The Dust Flower Part 13

The places were reversed. It was Letty who came in as Mrs. Courage, while Steptoe, seated in the chair, lowered the paper to the degree which he thought dignified. Letty mumbled something like the words the hypothetical Mrs. Courage was presumed to use, while Steptoe slowly threw back his head for the purchase, bringing it forward in condescending grace. Language could not have given Mrs. Courage so effective a retort courteous.

Letty was enchanted. "Oh, Steptoe, let me have another try. I believe I could swing the cat."

Again the places were reversed. Steptoe having repeated the role of Mrs. Courage, Letty imitated him as best she could in getting the purchase for her bow and catching his air of high-bred condescension.

"Better," he approved, "if madam wouldn't lower 'er 'ead _quite_ so far back'ard. You see, madam, a lydy don't _know_ she's throwin' back 'er 'ead so as to get a grip on it. She does it unconscious like, because bein' of a 'aughty sperrit she 'olds it 'igh natural. If madam'll only stiffen 'er neck like, as if sperrit 'ad made 'er about two inches taller than she is----"

Having seized this idea, Letty tried again, with such success that Mrs. Courage was disposed of. Jane Cakebread followed next, with Nettie last of all. Unaware of his possession of histrionic ability, Steptoe gave to each character its outstanding traits, fluttering like Jane, and giggling like Nettie, not in zeal for a newly discovered interpretative art, but in order that Letty might be nowhere caught at a disadvantage. He was delighted with her quickness in imitation.

"Couldn't 'ave done that better myself," he declared after Nettie had been dismissed for the third or fourth time. "When it comes to the inclinin' of the 'ead I should sye as madam was about letter-perfect, as they sye on the styge. If Mr. Rash was to see it, 'e'd swear as 'is ma 'ad come back again."

A m.u.f.fled sound proceeded from the back part of the hallway, with some whispering and once or twice Nettie's stifled cackle of a laugh.

"'Ere they are," he warned her. "Madam must be firm and control 'erself. There's nothink for 'er to be afryde of. Just let 'er think of the lyte Queen Victoria, called to the throne when younger even than madam is----"

A shuffling developed into one lone step, heavy, stately, and funereal. Doing her best to emulate the historic example held up to her, Letty lengthened her neck and stiffened it. A haughty spirit seemed to rise in her by the mere process of the elongation. She was so nervous that the paper shook in her hand, but she knew that if the Celestial City was to be won, she could shrink from no tests which might lead her on to victory.

Steptoe had relapsed into the major-domo's office, announcing from the doorway, "Mrs. Courage to see madam, if madam will be pleased to receive 'er."

Madam indicated that she was so pleased, scrambling after the standard of the maiden sovereign of Windsor Castle giving audience to princes and amba.s.sadors.

Chapter VIII

"I'm 'ere."

Letty couldn't know, of course, that this announcement, made in a menacing female ba.s.s, was due to the fact that three swaying bodies had been endeavoring so to get round the deployed paper wings as to see what was hidden there, and had found their efforts vain. All she could recognize was the summons to the bar of social judgment. To the bar of social judgment she would have gone obediently, had it not been for that rebelliousness against being "looked down upon" which had lately mastered her. As it was, she lengthened her neck by another half inch, receiving from the exercise a new degree of self-strengthening.

"Mrs. Courage is 'ere, madam," Steptoe seconded, "and begs to sye as she's givin' notice to quit madam's service----"

The explosion came as if Mrs. Courage was strangling.

"When I wants words took out of my mouth by 'Enery Steptoe or anybody else I'll sye so. If them as I've come into this room to speak to don't feel theirselves aible to fyce me----"

"Madam'll excuse an old servant who's outlived 'er time," Steptoe intervened, "and not tyke no notice. They always abuses the kindness that's been showed 'em, and tykes liberties which----"

But not for nothing had Mrs. Courage been born to the grand manner.

"When 'Enery Steptoe talks of old servants out-livin' their time and tykin' liberties 'e speaks of what 'e knows all about from personal experience. 'E was an old man when I was a little thing not _so_ high."

The appeal was to the curiosity of the girl behind the screen. To judge of how high Mrs. Courage had not been at a time when Steptoe was already an old man she might be enticed from her fortifications. But the pause only offered Steptoe a new opportunity.

"And so, if madam can dispense with 'er services, which I understand madam can, Mrs. Courage will be a-leavin' of us this morning, with all our good wishes, I'm sure. Good-dye to you, Mary Ann, and G.o.d bless you after all the years you've been with us. Madam's givin' you your dismissal."

Obedient to her cue Letty lowered her guard just enough to incline her head with the grace Steptoe had already p.r.o.nounced "letter perfect."

The shock to Mrs. Courage can best be narrated in her own terms to Mrs. Walter Wildgoose later in the day.

"Airs! No one couldn't imagine it, Bessie, what 'adn't seen it for theirselves--what them baggages'll do--smokin'--and wearin' pearl necklaces--and 'avin' their own limousines--all that I've seen and 'ad got used to--but not the President's wife--not Mary Queen of England--could 'a myde you feel as if you was dirt hunder their feet like what this one--and 'er with one of them marked down sixty-nine cent blouses that 'adn't seen the wash since--and as for looks--why, she didn't 'ave a look to bless 'erself--and a-'oldin' of 'erself like what a empress might--and bowin' 'er 'ead, and goin' back to 'er pyper, as if I'd disturbed 'er at 'er readin'--and the dead and spitten image of 'Enery Steptoe 'imself she is--and you know 'ow many times we've all wondered as to why 'e didn't marry--and 'im with syvings put by--Jynie thinks as 'e's worth as much as--and you know what a 'and Jynie is for ferritin' out what's none of 'er business--why, if Jynie Cykebread could 'a myde 'erself Jynie Steptoe--but that's somethink wild 'orses wouldn't myke poor Jynie see--that no man wouldn't look at 'er the second time if it wasn't for to laugh--pitiful, I call it, at 'er aige--and me always givin' the old rip to know as it was no use 'is 'angin' round where I was--as if I'd marry agyne, and me a widda, as you might sye, from my crydle--and if I did, it wouldn't 'a been a wicked old varlet what I always suspected 'e was leadin' a double life--and now to see them two fyces together--why, I says, 'ere's the explanytion as plyne as plyne can make it...."

All of which might have been true in rhetoric, but not in fact. For what had really given Mrs. Courage the _coup de grace_ we must go back to the scene of the morning.

Ignoring both Letty's inclination of the head and Steptoe's benediction she had shown herself hurt where she was tenderest.

"Now that there's no one to ryse their voice agynst the disgryce brought on this family but me----"

"Speak right up, Jynie. Don't be afryde. Madam won't eat you. She knows that you've come to give notice----"

Mrs. Courage struggled on. "No one ain't goin' to bow me out of the 'ouse I've been cook-'ousekeeper in these twenty-seven year----"

"Sorry as madam'll be to lose you, Jynie, she won't stand in the wye of your gettin' a better plyce----"

Mrs. Courage's roar being that of the wounded lioness she was, the paper shook till it rattled in Letty's hand.

"I _will_ be listened to. I've a right to be 'eard. My 'eart's been as much in this 'ouse and family as 'Enery Steptoe's 'eart; and to see shyme and ruin come upon it----"

Steptoe's interruption was in a tone of pleased surprise.

"Why, you still 'ere, Mary Ann? We thought you'd tyken leave of us.

Madam didn't know you was speakin'. She won't detyne you, madam won't.

You and Jynie and Nettie'll all find cheques for your wyges pyde up to a month a 'ead, as I know Mr. Rashleigh'd want me to do...."

Shame and ruin! Letty couldn't follow the further unfoldings of Steptoe's diplomacy because of these two words. They summed up what she brought--what she had been married to bring--to a house of which even she could see the traditions were of honor. Vaguely aware of voices which she attributed to Jane and Nettie, her spirit was in revolt against the role for which her rashness of yesterday had let her in, and which Steptoe was forcing upon her.

Jane was still whimpering and sniffling:

"I'm sure I never dreamed that things would 'appen like what 'as 'appened--and us all one family, as you might sye--'opin' the best of everyone----"

"Jynie, stop," Mrs. Courage's voice had become low and firm, with emotion in its tone, making Letty catch her breath. "My 'eart's breakin', and I ain't a-goin' to let it break without mykin' them that's broken it know what they've done to me."

"Now, Mary Ann," Steptoe tried to say, peaceably, "madam's grytely pressed for time----"

"'Enery Steptoe, do you suppose that you're the only one in the world as 'as loved that boy? Ain't 'e my boy just as much as ever 'e was yours?"

"'E's boy to them as stands by 'im, Mrs. Courage--and stands by them that belongs to 'im. The first thing you do is to quit----"

"I'm not quittin'; I'm druv out. I'm druv out at a hour's notice from the 'ome I've slyved for all my best years, leavin' dishonor and wickedness in my plyce----"

Letty could endure no more. Das.h.i.+ng to the floor the paper behind which she crouched she sprang to her feet.

"Is that me?" she demanded.

The surprise of the attack caught Mrs. Courage off her guard. She could only open her mouth, and close it again, soundlessly and helplessly. Jane stared, her curiosity gratified at last. Nettie turned to whisper to Jane, "There; what did I tell you? The commonest thing!" Steptoe nodded his head quietly. In this little creature with her sudden flame, eyes all fire and cheeks of the wine-colored damask rose, he seemed to find a corroboration of his power of divining character.

It seemed long before Mrs. Courage had found the strength to live up to her convictions, by faintly murmuring: "Who else?"

"Then tell me what you accuse me of?"