On the second day following, Mrs Garlick received a letter from "young
Lawton," the solicitor. Young Lawton, aged over forty, was not so-called
because in the Five Towns youthfulness is supposed to extend to the
confines of forty-five, but because he had succeeded his father, known
as "old Lawton"; it is true that the latter had been dead many years.
The Five Towns, however, is not a country of change. This letter pointed
out that Maria's wages were not £1, 13s. 4d. a month, but £1, 13s. 4d. a
month plus her board and lodging, and that consequently, in lieu of a
month's notice, Maria demanded £1, 13s. 4d. plus the value of a month's
keep.
There was more in this letter than met the eye of Mrs Garlick. Young
Lawton's offices were cleaned by a certain old woman; this old woman had
a nephew; this nephew was a warehouseman at the Mayor's works, and lived
up in Toft End, and at least twice every day he passed by Mrs Garlick's
house. He was a respectful worshipper of Maria's, and it had been
exclusively on his account that Maria had insisted on changing the
historic curtains. Nobody else of the slightest importance ever passed
in front of the house, for important people have long since ceased to
live at Toft End. The subtle flattering of an unspoken love had impelled
Maria to leave her situation rather than countenance soiled curtains.
She could not bear that the warehouseman should suspect her of
tolerating even the semblances of dirt. She had permitted the
warehouseman to hear the facts of her departure from Mrs Garlick's. The
warehouseman was nobly indignant, advising an action for assault and
battery. Through his aunt's legal relations Maria had been brought into
contact with the law, and, while putting aside as inadvisable an action
for assault and battery, the lawyer had counselled a just demand for
more money. Hence the letter.
Mrs Garlick called at Lawton's office, and, Mr Lawton being out, she
told an office-boy to tell him with her compliments that she should not
pay.
Then the County Court bailiff paid her a visit, and left with her a blue
summons for £2, 8s., being four weeks of twelve shillings each.
Many house-mistresses in Bursley sympathized with Mrs Garlick when she
fought this monstrous claim. She fought it gaily, with the aid of a
solicitor. She might have won it, if the County Court Judge had not
happened to be in one of his peculiar moods--one of those moods in which
he felt himself bound to be original at all costs. He delivered a
judgment sympathizing with domestic servants in general, and with Maria
in particular. It was a lively trial. That night the _Signal_ was very
interesting. When Mrs Garlick had finished with the action she had two
and threepence change out of a five-pound note.
Moreover, she was forced to employ a charwoman--a charwoman who had made
a fine art of breaking china, of losing silver teaspoons down sinks, and
of going home of a night with vast pockets full of things that belonged
to her by only nine-tenths of the law. The charwoman ended by tumbling
through a window, smashing panes to the extent of seventeen and
elevenpence, and irreparably ripping one of the historic curtains.
Mrs Garlick then dismissed the charwoman, and sat down to count the cost
of small economics. The privilege of half-dirty curtains had involved
her in an expense of _£9, 19s._, (call it £10). It was in the afternoon.
The figure of Maria crossed the recently-repaired window. Without a
second's thought Mrs Garlick rushed out of the house.
"Maria!" she cried abruptly--with grim humour. "Come here. Come right
inside."
Maria stopped, then obeyed.
"Do you know how much you've let me in for, with your wicked,
disobedient temper?"
"I'd have you know, mum--" Maria retorted, putting her hands on the hips
and forwarding her face.
Their previous scene together was as nothing to this one in sound and
fury. But the close was peace. The next day half Bursley knew that Maria
had gone back to Mrs Garlick, and there was a facetious note about the
episode in the "Day by Day" column of the _Signal_. The truth was that
Maria and Mrs Garlick were "made for each other." Maria would not look
at the ordinary "place." The curtains, as much as remained, were sent to
the wash, but as three months had elapsed the mistress reckoned that she
had won. Still, the cleansing of the curtains had run up to appreciably
more than a sovereign per curtain.
The warehouseman did not ask for Maria's hand. The stridency of her
behaviour in court had frightened him.
Mrs Garlick's chief hobby continues to be the small economy. Happily,
owing to a rise in the value of a land and a fortunate investment, she
is in fairly well-to-do circumstances.
As she said one day to an acquaintance, "It's a good thing I can afford
to keep a tight hand on things."