Esther Waters | Page 2

maybe that these ladies had been abroad with the family. She had
heard of France and Germany. Their conversation would, no doubt,
turn on such subjects. Her silence would betray her. They would ask
her what situations she had been in, and when they learned the truth she
would have to leave disgraced. She had not sufficient money to pay for
a ticket to London. But what excuse could she give to Lady Elwin, who
had rescued her from Mrs. Dunbar and got her the place of
kitchen-maid at Woodview? She must not go back. Her father would
curse her, and perhaps beat her mother and her too. Ah! he would not

dare to strike her again, and the girl's face flushed with shameful
remembrance. And her little brothers and sisters would cry if she came
back. They had little enough to eat as it was. Of course she must not go
back. How silly of her to think of such a thing!
She smiled, and her face became as bright as the month: it was the first
day of June. Still she would be glad when the first week was over. If
she had only a dress to wear in the afternoons! The old yellow thing on
her back would never do. But one of her cotton prints was pretty fresh;
she must get a bit of red ribbon--that would make a difference. She had
heard that the housemaids in places like Woodview always changed
their dresses twice a day, and on Sundays went out in silk mantles and
hats in the newest fashion. As for the lady's-maid, she of course had all
her mistress's clothes, and walked with the butler. What would such
people think of a little girl like her! Her heart sank at the thought, and
she sighed, anticipating much bitterness and disappointment. Even
when her first quarter's wages came due she would hardly be able to
buy herself a dress: they would want the money at home. Her quarter's
wages! A month's wages most like, for she'd never be able to keep the
place. No doubt all those fields belonged to the Squire, and those great
trees too; they must be fine folk, quite as fine as Lady Elwin--finer, for
she lived in a house like those near the station.
On both sides of the straight road there were tall hedges, and the
nursemaids lay in the wide shadows on the rich summer grass, their
perambulators at a little distance. The hum of the town died out of the
ear, and the girl continued to imagine the future she was about to enter
on with increasing distinctness. Looking across the fields she could see
two houses, one in grey stone, the other in red brick with a gable
covered with ivy; and between them, lost in the north, the spire of a
church. On questioning a passer-by she learnt that the first house was
the Rectory, the second was Woodview Lodge. If that was the lodge,
what must the house be?
Two hundred yards further on the road branched, passing on either side
of a triangular clump of trees, entering the sea road; and under the
leaves the air was green and pleasant, and the lungs of the jaded town
girl drew in a deep breath of health. Behind the plantation she found a
large white-painted wooden gate. It opened into a handsome avenue,
and the gatekeeper told her to keep straight on, and to turn to the left

when she got to the top. She had never seen anything like it before, and
stopped to admire the uncouth arms of elms, like rafters above the
roadway; pink clouds showed through, and the monotonous dove
seemed the very heart of the silence.
Her doubts returned; she never would be able to keep the place. The
avenue turned a little, and she came suddenly upon a young man
leaning over the paling, smoking his pipe.
"Please sir, is this the way to Woodview?"
"Yes, right up through the stables, round to the left." Then, noticing the
sturdily-built figure, yet graceful in its sturdiness, and the bright cheeks,
he said, "You look pretty well done; that bundle is a heavy one, let me
hold it for you."
"I am a bit tired," she said, leaning the bundle on the paling. "They told
me at the station that the donkey-cart would bring up my box later on."
"Ah, then you are the new kitchen-maid? What's your name?"
"Esther Waters."
"My mother's the cook here; you'll have to mind your p's and q's or else
you'll be dropped on. The devil of a temper while it lasts, but not a bad
sort if you don't put her out."
"Are you in service here?"
"No, but I hope to be afore long.