Ellmother. "I am staying at Brighton, for the present, with the lady who was Miss Emily"s schoolmistress, and I am in need of a maid. Would you be willing to consider it, if I proposed to engage you?"
"Yes, miss."
"In that case, you can hardly object to the customary inquiry. Why did you leave your last place?"
Mrs. Ellmother appealed to Emily. "Did you tell this young lady how long I remained in my last place?"
Melancholy remembrances had been revived in Emily by the turn which the talk had now taken. Francine"s cat-like patience, stealthily feeling its way to its end, jarred on her nerves. "Yes," she said; "in justice to you, I have mentioned your long term of service."
Mrs. Ellmother addressed Francine. "You know, miss, that I served my late mistress for over twenty-five years. Will you please remember that--and let it be a reason for not asking me why I left my place."
Francine smiled compa.s.sionately. "My good creature, you have mentioned the very reason why I _should_ ask. You live five-and-twenty years with your mistress--and then suddenly leave her--and you expect me to pa.s.s over this extraordinary proceeding without inquiry. Take a little time to think."
"I want no time to think. What I had in my mind, when I left Miss Let.i.tia, is something which I refuse to explain, miss, to you, or to anybody."
She recovered some of her old firmness, when she made that reply.
Francine saw the necessity of yielding--for the time at least, Emily remained silent, oppressed by remembrance of the doubts and fears which had darkened the last miserable days of her aunt"s illness. She began already to regret having made Francine and Mrs. Ellmother known to each other.
"I won"t dwell on what appears to be a painful subject," Francine graciously resumed. "I meant no offense. You are not angry, I hope?"
"Sorry, miss. I might have been angry, at one time. That time is over."
It was said sadly and resignedly: Emily heard the answer. Her heart ached as she looked at the old servant, and thought of the contrast between past and present. With what a hearty welcome this broken woman had been used to receive her in the bygone holiday-time! Her eyes moistened. She felt the merciless persistency of Francine, as if it had been an insult offered to herself. "Give it up!" she said sharply.
"Leave me, my dear, to manage my own business," Francine replied. "About your qualifications?" she continued, turning coolly to Mrs. Ellmother.
"Can you dress hair?"
"Yes."
"I ought to tell you," Francine insisted, "that I am very particular about my hair."
"My mistress was very particular about her hair," Mrs. Ellmother answered.
"Are you a good needlewoman?"
"As good as ever I was--with the help of my spectacles."
Francine turned to Emily. "See how well we get on together. We are beginning to understand each other already. I am an odd creature, Mrs.
Ellmother. Sometimes, I take sudden likings to persons--I have taken a liking to you. Do you begin to think a little better of me than you did?
I hope you will produce the right impression on Miss Ladd; you shall have every a.s.sistance that I can give. I will beg Miss Ladd, as a favor to me, not to ask you that one forbidden question."
Poor Mrs. Ellmother, puzzled by the sudden appearance of Francine in the character of an eccentric young lady, the creature of genial impulse, thought it right to express her grat.i.tude for the promised interference in her favor. "That"s kind of you, miss," she said.
"No, no, only just. I ought to tell you there"s one thing Miss Ladd is strict about--sweethearts. Are you quite sure," Francine inquired jocosely, "that you can answer for yourself, in that particular?"
This effort of humor produced its intended effect. Mrs. Ellmother, thrown off her guard, actually smiled. "Lord, miss, what will you say next!"
"My good soul, I will say something next that is more to the purpose. If Miss Ladd asks me why you have so unaccountably refused to be a servant again in this house, I shall take care to say that it is certainly not out of dislike to Miss Emily."
"You need say nothing of the sort," Emily quietly remarked.
"And still less," Francine proceeded, without noticing the interruption--"still less through any disagreeable remembrances of Miss Emily"s aunt."
Mrs. Ellmother saw the trap that had been set for her. "It won"t do, miss," she said.
"What won"t do?"
"Trying to pump me."
Francine burst out laughing. Emily noticed an artificial ring in her gayety which suggested that she was exasperated, rather than amused, by the repulse which had baffled her curiosity once more.
Mrs. Ellmother reminded the merry young lady that the proposed arrangement between them had not been concluded yet. "Am I to understand, miss, that you will keep a place open for me in your service?"
"You are to understand," Francine replied sharply, "that I must have Miss Ladd"s approval before I can engage you. Suppose you come to Brighton? I will pay your fare, of course."
"Never mind my fare, miss. Will you give up pumping?"
"Make your mind easy. It"s quite useless to attempt pumping _you_. When will you come?"
Mrs. Ellmother pleaded for a little delay. "I"m altering my gowns," she said. "I get thinner and thinner--don"t I, Miss Emily? My work won"t be done before Thursday."
"Let us say Friday, then," Francine proposed.
"Friday!" Mrs. Ellmother exclaimed. "You forget that Friday is an unlucky day."
"I forgot that, certainly! How can you be so absurdly superst.i.tious."
"You may call it what you like, miss. I have good reason to think as I do. I was married on a Friday--and a bitter bad marriage it turned out to be. Superst.i.tious, indeed! You don"t know what my experience has been. My only sister was one of a party of thirteen at dinner; and she died within the year. If we are to get on together nicely, I"ll take that journey on Sat.u.r.day, if you please."
"Anything to satisfy you," Francine agreed; "there is the address. Come in the middle of the day, and we will give you your dinner. No fear of our being thirteen in number. What will you do, if you have the misfortune to spill the salt?"
"Take a pinch between my finger and thumb, and throw it over my left shoulder," Mrs. Ellmother answered gravely. "Good-day, miss."
"Good-day."
Emily followed the departing visitor out to the hall. She had seen and heard enough to decide her on trying to break off the proposed negotiation--with the one kind purpose of protecting Mrs. Ellmother against the pitiless curiosity of Francine.
"Do you think you and that young lady are likely to get on well together?" she asked.
"I have told you already, Miss Emily, I want to get away from my own home and my own thoughts; I don"t care where I go, so long as I do that." Having answered in those words, Mrs. Ellmother opened the door, and waited a while, thinking. "I wonder whether the dead know what is going on in the world they have left?" she said, looking at Emily. "If they do, there"s one among them knows my thoughts, and feels for me.
Good-by, miss--and don"t think worse of me than I deserve."
Emily went back to the parlor. The only resource left was to plead with Francine for mercy to Mrs. Ellmother.
"Do you really mean to give it up?" she asked.
"To give up--what? "Pumping," as that obstinate old creature calls it?"
Emily persisted. "Don"t worry the poor old soul! However strangely she may have left my aunt and me her motives are kind and good--I am sure of that. Will you let her keep her harmless little secret?"