Chapter VII: A Mistake Confessed

MRS. MAYBRICK had felt doubtful whether Kate would be strong enough for her place, and at the end of two months, the girl herself was beginning to doubt it too.

The long hours, the ceaseless round of work, the rare Sabbath rest, the general unquiet of a house, where dress, costly entertainments, and outdoor amusements were the only things thought of by the heads of it, began to tell upon the girl.

Her face became pale, her step slower and heavier, and though she continued to do her work in the old painstaking way, she could scarcely get through it.

At Heyington, wages were paid monthly and to the day, but at the two months' end, Kate had received nothing from Mrs. Maybrick. She ventured to ask Ashley about this, and the nurse told her that she need not be anxious about her money.

"No scarcity of that in this house," she said, "only the mistress does not care to be troubled with monthly payments. You will get your wages at the quarter or thereabouts, perhaps a week or two after date, or just as likely that much before, according as it comes into her head. If you had made a bargain beforehand, I dare say you would have got it monthly, with a little grumble, for asking for it out of the regular way."

"Regular! As if anything were regular in that house," thought Kate, "when even the quarterly payments depend on the mistress's memory."

"Don't you think Mrs. Maybrick puts the dates down?" she asked, with a face of alarm which appealed to Ashley's kind heart.

"To be sure she does, only she is so busy with her parties and things that she may not look at her book just when the reminder is wanted, you know. Are you short of money? Because if you are, I can lend you a little," said the nurse.

"I have not a penny," said Kate, tears filling her eyes as she owned her poverty.

Then she told how, counting on monthly payments, she had sent all she could to her mother, and that sundry necessary expenses had exhausted the few shillings left after paying for her journey to Manchester.

"And things dirty sooner and wear faster here," she said, "for I cannot get time for sewing."

"I know that, for I was once a young girl in a town place like you are. Here, take this ten shillings, and if you want more before the quarter, you shall have it. City hours do not suit you, I am afraid," she added. "You made a mistake when you left the country to better yourself."

"I did, indeed," said Kate, after gratefully thanking the nurse for the loan. "If I had to choose again—but it is of no use grieving. This is a good place in many ways. I ought not to complain, for Mrs. Maybrick never scolds."

Nurse knew that she never would. If a girl did not suit or neglected her work, no trouble was taken with her. She had to leave, and another came in her stead. If she broke down in health, the result was the same. She was there to do certain work for wages, not to be waited on or nursed.

Mrs. Maybrick did not scold or sympathise. The incapable—whether through her fault or misfortune—had to go, and there was an end of the matter. As a rule, there was not even an inquiry where she would go to. Work and wages. No work, no wages, and mistress and maid parted, to be equally "out of sight, out of mind, for the future."

Kate held on till the quarter's end. She had come to Manchester in June, and now it was the middle of September. It would evidently be the few days after time in her case before her wages were paid, for Mr. and Mrs. Maybrick were away from home. But Ashley kindly took care that she suffered no inconvenience from the want of them.

"I'll tell you what it is, my girl," said the nurse; "you will have to get back to the country. You get thinner and paler every day, and it is plain that town air does not suit you."

"I don't feel well," replied Kate; "and yet I hardly know what is the matter with me, because I have no particular aches and pains. Only my limbs feel heavy, and I find the work harder to get through than I did. I am not so young as I was," she added, borrowing one of cook's excuses for sleeping on Sunday afternoons, and making a poor attempt at a laugh over her weakness.

Ashley looked pityingly at the girl and said, "If I were you, Kate, I would write to your old mistress, and ask her if she will help you to a place any where near where you lived before. It is not likely she would take you back even if she could, but from all you have told me, she is very kind, and the best friend you ever had."

"I do not think I ought to ask her to help me," replied Kate, sadly enough.

"Is it that you don't like to humble yourself to ask? If you have any feeling of that sort, put pride in your pocket, my girl. Setting aside even the thought of whether it is right or wrong, let me tell you nobody can afford to lose such a friend as that lady has been to you, if they can any way keep her."

"I am not proud, nurse. Mrs. Bateson knows how sorry I was for having behaved so ungratefully to her. There is never a day that I do not think of her goodness, and of the happy home I had at Heyington. But I do not deserve that she should take any trouble for me, or that I ought to ask for more when she has done so much for mother and the children beside, even since I left."

"I think that sort of feeling often keeps us from going to a greater and better Master than all earthly employers," said nurse. "And yet, if we would but believe it, those who most feel that they deserve nothing are most welcome. It is the good-for-nothings, and the people who are 'all wants,' as one may say, and who are over head and ears in debt, and have neither money nor price to bring along with them, to whom God by His Holy Spirit is always crying, 'Come.'

"And if they listen and go to Him, He supplies their wants, forgives their sins, applies Christ's righteousness to them so that they are accepted for the sake of what He did. He shows them that Jesus paid that debt of theirs which has been troubling them so sorely, and that, though He has done and given so much already, the more they ask, the more ready He is to give."

"I believe that," said Kate. "Indeed, I know it is true."

"You are a happy girl then," replied Ashley, "and the thought of it should make you willing to go to Mrs. Bateson. Go, I mean by writing and opening your heart to her."

"I don't quite see," said Kate, in a hesitating way.

"Do you not feel sure that Mrs. Bateson is a real Christian lady?"

"Yes, indeed, or she never would have been so good to me."

"Then she must have in her something of the spirit that is in Jesus Himself. You say she forgave you. I suppose you don't think she would profess to do it without meaning what she said, that would be a poor sort of half-and-half forgiveness. Our Father forgives and blesses. The disciples are told, 'Be tender-hearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you.'

"Now you see, Kate, the forgiveness of the Christian will be like that of the Master. Depend on it, your old mistress would be glad to do you good, if she could see how. She has seen it and done it, too, already, through your mother and the children."

"I will write, nurse," said Kate; "and thank you with all my heart for your kindness. You have cheered me many a time, and with such a friend as you, I could work on, if only I felt strong enough."

"God bless you, my girl," was Nurse Ashley's answer, as she put her motherly arms round Kate and kissed her as she would have kissed her own absent daughter—for she was a widow with an only child who was cared for by an aunt—"I wish you were fit to stay, but it will be better for you to go if you can."

Kate lost no time in carrying out her resolution, and before she slept that night, she had written to Mrs. Bateson.

It was a very simply-worded letter, but it came from a full heart and in it the girl, encouraged by Ashley's advice, ventured to tell all that had befallen her since she came to Manchester. Her loneliness, her longings after the home she had left behind, and of the sense of its value which so soon came to her amidst her new surroundings.

She told of the Sundays spent indoors, and of that first day out, when she could choose her own way of spending it,—of the thankfulness with which she sought the House of God, and availed herself of its privileges, and of the Bible-class to which she had so fortunately been led.

She did not forget to mention the grey-haired lady who had shown a kindly interest in her from that first meeting, or nurse's advice which had decided her to write to her old mistress, though she could not help feeling that she was taking a great liberty in doing it.

There were no complaints of Mrs. Maybrick, or of the difference in comfort and order between the two places. She was glad to tell that her present mistress had never found fault with the way in which her work was done, only Manchester did not seem to suit her health. And she was nearly always feeling tired now, but she thought if she could only get back to a quiet country place, she should be well directly. This was why she ventured to ask if Mrs. Bateson knew of any such place and would speak for her.

Kate felt as if a load were lifted from her mind when that letter was posted. She did not think the answer would be long in coming, for Mrs. Bateson was always particular about replying soon.

Hope made the girl look brighter, and brought a little flush to her cheeks, but it did not last.

On the following day, Mr. and Mrs. Maybrick returned, and the former noticed Kate's pallor, and spoke of it to his wife.

"I think," said he, "that young housemaid of yours is going to break down. She looks wretchedly ill, so different from the rosy, healthy-complexioned girl that came here—how long is it since?"

"About three months. And by the way, her wages must be due."

And Mrs. Maybrick, on referring to her book, found that they ought to have been paid a fortnight before. She was not ungenerous, and she at once called Kate, gave her the amount, and added a trifle as a present, saying, "I have been pleased with your work so far, and hope you will go on as you have begun."

Then she left Kate without giving her an opportunity of answering.

"You are right about that girl's looks, Arthur," she remarked to her husband. "She has gone off terribly."

"Did you ask her if she had been ill during our absence?"

"No, I am certain she has not been laid by. And unless a girl actually tells me she is ill, I think it is better to take no notice. Servants are generally ready enough to complain if a finger aches. I should be sorry to part with Kate. She has been thoroughly trained, knows her work, and does it without any fuss.

"But we have visitors coming in a fortnight, and I could not keep her to be waited on. I hope, if she is going to break down, it will be before they arrive, or not until they have left us again."

And that was all the feeling excited in Mrs. Maybrick by the sight of Kate's pale cheeks, and the dark rings round her heavy eyes. Her remark about the readiness of servants to complain was less than just, and particularly in Kate's case, for the girl had said nothing, except on the one occasion to the nurse, and then with no desire that her words should be repeated to her mistress. She was really most anxious to do her work and to remain where she was until, after proper notice, she might leave for some place the duties of which would not be beyond her strength.

She looked eagerly for a reply from her old mistress, and after the time arrived at which it might have been expected, she waited the postman's coming with feverish anxiety. But for ten days she looked in vain. No letter came from Mrs. Bateson.