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Updated: May 10, 2025
After having duly surveyed the majestic activities of the ground-man on the bowling-green, and having glanced at his watch, Mr. Ollerenshaw sat down on the nearest bench; he was waiting for an opponent, the captain of the bowling-club. It is exactly at the instant of his downsitting that the drama about to be unfolded properly begins.
"She's above forty-four," James corrected. "She told me she was thirty-nine five years ago," Helen protested. "Did she tell ye she was forty, four years ago?" "No. At least, I don't remember." "Did she ever tell ye she was forty?" "No." "Happen she's not such a simple creature as ye thought for, my lass," observed James Ollerenshaw.
You cannot have tea without tea-leaves; and James Ollerenshaw kept the tea-leaves in a tea-caddy, locked, in his front room. He had an extravagant taste in tea. He fancied China tea; and he fancied China tea that cost five shillings a pound. He was the last person to leave China tea at five shillings a pound to the economic prudence of a Mrs. Butt. Every day Mrs.
"You'll stop for tea," said he, firmly, "or my name isn't James Ollerenshaw." He preceded her into the kitchen. The door between the kitchen and the scullery was half-closed; in the aperture he again had a momentary, but distinct, glimpse of the eye of Mrs. Butt. "I do like this room," said Helen, enthusiastically. "Uninterrupted view o' th' back yard," said Ollerenshaw. "Sit ye down, lass."
I shall keep Georgiana as my own maid." "My child, you're going it!" "My child, I came here to go it." "And and Mr. Ollerenshaw is really pleased?" Helen laughed. "Uncle never goes into raptures, you know. But I hope he will be pleased. The fact is, he doesn't know anything about these new servants yet. He'll find them installed when he returns. It will be a little treat for him.
Even so good a landlord as James Ollerenshaw is obliged now and then to go to extremes in the pursuit of arrears of rent, and the upper part of the house was crowded with choice specimens of furniture which had once belonged to the more magnificent of his defaulting tenants.
They mounted the stairs. "Will you give me your arm, Mr. Ollerenshaw?" To such gifts he was not used. Already he had given twenty-six pounds that day. The spectacle of Jimmy ascending the state staircase of Wilbraham Hall with all the abounding figure of Mrs. Prockter on his arm would have drawn crowds had it been offered to the public at sixpence a head.
Their converse, as they descended into the town, was not effective. It was, indeed, feeble. They had fought a brief but bitter duel, and James Ollerenshaw had been severely wounded. His dignity bled freely; he made, strange to say, scarcely any attempt to staunch the blood, which might have continued to flow for a considerable time had not a diversion occurred. It consisted in the passing of Mrs.
He was already despising Don Juan as a puling boy. "Helen heard summat, and so she had come out of her bedroom. Her's nervous i' this big house." "Did you tell her I was here, Mr. Ollerenshaw?" By this time he had rejoined her at Les Grands Mulets. "No," he said, without sufficiently reflecting. "She didn't hear me call out, then?" "Did ye call out?" If he was in a theatre, he also could act.
However, he passed the time by giving the page a lesson. Helen tapped at the bedroom door, left Mrs. Prockter to enter, and descended the stairs again. "Is her up there with him?" James asked, in a whisper. Helen nodded. "Ye'd better ask her stop and have something to eat wi' us," said James. Helen had to reconcile James Ollerenshaw to the new scale of existence at Wilbraham Hall.
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