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Updated: May 4, 2025
I suppose you'll stop there altogether when this job on the promenade is done?" "I aren't I'm not living servant with her," said Caroline sharply. "Who's been telling you that? I simply went to light the fire for them in the morning and do a few odd jobs until they could get somebody permanent." "But I always understood from Mrs. Creddle you were going to be servant there," persisted the woman.
"I don't see as anybody has a right to pass a remark. I'd rather have four lasses than a red nose, anyway." If the person addressed happened to possess the outward and visible signs of alcoholic excess, so much the worse for him Mr. Creddle was touchy on the subject of his family and did not wish to please.
And contempt did not kill love, as she had always understood from the novels in the pretty paper covers which she liked to read so much. It had killed trust; but the ache in her went on just the same, even though Godfrey had been threatened by Uncle Creddle with a big stick, and had shown such a cowardly anxiety to escape a row.
And I always hated the thought of living in, and being tied up at nights in their old kitchen; only you and Aunt Ellen fixed it all up when I was a kid, and I somehow never thought of going against you. It seemed one of the things that had to be like putting your hair up and such like but I never wanted to do it my own self." "Well, you can't run back now," said Mrs. Creddle.
"There's no talk of misbehaving," said Creddle. "And I aren't going to have any. You get your hat on and come with me." Caroline's face stiffened; then she felt the touch of Mrs. Creddle's roughened, kind hand on her arm, and saw that jolly face puckered with crying which had smiled a welcome on her all her life. She gave a great gulp and walked to the door, Creddle following her.
But he spoke the last word to empty air and the next moment he could hear the click of the gate as she slipped away from him up the dark drive. The Cinema On Monday evening Caroline stood at the corner of Emerald Avenue, not sure whether to go down it or not, for she had not visited the Creddles since Mr. Creddle so ignominiously took her back to the Cottage at midnight.
Creddle's cautious advice. All that, however, was long ago. Now demure and slim Caroline would no more have thought of racing round half-built houses at night than Mrs. Creddle herself. But she flung open the front door of Number 10 with the same certainty of warm interest she had always felt on entering that house, for Mrs.
They were the best maid-servants in the world, and they did not know it. But they had a great pride in themselves, if not in their fine calling, and Mrs. Creddle felt this stir within her as she listened to her husband. "Your uncle's right," she said. "Maybe other people will get to know you lost your key, and they mightn't believe you.
Creddle would bring out some freshly baked "pie"; with thick crust above and below, and apples or currants and sugar, or gooseberries inside; and with the house all clean for Sunday, they would take their hour of ease late on Saturday night. So Caroline had been brought up in an atmosphere of kindness, though Mr.
You've lived among a low lot in this terrace until your mind has got poisoned," cried Caroline, maddened with anger and shame. "You're a wicked woman to have such horrible thoughts. I'm telling you the truth. May I die to-night if I aren't!" "Oh, Carrie!" said Mrs. Creddle, wincing as if she had been struck. "How can you speak to me like that? I don't doubt you think it is all true.
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