Janet's Love and Service Part 54

"But, after all, Nelly does very well. She is stupid sometimes and cross, but they are all that, more or less, I suppose," said f.a.n.n.y.

"You are quite right, f.a.n.n.y," said Arthur, who saw that his wife was annoyed without very well knowing why. "I daresay Nelly is a better servant--notwithstanding the unfortunate chickens of to-day, which was our own fault, you know--than the decayed gentlewoman. She will be a second Janet, yet--an inst.i.tution, an established fact in the history of the family. We couldn't do without Nelly. Eh, Graeme?"

Graeme smiled, and said nothing. Rose answered for her.

"No, indeed I am so glad Nelly will see Mrs Snow."

"Very well," said Mrs Grove. "Since Miss Elliott seems to be satisfied with Nelly, I suppose she must stay. It is a pity you had not known sooner, f.a.n.n.y, so as to save me the trouble of making an appointment for her. But she may as well come, and you can see her at any rate."

Her carriage being at the door, she went away, and a rather awkward silence followed her departure.

"What is it all about! Who is Mrs Tilman?" asked Arthur.

"Some one Mrs Grove has seen," said Graeme, evasively.

"But what about Nelly? Surely you are not thinking of changing servants, Graeme?"

"Oh! I hope not; but Nelly has been out of sorts lately--grumbled a little--"

"Out of sorts, grumbled!" exclaimed f.a.n.n.y, vexed that Mrs Grove had introduced the subject, and more vexed still that Arthur should have addressed his question to Graeme. "She has been very disagreeable, indeed, not to say impertinent, and I shall not bear it any longer."

Poor little f.a.n.n.y could hardly keep back her tears.

"Impertinent to you, f.a.n.n.y," cried Graeme and Arthur in a breath.

"Well, to mamma--and she is not very respectful to me, sometimes, and mamma says Nelly has been long enough here. Servants always take liberties after a time; and, besides, she looks upon Graeme as mistress rather than me. She quite treats me like a child," continued f.a.n.n.y, her indignation increasing as she proceeded.

"And, besides," she added, after there had been a moment's uncomfortable silence, "Nelly wishes to go."

"Is Barkis willing at last?" said Arthur, trying to laugh off the discomfort of the moment.

Rose laughed too. It had afforded them all much amus.e.m.e.nt to watch the slow courts.h.i.+p of the dignified Mr Stirling. Nelly always denied that there was anything more in the gardener's attentions, than just the good-will and friendliness of a countryman, and he certainly was a long time in coming to the point they all acknowledged.

"Nonsense, Arthur! That has nothing to do with it," said f.a.n.n.y.

"Then, she must be going to her sister--the lady with a fabulous number of cows and children. She has spoken about that every summer, more or less. Her conscience p.r.i.c.ks her, every new baby she hears of. But she will get over it. It is all nonsense about her leaving."

"But it is not nonsense," said f.a.n.n.y, sharply. "Of course Graeme will not like her to go, but Nelly is very obstinate and disagreeable, and mamma says I shall never be mistress in my own house while she stays.

And I think we ought to take a good servant when we have the chance."

"But how good a servant is she?" asked Arthur.

"Didn't you hear what mamma said about her? And, of course, she has references and written characters, and all that sort of thing."

"Well, I think we may as well 'sleep upon it,' as Janet used to say.

There will be time enough to decide after to-night," said Arthur, taking up his newspaper, more annoyed than he was willing to confess.

The rest sat silent. Rose was indignant, and it needed a warning glance, from Graeme to keep her indignation from overflowing. Graeme was indignant, but not surprised. Indeed, Nelly had given warning that she was to leave; but she hoped and believed that she would think better of it, and said nothing.

She was not indignant with f.a.n.n.y, but with her mother. She felt that there was some truth in f.a.n.n.y's declaration, that Nelly looked upon her as a child. She had Nelly's own word for that. She considered her young mistress a child to be humoured and "no' heeded" when any serious business was going on. But f.a.n.n.y would not have found this out if left to herself, at least she would not have resented it.

The easiest and most natural thing for Graeme, in the turn affairs had taken, would be to withdraw from all interference, and let things take their course; but just because this would be easiest and most agreeable, she hesitated. She felt that it would not be right to stand aside and let f.a.n.n.y punish herself and all the rest because of the meddlesome folly of Mrs Grove. Besides, it would be so ungrateful to Nelly, who had served them so faithfully all those years. And yet, as she looked at f.a.n.n.y's pouting lips and frowning brow, her doubts as to the propriety of interference grew stronger, and she could only say to herself, with a sigh,--

"We must have patience and wait."

And the matter was settled without her interference, though not to her satisfaction. Before a week, Nelly was on her way to the country to make acquaintance of her sister's cows and children, and the estimable Mrs Tilman was installed in her place. It was an uncomfortable time for all. Rose was indignant, and took no pains to hide it. Graeme was annoyed and sorry, and, all the more, as Nelly did not see fit to confine the stiffness and coldness of her leave-takings to Mrs Elliott as she ought to have done. If half as earnestly and frankly as she expressed her sorrow for her departure, Graeme had expressed her vexation at its cause, Nelly would have been content. But Graeme would not compromise f.a.n.n.y, and she would not condescend to recognise the meddlesomeness of Mrs Grove in their affairs. And yet she could not bear that Nelly should go away, after five years of loving service, with such angry gloom in her kind eyes.

"Will you stay with your sister, Nelly, do you think? or will you come back to town and take another place? There are many of our friends who would be very glad to get you."

"I'm no' sure, Miss Elliott. I have grown so fractious and contrary lately that maybe my sister winna care to have me. And as to another place--"

Nelly stopped suddenly. If she had said her say, it would have been that she could bear the thought of no other place. But she said nothing, and went away--ran away, indeed. For when she saw the sorrowful tears in Graeme's eyes, and felt the warm pressure of her hand, she felt she must run or break out into tears; and so she ran, never stopping to answer when Graeme said:

"You'll let us hear from you, Nelly. You'll surely let us hear from you soon?"

There was very little said about the new order of affairs. The remonstrance which f.a.n.n.y expected from Graeme never came. Mrs Grove continued to discuss domestic affairs, and to leave Graeme out, and she was quite willing to be left out, and, after a little, things moved on smoothly. Mrs Tilman was a very respectable-looking person. A little stout, a little red in the face, perhaps. Indeed, very stout and very red in the face; so stout that Arthur suggested the propriety of having the kitchen staircase widened for her benefit; and so red in the face as to induce Graeme to keep her eyes on the keys of the sideboard when f.a.n.n.y, as she was rather apt to do, left them lying about. She was a very good servant, if one might judge after a week's trial; and f.a.n.n.y might have triumphed openly if it had not been that she felt a little uncomfortable in finding herself, without a struggle, sole ruler in their domestic world. Mrs Tilman marketed, and purchased the groceries, and that in so dignified a manner that f.a.n.n.y almost wondered whether the looking over the grocer's book and the butcher's book might not be considered an impertinent interference on her part. Her remarks and allusions were of so dignified a character as to impress her young mistress wonderfully. She was almost ashamed of their limited establishment, in view of Mrs Tilman's magnificent experiences. But the dignified cook, or housekeeper, as she preferred being called, had profited by the afflictive dispensations that seemed to have fallen upon her, and resigned herself to the occupancy of her present humble sphere in a most exemplary manner.

To be sure, her marketing and her shopping, interfered a little with her less conspicuous duties, and a good deal more than her legitimate share of work was left to Sarah. But fortunately for her and the household generally, Graeme was as ready as ever to do the odds-and-ends of other people's duties, and to remember things forgotten, so that the domestic machinery moved on with wonderful smoothness. Not that Nelly's departure was no longer regretted; but in her heart Graeme believed that they would soon have her in her place again, and she was determined that, in the meantime, all should be pleasant and peaceful in their family life.

For Graeme had set her heart on two things. First, that there should be no drawback to the pleasure of Mrs Snow's visit; and second, that Mrs Snow should admire and love Arthur's wife. She had had serious doubts enough herself as to the wisdom of her brother's choice, but she tried to think herself quite contented with it now. At any rate, she could not bear to think that Janet should not be quite content. Not that she was very much afraid. For Graeme's feelings toward f.a.n.n.y had changed very much since she had been one of them. She was not very wise or sensible, but she was very sweet-tempered and affectionate, and Graeme had come to love her dearly, especially since the very severe illness from which f.a.n.n.y was not long recovered. Her faults, at least many of them, were those of education, which she would outlive, Graeme hoped, and any little disagreeable display which it had been their misfortune to witness during the year could, directly or indirectly, be traced to the influence or meddlesomeness of her stepmother, and so it could easily be overlooked. This influence would grow weaker in time, and f.a.n.n.y would improve in consequence. The vanity, and the carelessness of the feelings of others, which were, to Graeme, her worst faults, were faults that would pa.s.s away with time and experience, she hoped.

Indeed, they were not half so apparent as they used to be, and whether the change was in f.a.n.n.y or herself she did not stop to inquire.

But she was determined that her new sister should appear to the best advantage in the eyes of their dear old friend, and to this end the domestic sky must be kept clear of clouds. So Mrs Tilman's administration commenced under the most favourable circ.u.mstances, and the surprise which all felt at the quietness with which this great domestic revolution had been brought about was beginning to give place, on f.a.n.n.y's part, to a little triumphant self-congratulation which Rose was inclined to resent. Graeme did not resent it, and Rose was ready to forgive f.a.n.n.y's triumph, since f.a.n.n.y was so ready to share her delight at the thought of Mrs Snow's visit. As for Will, he saw nothing in the whole circle of events to disturb anybody's equanimity or to regret, except, perhaps, that the attraction of the McIntyre children and cows had proved irresistible to Nelly at last. And Arthur congratulated himself on the good sense and good management of his little wife, firmly believing in the wisdom of the deluded little creature, never doubting that her skill and will were equal to the triumphant encounter with any possible domestic emergency.

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.

They came at last. Arthur and Will met them on the other side of the river, and Graeme and Rose would fain have done the same, but because of falling rain, and because of other reasons, it was thought not best for them to go.

It was a very quiet meeting--a little restrained and tearful just at first; but that wore away, and Janet's eyes rested on the bairns from whom she had been so long separated with love and wonder and earnest scrutiny. They had all changed, she said. Arthur was like his father; Will was like both father and mother. As for Rosie--

"Miss Graeme, my dear," said Mrs Snow, "I think Rosie is nearly as bonny as her sister Marian," and her eye rested on the girl's blus.h.i.+ng face with a tender admiration that was quite as much for the dead as for the living. Graeme had changed least of all, she said; and yet in a little she found herself wondering whether, after all, Graeme had not changed more than any of them.

As for f.a.n.n.y she found herself in danger of being overlooked in the general joy and excitement, and went about jingling her keys, and rather ostentatiously hastening the preparations for the refreshment of the travellers. She need not have been afraid. Her time was coming. Even now she encountered an odd glance or two from Mr Snow, who was walking off his excitement in the hall. That there was admiration mingled with the curiosity they expressed was evident, and f.a.n.n.y relented. What might soon have become a pout on her pretty lip changed to a smile.

They were soon on very friendly terms with each other, and before Janet had got through with her first tremulous recognition of her bairns, Mr Snow fancied he had made a just estimate of the qualities--good--and not so good--of the pretty little housekeeper.

After dinner all were more at their ease. Mr Snow walked up and down the gallery, past the open window, and Arthur sat there beside him.

They were not so far withdrawn from the rest but that they could join in the conversation that went on within. f.a.n.n.y, tired of the dignity of housekeeping, brought a footstool and sat down beside Graeme; and Janet, seeing how naturally and lovingly the hand of the elder sister rested on the pretty bowed head, gave the little lady more of her attention than she had hitherto done, and grew rather silent in the scrutiny. Graeme grew silent too. Indeed she had been rather silent all the afternoon; partly because it pleased her best to listen, and partly because she was not always sure of her voice when she tried to speak.

She was not allowed to be silent long, however, or to fall into recollections too tender to be shared by them all. Rose's extraordinary restlessness prevented that. She seemed to have lost the power of sitting still, and flitted about from one to another; now exchanging a word with f.a.n.n.y or Will, now joining in the conversation that was going on between Mr Snow and Arthur outside. At one moment she was hanging over Graeme's chair, at the next, kneeling at Mrs Snow's side; and all the time with a face so radiant that even Will noticed it, and begged to be told the secret of her delight.

The truth was, Rose was having a little private jubilation of her own.

She would not have confessed it to Graeme, she was shy of confessing it to herself, but as the time of Mrs Snow's visit approached, she had not been quite free from misgivings. She had a very distinct recollection of their friend, and loved her dearly. But she found it quite impossible to recall the short active figure, the rather scant dress, the never-tiring hands, without a fear that the visit might be a little disappointing--not to themselves. Janet would always be Janet to them-- the dear friend of their childhood, with more real worth in her little finger than there was in ten such fine ladies as Mrs Grove. But Rose, grew indignant beforehand, as she imagined the supercilious smiles and forced politeness of that lady, and perhaps of f.a.n.n.y too, when all this worth should appear in the form of a little, plain old woman, with no claim to consideration on account of externals.

But that was all past now. And seeing her sitting there in her full brown travelling-dress, her snowy neckerchief and pretty quaint cap, looking as if her life might have been pa.s.sed with folded hands in a velvet arm-chair, Rose's misgivings gave place to triumphant self-congratulation, which was rather uncomfortable, because it could not well be shared. She had a.s.sisted at the arrangement of the contents of the travelling trunk in wardrobe and bureau, and this might have helped her a little.

"A soft black silk, and a grey poplin, and such lovely neckerchiefs and handkerchiefs of lawn--is not little Emily a darling to make her mother look so nice? And such a beauty of a shawl!--that's the one Sandy brought."