Spring Days | Page 4

should I tell a lie?"
"Please, miss," said the butler as Maggie passed through the baize door, "I think it right to tell you about cook. We find it very hard to put up with her in the servants' hall. She is a very violent- tempered woman; nor can I say much for her in other respects. Last week she sold twenty pounds of dripping, and it wasn't all dripping, miss, it was for the most part butter."
"John, I really can't listen to any more stories about cook. Has the quarter-to-seven come in yet?"
"I haven't seen it pass, miss, but I saw Mr. Willy coming up the drive a minute ago."
Willy entered, and she turned to him and said: "Where have you been to, Willy?"
"Brighton. Has father come in yet?"
"No. You came by the tramcar?"
"Yes."
With shoulders set well back and toes turned out, Willy came along the passage. His manner was full of deliberation, and he carried a small brown paper parcel under his arm as if it were a sword of state. Maggie followed him up the steep and vulgarly carpeted staircase that branched into the various passages forming the upper part of the house. Willy's room was precise and grave, and there everything was held under lock and key. He put the brown paper parcel on the table; he took off his coat and laid it on the bed, heaving, at the same time, a sigh.
"Did you notice if the quarter-to-seven has been signalled?"
"Yes, but don't keep on worrying; the train is coming along the embankment."
"Then there will be a row to-night."
"Why?"
"Sally told cook to keep the dinner back; she has gone down the slonk to speak to Meason."
"Why didn't you tell cook that she must take her orders from you and no one else?"
"So I did, but Sally said I was no more mistress here than she was. I said Grace had given me charge of the house, when she could not attend to it; but Sally will listen to no one, she'll drive father out of his mind. There's no one he hates like the Measons."
"What is the matter with Grace? Where is she?"
"She's in her room, lying on the bed crying. She says she wants to die; she says that she doesn't care what becomes of her. She'll never care for another man, and father will not give his consent. What's- his-name has nothing--only a small allowance; he'll never have any more, he isn't a working man. I know father, he'll never hear of any one who is not a working man. I wish you'd speak to her."
"I've quite enough to do with my own affairs; I've had bad luck enough as it is, without running into new difficulties of my own accord."
"If she refuses Berkins, father'll never get over it. I wish you would speak to her."
"No, don't ask me. I never meddle in other people's affairs. I've had trouble enough. Now I want to dress."
When Maggie went downstairs, she found her father in the drawing-room.
"The train was a little late to-night. Has Willy come back from Brighton?"
"Yes, father."
"I've been looking over his accounts and I find he has lost nearly two thousand pounds in Bond Street, and I don't think he is doing any good with that agency in Brighton. I never approved of one or the other. I approve of nothing but legitimate city business. Shops in the West End! mere gambling. Where is Grace?"
"She's in her room."
"In her room? I suppose she hasn't left it all day? This is very terrible. I don't know what to do with you. Since your poor mother died my life has been nothing but trouble and vexation. I can't manage you, you are too strong for me. So she hasn't left her room; crying her eyes out, because I won't consent to her marrying a penniless young officer! But I will not squander my money. I made it all myself, by my own industry, and I refuse to keep young fellows in idleness."
"I don't give you any trouble, father."
"You are the best, Maggie, but you encourage your sister Sally. I hear that you, too, were seen walking with young Meason."
"It is not true, I assure you, father. I met him as I was going to the post-office. I said, 'How do you do?' and I passed on."
"Where is Sally?"
"She went out a few minutes ago."
"Didn't she know the time? She ought to be dressing for dinner. Do you know where she's gone?"
"I think she went down the slonk."
His children had inherited his straight, sharp features and his small, black, vivid eyes. Their hair was of various hues of black. Maggie's was raven black and glossy; Sally's was coarse and of a hue like black-lead; Grace's was abundant and relieved with sooty shades; Willy's hair was brown.