Part 4 (1/2)
Poor plain Abigail! She will never have a handsome husband-nor any husband for that matter. For where would such a humble creature find a dowry; and who would marry her without?
One could not blame them, thought Abigail. It was perfectly true.
So she st.i.tched the dresses and quietly listened to Henrietta's abuse because she had not made a dazzling Court gown out of the materials provided; and she envied Henrietta, not her husband, but for the fact that she would escape from St. Albans.
Abigail attended the wedding, keeping well in the background. She briefly made the acquaintance of the G.o.dolphins. ”A connection of ours ... who is so useful in the house!” It spoke for itself; the G.o.dolphins briefly acknowledged the poor relation and promptly forgot she existed.
But there were some members of the household who did not forget her.
”The household has shrunk a little,” commented the Earl. ”When you and I go back to Court and young John takes up his position in Gloucester's household, there will only be the three girls here ... and of course Abigail Hill. Do they need Abigail now, do you think?”
”Need her?” said Sarah. ”They managed well enough before she came, but I understand she is meek and uncomplaining.”
”I do not doubt that, but it is an extra one to feed and those small creatures often have astonis.h.i.+ng appet.i.tes.”
”My dear Marl, I don't want the creature here, but what can I do?”
”Find her a place somewhere so that she is off our hands.”
”I will keep my eyes open. I do see what you mean. Why should she live at our expense when she might do so at someone else's. She is useful, of course.”
”But we did not dismiss any of the servants when she came to us.”
”That's true enough. I will see what can be done. If there is a place that it would not disgrace us for her to accept then she shall go. For as you say, why should we feed someone who brings no benefit to us.”
On matters of expense the Marlboroughs saw eye to eye. Abigail was a luxury they could do without; therefore they would give her to someone else.
With Henrietta and John gone, Abigail's life became less secure. She was aware that the Marlboroughs would consider she was scarcely worth her keep. John had now left to take up his position in the household of the Duke of Gloucester; and as there was no longer the wedding to discuss and prepare for, the house seemed much quieter. Anne was apprehensive-knowing her turn would come. She was more sensitive than her sister, but young Mary seemed to grow more and more like her mother and sister Henrietta, and her arrogance was disconcerting. She referred to Abigail as ”that Hill Creature” and turned up her nose when she mentioned her. Abigail disliked the child very much and longed more than ever to get away from St. Albans; but she never gave the slightest indication of her feelings; all Mary could provoke her to do was lower her eyes as though she feared that they alone could betray her dislike.
”It's a miracle what she puts up with,” commented the servants. ”Never gives a back answer-not even a look.”
”And what would happen to her if she did? I wouldn't be in her position-connected with gentry though she may be.”
”These poor relations! I'd rather be a servant ... good and proper. At least then you know your place.”
”She seems to know hers all right.”
”Her! Oh, she's got no feelings.”
”I wouldn't change places with that Abigail Hill ... not for all the money in the King's purse!” was the summing up.
While Abigail was wondering how she endured such a life and was contemplating what might happen to her when all the Churchill girls were married, Lady Marlborough arrived at St. Albans.
There was the usual fuss of arrival, the fond embraces from her children, the loud voice, raised in affection or delivering a scolding-whatever the occasion demanded. But the entire household sprang to life with the arrival of Lady Marlborough.
She had not been long in the house when she was demanding: ”Where is Abigail Hill?”
Abigail was summoned to the Countess's room and there Sarah, magnificently dressed, fresh from Court, greeted her, if not with affection without displeasure.
”There you are, Abigail Hill. And you are looking better than when I brought you here. Good food has improved you, Abigail. I hope you appreciate what I've done for you.”
”Yes, Lady Marlborough.”
”When I think of the state you were in when I found you all. Those ragged boys! I could not leave you like that, could I? I'll daresay you often think of those days and compare them with what you enjoy at St. Albans.”
One had to compare lack of food with lack of freedom, independence with patronage. It was difficult to say, Abigail decided, which was preferable. When one had enough to eat independence and dignity seemed the most precious acquisitions; but then when there was enough to eat one quickly forgot what it was like to be hungry.
She said meekly: ”Yes, Lady Marlborough.”
”I have many duties in the household of the Princess Anne, as you know; and there is a great drain on my time, but I have been thinking of you, which surprises you. Confess it.”
What answer was expected? With any other, one would have been surprised; but one knew that Lady Marlborough was so good, so kind, so thoughtful, so devoted to duty that she would not forget even the most humble and insignificant of poor relations.
Would she detect the sarcasm behind such a remark? Of course not. Her great pride and belief in herself would not permit her to see such irony.
”I did know, Lady Marlborough, that you are so very kind and ...”
”Ha! And you hoped I had not forgotten you? That was rather impertinent of you, Abigail Hill. Had I forgotten you? Did I not see that you were well provided for in this house?”
”Yes, Lady Marlborough.”
”Well, of what have you to complain?”
”I was not complaining, Lady Marlborough.” The face tinged with pink, the manner alarmed, scared humility in the eyes, the gesture of usually quiet hands.
”But all the same you hoped for a place at Court, did you not?”
”A place at Court. But Lady Marlborough, I ...”
”Oh, there are places and places. You did not expect that I was going to appoint you Secretary of State to his most Gracious Majesty. Eh, girl?”
”But no, Lady Marlborough.”
Sarah began to shake with laughter at the thought of Caliban's receiving Abigail Hill as his Secretary of State.
”It is not the King's household in which I would place you.”
Nor could you! thought Abigail. You are the last person to whom he would grant favours.
”But that of the Princess.”
”The Princess Anne?”
”Who else? You will see little of the Princess, of course. We need a quiet reliable woman to look after the maids. I thought of you. It will be a good opportunity for you. I did not intend to keep you at St. Albans all your life. The Princess leaves the choice of posts to me and when I knew we wanted a Mother of the Maids I thought of you.”
Abigail's face was faintly pink, and even she found it difficult to suppress her excitement. She would be near John and Alice; they could see each other, exchange experiences. At last Abigail was to have what the others were enjoying: a place at Court.