Chapter II: Evil Communications

KATE fully intended to keep her promise, and would have done so if only Fanny had been out of the way. She really felt sorry that she had grieved Mrs. Bateson, whose great kindness could not be put out of her mind, and she tried, by extra diligence and attention to her duties, to make what amends she could for her disrespect and disobedience.

Mrs. Bateson did look specially for Kate in the servants' pew on the next Sunday, and saw the girl in her place and seemingly joining with heart and voice in worship. She was very glad of this. Though a lady of high position and large means, she was a true mother. The thought of the temptations that beset the young made her watch the daughters of poorer mothers with genuine interest, and she rejoiced in their well-doing as a parent and a Christian.

Coming out of church, she gave Kate a pleasant smile and a word of encouragement, which, for the moment, made the girl more sorry for her past fault and still more anxious to make amends. But her battle was not over nor her victory so easily won.

All through the following week she had to bear many a jeer and taunt from Fanny Ellis, who was determined, as she said within herself, to "pay Mrs. Bateson out," by unsettling her younger housemaid.

"Poor little girl! So you have eaten humble pie, and begged Missus's pardon, and promised never to be naughty any more. You like to be in leading-strings and to do just as you are bid, whether you are in the house or out of it."

"It wasn't right of me to go with you instead of to church," said Kate, stoutly. "I don't see that there is any disgrace in owning one has done wrong, if one's conscience tells that we have."

"Oh dear no! But I suppose it is quite right of Mrs. Bateson to expect that we, grown-up women, should be ordered about like little children. I'm twenty-five."

"I am not, though," replied Kate.

"You are twenty and a grown-up woman, and you are worth three pounds a year more wages than she gives you."

"I don't know that. I never tried for another place, and I have no desire to change. Mrs. Bateson has been very kind to me," replied Kate.

"And to herself, too. She gets three-ha'p'orth of work for every penny she pays you, I know."

"No, indeed you are wrong. My wages may not be high, but Mrs. Bateson gave me far more than I earned when I first came," said the girl, earnestly.

"Then you need thank her for nothing, since she is taking it back again out of what you ought to have now," retorted Fanny.

The girl was so ready with her answers, so quick-witted and bold in her attacks, that she often silenced Kate's tongue, though she could not convince her that what she said was right. Kate often heartily wished herself out of Fanny's way, but that could not be, though she counted the days that must pass before she would leave, and rejoiced that the month was nearly at an end.

Mrs. Bateson had no idea of what was going on. Fanny did her work better than ever, with a double motive. She was determined her mistress should have no excuse for complaint on that score, and that she should give her a first-class character for efficiency—all that most inquirers would care about.

"And I mean to let her see that I am better worth keeping than some of her demure sort, though I won't be driven to spend my Sundays as my mistress chooses for the best place going."

Kate could not and would not tell what she had to put up with, so as the two were much thrown together during working hours, she had to listen in spite of herself.

By degrees Fanny's words made an impression. Kate insisted that, if you undertook a place on certain conditions, these should be observed.

"You knew the rules when you came, and ought to abide by them."

"Well, I am going because they are too hard and strict for me. You will say the same before long."

Fanny was right. The month was not out, yet Kate had begun to think that it was a shame to bind grown-up people by such rules, and in her heart to rebel against them and to wish them changed.

It was on the last Sunday, and Fanny was to leave on the following Wednesday morning. She was in high spirits, having secured a promising situation, and fully determined to show off her independence to the end.

Some little thing had happened between Kate and the cook, an old and valued servant, who had been a true friend to the young one. She guessed that Fanny meant mischief, and warned the younger girl against being carried away by bad advice.

"You have had a good home and a kind mistress, don't throw them away, Kate," she said. "Remember what you were when you came here first, with hardly a shoe to your foot, or a gown to your back, and don't be ungrateful."

"I had good shoes and gowns too," retorted Kate, angrily.

"Well, yes, you had, but the mistress bought for you every decent bit of clothing you had, I know that," replied cook.

"I paid her back, out of my wages, the money laid down to buy the clothes with, so you need not fling that in my face," said Kate, angrily. She did not like those old days to be talked about, now that she was so much better off.

Cook had tried to speak a word in season, and she was full of good will for Kate. But, unfortunately, she said the wrong words, and did harm where she meant to do good. She had not her mistress's wisdom or forbearance in dealing with the young, and as Kate said, "She flung my poverty in my face, and I didn't like it."

"I should wonder if you did," replied Fanny; "if I were you, I would not stop in a place where either mistress or servant could do it by me."

Cook had roused Kate's temper instead of awakening afresh her gratitude by reminding her of past favours. Fanny resolved that the fire thus kindled should not go out for want of stirring, and said further irritating things with such success that Kate went to bed that night in a thoroughly rebellious and discontented spirit.

She shed many a bitter tear at the thought of having been taunted with being too poor to buy her own clothes when she came to the place, and felt humiliated and disgraced.

"I should like to get right away from them all, and I do not care about staying in a place where I may be talked to again as cook spoke last night," she said to herself.

Morning—Fanny's last Sunday morning,—found her in no better spirit, and she was more than ready to yield when tempted to disobey once again, though she made a show of refusing at first, and said, "Mrs. Bateson is particular, but it is for our good. It is no benefit to her."

She ended by falling in with Fanny's proposal, and spent the Sunday morning without going near church.

Mrs. Bateson said nothing to the girl until Monday, but Kate saw a sorrowful expression on her mistress's kind face which spoke to her heart more loudly than words would have done.

She had felt very defiant and independent when she came in from her walk with Fanny, but as the quiet hours passed, she realised the position in which she had placed herself. She would have a night to sleep on it before anything could be said, but there was little rest for Kate. She heard the clock strike hour after hour, as she lay awake thinking of her mistress's kindness, of the home she had enjoyed, the regular habits, the plentiful food, the quiet Sabbaths.

She seemed compelled to think of them again and again, and she knew that her present health and strength were largely owing to all these advantages.

She remembered too how, during a rather severe illness she had in her second year of service, she had been nursed and cared for, attended by the family doctor at her master's cost, and nourished with all the little dainties that could tempt her appetite when she was able to take food again. She knew that in most cases a servant who breaks down at her post is sent away, perhaps to a poor home or lodgings, to recover as best she may.

Kate had cried out of vexation and wounded pride the night before. She wept yet more bitterly at the thought of her own ingratitude, and of the pain which the knowledge of it would cause her mother.

"What a poor-spirited thing you are!" said Fanny, as she saw Kate's red eyelids and pale face. "You have been fretting half the night, and what for?"

"I shall lose my place, and I know I deserve to be sent away. I promised, and I have broken my word. It is not pleasant to think of that, to say nothing of my mistress. She has been good to me and my mother."

"Well, you are a goose!" replied Fanny, contemptuously. "And you are like a weathercock, going round from one side to the other. I never know where to have you. If you do lose your place, there are plenty of better ones to be had for looking after, and to have stayed here three years is character enough for anybody. Give notice yourself as I did, and then Mrs. Bateson will see how much you care for her place. You need not tell your mother directly. Let her know when you have another situation to go to."

But Kate felt that she had already followed Fanny's advice once too often. No fear of her going the length proposed. She was not kept long in suspense; directly after breakfast she was summoned to her mistress's room.

"You will know why I have sent for you, Kate. I have never broken my word when I have promised you anything, and I cannot break it now. I have no need to explain why I am parting with you. You know, without any word from me, that you will have to leave on this day month. And you must feel that no mistress could possibly keep a girl who repeatedly set her orders at defiance, and broke the rules of the household," said Mrs. Bateson.

Kate had indeed known what was coming, and she bitterly regretted the conduct which had brought it upon her. She dared not lift an appealing look to the face of her kind mistress, and felt unable to utter a word in her defence, so stood there with downcast eyes, in which tears were already rising.

What could she say? Only confess her ingratitude and folly, and plead that she had listened to evil counsel, and acted contrary to her better judgment.

She would gladly have said this if she had felt the least hope that she would be forgiven. But she did not.

And, after waiting for a few moments in silence, Mrs. Bateson said, "You can leave the room, Kate; I have nothing further to say to you at present."

The girl turned away to hide the tears which were now streaming down her cheeks, and left her mistress's presence without a word. If she had but looked up, and noted the expression of pity and sorrow in Mrs. Bateson's kind face, she would surely have tried to tell what was in her heart. But she did not; and as she walked slowly away, she left the lady with the impression that the girl, for whom she had done so much, was ungrateful as well as wilfully disobedient.

Fanny was not far off. Through that day and the next she strove, after her fashion, to cheer Kate, by repeating all her old arguments against being kept in leading-strings and treated like babies. But her words produced no sense of comfort, for whilst she could not help hearing them, Kate was looking back on the past three years of comfort, plenty, and peace in that fair home, and of the kindness shown her under its roof, and saying to herself, "But for listening to you, I might be looking forward to more such happy years. As it is, I must soon turn my back on all here, and they will feel that I have behaved so badly."

Fanny departed in high spirits on the Wednesday morning, and despite the evil effects of her companionship, Kate felt more unhappy still when she was gone. She had offended her old friend the cook, by resenting her well-meant advice, so very few words now passed between them.

"Kate may take her own way for me," said cook. "She's only a bit of a girl of twenty, and I am twice her age, and might be her mother. And I've tried to act like one to her, and helped her in many a way, because I thought she was willing to be taught and wanted to do right. But now she has set herself up to go straight against the mistress's orders and rules, and turned huffy with me, because I just put her in mind what had been done for her and advised her for her good; she may take her own way for me. I shall not interfere again, come what may. I'll be civil, and speak when I have house matters to speak about, but that shall be all. If Kate wants to be friends, it is for her to say so, not me. I am not going to eat humble pie, for I have only tried to do her good—the ungrateful thing!"

Fanny's last words were, "Cheer up, Kate, and don't go about looking miserable. I will soon get you a better place, and better wages too, never fear."

Even this promise did not take the weight from Kate's mind. Happily for the girl, conscience was not silenced. Its voice made itself heard, and rendered her very unhappy. She would have gladly done anything in her power to show her regret and her honest desire to hear words of forgiveness from Mrs. Bateson, even though she could not hope that the notice would be withdrawn.

She would have liked to speak to cook, but received no encouragement from that quarter. The older servant adhered to her resolution, said "Yes" or "No" when asked a question, put what she was obliged to say into the fewest words possible, and then closed her lips and "kept herself to herself."

So, seeing that she was shunned, and that even her fellow-servants condemned her conduct towards her mistress, Kate spent as little time in their company as possible, but stole away to her own room, and regretted in solitude the fault she would have been only too thankful to acknowledge, if by so doing she could have regained her mistress's favour.