Some woman, whom he did not recognize, had turned in at his gate and
was ringing the door-bell. Dr. Rane found he was called out to a
patient: one of the profitless people as usual.
"Piersons want me, Bessy," he looked into the room to say. "The man's
worse. I shall not be long."
And Bessy rose when she heard the street-door closed.
Taking a duster from the drawer, she carefully passed it over the keys
before closing her piano for the night. Very much did Bessy cherish
her drawing-room and its furniture. They did not use it very much: not
from fear of spoiling it, but because the other room with its large
bay window seemed the more cheerful; and people feel more at ease
in the room they usually sit in. Bessy took as much pride in
her house as though it had been one of the grandest in all Dallory:
happy as a queen in it, felt she. Stepping lightly over the
drawing-room carpet--fresh as the day when it came out of Turtle's
warehouse--touching, with a gentle finger, some pretty thing or other
on the tables as she passed, she opened the door and called to the
servant.
"Molly, it is time these shutters were shut."
Molly Green, in an apology of a cap tilted on her hair, and a white
muslin apron, came out of the kitchen. Molly liked to be as smart as
the best of them, although she had all the work to do. Which all was
not very much when aided by her mistress's good management.
"You had better light the hall-lamp," added Mrs. Rane, as she went
upstairs.
It was tolerably light still. Bessy often did what she was about to
do--namely, draw down the window-blinds; it saved Molly trouble. The
wide landing was less bare than it used to be; at the time of Dr.
Rane's marriage he had covered it with some green drugget, and put a
chair and a book-shelf there. It still looked too large, still
presented a contrast to the luxuriously furnished landing of Mrs.
Cumberland's opposite, especially when the two wide windows happened
to be open; but Bessy thought her own quite good enough. Of the two
back-rooms, one had been furnished as a spare bedchamber; the other
had not much in it besides Bessy's boxes that had come from the Hall.
Richard had spoken kindly to her about this last chamber. "Should any
contingency arise; sickness, or other; that you should require its
use, Bessy," he said, "and Rane does not find it quite convenient to
spare money for furniture, let me know, and I'll do it for you." She
had thanked him gratefully: but the contingency had not come yet.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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