CHAPTER XXVI. AT WINDSOR STREET.
On the first of April, nearly eight month* after her first arrival there. Miss Williams left Narbrough. All the parting*, tearful, affectionate, and, on the Vicar'f part, slightly jocular, came to an end al last ; and, laden with pretty gifts from the children, and with eatables for hei journey from Mra Manners, she left the station with a tear-stained face and sorrowful heart, and with the genuine regrets of the whole household to accompany her. IIT see thy bonny face no more, old Alsie, the fisher woman, had said to hei on her last visit to her lowly cottage, 1 till we meet together in the Kingdom. Let me see it there, dear lass, as kind and pure as now ;' and, coming near to her, the old woman pressed her withered and tremblinsr lips against her forehead, and blesKed. her, and bid her farewell. IMy little law died in thy arms,' she said, 'and thy good deeds shall not perish :' and as Miss Williams went on her lonely journey to Oldoaatle, poor Abie's blessing recurred to her mind, giving her heart some kind of vagne comfort and hope. It was about seven in the evening when she reached Oldcastle; and having I collected her luggage, she took a cab and drove to Windsor Street, where she was expected, as she had written to inform Mrs Mounsey by what train she would arrive. But she found no kindly hostess waiting to receive her. The hall door was opened by a very smart maid, who immediately said — 'Oh; you'll be the new governess? Cabby, bring in her boxes ;' and as Miss Williams stood waiting, purse in hand, to pay her fare, Bhe heard witticisms exchanged between the cabman and the maid-servant on the size and quantity of her luggage. ' What, another !' said the maid, with a giggle : then she turned round and addressed Miss "Williams: "Oh, miss,' "he said, ' mistress desired me to say you had to go up to the schoolroom when you came; the children are at a juvenile party, but will be hack by eight, and you're to see them to bed.' • Is Mrs Mbunsey at home ?' asked Miss Williams. •Master and she are out dining, 1 replied the girl, pertly ; ( and how I'm to carry all them boxes up to th* attic I'm sure I don't know ; I'll have to get cook to help.' ' But I don't want them taken to the attic — I want them taken to my room. I cannot do without them,' said Mias Williams. ' Well, but your room is to be the big attic,' answered the maid. 'Indeed, we've had a fine fuss shifting. Cook and I slept there, and now we're to go iuto the back one, and you're to have the front. It's all ready ; but however we're to get all your big boxes up them narrow stairs, I can't guess.' « I can hire a man to do it, if you like ; Here ia a shilling to give him.' ' Oh, mi"<p, there is no occasion for that, faid the giri, somewhat ashamed of herself. 'Cook nnd I, I daresay, can manage. Would you like to come up to the schoolroom now ?' It was a bare, cold, comfortless room, looking out into the back yard and the stables, and was furnished with all the shabby old furniture which Mounsey had inherited from his father, the doctor, and which had been in his possession some •ixty years before he had bequeathed it to his rising son. ' The firo's bad,' said the maid, giving the cold .grate a poke— and indeed it was, for it was out; 'but I'll fetch up a bit stick, nnd it'll' soon burn up again, for it's cold still; though indeed mistress says this month the fire ought to be put out.' llt is very cold,' said Amy Williams shivering. - 'Would you like a cup of tea?' asked the housemaid, looking at the slight fisrure before her with somo kindness ; yon seemed so tired like.' ' I am very tired and would be glad of some tea and afire.' • Well I'll just carry a bit out of the kitchen. Mistress would be in a fine tantrum if be she knew— filling the hou«e with smoke and filth, she aays ; and she's out, more'd the comfort, so I'll run down, and carry up a bit of live ooal.' The houbsmaid whs as good an her word, and in holf-ao-hour Miss Williams was sittjng by a tolerable fire, and drinking sonic tolerable tea ; but for all that, how miserable she felt. She saw what kind of treatment she must expect from this cold reception ; saw the lon^ weary days she would spend in this dull room ; but she might see George, and as that sweet thought stole into her heart she smiled, and tried to make the best of her two tired, cross little pupils, who shortly afterwards arrived from their juvenile party — Johnny being exceedingly sick with having over-eaten himself at supper. In vain they endeavoured to induce him to go to bed ; he would not till mamma oame, he said, and slapped Louey when that young lady tried to coerce him, who slapped back, and then both rolled on the floor fighting and crying. • Did you ever see two such P' said the housemaid, who had been standing for the last quarter of an hour trying to persuade Johnny to go to bed. ' Mistress just completely spoils them; that's the truth — I'm sure, Miss, you'll have your hands full between them.' • I tell mamma you say she spoils m, Jane,' said Louey, rising and drying her eyes ; I'll tell her how you talk.' •Just do—and my blearing on you, that's all ! Come you to bed Mis* Louey, and we'll leave that bad boy, and the black man will come and take him •way.' 'Come upon my knee Johnny, 1 said Williams, making an effort to lift the great, heavy boy from the floor. Bat he only screamed, louder -when she touched him, so they were compelled to leave him, and he finally fell asleep where he wns, and was carried off in that condition by Jane, who declared to Miss Williams ' sho was sick and weary of it all. 1 ' Indeed, I gave up the mistress after Miss Laura left, miss,' went on the girl ; *for, as I told her, I wasn't hired to bo ohild's-maid and honse-maid too; but she said you were coming, so I just stayed on — and I wish you joy of them, 1 do they're the bothersomest brats I ever came across.' It was a pleasant prospect, and Miss Williams sat enjoying it for the next two hours alone, and then she heard the matter and mistress of the establishment arrire. Presently a rmtlo of »Uk gar.
ments was board on the stairs, and the door oppned and Mrs Mounsey, handsome and gracious, came in to welcome her new inmate. 1 Well, you huve arrived, I nee, Mi"n Williams,' she said, with a slight bow, 1 and Jane tells me my little boy has boe» very unwell since ho came in. I hope you have seen about him ? Have you been up to look at him lately ?' { I did not know even where to look, Mrs Mounsey. The bervant put him to bed.' ' O — well, in future I expect, of course, that you will ; and you will hear them their prayers, I hope, Miss Williams ; and they each have a bath. I think baths are very conductive to health, and dear little Johnny has not a xtrun? stomnch ; it is oasily upset, and I shall expect you to be very careful about him.' •Yes. 'How did you leave Mrs Manners' family ? They are all well, I hope ?' •Yea, thank you.' ' Well, I shall not detain you, as it i« Hte ; we have had a dinner party at our friend, Mr Peel's, of . Newforth Hall. What a delightful place he has — such luxury ; what a thing it if to be rich — there's nothing like it. 1 It saves one from much sorrow, at any rate,' sighed the poor governess. * Of course, one ought to be satisfied to occupy the position in which a wise Providence has placed as,' said Mrs Mounsey, who did not like the tone of Miss Williams' s remarks. ' I think nothing shows a weak mind more than that foolish habit of repining the reward of a life of successful industry, and as I tell Mr Mouusey, the style be lives in makes me feel a little envious— not of course, that I have not every comfort ; but it's such a beautiful place, and the countrypeople are quite beginning to notica him.' 'Indeed!' * Oh, yes ; but he like* our little quiet dinners better than anything el«e. He is so fond of the children. He bought louey a most beautiful rocking-horse the other day — paid three guinoas for it ; but then, of course, money is no objeot to him ; yes, I quite envy Mr Peel ; but I must not stand talking here. I will just peep in at the children, and then go to bed, for I feel a little tired. Good-night, Miss Williams, we will arrange about your duties and lessons in th° morning ;* and once more bowinur, Mrs Mounsey swept her handsome self and her handsome dress out of tho room. The next inoniii.s? she did not look so well. She was too sharp-looking*. Sharpfeatured, and slightly (angular in figure, and with a dissatisfied sharp expression, contracting a face which probably in her youth had not worn it, but which gradually growing stronger, as all expressions .arising from any leading characteristic will . She was a selfish woman, and therefore not a happy one ; a vain one, and therefore being continually annoyed, for she liked not to hear others praisedtfor looks, or wit, or riches, or any good thing under the sun. She was jealous of her handsome sister, yet conscious that the wealthy marriage which she would probably form with Mr Peel would be an advantage to herself. S'ie grudged Laura her dress and her beauty, as she did that of all prettier women, yet she felt both were necessary to procure her this position ; and now, while Miss Williams was standing looking at her perhaps somewhat curiously, when she en me into the schoolroom soon after breakfast, having taken that meal in her own room, she was examining her new governess with surprise, and also with vexatian, for she had never noticed before that bhe was exceedingly pretty. This was easily acconntetl for, as the day when Miss Williams first called at Windsor-street to apply for her situation had been a bitterly cold oue, and the poor governess was delicate and naturally depressed, and therefore by no means looking her best. But now, as she stood wich the full morning light falling on her fair, almost lovely face, and abundant and well-dressed hair, Mrs Mounsey was struck with the extreme unsuitability of her appearance, and also with the handsome materials of her costume ; for during her brief married life Captain Clayton had lavished on her the most expensive dress and ornaments, some of which she was still wearing, and which Mrs Moiiusey (aa, Adelaide Manners had done before her) was now mentally condemning as highly improper for a governess. ' ' ' Were your friends in good otrcum- ' stances previous to your going out, in the world, Miss Williams?' asked she; for delicacy of feeling was not one of Mrs Mounseys attributes. . ' How do yon moan ?' replied Miss Williams, blushing scarlet. — .'.What, may la»k,-W*» -your lather ?' said Mrs Mounsey, 'He'wai-^44 and-then^ahe stopped. She was going to* say' he was a solicitor ; but' she suddenly 'remembered' that Mr Mounsey was one also, and that through any law-list her false name might be discovered ;so hesitating and confused, she faltered out, 'He— he was a gentleman.' ' Do yon mean he had no employment ?' inquired Mrs Mounsey, fixing her sharp, grey eyes on the blushing face before her. * Very extraordinary, that's all I can say. Where, may I ask, did thU gentleman live?' ' 1 Mrs Mounsey,' said Miss Williams, recovering' front, her confusion at the extreme rudeness of her* interrogator, •my father was a gentleman, who became unfortunate in his circumstances, and any other question you wish to ask I had better refer you to Mrs Mannners, or to my other referee, Mrs Ross, who is the wife of Colonel Ross.' ' Oh, did you reside in a Colonel Ross's family, then 1' - ' Yes, for some time, bnt only as a friend. But about the children's lessons? Do you wish Louisa to be t«ught French; •he tells me she has not commenced ?' ' Yes,' answered Mrs Mounsey, slowly. She could not well go on with her questions after this ; but she felt very much aggrieved. ' I do not think Miss Williams is satisfactory at all, Mr Mounsey— not at all,' was her verdict to her husband, when sho went downstairs ; but for once Mr Monnsey did not agree with her, when be sa<v the new governess at luncheon. 'I think she seems a very lady-like person, mamma,' he said, and he was about to add—' good-looking, too ;' but for the sake of peace he checked himself in time. 1 Well, I cannot do with over-dressed young persons, and I never will,' answered Mrs Mounsey. (To be continued.) Twenty years ago hardly any butter was imported into England ; now 90 per cent, of all that is used is imported, and a great deal of it is manufactured in America. Capt. Tom Gregory, of Winchester. Term., has a unique pair of sloven. They were made by Miss Nannie Phillips, who snared a lot of rabbits, carded and spun their fur as if it were wool, and from the yarn knit the gloves. She decorated the back of each glove with tho ear of a fullgrown rabbit. Private John- Burke, who has just been discharged from the Suffolk Regiment, is supposed to have been the oldest - soldier in the British Army, having enlisted in 1847. He had six good conduct stripes, and was refuspd the seventh on the ground that six was the maximum number allowed. He had served in the Crimean and Indian mutiny campaigns, • and *tao in Chin* and Afghanistan.
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Waikato Times, Volume XXVI, Issue 2164, 22 May 1886, Page 1 (Supplement)
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2,384CHAPTER XXVI. AT WINDSOR STREET. Waikato Times, Volume XXVI, Issue 2164, 22 May 1886, Page 1 (Supplement)
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