Chambers's Journal of Popular Literature, Science, and Art, No. 700. Various

surprise, I paused a moment to reconnoitre before advancing. She turned her face towards me, and although I did not immediately recognise who she was, I knew that I had seen her before.

      'Do you wish to speak to me? I am Miss Haddon.'

      'Yes; I know you are.'

      Then it flashed upon me who she was.

      'You are Mr Wentworth's housekeeper?'

      'Yes.'

      My heart sank with a foreboding of some evil, and for a moment I could not utter a word. Then screwing up my courage, I asked in as matter-of-course a tone as I could assume: 'He is quite well, I hope?'

      'Nobody cares whether he's ill or well, I expect.'

      'You are very much mistaken!' I replied, in some agitation. 'Every one who knows him would care a great deal! You ought to know that they would.'

      I suppose my face and tone satisfied her that I was so far saying what I thought, though she only shifted her ground of offence in consequence.

      'If he was ill he wouldn't be wanting people's pity.'

      'But I hope – Is he ill?'

      'Why should he be ill?' she rejoined angrily. Then endeavouring to command herself, she went on: 'But I haven't come here to talk about that. Ill or well, he doesn't know I've come here, and would be very angry if he did. You must please to recollect that. I should have been here before, but it took me two days, putting this and that together, to find out where you live. You are living with the ladies at the cottage down there?'

      'Yes.'

      'Well, that can't be much of a place; but I suppose situations are not so plentiful, and anything is better than' —

      'What is it you have come to say to me?' I asked shortly.

      'You are very masterful, and know how to get your way when you want it. You two are a match for each other; and I knew you would find that out. I knew no good would come of it when I let you get the better of me that day; and I'd sooner do anything than come to you now. You may be sure of that.'

      'I know that for some foolish reason you took a prejudice against me; but being disliked before one is known, ought not to distress one, though I should prefer not being disliked.'

      'If you're not hurt you needn't complain,' she replied, as though determined not to yield an inch.

      'What have you come to say to me?' I repeated. 'I suppose you did not come all this way to remind me that you are prejudiced against me?'

      'No.' She looked over the hedge and around in all directions before continuing; then said in a low voice: 'You thought my master's looked but a poor place for a gentleman born to live in, that day. I saw how sharp you was to notice, and how poor and shabby you thought it all was.'

      'You are too ready to ascribe thoughts to me,' I replied.

      'But you did now; didn't you? You can't say that you didn't think things looked a bit poor?'

      'Mr Wentworth can afford to be more careless about appearances than can most people,' I said, not in the least comprehending her drift. 'It was all well enough for a bachelor's home.'

      'Ay, well enough for a bachelor's home perhaps; but not for a married couple, eh?'

      'Really!'

      'Try to keep your temper for another five minutes, if you please, Miss. I know there's no love lost between us two; but I've come here because I've got something to say; and proud and masterful as you are, I know you are the sort to be trusted, and I'm going to trust you. I carried Master Robert in my arms when he was a baby, and I know him and love him more than any fine madam ever can. He was left very poor, and he worked very hard, and a better master or kinder gentleman – But that's not what I've come to say; nobody will ever know his goodness as I do' – jealously. 'He was poor, and I was poor, and I've had some ado to keep things together for him. But about three years ago my brother died, and things changed for me. He was a small farmer down in Gloucestershire, and everybody called him a miser; but it is not for me to complain of his scraping and saving, for he left all he had to me, and a nice little nest-egg it turned out to be. It's been down in my will for Master Robert from the first day I had it; and it has been 'cumulating ever since; not a penny of it have I ever touched. The pleasure has been to think that there it was all ready for him, though I was too proud to see how much he liked working his way up in the world, to tell him about it before he wanted it.'

      'I am sincerely glad to know he has so faithful a friend,' I said, holding out my hand to her.

      'Wait a bit, Miss; let me say my say. To-morrow morning that money will be made over to Master Robert, and he will be told that he'll never see no more of me if he won't take it; and the lawyer he says it brings in pretty nigh ninety pounds a year, now!' Pausing a moment to give me time to recover that.

      What could I say? Growing hot and confused and pained as her meaning began to dawn upon me, I murmured: 'It is a good sum – and' —

      'And that's not all,' she said eagerly. 'You must remember Master Robert is getting on now and being talked about. I've brought this paper down with me that you may see his name in it for yourself;' taking a newspaper from her pocket, hastily unfolding it and pointing out with trembling finger a short but eulogistic notice of a pamphlet by R. Wentworth. 'There's no gainsaying that, you know.' Slipping it into her pocket again, she earnestly went on, laying her hand upon my arm, and seeing only him in her increased anxiety: 'I don't say that prudence isn't a good thing; I'm not for foolish marriages when there's nothing to depend on; but there's the ninety pounds a year, and what he earns, besides a house to live in, and my services for nothing; and master says my bark's worse than my bite; bless you, his wife's no call to be afraid of me!'

      'Hush, pray hush!' I murmured, seeing all her meaning now. 'Do you think any one who loved Robert Wentworth would care about all that!'

      'Then it is that he isn't loved? God help him!' The cold, hard, set look came into her face again – though she would seem cold and hard now to me never again – and she folded her cloak about her.

      'Will you tell me how Mr Wentworth is?' I could not help asking.