Descending again to the bed-room, I set to work with my tools. The
utmost care was necessary, for the threads were weak with old age. I
had only one or two slight mishaps, however, succeeding on the whole
better than I had expected. Leaving the door denuded of its covering, I
took the patch on my arm, and again sought the library. Hobbes’s
surprise, and indeed pleasure, when he saw that my plunder not only
fitted the gap, but completed the design, was great. I directed him to
get the whole piece down as carefully as he could, and went to extract,
if possible, a favour from Lady Brotherton.
She was of course very stiff--no doubt she would have called it
dignified; but I did all I could to please her, and perhaps in some
small measure succeeded. After representing, amongst other advantages,
what an addition a suite of rooms filled with a valuable library must
be to the capacity of the house for the reception and entertainment of
guests, I ventured at last to beg the services of Miss Pease for the
repair of the bit of the tapestry.
She rang the bell, sent for Miss Pease, and ordered her, in a style of
the coldest arrogance, to put herself under my direction. She followed
me to the door in the meekest manner, but declined the arm I offered.
As we went I explained what I wanted, saying I could not trust it to
any hands but those of a lady, expressing a hope that she would not
think I had taken too great a liberty, and begging her to say nothing
about the work itself, as I wished to surprise Sir Giles and my
assistants. She said she would be most happy to help me, but when she
saw how much was wanted, she did look a little dismayed. She went and
fetched her work-basket at once, however, and set about it, tacking the
edges to a strip of canvas, in preparation for some kind of darning,
which would not, she hoped, be unsightly.
For a whole week she and the carpenter were the only persons I
admitted, and while she gave to her darning every moment she could
redeem from her attendance on Lady Brotherton, the carpenter and I were
busy--he cleaning and polishing, and I ranging the more deserted parts
of the house to find furniture suitable for our purpose. In Clara’s
room was an old Turkey-carpet which we appropriated, and when we had
the tapestry up again, which Miss Pease had at length restored in a
marvellous manner--surpassing my best hopes, and more like healing than
repairing--the place was to my eyes a very nest of dusky harmonies.
CHAPTER XXXVII.
THE OLD CHEST.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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