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"Eighteen-pence a score. It wor that rate when I wor a girl. An' it ha' been dibble dibble iver sense; a penny off here, an' a penny off there, an' a hard job to keep a bite ov anythink in your mouth." "Then I may put down your name among our workers, Mrs. Jellison?" said Marcella, rising and smiling down upon her. "Oh, lor', no; I niver said that," said Mrs. Jellison, hastily.
Hurd, as soon as she saw the keeper's wife, she turned her back abruptly on her visitor, and walked to the other end of the kitchen. "Are you comin', mother?" repeated Isabella. Mrs. Jellison grumbled, gibed at her, and made long leave-takings, while the daughter stood silent, waiting, and every now and then peering at Marcella, who had never seen her before.
"I don' know where yur manners is," said Mrs. Jellison sharply to her, as though she had been a child of ten, "that you don't say good evenin' to the young lady." Mrs. Westall curtsied low, and hoped she might be excused, as it had grown so dark. Her tone was smooth and servile, and Marcella disliked her as she shook hands with her. The other old people, including Mrs.
If you ast Mr. Harden he'll tell you, I dessay." Patton allowed himself an inward chuckle. Even Mrs. Jellison, he thought, must admit that he knew a thing or two as to the best way of dealing with the gentry. But Marcella fixed him with her bright frank eyes. "I had rather ask in the village," she said. "If you don't know how it is now, Mr. Patton, tell me how it used to be when you were young.
And when she'd got it, she'd groan you'd think she couldn't be asleep, and yet she was, dead-like for two hours. I didn't get no rest with her, and now I don't seem to get no rest without her." And again Mrs. Brunt put her hand up to her eyes. "Ah, you were allus one for toilin' an' frettin'," said Mrs. Jellison, calmly.
Oh! thank yer, miss, my 'ealth is pretty tidy, though I 'ave been plagued this winter with a something they call the 'flenzy. I wor very bad! 'Yo go to bed, Mrs. Jellison, says Dr. Sharpe, 'or yo'll know of it. But I worn't goin' to be talked to by 'im. Why, I knowed 'im when he wor no 'igher nor Johnnie.
There ain't much to make a child 'appy in that 'ouse. Westall, ee's that mad about them poachers over Tudley End; ee's like a wild bull at 'ome. I told Isabella ee'd come to knockin' ov her about some day, though ee did speak so oily when ee wor a courtin'. Now she knows as I kin see a thing or two," said Mrs. Jellison, significantly.
"I wouldn't mind saying that or anything else to Lord Maxwell," she said proudly. "I'm not ashamed of anything I think." "No, I'll bet you ain't," said Mrs. Jellison, withdrawing her hand. "Now then, Patton, you say what you thinks. You ain't got no vote now you're in the parish houses I minds that. The quality don't trouble you at 'lection times.
Hurd, as has been said, did not smile. At the mention of Westall, she got up hastily, and began to put away the tea things. Marcella meanwhile had been sitting thoughtful. "You say Westall makes bad blood with the young men, Mrs. Jellison?" she said, looking up. "Is there much poaching in this village now, do you think?" There was a dead silence. Mrs.
Patton leaned forward on his stick, shaken with a sort of inward explosion; his plaintive wife laughed under her breath till she must needs sigh because laughter tired her old bones. Mrs. Brunt gurgled gently. And finally Mrs. Jellison was carried away.
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