Fighting the Flames | Page 3

some things. What things are you careless in?"
"La! sir--"
"You must not say `La!' my girl," interrupted Mr Auberly with a frown,
"nor use exclamations of any kind in my presence; what are the `some
things' referred to?"
"Sure I don't know, sir," said the abashed Matty. "I s'pose there's
a-many things I ain't very good at; but, please, sir, I don't mean to do
nothin' wrong, sir, I don't indeed; an' I'll try to serve you well, sir, if it
wor only to plaaze my missis, as I'm leavin' against my will, for I love
my--"
"There, that will do," said Mr Auberly somewhat sternly, as the girl
appeared to be getting excited.
"Ring that bell; now, go downstairs and Hopkins will introduce you to
my housekeeper, who will explain your duties to you."
Hopkins entered and solemnly marched Martha Merryon to the regions
below.
Mr Auberly locked away his papers, pulled out his watch, wound it up,

and then, lighting a bedroom candle, proceeded with much gravity
upstairs.
He was a very stately-looking man, and strikingly dignified as he
walked upstairs to his bedroom--slowly and deliberately, as though he
were marching at his own funeral to the tune of something even deader
than the "Dead March in Saul."
It is almost a violation of propriety to think of Mr Auberly doing such a
very undignified thing as "going to bed!" Yet truth requires us to tell
that he did it; that he undressed himself as other mortals do; that he
clothed himself in the wonted ghostly garment; and that, when his head
was last seen--in the act of closing the curtains around him-- there was
a conical white cap on it, tied with a string below the chin, and
ornamented on the top with a little tassel, which waggled as though it
were bidding a triumphant and final adieu to human dignity!
Half an hour later, Mrs Rose, the housekeeper, a matronly,
good-looking woman, with very red cheeks, was busy in the study
explaining to Matty Merryon her duties. She had already shown her all
over the house, and was now at the concluding lesson.
"Look here now, Merryon," began the housekeeper.
"Oh, please don't call me Merryon--I ain't used to it. Call me Matty, do
now!"
"Very well, Matty," continued Mrs Rose, with a smile, "I've no
objection; you Irish are a strange race! Now, look here. This is master's
study, and mind, he's very partikler, dreadful partikler."
She paused and looked at her pupil, as if desirous of impressing this
point deeply on her memory.
"He don't like his papers or books touched; not even dusted! So you'll
be careful not to dust 'em, nor to touch 'em even so much as with your
little finger, for he likes to find 'em in the mornin' just as he left 'em at
night."

"Yes, Mrs Rose," said Matty, who was evidently giving up her whole
soul to the instruction that was being imparted.
"Now," continued the housekeeper, "the arranging of this room will be
your last piece of work at night. You'll just come in, rake out the grate,
carry off the ashes, lay the noo fire, put the matches handy on the
chimney-piece, look round to see that all's right, and then turn off the
gas. The master is a early riser, and lights the fire his-self of a mornin'."
"Yes, 'm," said Matty, with a courtesy.
"Now, go and do it," said Mrs Rose, "that I may see you understand it.
Begin with the grate an' the ashes."
Matty, who was in truth an experienced maid-of-all-work, began with
alacrity to discharge the duties of her new station. She carried off the
ashes, and returned with the materials for next day's fire in a shovel.
Here she gave a slight indication of her so-called carelessness
(awkwardness would have been more appropriate) by letting two or
three pieces of stick and a bit of coal fall on the carpet, in her passage
across the room.
"Be careful, Matty," said Mrs Rose gently. "It's all owin' to haste. Take
your time, an' you won't do such things."
Matty apologised, picked up the materials, and laid the fire. Then she
took her apron and approached the writing-table, evidently with the
intention of taking the dust off the corners, but not by any means
intending to touch the books or papers.
"Stop!" cried Mrs Rose sternly.
Matty stopped with a guilty look.
"Not a touch," said Mrs Rose.
"Not even the edges, nor the legs?" inquired the pupil.
"Neither edges nor legs," said the instructor.

"Sure it could do no harm."
"Matty," said Mrs Rose solemnly, "the great thing that your
countrywomen have to learn is obedience."
"Thank 'ee, 'm," said Matty, who, being overawed by the housekeeper's
solemnity, felt confused, and