MRS. JANET BLODGETT.
It was a chilly, rainy afternoon toward the latter part of August.
John was gone, the doctor was cross, and Hannah was cross. Nellie,
too, was unusually irritable, and venting her spite upon Hannah
because there was nothing for dinner fit to eat, and upon Maude
because the house was so desolate and dark, she crept away upstairs,
and wrapping a shawl round her, sat down to a novel, pausing
occasionally to frown at the rain which beat at the windows or the
wind as it roared dismally through the trees. While thus employed
she heard the sound of wheels, and looking up, saw standing before
their gate a muddy wagon, from which a little, dumpy figure in black
was alighting, carefully holding up her alpaca dress, and carrying
in one hand a small box which seemed to be full of flowers.
"She must have come to stay a long time," thought Nellie, as she saw
the piles of baggage which the driver was depositing upon the stoop.
"Who can it be?" she continued, as she recalled all her aunts and
cousins, and found that none of them answered the description of
this woman, who knocked loudly at the door, and then walked in to
shelter herself from the storm.
"Forlornity!" Nellie heard her exclaim, as she left the chamber in
answer to the summons. "Forlornity! No table, no hat-stand, no
nothin', and the dingiest old ile-cloth! What does it mean? Your
servant, miss," she added, dropping a courtesy to Nellie, who now
stood on the stairs, with her finger between the pages of her book,
so as not to lose the place. "I guess I've made a mistake," said the
woman; "is this Dr. Canady's?"
"It is," answered Nellie, and the stranger continued, "Dr. Canady
who married the widder Remington?"
"The same," returned Nellie, thinking how unmercifully she would
tease Maude should this prove to be any of her relations.
"And who be you?" asked the stranger, feeling a little piqued at the
coldness of her reception.
"I am Miss Helen--Dr. Kennedy's daughter," answered the young lady,
assuming an air of dignity, which was not at all diminished by the
very, expressive "Mortal!" which dropped from the woman's lips.
"Can I do anything for you?" asked Nellie, and the stranger
answered: "Yes, go and call Maude, but don't tell her who I am."
She forgot that Nellie did not herself know who she was, and sitting
down upon her trunk, she waited while Nellie hurried to the kitchen,
where, over a smoky fire, Maude was trying in vain to make a bit of
nicely browned toast for her mother, who had expressed a wish for
something good to eat.
"Here, Maude," called out Nellie, "your grandmother or aunt has
come, I guess, and wants to see you in the hall."
"It's Janet--it's Janet, I know!" screamed Maude, and leaving her
slice of bread to burn and blacken before the fire, she hurried
away, while Nellie, who had heard nothing of the letter sent the
week before, wondered much who the "witched old thing with the
poking black bonnet could be."
With a cry of delight Maude wound her arms around the neck of her
old nurse, whom she knew in a moment, though Janet had more
difficulty in recognizing the little girl of other years in the
womanly looking maiden before her.
"It beats all how you've changed," she said, "though your eyes and
hair are the same," and she passed her hand caressingly over the
short glossy curls. Then looking intently in Maude's face she
continued. "You've grown handsome, child."
"No, no, not handsome, Janet; Nellie is the beauty of the house,"
and Maude shook her head mournfully, for on the subject of beauty
she was a little sensitive, her sister always pronouncing her "a
fright," and manifesting a most unamiable spirit if anyone
complimented her in the least.
"What, that yaller-haired, white-face chit who went for you?"
rejoined Janet. "No such thing; but tell me now of your marm. How
sick is she, and what of the little boy? Is he much deformed?"
"Come in here," said Maude, leading the way into the parlor, and
drawing a chair close to Janet, she told all she deemed it necessary
to tell.
But the quick-witted Janet knew there was something more, and
casting a scornful glance around the room she said: "You are a good
girl, Maude; but you can't deceive an old girl like me. I knew by
the tremblin' way you writ that somethin' was wrong, and started the
first blessed morning after gettin' your letter. I was calculating
to come pretty soon, anyway, and had all my arrangements made. So I
can stay a good long spell--always, mebby--for I'm a widder now,"
and she heaved a few sighs to the memory of Mr. Joel Blodgett, who,
she said, "had been dead a year," adding, in a whisper, "but there's
one consolation--he willed me all his property," and she drew from
her belt a huge silver time-piece, which she was in the habit of
consulting quite often, by way of showing that "she could carry a
watch as well as the next one."
After a little her mind came back from her lamented husband, and she
gave Maude a most minute account of her tedious ride in a lumber-wagon
from Canandaigua to Laurel Hill, for the stage had left when
she reached the depot, and she was in too great a hurry to remain at
the hotel until the next morning.
"But what of that doctor--do you like him?" she said at last, and
Maude answered: "Never mind him now; let us see mother first, or
rather let me see to her dinner," and she arose to leave the room.
"You don't like him," continued Janet, "and I knew you wouldn't; but
your poor mother, I pity her. Didn't you say you was gettin' her
something to eat? She's had a good time waitin', but I'll make
amends by seein' to her dinner myself," and spite of Maude's
endeavors to keep her back she followed on into the disorderly
kitchen, from which Nellie had disappeared, and where old Hannah sat
smoking her pipe as leisurely as if on the table there were not
piles of unwashed dishes, to say nothing of the unswept floor and
dirty hearth.
"What a hole!" was Janet's involuntary exclamation, to which Hannah
responded a most contemptuous "Umph!" and thus was the war-cry
raised on either side. "What was you goin' to git for your mother?"
asked Janet, without deigning to notice the portly African, who
smoked on in dignified silence.
"Toast and tea," answered Maude, and casting a deprecating glance at
the fire Janet continued: "You can't make any toast fit for a
heathen to eat by that fire. Aint there any dry wood--kindlin' nor
nothin'?" and she walked into the woodshed, where, spying a pine
board, she seized the ax and was about to commence operations when
Hannah called out: "Ole marster 'll be in yer ha'r if you tache
that."
"I aint afraid of your old marster," answered Janet, and in a moment
the board, which Dr. Kennedy would not suffer John to use because he
might want it for something, was crackling on the fire.
The hearth was swept, the tea-kettle hung in the blaze, and then,
with a look of perfect delight, Janet sat down to make the toast,
fixing it just as she knew Matty liked it best.
"Biled eggs will be good for her digester, and if I only had one
dropped in water," she said, and quick as thought Maude brought her
one, while Hannah growled again, "Ole marster 'll raise de ruff,
case he put 'em away to sell."
"Ole marster be hanged!" muttered Janet, breaking not one, but
three, into the water, for her own stomach began to clamor for food.
Everything was ready at last; a clean towel covered the server, the
fragrant black tea was made, the boiled egg was laid upon the toast,
and then Janet said, "She ought to have a rellish--preserves, jelly,
baked apple, or somethin'," and she opened a cupboard door, while
Hannah, springing to her feet, exclaimed, "Quit dat; thar aint no
sich truck in dis house."
But Janet's sharp eye had discovered behind a pile of papers, rags,
and dried herbs a tumbler of currant jelly, which Hannah had
secretly made and hidden away for her own private eating. Hannah's
first impulse was to snatch the jelly from Janet's hand, but feeling
intuitively that in the resolute Scotchwoman she had a mistress, and
fearing lest Maude should betray her to the doctor she exclaimed,
"If that aint the very stuff Miss Ruggles sent in for Miss Matty! I
forgot it till this blessed minit!" and shutting the cupboard door,
she stood with her back against it lest Janet should discover sundry
other delicacies hidden away for a like purpose.
"Mother has not had a feast like this--and she'll enjoy it so much,"
said Maude, as she started up the stairs followed by Janet, who, ere
they reached the chamber, suddenly stopped, saying, "I tell you what
'tis, if she knows I'm here she won't eat a mou'ful, so you say
nothin', and when she's through I'll come."
This seemed reasonable to Maude, who, leaving Janet to look through
a crevice in the door, entered alone into her mother's presence.
Mrs. Kennedy had waited long for Maude, and at last, weary with
listening to the rain, which made her feel so desolate and sad, she
fell asleep, as little Louis at her side had done before her; but
Maude's cheering voice awoke her.
"Look, mother," she cried, "see the nice dinner!" and her own eyes
fairly danced as she placed the tray upon the table before her
mother, who, scarcely less pleased, exclaimed, "A boiled egg--and
jelly, too!--I've wanted them both so much. How did it happen?"
"Eat first, and then I'll tell you," answered Maude, propping her up
with pillows, and setting the server in her lap.
"It tastes like old times--like Janet," said the invalid, and from
the room without, where Janet watched, there came a faint, choking
sound, which Matty thought was the wind and which Maude knew was
Janet.
Through the door she caught sight of her mistress, whose white,
wasted face wrung from her that cry. Stuffing her handkerchief into
her mouth, she waited until toast, tea, egg, and all had
disappeared, then, with the exclamation, "She's et 'em all up slick
and clean," she walked into the room.
It would be impossible to describe that meeting, when the poor sick
woman bowed her weary head upon the motherly bosom of her faithful
domestic, weeping most piteously while Janet folded her lovingly in
her arms, saying to her soothingly, "Nay, now, Matty darling--nay,
my bonnie bird--take it easy like--take is easy, and you'll feel
better."
"You won't leave me, will you?" sobbed Matty, feeling that it would
not be hard to die with Janet standing near.
"No, honey, no," answered Janet, "I'll stay till one or t'other of
us is carried down the walk and across the common where them
gravestones is standin', which I noticed when I drove up."
"It will be me, Janet. It will be me," said Matty. "They will bury
me beneath the willows, for the other one is lying there, oh, so
peacefully."
Louis was by this time awake, and taking him upon her lap Janet
laughed and cried alternately, mentally resolving that so long as
she should live, she would befriend the little helpless boy, whose
face, she said, "was far winsomer than any she had ever seen."
Then followed many mutual inquiries, during which Matty learned that
Janet was a widow, and had really come to stay if necessary.
"I'm able now to live as I please, for I've got property," said
Janet, again consulting the silver watch, as she usually did when
speaking of her husband's will.
Many questions, too, did Matty ask concerning her former home--her
friends--her flowers--and Harry's grave; "was it well kept now, or
was it overrun with weeds?"
To this last question Janet did not reply directly, but making some
excuse for leaving the room, she soon returned, bearing in one hand
a box in which a small rose-bush was growing. In the other hand she
held a beautiful bouquet which, having been kept moist, looked
almost as fresh as when it was first gathered. This she gave to
Matty, saying, "They grew on Harry's grave. I picked 'em myself
yesterday morning before I left; and this," pointing to the rose-bush,
"is a root I took from there last spring on purpose for you,
for I meant to visit you this fall."
Need we say those flowers were dearer to Matty than the wealth of
the Indies would have been! They had blossomed on Harry's grave--his
dust had added to them life, and as if they were indeed a part of
him, she hugged them to her heart--kissing them through her tears
and blessing Janet for the priceless gift.
"Don't tell him, though," she whispered, and a deep flush mounted to
her cheek as on the stairs she heard a heavy footstep, and knew that
Dr. Kennedy was coming!
He had been in the kitchen, demanding of Hannah, "Whose is all that
baggage in the hall?" and Hannah, glad of an opportunity to "free
her mind," had answered, "Some low-lived truck or other that they
called 'Janet,' and a body'd s'pose she owned the house, the way she
went on, splittin' up yer board for kindlin', makin' missus' toast
swim in butter, and a-bilin' three of them eggs you laid away to
sell. If she stays here, this nigger won't--that's my 'pinion," and
feeling greatly injured she left the kitchen, while Dr. Kennedy,
with a dark, moody look upon his face, started for the sick-room.
He knew very well who his visitor was, and when his wife said,
"Husband, this is my faithful Janet, or rather Mrs. Blodgett now.
Wasn't it kind in her to come so far to see me?" he merely nodded
coolly to Mrs. Blodgett, who nodded as coolly in return; then,
turning to his wife, he said, "You seem excited, my dear, and this
ought not to be. 'Tis a maxim of mine that company is injurious to
sick people. What do you think, Mrs. Blodgett?"
Mrs. Blodgett didn't think anything save that he was a most
disagreeable man, and as she could not say this in his presence, she
made no particular answer. Glancing toward the empty plate which
stood upon the table, he continued, "Hannah tells me, my dear, that
you have eaten three boiled eggs. I wonder at your want of
discretion, when you know how indigestible they are," and his eye
rested reprovingly on Janet, who now found her tongue, and starting
up, exclaimed, "One biled egg won't hurt anybody's digester, if it's
ever so much out of kilter--but the jade lied. Two of them eggs I
cooked for myself, and I'll warrant she's guzzled 'em down before
this. Anyway, I'll go and see," and she arose to leave the room.
Just as she reached the door the doctor called after her, saying,
"Mrs. Blodgett, I observed a trunk or two in the lower hall, which I
presume are yours. Will you have them left there, or shall I bring
them up to your chamber? You will stay all night with us, of
course!"
For an instant Janet's face was crimson, but forcing down her wrath
for Matty's sake, she answered, "I shall probably stay as long as
that," and slamming together the door she went downstairs, while
Matty said sadly, "Oh, husband, how could you thus insult her when
you knew she had come to stay a while at least, and that her
presence would do me so much good?"
"How should I know she had come to stay, when I've heard nothing
about it," was the doctor's reply; and then in no mild terms he gave
his opinion of the lady--said opinion being based on what old Hannah
had told him.
There were tears in Matty's eyes, and they dropped from her long
eye-lashes as, taking the doctor's hand, she said: "Husband, you
know that I'm going to die--that ere the snow is falling you will be
a second time alone. And you surely will not refuse me when I ask
that Janet shall stay until the last. When I am gone you will,
perhaps, be happier in the remembrance that you granted me one
request."
There was something in the tone of her voice far more convincing
than her words, and when she added, "She does not expect wages, for
she has money of her own," Dr. Kennedy yielded the point,
prophesying the while that there would be trouble with Hannah.
Meantime Mrs. Blodgett had wended her way to the kitchen, meeting in
the way with Nellie, around whose mouth there was a substance
greatly resembling the yolk of an egg! Thus prepared for the worst,
Janet was not greatly disappointed when she found that her eggs had
been disposed of by both the young lady and Hannah, the latter of
whom was too busy with her dishes to turn her head or in any way
acknowledge the presence of a second person.
"Joel Blodgett's widow ought to be above havin' words with a
nigger," was Janet's mental comment as she contented herself with a
slice of bread and a cup of tea, which, by this time, was of quite a
reddish hue.
Her hunger being satisfied, she began to feel more amiably disposed
toward the old negress, whose dishes she offered to wipe. This
kindness was duly appreciated by Hannah, and that night, in speaking
of Janet to her son, she pronounced her "not quite so onery a white
woman as she at first took her to be."
As the days wore on Janet's presence in the family was felt in
various ways. To Matty it brought a greater degree of happiness than
she had experienced since she left her New England home, while even
the doctor acknowledged an increased degree of comfort in his
household, though not willing at first to attribute it to its proper
source. He did not like Janet; her ideas were too extravagant for
him, and on several different occasions he hinted quite strongly
that she was not wanted there; but Janet was perfectly invincible to
hints, and when at one time he embodied them in language that could
not be misunderstood, telling her, "'twas a maxim of his that if a
person had a home of their own they had better stay there," she
promptly replied that "'twas a maxim of hers to stay where she
pleased, particularly as she was a woman of property," and so, as
she pleased to stay there, she stayed!
It took but a short time for her to understand the doctor, and to
say that she disliked him would but feebly express the feeling of
aversion with which she regarded him. Not a word, however, would
Matty admit of past or present unkindness--neither was it necessary
that she should, for Janet saw it all--saw how "Old Maxim," as she
called him, had worried her life away, and while cherishing for him
a sentiment of hatred, she strove to comfort her young mistress, who
grew weaker and weaker every day, until at last the husband himself,
aroused to a sense of her danger, strove by little acts of kindness
unusual in him, to make amends for years of wrong. Experience is a
thorough teacher, and he shrank from the bitter memories which
spring from the grave of a neglected wife, and he would rather that
Matty, when she died, should not turn away from him, shuddering at
his touch, and asking him to take his hand from off her brow; just
as one brown-haired woman had done. This feeling of his was
appreciated by Janet, who in proportion as he became tender toward
Matty, was respectful to him, until at last there came to be a
tolerably good understanding between them, and she was suffered, in
most matters, to have her own way.
With John she was a special favorite, and through his
instrumentality open hostilities were prevented between herself and
his mother, until the latter missed another cup of jelly from its
new hiding-place. Then, indeed, the indignant African announced her
intention of going at once to "Miss Ruggles'," who had offered her
"twelve shillings a week and a heap of leisure."
"Let her go," said John, who knew Mrs. Ruggles to be a fashionable
woman, the mother of nine children, whose ages varied from one to
fifteen; "let her go--she'll be glad to come back," and the sequel
proved he was right, for just as it was beginning to grow light on
the second day of her absence, someone rapped at his window, and a
half-crying voice whispered, "Let me in, John; I've been out to
sarvice enough."
John complied with the request, and when Janet came down to the
kitchen, how was she surprised at finding Hannah there, leisurely
grinding her coffee, with an innocent look upon her sable face, as
if nothing had ever happened. John's raillery, however, loosened her
tongue at last, and very minutely she detailed her grievances. "She
had done a two weeks' washing, besides all the work, and the whole
of them young ones under her feet into the bargain. Then at night,
when she hoped for a little rest, Mrs. Ruggles had gone off to a
party and stayed till midnight, leaving her with that squallin'
brat; but never you mind," said she, "I poured a little paregol down
its throat, or my name aint Hannah," and with a sigh of relief at
her escape from "Miss Ruggles," she finished her story and resumed
her accustomed duties, which for many weeks she faithfully
performed, finding but little fault with the frequent suggestions of
Mrs. Janet Blodgett, whose rule in the household was for the time
being firmly established.