On the morrow between twelve and one o'clock, Nesta, who had no best
clothes to put on, but who had to make the best of what she stood up in,
as Mrs Hogg expressed it, started on her mission of inquiry to Mrs
Johnston's. Mrs Johnston lived in the high street. It was not much of
a street, for Souchester was quite a tiny place; but still there were a
few houses, and three or four shops, and amongst those houses was one
with a hall door painted yellow, and pillars painted green. In that
house lived Mrs Johnston. Nesta's whole horizon, every scrap of her
future, seemed now to be centred in Mrs Johnston. She had lain awake a
good part of the night thinking about her, and making her plans. If
Mrs Johnston would pay her--say ten shillings a week, she could easily
manage to live quite well. She would still board with the Hoggs and
take her food with them. She would soon get accustomed to the red
herrings and to the half of Mrs Hogg's bed. She would soon get
accustomed to the boys, who could only articulate, as far as she was
concerned, the words "Hooray" and "Hurroa." In fact she would get
accustomed to anything, and she would stay there until her family, tired
out with looking for her, would cease to trouble their heads. By-and-by
perhaps they would be sorry, and they would hold out the olive branch,
and she would go home, but that time was a long way off.
Meanwhile all her future would depend on Mrs Johnston. She reached the
house and rang the bell.
The house was not pretty, but it seemed to be immaculately neat. A girl
as neat as the house itself presently opened the door. When she saw
Nesta, she said:
"My missus can't see anybody to-day," and was about to slam the door in
Nesta's face, when that young lady adroitly slipped her foot in.
"I must see her. It is most important. It has something to do with the
St Justs," said Nesta.
She was desperate and had to make up an excuse to secure her interview
at any cost. The servant girl was impressed by the word St Just, and
telling Nesta she might stay in the hall and she would inquire, she went
away to find her mistress.
Mrs Johnston's celebrated rheumatism was at its worst that day. She
was consequently more cranky than usual, and less inclined to be civil
to any who wanted her.
"A girl, did you say, Mercy? Speak out, my lass. What sort of a girl?"
"A kind of lady girl, ma'am."
"A stranger?"
"Yes; I never seen her before."
"Did she say what she wanted?"
"I think the people from the Castle sent her, ma'am. She said it was to
do with the St Justs."
"Why, then, for goodness' sake show her in. I am expecting Miss Angela,
and perhaps she will call some time to-day. We must have the place in
apple-pie order. I hope to goodness that girl hasn't come to say that
Miss Angela can't come. I've been counting on her visit more than
anything."
"In course, you have, ma'am, and no wonder. She's a beautiful young
lady."
"Well, show the other young lady in, Mercy," said Mrs Johnston; "but
tell her that I'm bad with the rheumatics and I can't entertain her
long. If I ring the bell twice, Mercy, you will bring up the
gingerbread and milk; but if I ring it three times, it will be for the
gingerbread and cowslip wine, and if I don't ring it at all, why, you
are to bring up nothing. It all depends on what the young lady wants."
How poor Nesta would have enjoyed the gingerbread and milk, let alone
the gingerbread and cowslip wine which she was never to taste, for her
diet at the Hoggs' was the reverse of appetising. Try as she would she
could scarcely manage it; hunger would, of course, bring her to it in
time. But although she was nearly starving for her ordinary food, she
was not hungry enough yet for the food which the Hoggs consumed. Mercy
came back to her.
"You may come in, Miss," she said. "It is entirely because you are a
young lady from the Castle; but my missis wishes to tell you that her
rheumatics are awful bad to-day. You'll be as gentle as you can with
her, Miss."
Nesta nodded, and entered the room, the door of which Mercy held open
for her.
Now, Nesta could never be remarked for her graceful or gentle movements,
and she managed, in coming into the room, to excite Mrs Johnston's
quickly aroused ire, by knocking violently against a little table which
held a tray full of some pretty silver ornaments. One of them was
knocked down, and the whole arrangement was destroyed.
"Clumsy girl!" muttered Mrs Johnston under her breath. She looked up
with a frown on her face as Nesta approached.
Mercy stooped to rearrange the silver ornaments.
"Go away, Mercy, for goodness' sake!" snapped the old lady. "Shut the
door, and remember about the bell. If I don't ring, bring nothing
whatever, Mercy. You understand?"
"Yes, ma'am," said Mercy.
Nesta went and stood in front of Mrs Johnston.
"Take a seat, my dear," said the good lady, for she recalled that even a
clumsy visitor from the Castle was worth propitiating. "So you have
come from Miss Angela St Just. I do trust and hope that the sweet
young lady isn't going to disappoint me?"
"But I haven't," said Nesta, "and she didn't send you a message."
"But you are staying there?"
"No; I'm not."
"Then what message have you from the St Justs, may I ask?"
Mrs Johnston held herself very upright. Even her rheumatism gave way
to her anger.
"What has brought you here, may I ask, young girl?"
"I came," said Nesta, "because Mrs Hogg sent me."
"Mrs Hogg? Hogg? You don't mean Mary Hogg, the laundress?"
"I don't know whether she's a laundress or whether she's not, but I am
lodging there."
Mrs Johnston sat still more upright. "I am lodging there for the
present I know the St Justs, but I am lodging there, and I want
something to do in this place, and I thought perhaps you'd let me--oh,
please don't get so red in the face! Please don't! Please hear me out.
I thought perhaps you'd let me come and read to you, the same as the
girl who went to America. Mrs Hogg said you wanted some one."
"Mary Hogg shall never have one scrap of my washing again. What does
she mean by sending me a total stranger? I shall request Mary Hogg to
mind her own business."
"Please, it isn't her fault. I wanted a blind one, but when there
wasn't one, I thought, perhaps, you'd do."
"What?" said Mrs Johnston.
"Some one who is blind; but you aren't blind."
"Thank Heavens, no! I can see quite well, and I don't much admire your
face, Miss."
"But I could read to you. I can read, oh, so well. I have an invalid
mother, and I've read to her, oh, stories upon stories out of the penny
papers. I can read ever so quickly. I wish you'd try me. What I want
is ten shillings a week, and, and--oh, not my food. I could have my
food at Mrs Hogg's. It is awfully plain--pease pudding and herrings
mostly; but I don't mind that if only you'd pay me ten shillings a week
and let me come to you every day."
"You are the most audacious girl! I really never heard of anything
quite so extraordinary in the whole course of my life. And, pray, may I
ask why you said you had come from the St Justs?"
"I know them, you see, and I thought your maid wouldn't let me in, so I
made up an excuse."
"Then you are a liar as well. Now, let me give you my answer. I don't
know you or anything about you. I don't like your appearance. I don't
intend to employ you as my reader. You are exceedingly awkward and your
dress is untidy. If you are a lady you scarcely look like one, and
ladies don't go to lodge with women like Mary Hogg."
"If they are very poor they do," said Nesta. "I have got very little
money."
"What is your name?"
"Oh, please, don't ask me. I would rather not say."
"Indeed! You'd rather not say. And do you suppose that I'd take a girl
into my employment--a girl who cannot give me her name?"
"I'd rather not. What is the use? You are very cruel. I wish there
had been a blind one about; she wouldn't be so cruel."
"Will you please go. Just go straight out by that door. Don't knock
yourself against my silver again. The hall is very short, and the front
door within a few feet away. Open it; get to the other side; shut it
firmly after you and depart. Don't let me see you again."
Nesta did depart. She felt as though some one had beaten her. She had
never, perhaps, in all her pampered existence, received so many blows in
such a short time as that terrible old Mrs Johnston had managed to
inflict. At first, she was too angry to feel all the misery that such
treatment could cause; but when she entered the Hogg establishment and
found in very truth from the moist atmosphere of the place, from the
absence of any preparations for a meal, and from the worried expression
on Mrs Hogg's face, that she was indeed a laundress, she burst into
tears.
"Highty tighty!" said Mrs Hogg. "I can't have any more of this. Out
you go. Did you see her?"
"Oh, don't ask me. She's a perfect terror!"
"_She_ has a sharp bark, but what I say is that her bark's worse nor her
bite. She pays regular. Now, why couldn't you bring yourself to mind
her and to soothe her down a bit? Maybe she'd do well by you."
"_She_ wouldn't have me on any terms. She turned me right out. She
didn't like me at all."
"I'm not surprised at that. I don't much like von, either. But there's
your dinner in the corner there. I wropt it up in a bit o' paper.
You'd best take it out and eat it in the fields. It'll be all mess and
moither and soapsuds and steaming water here for the rest of the day."
"And when may I come back again?"
"I don't want you back at all."
"But I suppose you won't turn me out?"
"No, you may share my bed. You behaved better last night. Come back
when you can't bear yourself any longer, and if you can buy yourself a
draught of milk and a hunch of bread for supper it would give less
trouble getting anything ready. The boys'll have cold porridge
to-night, without any milk, and that's all I can give you. I can never
be bothered with cooking on a washing day."
Nesta took up her dinner, which was wrapped up in a piece of old
newspaper, and disappeared. She walked far, far until she was tired.
Then she sat down and opened the little parcel. Within was the rind of
a very hard cheese and a lump of very stale bread. But Nesta's hunger
was now so strong that she ate up the bread and devoured the cheese and
felt better afterwards.