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Read Ebook: The Girl's Own Paper Vol. XX. No. 1011 May 13 1899 by Various
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Ebook has 353 lines and 24343 words, and 8 pages
MAY 13, 1899.
GOOD NIGHT.
BY SARAH DOUDNEY.
Sleep, sister, sleep, while the lovely light Shines still through the dark old firs; The birds sleep sound in their nests all night, And only the wild wind stirs; Far over the hills and far away The earth is losing its gold; And sheep-bells chime through the twilight grey, While the flocks come home to fold.
Lie down, my dear, in your own warm nest, And sister will sit and sing When mother watches her darling's rest, And the stars are clustering Like silver flowers in the darkened sky, And the toil of man is done; Sleep, baby, sleep to my lullaby, And wake with the waking sun!
THE HOUSE WITH THE VERANDAH.
THE ROOTS OF HOSPITALITY.
Lucy paid no heed to her sister's words, being diverted by another bit of by-play. "Jessie Morison's" keen grey eyes had fallen on little Hugh, and her face had instantly broken into a smile. Could this superior, experienced, well-trained woman really want a general servant's place?
"Yes, ma'am," said Jessie Morison, "I'm wanting a quiet place that I could keep nice and comfortable."
"But I have hitherto had quite a young woman," urged Mrs. Challoner. "There are only myself and the little boy--until my husband comes home from a voyage," she explained.
Jessie Morison pondered.
"That will suit me nicely," she said. "Did the girl do the washing, ma'am?"
"I'm a capital washer," said Jessie Morison, "and I dress well, too. I shouldn't need help, ma'am--no, not for such a small family. I don't like strangers coming about my kitchen, they make more work than they do."
"We dine early," said Lucy. "There are but few visitors. But you would have everything to do in the house; and while my husband is away, I shall not be able to give much help, as I am busy otherwise."
"It's not a very large house, maybe?" asked Jessie, in a pleasant tone, suggesting only that in her opinion a small house was the proper thing.
"No, it is a small house," said Lucy. "Have you always been in service?"
"Well, ma'am, yes and no. I was in service as a girl. Then I got married. I'm a widow, ma'am. He only lived three years. He was thrown from a horse. I've been in service since."
"How long were you in your last situation, and where was it?" inquired Lucy.
"It was near Edinburgh, ma'am--between Edinburgh and Berwick--and I was there twenty years." She said this quite simply, as if she had no idea of effect.
"Twenty years!" echoed Lucy.
"Yes, ma'am. I was with the lady and gentleman first, and when he died, I lived on with the mistress. She died last year."
"What made you come away from all your friends to London?" Mrs. Challoner asked.
"Well, I hadn't many friends to leave--we'd lived terrible quiet-like--and I had a cousin and his wife with a nice home near London, and they asked me up for a visit, and now I'd sooner stay here than go back."
"From whom shall I get your references?" asked Lucy, putting the question almost reluctantly.
"Well, you see, the family I've been with is all gone, ma'am. And the poor mistress she was bed-rid for nigh ten years, and few folks came about her. When I left the North, I hardly knew what I was going to do--I half thought of a little shop, ma'am--but I thought I'd keep on the safe side in case I decided on another place. So I got lines from the parish minister and from my mistress's lawyer. There was nobody knew me better as woman or worker than them two. There's the papers, ma'am, and they said they'd answer any other inquiries; but they couldn't well say more than they've said there."
Mrs. Challoner took the manuscripts. She read the shorter first. It was from the lawyer. The paper was stamped with a good Edinburgh legal address, and the handwriting was professional and educated. The missive was in note form.
"Mr. McGillvray has known Mrs. Jessie Morison for many years as the sole household help and personal attendant of a lately deceased lady, Mrs. Bruce of Ashfield. She was much valued and trusted by her late mistress, and so far as Mr. McGillvray had opportunity to observe, she was attentive and punctilious in the discharge of all her duties."
The minister's testimonial was longer and stronger. The Rev. John Black, of the Established Manse, Mickleton, addressing the unknown as "Dear Sir or Madam," said that he had very much pleasure in recommending Mrs. Jessie Morison to anybody who would appreciate faithful service such as she had rendered for twenty years to employers who had owed most of their comfort and security to her diligence and devotion. He also knew Mrs. Jessie Morison to be a kind and helpful neighbour. He sincerely hoped that she might find a new sphere in which her capacities and qualities might prove useful to others and beneficial to herself.
"These seem very satisfactory," said Lucy.
"If you don't think she is too old, you should be satisfied," murmured Florence, who had looked over the testimonials while Mrs. Challoner read them.
"Only it is more satisfactory to have a personal reference," Lucy went on. After what she had recently seen and heard, this seemed so much too good to be true that it flashed across her mind it might be a case of personation. Yet when she looked up at the douce, middle-aged face, she rebuked herself for the suspicion.
Jessie Morison did not resent the hesitation.
"I know it's awkward," she admitted; "but you might write to the gentlemen. I tell you they promised me they would answer any question."
Lucy reflected. She did not see how that would help her. If there was anything unsound in the matter, more written testimonials would thicken the plot rather than clear it. Yet how natural and inevitable the circumstances seemed! How wrong it would be to let this nice woman slip through her fingers merely for the sake of a mere convention!
"Is there nobody within reach who can say a word for you?" she suggested.
"Well, ma'am," said Jessie Morison anxiously, "of course, there's my cousins; but I didn't like to mention them, because most ladies would think relations don't count for much. They're highly respectable. He's got a shop, and they've lived in the same house for years, and everybody knows them."
"I think that will do," Lucy conceded. After all, it seemed only a question of identity, and this inquiry would surely settle that.
"Very well, ma'am, thank you kindly. There's my cousin's business card, ma'am, and the dwelling-house is along with the shop. When will you likely call, ma'am?"
"Some time in the course of to-morrow," Lucy answered. "Is there any particular time more suitable than another?"
"Oh, no, ma'am, they're always at home at work--him in his shop, and her in her house. I only wanted to hear that you'd come at once, ma'am, for I'm so eager to get settled."
"It shall be settled by to-morrow evening," Lucy promised. "Good morning, Mrs. Morison."
"Good morning, ma'am, and thank you, and I think you'll find everything all right."
Lucy was already joyfully gathering up her possessions. As for little Hugh, he sprang forward and danced a jig with delight at the prospect of departure. His mother turned to take courteous leave of the knitting lady, who looked up with an inscrutable smile.
"I congratulate you," she remarked. "I suppose you think you have got off easily?"
"I think I am suited," Lucy said with an air of triumph to the registry clerk, when she found her. "When ought I to pay my fee?"
"You can pay it now, ma'am. Five shillings. Oh, do you think it expensive, ma'am? Remember that for the same fee, if you choose, you can come here every day and all day long till you do get suited! We arrange so in case ladies are not fortunate at first. We make only the same charge for hiring cooks or housemaids, but then they are more easily got than generals, and also they pay a percentage on their wages when they are hired. We charge the 'generals' nothing, poor things."
"Fancy taking out your money's worth by sitting there 'till one is suited,'" cried Lucy, when they were once more outside in the fresh air.
"And did you see, Florence, the cousin's address is at Willesden, and I shall have to lose another whole November day's light in going there."
"No, you needn't," said Florence, "not if you'll trust me. I've an acquaintance at Willesden to whom I owe a call, so if you like I'll kill the two birds with one stone. If everything is satisfactory, I'll engage this woman on your behalf, and send you a wire that it is all right, and naming the day when she can come. You'll be glad of her as soon as possible. I promised you I'd see you through this, Luce."
Lucy was glad to feel that the said promise had not been absolutely forgotten, and she gratefully accepted the offered help.
"Of course, she's too old. I don't advise you to take her, remember that," Florence went on. "But your heart is set on it."
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