"'Twill make the servants'part more wholesome and less damp and draughty,"she said;"and if I should sell the place,will be to its advantage.'Twas a builder with little wit who planned such passages and black holes.In spite of all the lime spread there,they were ever mouldy and of evil odour."It was her command that there should be no time lost,and men were set at work,carrying bricks and mortar.It so chanced that one of them,going in through a back entrance with a hod over his shoulder,and being young and lively,found his eye caught by the countenance of a pretty,frightened-looking girl,who seemed to be loitering about watching,as if curious or anxious.Seeing her near each time he passed,and observing that she wished to speak,but was too timid,he addressed her -"Would you know aught,mistress?"he said.
She drew nearer gratefully,and then he saw her eyes were red as if with weeping.
"Think you her ladyship would let a poor girl speak a word with her?"she said."Think you I dare ask so much of a servant--or would they flout me and turn me from the door?Have you seen her?
Does she look like a hard,shrewish lady?""That she does not,though all stand in awe of her,"he answered,pleased to talk with so pretty a creature."I but caught a glimpse of her when she gave orders concerning the closing with brick of a passage-way below.She is a tall lady,and grand and stately,but she hath a soft pair of eyes as ever man would wish to look into,be he duke or ditcher."The tears began to run down the girl's cheeks.
"Ay!"she said;"all men love her,they say.Many a poor girl's sweetheart has been false through her--and I thought she was cruel and ill-natured.Know you the servants that wait on her?Would you dare to ask one for me,if he thinks she would deign to see a poor girl who would crave the favour to be allowed to speak to her of--of a gentleman she knows?""They are but lacqueys,and I would dare to ask what was in my mind,"he answered;"but she is near her wedding-day,and little as I know of brides'ways,I am of the mind that she will not like to be troubled.""That I stand in fear of,"she said;"but,oh!I pray you,ask some one of them--a kindly one."The young man looked aside."Luck is with you,"he said."Here comes one now to air himself in the sun,having naught else to do.
Here is a young woman who would speak with her ladyship,"he said to the strapping powdered fellow.
"She had best begone,"the lacquey answered,striding towards the applicant."Think you my lady has time to receive traipsing wenches.""'Twas only for a moment I asked,"the girl said."I come from--Iwould speak to her of--of Sir John Oxon--whom she knows."The man's face changed.It was Jenfry.
"Sir John Oxon,"he said."Then I will ask her.Had you said any other name I would not have gone near her to-day."Her ladyship was in her new closet with Mistress Anne,and there the lacquey came to her to deliver his errand.
"A country-bred young woman,your ladyship,"he said,"comes from Sir John Oxon--""From Sir John Oxon!"cried Anne,starting in her chair.
My Lady Dunstanwolde made no start,but turned a steady countenance towards the door,looking into the lacquey's face.
"Then he hath returned?"she said.
"Returned!"said Anne.
"After the morning he rode home with me,"my lady answered,"'twas said he went away.He left his lodgings without warning.It seems he hath come back.What does the woman want?"she ended.
"To speak with your ladyship,"replied the man,"of Sir John himself,she says.""Bring her to me,"her ladyship commanded.
The girl was brought in,overawed and trembling.She was a country-bred young creature,as the lacquey had said,being of the simple rose-and-white freshness of seventeen years perhaps,and having childish blue eyes and fair curling locks.
She was so frightened by the grandeur of her surroundings,and the splendid beauty of the lady who was so soon to be a duchess,and was already a great earl's widow,that she could only stand within the doorway,curtseying and trembling,with tears welling in her eyes.
"Be not afraid,"said my Lady Dunstanwolde."Come hither,child,and tell me what you want."Indeed,she did not look a hard or shrewish lady;she spoke as gently as woman could,and a mildness so unexpected produced in the young creature such a revulsion of feeling that she made a few steps forward and fell upon her knees,weeping,and with uplifted hands.
"My lady,"she said,"I know not how I dared to come,but that I am so desperate--and your ladyship being so happy,it seemed--it seemed that you might pity me,who am so helpless and know not what to do."Her ladyship leaned forward in her chair,her elbow on her knee,her chin held in her hand,to gaze at her.
"You come from Sir John Oxon?"she said.
Anne,watching,clutched each arm of her chair.
"Not FROM him,asking your ladyship's pardon,"said the child,"but--but--from the country to him,"her head falling on her breast,"and I know not where he is.""You came TO him,"asked my lady."Are you,"and her speech was pitiful and slow--"are you one of those whom he has--ruined?"The little suppliant looked up with widening orbs.
"How could that be,and he so virtuous and pious a gentleman?"she faltered.
Then did my lady rise with a sudden movement.
"Was he so?"says she.
"Had he not been,"the child answered,"my mother would have been afraid to trust him.I am but a poor country widow's daughter,but was well brought up,and honestly--and when he came to our village my mother was afraid,because he was a gentleman;but when she saw his piety,and how he went to church and sang the psalms and prayed for grace,she let me listen to him.""Did he go to church and sing and pray at first?"my lady asks.
