"COULD I be spared to take a month's holiday, mem? I've had word from
home that my mother has been ailing, and would fain see me. She and my
father are growing old, and it's seven years since I set foot in the
house where I was born."
It was Jean Graham who made this request, and Mrs. Crawford could only
consent. Jean had been most abstemious in the matter of holidays,
having only taken an occasional day since her last visit to Scotland
seven years before.
Her mistress gave a little sigh as she answered, "Of course, Jean, you
must go. It is not a very convenient time, but I am sure you are right
in wishing to visit your parents."
"Thank ye, mem; but if you thought of a better time, a week more or
less would not matter. My father does not write that my mother is
laid by altogether, only that she is getting into years, and feeling
infirmities creeping over her with increasing age. And it is natural
that parents and children should want to see each other's faces now and
then, though it may be many a year since the young birds left the old
nest."
What could Mrs. Crawford say to such words as these? Her heart echoed
the truth of them, and she replied, "You ought to go, Jean. I do not
know that any other time would be better than the present, though, of
course, I shall miss you dreadfully."
Jean's face was instantly overspread with a bright smile as she
answered, "Indeed, and I would not like to think that, after so many
years, I could go away and neither be missed nor wanted. But it's not
for so very long, and if anything very particular were to happen, ye
must just send for me, mistress, and I'll come back."
"Indeed you shall do no such thing, Jean. You must go, and take
whatever holiday you wish for. It would be a shame to cut short your
one visit in seven years."
Yet Mrs. Crawford sighed at the prospect of being without her faithful
handmaiden. She had never known by experience how much difference
Jean's absence would make, but there was no doubt it would mean
unwonted exertion, and much worry and vexation of spirit to herself.
Jean hoped that good would come of it.
"The mistress is sure to have her hands full, but she must learn
something that she did not know before when I'm not here. That fine
lady nurse will not be able to take Jean Graham's place, though it
would be like her impudence to meddle," thought she. "I'm sorry for
the doctor; I doubt he'll not get his meals as comfortable whilst I'm
away, for it isn't everybody can manage to have a bit always ready, so
that he may eat it when he happens in between-whiles, and has a few
spare minutes. There's nothing worse for those that have to go from
one sick-bed to another than to do it with empty stomachs. A doctor
is so tempted to just make another visit or two when patients' houses
lie convenient; then when dinner-time is just past they think they may
as well go on. It is strange how those that are always busy trying to
patch up the broken down bodies of other folk are so careless about
their own health. Doctors might be made o' different stuff, or fancy
that sickness is meant to be the end of everybody but themselves."
It was anxiety on "Master Andrew's" account which had already more
than once deferred Jean's application for leave of absence, and, as
above narrated, her mind was much exercised respecting him when she
had actually obtained it. For some time past, Dr. Crawford had been
culpably careless of his health, had worked too hard and fasted too
long. But for Jean's watchfulness, and the dainty "bits" which she
exerted all her culinary skill to keep in a presentable and appetizing
condition for him whenever he might arrive, the doctor would have fared
still worse.
Ida always gave her husband a glad welcome, and sometimes gentle
reproaches for his long absences, when at length he made his
appearance, weary and jaded-looking. If the dinner-hour were past, she
took it for granted he had dined elsewhere, until enlightened by Jean.
And then she only said, "You must take care the doctor has something
nice, Jean. Be sure you look after the doctor;" which injunction had
been faithfully obeyed hitherto.
"I've left everything straight and orderly, mem, and here are the
keys," said Jean, on the morning of her departure. "I hope Jessie will
manage the cooking to your mind, but being young, she's just a bit
thoughtless, and not to be trusted about the doctor's dinners. The
regular meals will be served right enough, but I have my fears for any
between-whiles cooking, so ye'll please not take it amiss if I say
to ye that it would be well ye should give an eye to this one matter
yourself."
"Never fear, Jean; the doctor shall not starve during your absence,"
said Mrs. Crawford.
"And, mem, I hope ye'll not be angry—it's for the good of the children,
bless them, and because I think ye should know—"
Mrs. Crawford's face grew hard as she listened to this preface, and she
promptly interrupted the speaker.
"I have said before, Jean, and I repeat it now, that I will not have
you interfere with nursery matters. I know there is a little jealousy
between you and Bennett, but it cannot be expected that she will allow
you to meddle in her department, any more than that you should like her
to give orders in the kitchen."
"She has tried to do it many a time, mem, and would like to guide the
whole house,—you and master and the children, to say nothing of the
other servants. But it's not of any meddling with me I would speak now."
"As to the children, Jean, I know how good you are, and that you would
help to spoil them by your very kindness. You must not blame Bennett if
she objects to your putting their stomachs out of order by giving them
too many nice things."
"Indeed, mem," said Jean earnestly, "I never gave them bit or sup that
was not good and wholesome for the youngest among them. I would rather
take what would harm myself than hurt a hair of their heads. Mistress,
believe me, the nurse knows this as well as I do, but she wants you
to credit her, and not me. You say sometimes how wonderful quiet the
children are kept, and how seldom they disturb anybody. They sleep too
well, and Bennett knows best what she gives them to keep them from
disturbing her rest."
Jean persisted in finishing her sentence, though Mrs. Crawford, with
flushed face and in an indignant tone, tried to stop her.
"I never thought your feeling of jealousy would induce you to try and
injure another servant's character, Jean," said the lady. "I know you
have never liked Bennett, I suppose because she is in a manner placed
above you."
"Dear mistress," cried Jean, her eyes filling with unwonted tears,
"if you do not believe me, ask Mr. Armstrong how often he has caught
Bennett in the surgery, helping herself to drugs that she had no lawful
business with. She could be only wanting them to make sleeping stuff
for those precious children. I could not bear to trouble the doctor,
for just now he is working himself to death. But I cannot go away
without warning you, mem, and I must speak out, whatever comes of it.
Take those keys into your own keeping, and, though it may cost you a
little trouble, do not let them out of your hands."
The keys indicated by Jean Graham were those of the wine cellar and the
beer barrel. She had time to say no more, for the housemaid came at
this moment to tell her that if she stayed another minute, the cabman
would not be answerable for catching the train.
Jean seized Mrs. Crawford's little white hand, and clasped it between
both hers, then kissed it, and with a "Ye'll forgive me, mistress,
and may God bless and keep ye, and the doctor, and the children!" she
hurried away.
The rattling wheels of the cab soon told that, Jean was gone, and,
though her mistress had felt inclined to be angry, she could not help a
sense of desolation as she realized how much must depend upon herself
for four long weeks to come.
"Poor Jean! She means well, but she almost hates Bennett. What a
ridiculous notion that was of hers about the laudanum! I wish I had
been able to tell her how it happened that Bennett went into the
surgery for it," said Ida to herself, as she mused on Jean Graham's
words of warning. "The explanation is so simple, though, perhaps,
with Jean's feeling of prejudice against Bennett, she would not have
believed it to be the true one."
The fact was that the nurse had entered the surgery during the
temporary absence of Mr. Armstrong, the assistant, and helped herself
to some laudanum. Twice he had surprised her doing this, and threatened
to speak to Dr. Crawford. But the woman boldly set him at defiance, and
said that her mistress knew why she wanted the laudanum, and that had
Mr. Armstrong been in the surgery she would have asked him for it.
As it was, there was no harm in her helping herself to such a small
quantity. She was not a child to make a mistake about a teaspoonful of
laudanum, or to use it improperly when she had got it.
Bennett's confident manner disarmed the assistant, and the nurse took
care that any complaint from Mr. Armstrong should fall harmless, so
far as she was concerned, if he carried out his threat of speaking to
the doctor. She went straight to Mrs. Crawford, carrying with her the
little bottle of laudanum, and said that she was going to prepare a
camomile fomentation for her face.
"I have been just wild with pain, and hardly had an hour's sleep at
once for the last two nights," she said. "I feel quite worn out, and if
I cannot get some rest I shall not be fit to look after the children. I
went to the surgery to ask for something, and, Mr. Armstrong being out,
I took the liberty of getting a small drop of laudanum to use with the
camomile. I once heard a doctor say that it was better to put a little
laudanum in than to boil poppy-heads, which were only like husks. Then
you would be able to measure the exact quantity, whereas it was all
guess-work with the poppy-heads."
Mrs. Crawford was full of sympathy with Bennett, and said she must lie
down at once, and she would come to the nursery herself.
"There will be no occasion for you to trouble, ma'am, thank you,"
said Bennett. "Ann is out with the children, all but baby, and she
is asleep. I shall not lie down now, but keep fomenting my face, and
if I get relief from the pain, I shall make up for loss of rest by a
good-night's sleep. Only, if Mr. Armstrong should say anything to you
about my taking the drop of laudanum, you will maybe explain how it
was, and that you are aware it was only needed for outside use."
To this Mrs. Crawford readily assented, and even went out of her way to
mention the matter to the assistant.
If she could have followed Bennett's movements, she might not have
felt so satisfied, for she would have seen the laudanum bottle hidden
away with its contents untouched, and found further that, though the
nurse made a show of preparing a fomentation, she did not trouble
herself to apply it. To her mistress's kind inquiries later in the
evening, Bennett replied that she was now quite free from pain, and
Ida, perfectly unsuspicious, rejoiced with her in having obtained such
prompt relief.
Though Mr. Armstrong did not mention the abstraction of the laudanum
to Dr. Crawford, he was far from satisfied, and it was a hint from him
which aroused Jean Graham's suspicions, and set her on the watch, with
what result has already been told.
Mrs. Crawford's easy-going method of delegating her domestic and
maternal duties to her servants was patent to all around her. And yet,
though she received a certain amount of censure, it was softly uttered,
and accompanied by a sort of tender pity for the girl-wife, and praise
of her many charming qualities.
"She married so young, and without any training to fit her for
household duties or family cares."
"And she is so pretty, and has such perfect taste and fascinating
manners, no one could help liking her," some other enthusiast would say.
And so the one voice of blame would be turned into a chorus of praise,
or of regrets that Dr. Crawford, poor man had married out of his own
sphere, and was paying the penalty of his mistake. Mrs. Crawford did
not repeat Jean Graham's warning words to her husband, but she could
not wholly dismiss them from her mind. Jean might be prejudiced against
Bennett, but no one could doubt her uprightness and devotion to those
she served.
"Dear old Jean!" thought Ida. "I am sure she thinks Andrew will be
famished, the children poisoned, and the whole place go to wreck and
ruin whilst she is away. There will be no harm in my keeping my eyes
open, if only to convince her that she is mistaken about Bennett. I
will look in at the nursery a little later than usual this evening, and
every night for the future."
As a rule, Ida did not superintend the washing and dressing of her
little people. There was the accomplished head nurse and her younger
assistant. What were these for, if not to take such work off the
mother's hands? But sometimes she spent a little while in the nursery
during the bathing process, dabbling her white hands in the water, and
throwing it over the round, chubby limbs of the children. Or she would
play little merry games with them, whilst the nursery rang with baby
laughter, and the scene brought back memories of the old days in India,
when she used to delight her brother's children in a similar manner.
She did no serious work amongst Lord Carnelly's youngsters, but she was
greatly beloved by them, and brightened many a dull hour by her girlish
presence. It was the same now in her own nursery at Steynes-Cote, only
that Bennett did not always seem over-pleased if her mistress stayed
too long, especially towards bed-time.
"Don't you think, ma'am, that playing with the children when I am
getting them ready for bed is very apt to wake them up?" she would say
in an injured tone, and then probably add, "But, of course, I shall
take care that you are not disturbed if they are restless in the night."
Naturally, such a speech made Mrs. Crawford feel quite guilty, and
would send her out of the nursery. Sometimes she would steal in still
later, and, with gentle footfall, creep to the bedsides of the little
sleepers, just to kiss the soft, round cheeks and delight herself in
the sight of their infant beauty. But such visits were manifestly
opposed to Bennett's notions of nursery discipline, and she would look
severe and remain silent, or sigh audibly, as if in anticipation of
wailing children and broken slumbers.
So the two domestic departments at Steynes-Cote had each a head, yet
neither was under the rule of its mistress. Jean Graham held sway
as housekeeper because Mrs. Crawford would have it so, and Bennett
governed the nursery, and Mrs. Crawford in addition. The wily nurse
took care to impress her nominal mistress with the idea of her own
importance and superior knowledge, and lost no opportunity of showing
up Mrs. Crawford's inexperience.
It is due to Mrs. Prattely to say that Bennett was not the nurse
recommended by her when little Doris was born. That first nurse
had been carefully chosen, and proved to be everything that was
satisfactory. But, unfortunately, her strength proved unequal to the
demands made upon it by the rapid increase of the family, and she was
compelled to resign her post. Against this first nurse Jean Graham was
strongly prejudiced to begin with; but in time she learned her value,
and the two worked well together.
Bennett was of Mrs. Crawford's own engaging, and had been taken
on the strength of written testimonials, and rather hastily, Ida
being terrified at the idea of having the children left on her own
inexperienced hands.
On the day before Jean Graham started for Scotland, Mrs. Prattely told
her husband of the intended journey.
"I wonder what they will do without Jean for a month," she said. "I
think I must look in at Steynes-Cote and see if I can do anything for
Ida."
"No, my dear," replied Mr. Prattely; "let that girl-wife feel her feet
and learn a lesson of self-reliance."
"She will think me very unkind, James," pleaded the lady.
"She shall have no excuse for so doing, my dear, for we will start
to-morrow for a little tour in North Wales," said Mr. Prattely. "We
have been talking of it for some time past, as Mrs. Crawford well
knows."
The suggestion was carried out with great promptitude, and Ida found
herself unable to refer to her old friend during Jean Graham's absence.
It gave her a rather desolate feeling, and produced one ill effect by
making her afraid of offending Bennett.
The nurse was extra important and touchy in temper at the time, and
Ida asked herself, "What would become of the children if nurse were to
leave in a huff?"
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