Cousin Maude | Page 6

she would call her daughter anything which
suited him. Accordingly, when at last Maude returned to the parlor,
with her dress changed, her curls arranged, and her dimpled cheeks
shining with the suds in which they had been washed, she was prepared
to say Matilda or whatever else pleased his capricious fancy.
"Little girl," he said, extending his hand toward her, "little girl, come
here. I wish to talk with you."
But the little girl hung back, and when tier mother insisted upon her
going to the gentleman, asking if she did not like him, she answered
decidedly, "No, I don't like him, and he shan't be my pa, either!"
"Maude, daughter!" exclaimed Mrs. Remington, while Dr. Kennedy,
turning slightly pale, thought "wretch!" but said, "Matilda, come here,
won't you?"
"I aint Matilda," she answered. "I won't be Matilda--I'm Maude," and
her large black eyes flashed defiantly upon him.

It was in vain that Dr. Kennedy coaxed and Mrs. Remington threatened.
Maude had taken a dislike to the stranger, and as he persisted in calling
her Matilda, she persisted in refusing to answer, until at last, hearing
Janet pass through the hall, she ran out to her, sure of finding comfort
and sympathy there.
"I am afraid I have suffered Maude to have her own way too much, and
for the future I must be more strict with her," said Mrs. Remington
apologetically; while the doctor replied, "I think, myself, a little
wholesome discipline would not be amiss. 'Tis a maxim of mine, spare
the rod and spoil the child; but, of course, I shall not interfere in the
matter."
This last he said because he saw a shadow flit over the fair face of the
widow, who, like most indulgent mothers, did not wholly believe in
Solomon. The sight of Janet in the hall suggested a fresh subject to the
doctor's mind, and, after coughing a little, he said, "Did I understand
that your domestic was intending to join you at Laurel Hill?"
"Yes," returned Mrs. Remington, "Janet came to live with my mother
when I was a little girl no larger than Maude. Since my marriage she
has lived with me, and I would not part with her for anything."
"But do you not think two kinds of servants are apt to make trouble,
particularly if one is black and the other white?" and in the speaker's
face there was an expression which puzzled Mrs. Remington, who
could scarce refrain from crying at the thoughts of parting with Janet,
and who began to have a foretaste of the dreary homesickness which
was to wear her life away.
"I can't do without Janet," she said; "she knows all my ways, and I trust
her with everything."
"The very reason why she should not go," re turned the doctor." She
and old Hannah would quarrel at once. You would take sides with Janet,
I with Hannah, and that might produce a feeling which ought never to
exist between man and wife. No, my dear, listen to me in this matter,
and let Janet remain in Vernon. Old Hannah has been in my family a

long time. She was formerly a slave, and belonged to my uncle, who
lived in Virginia, and who, at his death, gave her to me. Of course I set
her free, for I pride myself on being a man of humanity, and since that
time she has lived with us, superintending the household entirely since
Mrs. Kennedy's death. She is very peculiar, and would never suffer
Janet to dictate, as I am sure, from what you say, she would do. So, my
dear, try and think all is for the best. You need not tell her she is not to
come, for it is a maxim of mine to avoid all unnecessary scenes, and
you can easily write it in a letter."
Poor Mrs. Remington! she knew intuitively that the matter was decided,
and was she not to be forgiven if at that moment she thought of the
grass-grown grave whose occupant had in life been only too happy
granting her slightest wish? But Harry was gone, and the man with
whom she now had to deal was an exacting, tyrannical master, to
whose will her own must ever be subservient. This, however, she did
not then understand. She knew he was not at all like Harry, but she
fancied that the difference consisted in his being so much older, graver,
and wiser than her husband had been, and so with a sigh she yielded the
point, thinking that Janet would be the greater sufferer of the two.
That evening several of her acquaintances called to see the
bridegroom-elect, whom, in Mrs. Remington's hearing, they
pronounced very fine looking and quite agreeable in manner;
compliments which tended in