Thereby Hangs a Tale. Volume One

“Did that other gentleman take any?”

“Yes, aunt – a lot.”

“As if he couldn’t come home without bringing such a pack with him. Now come into my room, and I’ll talk to you, madam. Lloyd, take that waiter.”

She led the way into the housekeeper’s room, as her husband obediently bore off the flagon to his pantry; and then, shutting the door, she took her seat in a stiff, horse-hair-covered chair, looking as hard and prim as the presses and cupboards around.

“Now listen to me,” she said, harshly.

“Yes, aunt.”

“I’m not going to boast; but what have I done for you?”

“Paid for my schooling, aunt, and kept me three years.”

“Where would you have been if it hadn’t been for me?”

“Living with Aunt Price at Caerwmlych.”

“Starving with her, you mean, when she can hardly keep herself,” said Mrs Lloyd, sharply. “Now, look here, Polly, I’ve taken you from a life of misery to make you well off and happy; and I will be minded. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, aunt.”

“Then do as I tell you exactly. Do you hear?”

“I’ll try, aunt.”

“Try? You must. Now, then: Did he speak to you?”

“Yes, aunt.”

“What did he say? Come, speak, child!”

“He asked me who I was, aunt; and what I had come for.”

“Of course, you silly little thing. There, no more tears. It’s dreadful treatment, isn’t it, to make you go in and attend to him a little?”

“Please, aunt, I don’t mind that,” said the girl.

“No, I should think not, indeed,” said Mrs Lloyd. “He’s an ogre to look at, isn’t he?”

“No, aunt, I think he’s a fine, handsome man.”

“Not a finer, nor a handsomer, nor a nicer in all Cornwall: and you ought to be fine and pleased to be in the house. And now look here, madam – no more tears, if you please.”

“No, aunt.”

“And you’re always to be nicely dressed, and do your hair well.”

“Yes, aunt.”

“And keep yourself to yourself, madam. Recollect, please, that you’re my niece, staying in the house, and not one of the servants.”

“Yes, aunt.”

The door opened, and the butler put in his head.

“It’s lunch-time now, and I am having the things taken in again.”

“That’s quite right.”

“Do you want to come?”

“Not now; only Mary shall bring in the vegetables.”

“Hadn’t William better help?” said the butler.

“No, not to-day. There will be a pack more people here to-morrow, and she can’t come then. Here, child, take these clean napkins and be ready to carry them into the dining-room.”

“But my face, aunt – won’t they see?”

“What – that you have been crying?” said the housekeeper, critically. “No; they won’t. Stop here a minute while I go out into the hall.”

The girl, from being scarlet, was now pale, but quite a little “rustic beauty” all the same; and she stood by the linen press looking very troubled, while Mrs Lloyd went back into the hall, where Trevor had stepped out to speak to the butler.

“Oh, there you are, Mrs Lloyd,” he said, in a quiet, decided tone of voice. “I was just speaking to Lloyd about one or two little matters. Of course, I feel the highest respect for both you and your worthy husband.”

“Thank you, Master Dick,” said the housekeeper, stiffly.

“Yes, that’s it,” said Trevor. “And of course you can’t help looking upon me as the boy you were almost father and mother to at one time.”

“Of course not,” said Mrs Lloyd, stiffly; “but you don’t mean to turn us away now you have grown a man?”

“God forbid!” said Trevor, earnestly. “While I live, this is your home, and I shall interfere but little with you in the conduct of the house. But I take this opportunity of saying that I must ask of you both to remember – old friends as well as old servants of the family – that I have now come back to take my position here as the master of Penreife, and that, in speaking to me before visitors, ‘Master Dick’ sounds rather childish. That will do, Mrs Lloyd. Yes, Lloyd, you can bring in some of the claret.”

He walked into the dining-room, the quiet, calm man of the world, with enough dignity and self-assertion to show the housekeeper that the days of her rule had departed for ever.

“That’s going to sea, that is,” she muttered. “That’s being used to order people about, and being an officer. But we shall see, Master Dick – we shall see!”

And with a quick, spasmodic twitching of her hands as she smoothed down her apron, she went back muttering to her own room.

Mishaps

Lunch at Tolcarne that day was not one of the most pleasant of meals. Sir Hampton had come in, looking purple instead of red with his walk, to pause at the hall door and dismiss Sanders, the gardener, who stood mopping his face.

“Er-rum! Look here, Sanders!” he exclaimed.

“Yes, sir,” said Sanders.