The Dust Flower Part 12

Allerton went to work and died."

Letty's eyes shone with their tiny fires, not in pleasure but in wonder.

"When old servants is good, they're good, but even when they're good, there's times when you can't 'elp wis.h.i.+n' as 'ow the Lord 'ud be pleased to tyke them to 'Imself."

He allowed this to sink in before going further.

"The men's all right, for the most part. Indoor work comes natural to 'em, and they'll swing it without no complynts. But with the women it's kick, kick, kick, and when they're worn theirselves out with kickin', they'll begin to kick again. What's plye for a man, for them ain't nothink but slyvery."

Letty listened as one receiving revelations from another world.

"I ain't what they call a woman-'ater. _I_ believe as G.o.d made woman for a purpose. Only I can't bring myself to think as the human race 'as rightly found out yet what that purpose is. G.o.d's wyes is always dark, and when it comes to women, they're darker nor they are elsewheres. One thing I do know, and we'll be a lot more comfortable when more of us finds it out--that G.o.d never made women for the 'ome."

In spite of her awe of him, Letty found this doctrine difficult to accept.

"If G.o.d didn't make 'em for the home, mister, where on earth would you put 'em?"

The wintry color came out again on the old man's cheeks. "If madam would call me Steptoe," he said ceremoniously, "I think she'd find it easier. I mean," he went on, reverting to the original theme, "that 'E didn't make 'em to be cooks and 'ousemaids and parlormaids, and all that. That's men's work. Men'll do it as easy as a bird'll sing. I never see the woman yet as didn't fret 'erself over it, like a wild animal'll fret itself in a circus cage. It spiles women to put 'em to 'ousework, like it always spiles people to put 'em to jobs for which the Lord didn't give 'em no hapt.i.tude."

Letty was puzzled, but followed partially.

"I've watched 'em and watched 'em, and it's always the syme tyle.

They'll go into service young and joyous like, but it won't be two or three years before they'll have growed cat-nasty like this 'ere Jyne Cykebread and Mary Ann Courage. Madam 'ud never believe what sweet young things they was when I first picked 'em out--Mrs. Courage a young widow, and Jynie as nice a girl as madam 'ud wish to see, only with the features what Mrs. Allerton used to call a little hover-haccentuated. And now--!" He allowed the conditions to speak for themselves without criticizing further.

"It's keepin' 'em in a 'ome what's done it. They knows it theirselves--and yet they don't. Inside they've got the sperrits of young colts that wants to kick up their 'eels in the pasture. They don't mean no worse nor that, only when people comes to Jynie's age and Mrs. Courage's they 'ave to kick up their 'eels in their own wye.

If madam'll remember that, and be pytient with them like------"

Letty cried in alarm, "But it's got nothin' to do with me!"

"If madam'll excuse me, it's got everything to do with 'er. She's the missus of this 'ouse."

"Oh, no, I ain't. Mr. Allerton just brung me here----"

Once more there was the delicate emphasis with which he had corrected other slips. "Mr. Allerton _brought_ madam, and told me to see that she was put in 'er proper plyce. If madam'll let me steer the thing, I'll myke it as easy for 'er as easy."

He reflected as to how to make the situation clear to her. "I've been readin' about the time when our lyte Queen Victoria come to the throne as quite a young girl. She didn't know nothin' about politics or presidin' at councils or nothin'. But she had a prime minister--a kind of hupper servant, you might sye--'er servant was what 'e always called 'imself--and whatever 'e told 'er to do, she done. Walked through it all, you might sye, till she got the 'ang of it, but once she did get the 'ang of it--well, there wasn't no big-bug in the world that our most grycious sovereign lydy couldn't put it all hover on."

Once more he allowed her time to a.s.similate this parable.

"Now if madam would only think of 'erself as called in youth to reign hover this 'ouse----"

"Oh, but I couldn't!"

"And yet it's madam's duty, now that she's married to its 'ead----"

"Yes, but he didn't marry me like that. He married me--all queer like.

This was the way."

She poured out the story, while Steptoe listened quietly. There being no elements in it of the kind he called "shydy," he found it romantic.

No one had ever suspected the longings for romance which had filled his heart and imagination when he was a poor little scullion boy; but the memory of them, with some of the reality, was still fresh in his hidden inner self. Now it seemed as if remotely and vicariously romance might be coming to him after all, through the boy he adored.

On her tale his only comment was to say: "I've been readin'--I'm a great reader," he threw in parenthetically, "wonderful exercise for the mind, and learns you things which you wouldn't be likely to 'ear tell of--but I've been readin' about a king--I'll show you 'is nyme in the book--what fell in love with a beggar myde----"

"Oh, but Mr. Allerton didn't fall in love with me."

"That remynes to be seen."

She lifted her hands in awed amazement. "Mister--I mean, Steptoe--you--you don't think----?"

The subway dream of love at first sight was as tenacious in her soul as the craving for romance in his.

He nodded. "I've known strynger things to 'appen."

"But--but--he couldn't--" it was beyond her power of expression, though Steptoe knew what she meant--"not _him_!"

He answered judicially. "'E may come to it. It'll be a tough job to bring 'im--but if madam'll be guided by me------"

Letty collapsed. Her spirit grew faint as the spirit of Christian when he descried far off the walls of the Celestial City, with the Dark River rolling between him and it. Letty knew the Dark River must be there, but if beyond it there lay the slightest chance of the Celestial City....

She came back to herself, as it were, on hearing Steptoe say that the procession from the kitchen would presently begin to form itself.

"Now if madam'll be guided by me she'll meet this situytion fyce to fyce."

"Oh, but I'd never know what to say."

"Madam won't need to say nothink. She won't 'ave to speak. 'Ere they'll troop in--" a gesture described Mrs. Courage leading the advance through the doorway--"and 'ere they'll stand. Madam'll sit just where she's sittin'--a little further back from the tyble--lookin' over the mornin' pyper like--" he placed the paper in her hand--"and as heach gives notice, madam'll just bow 'er 'ead.

See?"

Madam saw, but not exactly.

"Now if she'll just move 'er chair----"

The chair was moved in such a way as to make it seem that the occupant, having finished her breakfast, was giving herself a little more s.p.a.ce.

"And if madam would remove 'er 'at and jacket, she'd--she'd seem more like the lydy of the 'ouse at 'ome."

Letty took off these articles of apparel, which Steptoe whisked out of sight.

"Now I'll be Mrs. Courage comin' to sye, 'Madam, I wish to give notice.' Madam'll lower the pyper just enough to show 'er inclinin' of 'er 'ead, a.s.sentin' to Mrs. Courage leavin' 'er. Mrs. Courage will be all for 'avin' words--she's a great 'and for words, Mrs. Courage is--but if madam won't sye nothin' at all, the wind'll be out o' Mrs.

Courage's syles like. Now, will madam be so good----?"

Having pa.s.sed out into the hall, he entered with Mrs. Courage's majestic gait, pausing some three feet from the table to say:

"Madam, things bein' as they are, and me not wis.h.i.+n' to stye no longer in the 'ouse where I've served so many years, I beg to give notice that I'm a givin' of notice and mean to quit right off."

Letty lowered the paper from before her eyes, jerking her head briskly.

"Ye-es," Steptoe commended doubtfully, "a lettle too--well, too habrupt, as you might sye. Most lydies--real 'igh lydies, like the lyte Mrs. Allerton--inclines their 'ead slow and gryceful like. First, they throws it back a bit, so as to get a purchase on it, and then they brings it forward calm like, lowerin' it stytely--Perhaps if madam'ud be me for a bit--that 'ud be Mrs. Courage--and let me sit there and be 'er, I could show 'er----"