Paste Jewels | Page 6

Thaddeus, he spoke his mind
very plainly--to Liscomb. Bessie never knew what he said, nor did any
of the servants; but he said it to Liscomb, and, as Liscomb remarked

later, he seemed like somebody else altogether while speaking, he was
so fierce and determined about it all. That night a telegram came from
Liscomb, saying that he had been unexpectedly delayed, and that, as
there were several matters requiring his attention at his own home, he
thought he would not be up again until Sunday.
Bessie was relieved, and Thaddeus was mad.
"We MUST have those rules," he said.
And so they were brought out. Ellen received them with stolid
indifference; Jane with indignation, if the slamming of doors in various
parts of the house that day betokened anything. Norah accepted them
without a murmur. It made no difference to Norah on what day she
swept the parlor, nor did she seem to care very much because her "days
at home" were shifted, so that her day out was Friday instead of
Thursday.
"Has Ellen said anything about the rules, my dear?" asked Thaddeus, a
week or two later.
"Not a word," returned Bessie.
"Has she 'looked' anything?"
"Volumes," Bessie answered.
"Does she take exception to any of them?"
"No," said Bessie, "and I've discovered why, too. She hasn't read
them."
Thaddeus was silent for a minute. Then be said, quite firmly for him,
"She must read them."
"MUST is a strong word, Teddy," Bessie replied, "particularly since
Ellen can't read."
"Then you ought to read them to her."

"That's what I think," Bessie answered, amiably. "I'm going to do it
very soon--day after to-morrow, I guess."
"What has Jane said?" asked Thaddeus, biting his lip.
Bessie colored. Jane had expressed herself with considerable force, and
Bessie had been a little afraid to tell Thaddeus what she had said and
done.
"Oh, nothing much," she answered. "She--she said she'd never wore
caps like a common servant, and wasn't going to begin now; and then
she didn't like having to clean the silver on Saturday afternoons,
because the silver-powder got into her finger-nails; and that really is
too bad, Teddy, because Saturday night is the night her friends come to
call, and silver-powder is awfully hard to get out of your nails, you
know; and, of course, a girl wants to appear neat and clean when she
has callers."
"Of course," said Thaddeus. "And I judge by the appearance of the
brass fenders that she doesn't like to polish them up on Wednesday
because it gives her a backache on Thursday, which is her day out."
Bessie's eyes took on their watery aspect again.
"Do the fenders look so very badly, Ted?" she asked.
"They're atrocious," said Thaddeus.
"I'm sorry, dear; but I did my best. I polished them myself this
afternoon; Jane had to go to a funeral."
"Oh, my!" cried Thaddeus. "This subject's too much for me. Let's go
out--somewhere, anywhere--to a concert. Music hath its charms to
soothe a savage breast, and my breast is simply the very essence of
wildness to-night. Put on your things, Bess, and hurry, or I'll suffocate."
Bessie did as she was told, and before ten o'clock the happy pair had
forgotten their woes, nor do I think they would have remembered them

again that night had they not found on their return home that they were
locked out.
At this even the too amiable Bessie was angry--very angry--unjustly, as
it turned out afterwards.
"They weren't to blame, after all," she explained to Thaddeus, when he
came home the next night. "I spoke to them about it, and they all
thought we'd spend the night with your mother and father at the
Oxford."
"They're a thoughtful lot," said Thaddeus.
And so time passed. The "treasures" did as they pleased; the dubious
auburn-haired Norah continued her aggravating efficiency. Bessie's
days were spent in anticipation of an interview of an unpleasant nature
with Jane or Ellen "to-morrow." Thaddeus's former smile grew less
perpetual--that is, it was always visible when Bessie was before him,
but when Bessie was elsewhere, so also was the token of Thaddeus's
amiability. He chafed under the tyranny, but it never occurred to him
but once that it would be well for him to interview Ellen and Jane; and
then, summoning them fiercely, he addressed them mildly, ended the
audience with a smile, and felt himself beneath their sway more than
ever.
Then something happened. A day came and went, and the morrow
thereof found Thaddeus dethroned from even his nominal position of
head of the house. There was a young Thaddeus, an eight-pound
Thaddeus, a round, red-cheeked, bald-headed Thaddeus that looked
more like the Thaddeus of old than Thaddeus did himself; and then, at a
period in which man feels himself the least