Mistress and Maid. By the author of 'John Halifax Gentleman,' etc

Preface

. Books written " with a purpose " are so often disapproved of, that the author may as well confess openly that this book has one — a distinct, deliberate purpose, from beginning to end. The relation between domestic servants and their employ ers is becoming such a serious question, that anything which any thoughtful woman, who has had some observation and experience in the matter, can say thereupon, is possibly not unworthy a hearing ; even if it only rouses wiser women to think and say something more. I trust, therefore, that all who agree with me in the opinions here expressed, will dis seminate this tale as widely as possible ; that mistresses will send it down to the kitchen j that benevolent ladies who are Sunday school teachers and district visitors will lend it among the poor ; and that masters — if any read it, for it is not exactly a man's book — will try to circulate it among me chanics and mechanics' wives and daughters. It may thus

PREFACE.

. VI reach the class for whom it was specially written, and with a view to whom it was originally published in " Good Words." I also wish to say, that though, of course, the incidents of " Mistress and Maid " are purely imaginary, one character therein is not. Had I told the real history of the original of feElizabeth Hand, it would have been the story of a life more beautiful in its simplicity, self-denial, and self-devotion, than any fiction of mine. I have felt myself justified, not only as a tribute to the memory of the dead, but as an in centive and ensample to the living, in thus " putting into a book," literally and faithfully painted, the portrait of one who was unto the end of her days- — to both God and man — a faithful servant.

Chapter I

She was a rather tall, awkward, strongly-built girl of about fifteeu. This was the first impression which the maid gave to her mistresses, the Misses Leaf, when she entered their kitchen, accompanied by her mother, who was a widow and washerwoman, by name Mrs Hand. I must confess, when they saw the damsel, the ladies felt a certain twinge of doubt as to whether they had not been rash in offering to take her into their service ; whether it would not have been wiser still to have gone on in their old way — now, alas ! grown into a very old way, so as almost to make them forget they had ever had any other — and done without a servant." Many consultations had the three sisters held together before such a revolutionary extravagance was determined on. But Miss Leaf was beginning both to look and to feel " not so young as she had been ; " Miss Selina, ditto ; though, be ing still under forty, she would not have acknowledged it for the world.

And Miss Hilary, young, bright, and active as she was, could by no possibility do everything that was to be done in the little establishment ; be, for instance, in three places at once — in the school-room, teaching little boys and girls — in the kitchen, cooking dinner — and in the rooms up-stairs, busy at housemaid's work. Besides, much of her time was spent in waiting upon "poor Selina," who frequently was, or fancied herself, too ill to take any part in either the school or house duties. Though, the trouble being inevitable, she said little about it, Miss Leafs heart was often sore to see Hilary's pretty hands smeared by blacking grates, and roughened by scour ing floors. To herself this sort of thing had become natural ■but Hilary ! During the time of Hilary's childhood, she, the youngest of the family, had of course been spared all housework ; and afterwards her studies had left no time for it.

Por she was a clever girl, with a genuine love of knowledge ; Latin, Greek, and even the higher branches of arithmetic and mathematics, were not beyond her range ; and these studies she found much more interesting than washing dishes or sweeping floors. True, she always did whatever domestic duty she was told to do ; but her inclinations were not in the house hold line. She had only lately learnt to " see dust," to make a pudding, to iron a shirt ; and, moreover, to reflect, as she slowly woke up to the knowledge of how these things should be done, and how necessary they were — what must have been her eldest sister's lot during all these twenty years ! What pains, what weariness, what incessant toil must Johanna have endured — and endured in patient silence — in order to do all those hundred and one small household things which till now had seemed to do themselves.

Therefore, after much cogitation as to the best and most prudent way to amend matters, and perceiving with her clear common sense that, willing as she might be to work in the kitchen, her own time would be much more valuably spent in teaching their little school, it was Hilary who, these Christ mas holidays, first started the bold idea, " We must have a servant." And therefore, it being necessary to begin with a very small servant, on very low wages (£3 per annum was, I fear, the maximum), did they take this Elizabeth Hand. So, hanging behind her parent, an anxious-eyed and rather sad-voiced woman, did Elizabeth enter the kitchen of the Misses Leaf. The ladies were all there — Johanna arranging the table for their early tea ; Selina lying on the sofa, trying lazily to cut bread and butter ; Hilary on her knees before the fire, making the bit of toast— her eldest sister's one luxury.

This was the picture that her three mistresses presented to Eliza beth's eyes ; eyes which, though they seemed to notice no thing, in reality, as events proved, noticed everything. "I've brought my daughter, ma'am, as you sent word you'd take on trial," said Mrs Hand, addressing herself to Selina, who, as the tallest, the best-dressed, and the most im posing, was usually regarded by strangers as the head of the family. " Oh, it's about the servant. Here, Johanna! " Miss Leaf came forward, rather uncertainly, for she was of a shy nature, and had been so long accustomed to do the menial work of the household, that she felt quite awkward in the character of mistress. Instinctively she hid her poor roughened hands, that would at once have betrayed her to the sharp eyes of the working-woman, and then, ashamed of her momentary false pride, laid them outside her apron and sat down.

" Will you take a chair, Mrs Hand ? My sister told you, I believe, all our requirements. We only want a good, in telligent girl. • We are willing to teach her everything." " Thank you kindly ; and I be willing and glad for her to learn, ma'am," replied the mother, her sharp and rather free tone subdued in spite of herself by the gentle voice of Miss Leaf. Of course, living in the same country town, she knew all about the three school-mistresses, and how till now they had kept no servant. "It's her first place, and her'll be awk'ard at first, most like. Hold up your head, Eliza beth." " Is her name Elizabeth ? " "Par too long and too fine," observed Selina from the sofa. " Call her Betty." " Anything you please, miss ; but her name's Elizabeth. It wor my young missis's name in my first place, where I lived till I wor married."

" We will call her Elizabeth," said Miss Leaf, with the gentle decision she could use on occasion. There was a little more discussion between the mother and the future mistress as to holidays, Sundays, and so forth, during which time the new servant stood silent and impassive in the doorway between the back-kitchen and the kitchen, or, as it is called in those regions, the house-place. As before said, Elizabeth was by no means a personable girl, and her clothes did not set her off to advantage. Her cotton frock hung in straight lines down to her ankles, dis playing her clumsily-shod feet and woollen stockings ; above it was a pinafore — a regular child's pinafore, of the cheap, strong, blue-speckled print, which in those days were gener ally worn. A little shabby shawl, pinned at the throat, and pinned very carelessly and crookedly, with an old black bonnet, much too small for her large head and her quantities of ill-kept hair, completed her costume.

It did not impress favourably a lady who, being, or rather having been, very handsome herself, was as much alive to appearances as the second Miss Leaf. She made several rather depreciatory observations, and in sisted strongly that the new servant should only be taken " on trial," with no obligation for them to keep her a day longer than they wished. Her uneasy feeling on the matter com municated itself to Johanna, who closed the negotiation with Mrs Hand, by saying — " Well, let us hope your daughter will suit us. We will give her a fair chance at all events." " Which is all I can ax for, Miss Leaf. Her bean't much to look at, but her's willin' and sharp, and her's never told me a lie in her life. Curtsey to thy missus, and say thee'lt do thy best, Elizabeth." Pulled forward, Elizabeth did curtsey, but she never offered to speak.

And Miss Leaf, feeling that for the sake of all parties the interview had better be shortened, rose from the chair. Mrs Hand took the hint and departed, saying only, " Good-bye, Elizabeth," with a nod, half-encouraging, half admonitory, which Elizabeth silently returned. This was all the adieu between mother and daughter : they neither kissed nor shook hands, which undemonstrative farewell somewhat surprised Hilary. Now, Miss Hilary Leaf had all this while gone on toast ing her slice of bread — luckily for it, the fire was low and black : meantime, from behind her long drooping curls (which Johanna would not let her " turn up," though she was twenty) she was making her observations on the new servant. It might be, that, possessing more head than the one and more heart than the other, Hilary was gifted with deeper percep tion of character than either of her sisters ; but certainly her expression, as she watched Elizabeth, was rather amused and kindly than dissatisfied.

" Now, girl, take off your bonnet," said Selina, to whom Johanna had silently appealed in her perplexity as to the next proceeding with regard to the new member of the household. Elizabeth obeyed, 'and then stood, irresolute, awkward, and wretched to the last degree, at the furthest end of the "house-place. " Shall I show you where to hang up your things ? " said Hilary, speaking for the first time ; and at the new voice, so quick, cheerful, and pleasant, Elizabeth visibly started. Miss Hilary rose from her knees, crossed the kitchen, took from the girl's unresisting hands the old black bonnet and shawl, and hung them up carefully on a nail behind the great eight-day clock. It was a simple action, done quite without intention, and accepted without acknowledgment, except one quick glance of that keen yet soft grey eye ; but years and years after it was remembered and referred to.

And now Elizabeth stood forth in her own proper like ness, unconcealed by bonnet or shawl, or maternal protection. The pinafore scarcely covered her gaunt neck and long arms : that great head of rough, dusky hair was evidently for the first time gathered into a comb. Thence elf-locks escaped in all directions, and were for ever being pushed behind her ears, or rubbed (not smoothed, there was nothing smooth about her) back from her forehead ; which Hilary noticed was low, broad, and full. The rest of her face, except the before mentioned eyes, was absolutely and undeniably plain. Her figure, so far as the pinafore exhibited it, was undeveloped and ungainly ; the chest being contracted and the shoulders rounded, as if with carrying children or other weights while still a growing girl. In fact, nature and circumstances had apparently united in dealing unkindly with Elizabeth Hand.

Still here she was ; and what was to be done with her ? Having sent her with the small burden which was apparently all her luggage, to the little room — formerly a box closet—where she was to sleep, the Misses Leaf took serious counsel together over their tea. Tea itself suggested the first difficulty. They were always in the habit of taking that meal, and indeed every other, in the kitchen. It saved time, trouble, and fire ; besides leaving the parlour always tidy for callers, chiefly pupils' parents, and preventing these latter from discovering that the three orphan daughters of Henry Leaf, Esq., solicitor, and sisters of Henry Leaf, Junior, Esq., also solicitor, whose sole mission in life seemed to have been to spend everything, make every body miserable, marry, and die — that these three ladies did always wait upon themselves at meal-times, and did some times breakfast without butter, and dine without meat.

Now, this system would not do any longer. " Besides, there is no need for it," said Hilary, cheerfully. " I am sure we can well afford both to keep and to feed a servant, and to have a fire in the parlour every day. Why not take our meals there, and sit there regularly of even ings ? " " We must," added Selina, decidedly. " Por my part, I couldn't eat, or sew, or do anything with that great, hulk ing girl sitting staring opposite, — or standing ; for how could we ask her to sit ? Already, what must she have thought of us — people who take tea in the kitchen ? " " I do not think that matters," said the eldest sister, gently, after a moment's silence. " Everybody in the town knows who and what we are, or might if they chose to in quire. We cannot conceal our poverty if we tried ; and I don't think anybody looks down upon us for it.

Not even since we began to keep school, which you thought was such a terrible thing, Selina." " Aud it was. I have never reconciled myself to teaching the baker's two boys and the grocer's little girl. You were wrong, Johanna, you ought to have drawn the line some where, and it ought to have excluded tradespeople." " Beggars cannot be choosers," said Hilary. " Beggars ! " echoed Selina. " No, my dear, we never were that'," said Miss Leaf, in terposing against one of the sudden storms that were often breaking out between these two. " You know well we have never begged nor borrowed from anybody, and hardly ever been indebted to anybody, except for the extra lessons that Mr Lyon would insist upon giving to Ascott after school hours." Here Johanna suddenly stopped, and Hilary, with a slight colour rising in her face, said — " I think, sisters, we are forgetting that the staircase is quite open, and though I am sure she has an honest look, and not that of a listener, still Elizabeth might hear.

Shall I call her down-stairs, and tell her to light a fire in the parlour? " While she is doing it— and in spite of Selina's forebodings to the contrary, the small maiden did it quickly and well, especially after a hint or two from Hilary — let me take the opportunity of making a little picture of this same Hilary. Little it should be, for she was a decidedly little woman ; small altogether, hands, feet, and figure being in satisfactory proportion. Her movements, like those of most little women, were light and quick rather than elegant ; yet everything she did was done with a neatness and delicacy which gave an in voluntary sense of grace and harmony. She was, in brief, one of those people who are best described by the word "harmonious;" people who never set your teeth on edge, or rub you up the wrong way, as very excellent people occasionally do.

Yet she was not over-meek, or unpleasantly amiable ; there was a liveliness and even briskness about her, as if the everyday wine of her life had a spice of champagni ness, not frothiness, but natural effervescence of spirit, meant to " cheer but not inebriate " a household. And in her own household this gift was most displayed. No centre of a brilliant, admiring circle could be more charm ing, more witty, more irresistibly amusing than was Hilary sitting by the kitchen fireside, with the cat on her knee, be tween her two sisters, and the schoolboy Ascott Leaf, their nephew ; — which four individuals, the cat being not the least important of them, constituted the family. In the family Hilary shone supreme. All recognized her as the light of the house, and so she had been, ever since she was born, ever since her Dying mother mild, Said, with accents undefiled, " Child, be mother to this child."

It was said to Johanna Leaf — who was not Mrs Leafs own child. But the good step-mother, who on her marriage-day had taken the little motherless girl to her bosom, and never since made the slightest difference between her and her own children, knew well whom she was trusting. Prom that solemn hour, in the middle of the night, when Johanna lifted the hour-old baby out of its dead mother's bed into her own, it became her one object in life. Through a sickly infancy, for it was a child born amidst trouble, her sole hands washed, dressed, fed it : night and day it " lay in her bosom, and was unto her as a daughter." She was then just thirty : not too old to look forward to woman's natural destiny, a husband and children of her own. But years slipped by, and she remained Miss Leaf still. What matter ?

Hilary was her daughter. Johanna's pride in her knew no bounds. Not that she showed it much : indeed, she deemed it a sacred duty not to show it ; but to make believe her " child " was just like other children. But Hilary was not. Nobody ever thought she was — even in externals. Pate gave her all those gifts which are sometimes sent to make up for the lack of worldly pros perity. Her brown eyes were as soft as doves', yet could dance with fun and mischief if they chose : her hair, brown also, with a dark red shade in it, crisped itself in two wavy lines over her forehead, and then tumbled down in two glorious masses, which Johanna, ignorant, alas ! of art, called " very untidy," and laboured in vain to quell under combs, or to arrange in proper regular curls. Her features — well, they too were good ; better than these unartistic people had any idea of; better even than Selina's, who in'her youth had been the belle of the town.

But whether artistically correct or not, Johanna, though she would on no account have ac knowledged it, believed solemnly that there was not such a face in the whole world as little Hilary's. Possibly, a similar idea dawned on the apparently dull mind of Elizabeth Hand, for she watched her youngest mis tress intently, from kitchen to parlour, and from parlour back to kitchen ; and once when Miss Hilary stood giving information as to the proper abode of broom, bellows, &c, the little maid gazed at her with such admiring observation that the scuttle she carried was tilted, and the coals were strewn all over the kitchen floor. At which catastrophe Miss Leaf looked miserable, Miss Selina spoke crossly, and Ascott, who just then came in to his tea, late as usual, burst into a shout of laughter.

It was as much as Hilary could do to help laughing her self, she being too near her nephew's own age always to maintain a dignified, aunt-like attitude ; but nevertheless when, having disposed of her sisters in the parlour, she coaxed Ascott into the school-room, and insisted upon his Latin be ing done, she helping him, Aunt Hilary scolded him well, and bound him over to keep the peace towards the new servant. " But she is such a queer one. Exactly like a South Sea Islander. When she stood with her grim, stolid, despairing countenance, contemplating the coals — oh, Aunt Hilary, how killing she was ! " And the regular, rollicking, irresistible boy-laugh broke out again. " She will be great fun. Is she really to stay? " "I hope so," said Hilary, trying to be grave. "I hope never again to see Aunt Johanna cleaning the stairs, and getting up to light the kitchen fire of winter mornings, as she will do, if we have not a servant to do it for her.

Don't you see, Ascott ? " " Oh, I see," answered the boy, carelessly. " But don't bother me, please. Domestic affairs are for women, not men." Ascott was eighteen, and just about to pass out of his cater pillar state as a doctor's apprentice-lad, into the chrysalis condition of a medical student in London. " But," with sud den reflection, " I hope the girl won't be in my way. Don't let her meddle with any of my books and things." " No ; you need not be afraid. I have put all into your room. I myself cleared your rubbish out of the box closet "— " The box-closet. Now, really, I can't stand " — " She is to sleep in the box-closet ; where else could she sleep ? " said Hilary, resolutely, though inly quaking a little ; for, somehow, the merry, handsome, rather exacting lad had acquired considerable influence in this household of women.

" You must put up with the loss of your ' den,' Ascott : it would be a great shame if you did not. Can't you give up such a small thing for the sake of Aunt Johanna, and the rest of us ? " " Um ! " grumbled the boy, who, though he was not a bad fellow at heart, had a boy's dislike to " putting up " with the slightest inconvenience. " Well, it won't last long. I shall be off shortly. What a jolly life I'll have in London, Aunt Hilary ! I'll see Mr Lyon there, too." " Yes," said Aunt Hilary, briefly, returning to Dido and Æneas — humble and easy Latinity for a student of eighteen ; but, being apprenticed early, Ascott's education had been much neglected, till Mr Lyon came as usher to the Stowbury grammar-school, and happening to meet and take an interest in him, taught him and his Aunt Hilary Latin, Greek, and mathematics together, of evenings.

I shall make no mysteries here. Human nature is human nature all the world over. A tale with no love in it would be unnatural, unreal, impossible ; for there are no histories and no lives without love ; or if there could be, they need both pity and pardon, for they must be mere abortions of humanity. Thank Heaven, we, most of us, do not philosophise : we only live. We like one another, we hardly know why ; we love one another, we still less know why. If on the day she first saw — it was in Stowbury church — Mr Lyon's grave, heavy-browed, somewhat severe face ; for he was a Scotch man, and his sharp, strong Scotch features did look " hard," beside the soft, rosy, well-conditioned Saxon youth of Stow bury ; if on that Sunday any one had told Hilary Leaf that the face of this stranger was to be the one face of her life, stamped upon brain, and heart, and soul with a vividness that no after impressions were strong enough to efface, and re tained there with a tenacity that no vicissitudes of time, or place, or fortune had power to alter, Hilary would — yes, I think she would — have quietly kept looking on.

She would have accepted her lot, such as it was, with its shine and shade, its joy and its anguish : it came to her without her seeking, as most of the solemn things in life do ; and what ever it brought with it, it could have come from no other source than that from which all high and holy and pure loves ever must come — the will and permission of God. Mr Lyon himself requires no long description. In his first visit he had told Miss Leaf all about himself that there was to be known : that he was, as they were, a poor teacher, who had altogether " made himself," as so many Scotch stu dents do. His father, whom he scarcely remembered, had been a small Ayrshire farmer ; his mother was dead, and he had never had either brother or sister. Seeing how clever Miss Hilary was, and how, as a school mistress, she would need all the education she could possibly get, he had offered to teach her along with her nephew ; and she and Johanna were onlv too thankful for the advantage.

But during the teaching he had also taught her another thing, which neither had contemplated at the time — to re spect him with her whole soul, and to love him with her whole heart. Over this simple fact let no more be now said. Hilary said nothing. She recognized it herself as soon as he was gone ; a plain, sad, solemn truth which there was no de ceiving herself did not exist, even had she wished its non-ex istence. Perhaps Johanna also found it out, in her darling's extreme paleness and unusual quietness for a while ; but she too said nothing. Mr Lyon wrote regularly to Ascott, and once or twice to her, Miss Leaf; but though every one knew that Hilary was his particular friend in the whole family, he did not write to Hilary. He had departed rather suddenly, on account of some plan which, he said, affected his future very considerably ; but which, though he was in the habit of telling them his affairs, he did not further explain.

Still Johanna knew he wras a good man, and though no man could be quite good enough for her darling — she liked him, she trusted him. What Hilary felt none knew. But she was very girlish in some things ; and her life was all before her, full of infinite hope. By and by her colour returned, and her merry voice and laugh were heard about the house just as usual. This being the position of affairs, it was not surprising that after Ascott's last speech Hilary's mind wandered from Dido and Æneas, to vague listening, as the lad began talking of his grand future — the future of a medical student, all ex penses being paid by his godfather, Mr Ascott, the merchant, of Russell Square, once a shop-boy of Stowbury. Nor was it unnatural that all Ascott's anticipations of London resolved themselves, in his aunt's eyes, into the one fact that he would " see Mr Lyon."

But in telling thus much about her mistresses, I have, for the time being, lost sight of Elizabeth Hand. Left to herself, the girl stood for a minute or two looking around her in a confused manner, then, rousing her faculties, began mechanically to obey the order with which her mis tress had quitted the kitchen, and to wash up the tea-things. She did it in a fashion that, if seen, would have made Miss Leaf thankful the ware was only the common set, and not the cherished china belonging to former days : still she did it, noisily it is true, but actively, as if her heart were in her work. Then she took a candle, and peered about her new domains. These were small enough, at least they would have seemed so to other eyes than Elizabeth's ; for, until the school-rcom and box-closet above had been kindly added by the landlord, who would have done anything to show his respect for the Misses Leaf, it had been merely a six-roomed cottage — parlour, kitchen, back-kitchen, and three upper chambers.

It was a very cosy house notwithstanding, and it seemed to Elizabeth's eyes a perfect palace. Por several minutes more she stood and contemplated her kitchen with the fire shining on the round oaken stand in the centre, and the large wooden-bottomed chairs, and the loud ticking clock with its tall case, the inside of which, with its pendulum and weights, had been a perpetual mystery and delight, first to Hilary's and then to Ascott's childhood. Then there was the sofa, large and ugly, but oh ! so comfort able, with its faded, flowered chintz, washed and worn for certainly twenty years. And over all, Elizabeth's keen ob servation was attracted by a queer machine, apparently made of thin rope and bits of wood, which hung up to the hooks on the ceiling, an old-fashioned baby's swing. Pinally, her eye dwelt with content on the blue and red diamond-tiled floor, so easily swept and mopped, and (only Elizabeth did not think of that, for her hard childhood had been all work and no play) so beautiful to whip tops upon !