The Road to Mandalay | Page 2

and funds. Subsequent to their retirement from the vicarage the sisters
had known straitened circumstances; in fact, had experienced the sharp
nip of real poverty; but, no matter how painful their necessities, they
contrived to keep up appearances and never withdrew from society, nor
suffered their little circle to forget that their grandfather had been an
archdeacon. In spite of anxious times and scanty funds, they clung with
loyal tenacity to certain family relics, in the shape of old silver, china
and prints, many of which were highly marketable.

In those evil days it was whispered that "the Tebbs had only one best
dress between them"--a certain rich black silk. As Miss Jane was at
least six inches taller than dumpy Miss Mitty, difficulties of length
were cunningly surmounted by an adjustable flounce. Needless to add
that on festive occasions, such as high teas, little dinners, and card
parties, the sisters never appeared together, the one "out of turn"
invariably excusing herself with toothache or a heavy cold. Although
they argued and bickered in private, and had opposing tastes in the
matter of boiling eggs and drawing tea, the Tebbs were a deeply
attached pair and presented an unbroken front to the outer world.
After several years of brave struggle, during which the wolf of want
prowled hungrily round Highfield Cottage, a substantial and
unexpected fortune, fell to the Tebbs, restored them to comfortable
independence--and to the notice of such far-sighted parents as
happened to be in quest of useful and benevolent godmothers. The
sisters made but little change in their style of living; they now owned
handsome furs, a separate wardrobe, and not a few rich silks; they still
continued to occupy the cottage, and retained in their service a certain
tyrannical treasure, widely known and feared as "the Tebbs's Eliza."
Although an admirable and trustworthy servant, Eliza ruled the
household, permitted no late hours, no breakfasts in bed, no
unnecessary fires, no unnecessary, guests. Her mistresses were obliged
to do a considerable amount of household work; for instance, they
made their beds and Miss Tebbs dusted the china; she also had the
charge of the linen and store-room; whilst Miss Jane was responsible
for the silver, the lamps, and, on Eliza's day out, "the door."
When the door was answered by Eliza in person, her manner was so
fierce and intimidating that nervous callers complained that the Tebbs'
maid looked as if she was ready to fly at, and bite them! Ill-natured
tongues declared that the tyrant was tolerated merely because she was a
channel for the most far-reaching, fresh and sensational gossip. But let
us hope that this was a malignant libel!
Highfield Cottage was old, two-storied and solid; elsewhere than
Tadpool it might have ventured to pose as a villa residence, but

Tadpool, a fine, sixteenth century, self-respecting and historical village,
tolerated no villas. If such abodes ventured to arise, they sprouted
timidly in the fields beyond its boundaries. Moreover, the age and
history of Highfield Cottage were too widely known for any change of
name. The cottage was connected with the high road by a prim little
garden and a red-tiled footpath; eight long narrow windows
commanded a satisfactory outlook--including Littlecote Hall--a square
white mansion withdrawn in dignified retirement behind elms and
beeches, in age the contemporary of its humbler vis-à-vis.
Here resided Edward Shafto, late Fellow of St. John's, Oxford, his wife
Lucilla, and his son Douglas. Ten years previously the family had
descended on Tadpool as from the skies--or as a heavy stone cast into
some quiet mill pond. No one in the neighbourhood could discover
anything about them--although Jane Tebbs's exertions in the matter
were admittedly prodigious and unwearied. The house agent proved
disappointingly vague, and could only inform her that a gentleman who
happened to hear of the place had come down from London, inspected
the house, liked its lofty, spacious rooms with their old mahogany
doors (it recalled his home), was much taken with the gardens--and
promptly signed the lease! Certainly it was an audacious step to invade
a strange neighbourhood without a social sponsor or reference.
However, the community breathed more freely when they beheld the
new tenant of "Littlecote," a middle-aged, distinguished-looking
individual; and Miss Jane discovered, or pretended to discover, that he
was one of the Shaftos of Shafton Court.
Mrs. Shafto (who looked surprisingly young to be the mother of a tall
lad of ten) had a pretty figure, quantities of lightish red hair, an
animated manner, and a pair of hard blue eyes. She was fashionably
turned out, and her hat of a remarkable shape was discussed in the
village for weeks.
The arrival of furniture vans, horses, carriages and a number of servants,
afforded unqualified interest to the Misses Tebbs; and moreover
advertised the fact that