that Mrs. S. was not in a right state--that la.s.situde of body had produced a temporary infirmity of mind. But, being herself affected by the oppressive season almost as much as her mistress, she could not make these allowances. While still seated, the chamber-bell was rung with a quick, startling jerk.

”What next?” peevishly e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Rachael, and then slowly proceeded to obey the summons.

”How could you leave my chamber in such a condition as this?” was the salutation that met her ear, as she entered the presence of Mrs.

Smith, who, half raised upon the bed, and leaning upon her hand, looked the very personification of languor, peevishness, and ill-humour. ”You had plenty of time while we were eating breakfast to have put things a little to rights!”

To this Rachael made no reply, but turned away and went back into the kitchen. She had scarcely reached that spot, before the bell rang again, louder and quicker than before; but she did not answer it. In about three minutes it was jerked with an energy that snapped the wire, but Rachael was immovable. Five minutes elapsed, and then Mrs. Smith, fully aroused from the lethargy that had stolen over her, came down with a quick, firm step.

”What's the reason you didn't answer my bell? say!” she asked, in an excited voice.

Rachael did not reply.

”Do you hear me?”

Rachael had never been so treated before; she had lived with Mrs.

Smith for three years, and had rarely been found fault with. She had been too strict in regard to the performance of her duty to leave much room for even a more exacting mistress to find fault; but now, to be overtasked and sick, and to be chidden, rebuked, and even angrily a.s.sailed, was more than she could well bear. She did not suffer herself to speak for some moments, and then her voice trembled, and the tears came out upon her cheeks.

”I wish you to get another in my place. I find I don't suit you. My time will be up day after tomorrow.”