Guardian and ward -- Fiction; Inheritance and succession -- Fiction; Love stories
"No, ma'am, it's my belief as this was meant to be a dull house before
the big trouble came. Me and Becky used to say to one another it was
just as if the sun had gone out, but we never expected what came at
last, or I believe we should have run away."
The moment before Kate had been thinking of dismissing the housekeeper
to her work, but this hint at something which had happened enchained her
attention, and the woman went on.
"You see, old master kept on getting from bad to worse, spite of Mr
Garstang's coming and seeing to his affairs; and one day the doctor says
to me: `It's of no use, Mrs Plant, I can do nothing for a man who shuts
himself up and sets all the laws of nature at defiance.' Those were his
very words, ma'am; I recollected them because I never quite knew what
they meant; but the doctor evidently thought master had done something
wrong, though I don't think he ever did, for he was such a good man.
Then came that morning, ma'am. I may as well tell you now. Becky used
to sleep with me then, same as she does now, but that was before she had
face-ache and fits. I remember it as well as can be. It was just at
daylight in autumn time, when the men brings round the ropes of onions,
and I nudged her, and I says, `Time to get up, Becky,' and she yawned
and got up and went down, for she always dressed quicker than I could.
And there I was, dressing, and thinking that master had told me that Mr
Garstang was coming at ten o'clock, and I was to send him into the
library at once, and breakfast was to be ready there.
"I'd just put on my cap, ma'am, and was going down, when I heard the
horridest shriek as ever was, and sank down in a chair trembling, for I
felt as sure as sure that burglars were in the house, and they were
murdering my poor Becky. I was that frightened I got up and tottered to
the door, and locked and bolted it, for I said they shouldn't murder me.
But, oh, dear; what I did suffer! `Pretty sort of a mother you are,' I
says to myself, `taking care of yourself, and letting poor Becky be cut
to pieces p'raps to hide their crime.'
"That went to my heart like a knife, ma'am, and I unfastened the door
again and went out and listened, and all was still as still. You know
how quiet it can be in this house, ma'am, don't you?"
Kate nodded.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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