The Secret Passage | Page 7

run round by the
veranda and so get to the back where the kitchen is. But you're one of
the new class of servants, Miss Grant, 'aughty and upsetting."
"I know my place," said Susan, taking off her hat.
"And I know mine," said Emily Pill, "me being cook and consequently
the mistress of this servants' 'all. An' I'm an old-fashioned servant
myself, plain in my 'abits and dress." This with a disparaging look at
the rather smart costume of the newly-arrived housemaid. "I don't 'old
with cockes feathers and fal-de-dals on 'umble folk myself, not but
what I could afford 'em if I liked, being of saving 'abits and a receiver
of good wages. But I'm a friendly pusson and not 'ard on a good-lookin'

gal, not that you are what I call 'andsome."
Susan seated beside the table, looked weary and forlorn, and the
good-natured heart of the cook was touched, especially when Susan
requested her to refrain from the stiff name of Miss Grant.
"You an' me will be good friends, I've no doubt," said Emily, "an' you
can call me Mrs. Pill, that being the name of my late 'usband, who died
of gin in excess. The other servants is housemaid and page, though to
be sure he's more of a man-of-all-work, being forty if he's a day, and
likewise coachman, when he drives out Miss Loach in her donkey
carriage. Thomas is his name, my love." The cook was rapidly
becoming more and more friendly, "and the housemaid is called
Geraldine, for which 'eaven forgives her parents, she bein' spotty and
un'ealthy and by no means a Bow-Bell's 'eroine, which 'er name makes
you think of. But there's a dear, I'm talking brilliant, when you're dying
for a cup of tea, and need to get your box unpacked, by which I mean
that I sees the porter with the barrer."
The newly-arrived parlor-maid was pleased by this friendly if
ungrammatical reception, and thought she would like the cook in spite
of her somewhat tiresome tongue. For the next hour she was unpacking
her box and arranging a pleasant little room at the back. She shared this
with the spotty Geraldine, who seemed to be a good-natured girl.
Apparently Miss Loach looked after her servants and made them
comfortable. Thomas proved to be amiable if somewhat stupid, and
welcomed Susan to tea affably but with sheepish looks. As the servants
seemed pleasant, the house comfortable, and as the salary was excellent,
Susan concluded that she had -- as the saying is -- fallen on her feet.
The quartette had tea in the servants' hall, and there was plenty of
well-cooked if plain victuals. Miss Loach dined at half-past six and
Susan assumed her dress and cap. She laid the table in a handsome
dining-room, equally as garish in color as the apartment below. The
table appointments were elegant, and Mrs. Pill served a nice little meal
to which Miss Loach did full justice. She wore the same purple dress,
but with the addition of more jewellery. Her sharp eyes followed Susan
about the room as she waited, and at the end of the dinner she made her

first observation. "You know your work I see," she said. "I hope you
will be happy here!"
"I think I will, ma'am," said Susan, with a faint sigh.
"You have had trouble?" asked Miss Loach quickly.
"Yes, ma'am!"
"You must tell me about it to-morrow," said the old lady rising. "I like
to gain the confidence of my servants. Now bring my coffee to the
room below. At eight, three people will arrive -- a lady and two
gentlemen. You will show them into the sitting-room and put out the
card-table. Then you can go to the kitchen and wait till I ring. Be sure
you don't come till I do ring," and Miss Loach emphasized this last
order with a flash of her brilliant eyes.
Susan took the coffee to the sitting-room in the basement and then
cleared the table. Shortly before eight o'clock there was a ring at the
front door. She opened it to a tall lady, with gray hair, who leaned on
an ebony cane. With her were two men, one a rather rough
foolish-looking fellow, and the other tall, dark, and well-dressed in an
evening suit. A carriage was just driving away from the gate. As the tall
lady entered, a breath of strong perfume saluted Susan's nostrils. The
girl started and peered into the visitor's face. When she returned to the
kitchen her own was as white as chalk.
CHAPTER II
THE CRIME
The kitchen was rather spacious, and as neat and clean as the busy
hands of Mrs. Pill could make it. An excellent range polished to excess
occupied one end of the room;