THE ROSE-COLOURED BEDROOM AND THE NEW MAID.
The honeymoon was over; the four weeks all of pure gold had come slowly
but surely to an end. Nancy had forgotten much during this time. The look
of trouble, of anxiety, had absolutely left her face: it bloomed into
greater and greater beauty in the new atmosphere. Rowton, too, appeared
to be a different man. A great deal of his harshness and roughness had
left him. He could be polished when he chose. In the early days of his
life he had only associated with gentlemen; he was of good birth, and his
natural breeding quickly re-asserted itself.
“You are just like a tamed lion,” Nance was fond of saying to him. “You
are so gentle to me; so courteous and kind to everyone, but I know——”
“What do you know, sweet wife?” he said, clasping her round her slender
waist and looking into her deep, beautiful eyes; “you must not get to
know me too well, Nancy; be satisfied with the surface of me, and do not
penetrate too deep.”
“Ah!” she said smiling, “you will run yourself down; but I know the
deepest and the best of you. I leave the shallow part to strangers.”
“You were going to make a remark about the lion,” he said, patting her
soft hand; “so you really think I am a roaring lion, my darling?”
“You never roar to me,” she answered; “but that you can roar I am firmly
convinced.”
“Capital,” he said with a great laugh; “well, Nancy, I hope it will never
be your fate to hear one of my manifestations. Child, we go back to
England to-morrow; are you glad or sorry?”
“Glad,” she replied. “I was intensely happy on our honeymoon; oh! what
lovely places we have seen; how grand and magnificent the world is! It
has been sunshine inside and out ever since I gave myself to you.”
“And yet you want to leave it all and to go home,” he said.
“I do. I love you so much that to see you at home must be the best of
all; to live with you at home must be the sweetest of all.”
“You are mistaken,” he said, but he said it low, and the inaudible words
never reached his lips.
“Pack, child, now,” he said. “Our wearisome journey begins to-morrow.”
A day or two later, the Rowtons arrived at Rowton Heights in Yorkshire.
Nancy had never been in this part of the country, and her excitement and
delight reached the utmost bounds as they approached nearer and nearer to
their destination.
“You must tell me all about the place?” she said when they drove in
through the gates of the long winding avenue.
“Oh! what are all those people doing?” she exclaimed suddenly; “they have
torches and they are coming to meet us.”
“Some of the tenants on the estate, I presume,” said Rowton. “I expect
Maberly, my steward, has been getting up a little display. Never mind,
Nancy, it is in your honour.”
“In mine,” she said in astonishment; “how very sweet of them!”
“I never told you, darling,” said her husband, “that in your own house
amongst your servants and our tenantry, you will take the position of a
great lady.”
“I! a great lady!” she said; “I! poor little starved Nance of the Grange.”
“But starved no longer, and the Grange may well now be forgotten,” he
said. “I told you that I was rich, did I not?”
“Yes. Have you not proved it?” she said; “why, you are made of money; I
never heard of anyone throwing money away so lavishly.”
“Goodness, child! you know nothing of what really wealthy men can do.
Understand once for all, Nance, that I am rich, I am very rich. It is my
pleasure to give you everything that money can buy. I want to make your
life one long dream of happiness.”
“You are doing so,” she said; “but I think in one way you make a
mistake,” she added.
“How?” he asked, surprised at her tone.
“You think that I want such a lot of money, Adrian. In that sense you
do not really know me. I like pretty dresses, but not too many; I like
pretty jewels, but not too many again; I like the soft things of life,
but a little of them contents me.”
“Then I am not making you happy,” he said in alarm.
“Yes, yes,” she answered: “but not because of these things. You make me
happy because you love me, because you fill my heart with love, because
you give me your sweetest and your best in the way of love, and because I
give you all the love of my heart.”
“Sweetheart, you are adorable,” he said, catching her hand and squeezing
it. “You must accept the wealth and the responsibility it brings, even if
you do not care for it, Nance, for it is my lot, my portion in life, to
have more money than I know what to do with. Now, here we are. Come, let
me introduce you to my housekeeper, to the servants. Put on the airs of a
_grande dame_, pretty Nance.”
She was tall, and very slender. Her neck was somewhat long and her head
was set on it with perfect grace. Rowton watched her as she held that
small queenly head high; his heart glowed with admiration and love.
“She would fill any position,” he said to himself. “Could that
curmudgeon, her father, see her now, would he know her, my beautiful,
lovely darling? Ah! I cannot corrupt a heart like hers; she wants
a _little_ wealth, and a _few_ pretty dresses, and a _few_ jewels
forsooth, and—love, love, love for everything else. Will she always
remain like that? Heaven grant it.”
Meanwhile the steward, Maberly, had come up, and Mrs. Ferguson, the
housekeeper, had presented a bunch of keys to Nance. Instructed by her
husband she gave them back again to the good woman, telling her in a
sweet voice that she knew far better what to do with them than she did.
A long string of servants, all neatly attired, with white satin rosettes
pinned on to their dresses, gave deep curtsies as Nance and her husband
walked down the great hall through their midst.
“Take Mrs. Rowton to her bedroom at once,” said Rowton, addressing the
housekeeper; “see that she has everything she wants. Have you engaged a
good maid for her?”
“Yes, sir, a thoroughly experienced girl. She is from the village, but
was trained in London for a couple of years. I have her for a month on
trial. Come here, Hester, and let me introduce you to your new mistress.”
“I am glad to see you, Hester,” said Nancy in her cordial voice.
The girl, a small, dark-eyed lass, dropped a low curtsey; she had keen
eyes and they fell all over Mrs. Rowton’s beautiful travelling dress.
“Run upstairs at once, Hester,” said Mrs. Ferguson, the housekeeper; “see
that the trunks are taken up and begin to attend to your duties; go,
girl, don’t stare.”
Hester coloured crimson, fixed her eyes again with a look half of
admiration, half of something else, which Nance did not quite
understand, on her face, and turned to obey.
“I hope you’ll like her, ma’am,” said the housekeeper as she followed
more slowly with her mistress.
“Oh! yes, she seems a nice girl,” said Nance; “but I have not been
accustomed to a maid, and I do not really know what to do with one.”
Mrs. Ferguson looked puzzled. She knew nothing whatever with regard to
the bride whom Rowton was bringing home. Had he really by any possibility
married beneath him?
But one glance at Nancy’s lovely face dispelled this illusion. The sweet
face stole straight down to the old woman’s heart.
“If Hester does not quite please you, ma’am, you’ll be sure to tell me,”
she said; “but she seems a clever girl, and particularly good at doing
hair.”
“I have always arranged my own hair,” said Nance; “but I suppose if it
is necessary I must submit.” She sighed a little as she spoke. The next
moment her sigh was changed for an exclamation of delight.
“What a lovely bedroom!” she said. “Is this for me?”
“I am heartily glad you are pleased, ma’am,” said the housekeeper.
“Mr. Rowton gave instructions that this room was to be completely
re-furnished. He chose those rose-coloured silk curtains himself;
they came from London only two days ago. I hope you’ll like the whole
arrangement. I must say the room does look cheerful. This is your
dressing-room, and your boudoir is just beyond; these stairs lead to
Mr. Rowton’s dressing-room, and this is the door of the bathroom. This
complete suite is shut away by these curtains and door.”
“It is quite a little house to itself,” said Nance; “it certainly does
look perfect.”
“Well, I am pleased,” said the housekeeper. “I’ll leave you now, ma’am. I
see Hester is waiting to attend on you.”
Nance, who was standing in a dream of delight in the middle of the lovely
room, looked up at these words and encountered the dark gaze of her new
maid.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“The trunks are in your dressing-room, ma’am,” said the girl, “and I am
waiting for your keys, please.”
Nancy pulled them out of her pocket.
“Perhaps you will kindly tell me in which trunk your evening dresses are,
ma’am?”
“I really cannot say,” began Nancy; then she paused to consider for a
moment. “Oh! I know,” she said, “there is a very pretty evening dress
which I can wear to-night—grey silk—in the large basket trunk with the
arched roof.”
“I’ll have everything ready for you, ma’am, in less than a quarter of an
hour,” said the girl. She withdrew as she spoke, closing the door of the
bedroom behind her.
Nance went up to where a fire burned merrily in a grate, which was bright
with brass and ornamental with lovely tiles, and stood warming her feet.
The paper on the walls was of the faintest tone of rose; the mantelpiece
of the purest white marble; the overmantel and all the furniture were
ivory white mounted in brass; the window curtains and the bed hangings
were of the softest shade of rose silk; no more lovely room could be
imagined, and Nance, as she turned to survey her slender image in the
many mirrors which were inserted in the walls, could not sufficiently
give voice to her admiration. Her husband came in while she was examining
the room.
“Ah!” he said, “I see the London people have done exactly what I told
them. Well, Nance, what do you think of our bedroom?”
“Perfect,” she answered; “I never want to leave it.”
“Heaven forbid!” he cried; “that would mean that you were ill, which
would never do. I am glad you like this room, but wait until you see the
rest of the house.”
“I am almost too happy,” said the girl, and she breathed a sigh, the
depth of which nearly reached the point of pain.
“What, because you have got a pretty room, little one?” he replied.
He kissed her and went off to his dressing-room, whistling as he went.
Hester came to summon Nance, and in a few moments the young wife found
herself divested of her travelling things, her hair rearranged in the
most becoming style, and her evening dress put on. She scarcely knew
herself when she was arrayed for the evening, without having lifted a
finger on her own behalf.
“After all a maid is a comfort when one is dead tired,” she could not
help thinking. Her instinct was to pick up and put by her own things,
but Hester, who seemed to divine her intention, swept them out of sight
with an almost peremptory gesture.
“You may be sure I’ll do my best to try and please you, ma’am,” she said
in a soft voice.
Nance murmured her thanks and went downstairs.
“She is a chit of a thing,” muttered the girl when her mistress had
turned her back. “I can twist her round my little finger, particularly
when I make use of some very private information, which will considerably
alter the complexion of things for pretty Mrs. Rowton, or I am greatly
mistaken.”