England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Short stories, English
"Yes, poor thing, I remembered the name. But, to go on. In the evening,
after the finding of this letter, I and Miss Cattledon were startled by
a disturbance in the kitchen. Cries and screams, and loud, passionate
words. Miss Cattledon ran down; I stayed at the top of the stairs. She
found Hall, Matilda, and one of the others there, Matilda in a perfect
storm of fury, attacking Hall like a maniac. She tore handfuls out of
her hair, she bit her thumb until her teeth met in it: Hall, though
by far the bigger person of the two, and I should have thought the
stronger, had no chance against her; she seemed to be as a very reed in
her hands, passion enduing Matilda with a strength perfectly unnatural.
George, who had been out on an errand, came in at the moment, and by his
help the women were parted. Cattledon maintains that Matilda, during the
scene, was nothing less than a demon; quite mad. When it was over, the
girl fell on the floor utterly exhausted, and lay like a dead thing,
every bit of strength, almost of life, gone out of her."
"I never could have believed it of Matilda."
"Nor I, Johnny. I grant that the girl had just cause to be angry. How
should we like to have our private places rifled, and their contents
exhibited to and mocked at by the world; contents which to us seem
sacred? But to have put herself into that wild rage was both unseemly
and unaccountable. Her state then, and her state immediately afterwards,
made me think--I speak it with all reverence, Johnny--of the poor people
in holy writ from whom the evil spirits were cast out."
"Ay. It seems to be just such a case, Miss Deveen."
"Hall's thumb was so much injured that a doctor had to come daily to it
for nine or ten days," continued Miss Deveen. "Of course, after this
climax, I could not retain Matilda in my service; neither would she
have remained in it. She indulged a feeling of the most bitter hatred
to the women servants, to Hall especially--she had not much liked them
before, as you may readily guess--and she said that nothing would induce
her to remain with them, even had I been willing to keep her. So she has
obtained a situation with some acquaintances of mine who live in this
neighbourhood, and goes to it next week. That is why Matilda leaves me,
Johnny."
In my heart I could not help being sorry for her, and said so. She
looked so truly, terribly unhappy!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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