How ridiculous and how unkind to wish an illness on Tabitha!
"I am surprised, Miss Osmond," said Lady Bodrean. "I have been ringing my bell for half an hour."
"I'm sorry. I forgot the time."
"Forgot the time! You are not here to forget time, Miss Osmond. You are not paid for that, you know."
Oh, why didn't I tell the disagreeable old woman that I would serve her no longer!
Simply because, said my logical self, if you did you would have to do something. You would have to go away and how would you ever see Tybalt if you did?
I had somehow betrayed my inability to accept my position with resignation and this was something Lady Bodrean seemed to have made up her mind to enforce.
She reminded me far more than was necessary that I was a paid servant. She tried to curtail my liberty whenever possible. She would send me on an errand and time me. She would make me walk round the gardens with her carrying her basket while she cut flowers; she would tell me to arrange them—and my efforts in this artistic endeavor had always amused Dorcas and Alison. They used to say, "If anyone can disarrange a bowl of flowers, that is Judith." At the rectory it was a joke; here it was a serious matter. If she could humiliate me, she did; and she was seeking and finding many opportunities.
At least, I said to myself, this has taught me what a happy home Dorcas and Alison gave me and I ought to be forever grateful for that.
I shall never forget the day she told me that there was to be a ball at Keverall Court.
"Of course a young lady in my daughter's position must be brought out formally. I am sure you realize that, Miss Osmond, because although you yourself are not in the same position, you did learn something of gracious living when you were allowed to take lessons here."
"Graciousness is something that I miss nowadays," I retorted.
She misunderstood. "You were very fortunate to be allowed to glimpse it for a while. I always think it is a mistake to educate people beyond their stations."
"Sometimes," I said, "it enables the sons and daughters of erudite churchmen to be of use to their betters."
"I am glad to see you take that view, Miss Osmond. I have to confess you do not always show such becoming humility."
She was an exceedingly stupid woman. I had learned that Sir Ralph had married her for her fortune. Why he should have done so was beyond my understanding when he was a rich man in his own right. But what I could understand was why he had acquired his reputation for seeking consolation elsewhere.
"Now," she went on, "there will be a great deal for you to do. Invitations to be drawn up and sent out. You've no idea, Miss Osmond, what giving a ball like this entails."
"I can hardly be expected to," I replied, "coming from such a stratum of society."
"Dear me no. It will be an education for you to learn. Such experience for one in your position is so useful."
"I shall do my humble best," I retorted with irony.
But that, of course, was lost on Lady Bodrean.
Jane, Lady Bodrean's personal maid, winked at me. "A nice cup of tea?" she said. "I've got it all ready." She had a little spirit lamp in her room, which she had made very comfortable.
I sat down and she poured out.
"My word, she's got it in for you."
"I gather my company doesn't give her much pleasure. I wonder she doesn't allow herself the treat of being rid of it."
"I know her. She's enjoying herself. She likes tormenting people. She was always like that. I've been with her since before she married. She's got worse."
"It couldn't have been very comfortable for you."
"Oh, I know how to handle her. Sugar, Miss Osmond?"
"Thank you. Yes," I said thoughtfully, "she does seem to dislike me more than is warranted. Mind you, I am ready to admit I don't perform my duties with great efficiency. I can't imagine why she doesn't do what she is always hinting she will. Dismiss me."
"She doesn't want that. Who's she going to torment then?"
"There's a fairly large staff to choose from. Surely from among you all she could find some highly tormentable type."
"Oh you joke about it, Miss Osmond. Sometimes I think you're going to explode though."
"So do I," I said.
"I remember you coming here for your lessons. We used to say, 'My word, that one's got more spirits than all the rest of them put together. Regular little firebrand!'"
"And now you see the metamorphosis of Judith Osmond."
"Eh? I've seen it happen before. The nursery governess before that Miss Graham. Nice spirited sort of girl, she was. But she hadn't been here long when things started to happen. Sir Ralph had his eyes on her and when Lady Bodrean got to work . . . My word, she changed. In the old days Sir Ralph, he were a one. No woman safe from him. He's changed a lot too. He's got quieter. I've seen him have some funny dizzy turns too. Slowed him down a bit. There've been some scandals." She came closer to me and her lively brown eyes were alight with pleasure. "Women," she said. "Couldn't leave a pretty girl alone. The fur used to fly. Many times I've heard . . . being in the next room, you know. Couldn't help but hear even if I tried not to."
I could picture her, ear to keyhole while a younger Don Juan of a Sir Ralph stood accused before his wronged wife.
"After a while she seemed to make up her mind that there was nothing she could do about it. He'd go his way, she'd go hers. He wanted a son, of course. And there wasn't another child after Miss Theodosia. So Master Hadrian came to live here. But she, her ladyship, seemed to be more of a tartar every day; and once she gets her knife into someone . . . she's going to use it."
I said: "I should get out, I suppose."
Jane moved farther towards me and whispered confidentially, "You could find a better place. I've thought about this. What about Miss Theodosia?"
"What of her?"
"This ball . . . well, it's a sort of coming out. All the fine rich gentlemen of the neighborhood will be invited. Then they'll have balls and such like goings on. You know what it's all leading up to."
"Miss Theodosia is being paraded before them, in all her charms, and by no means the least of these is the nice golden dowry glittering round her neck. 'Young gentleman, show your credentials and make your bid.'"
"You always had your answer, didn't you? I used to say to Miss Graham, 'My goodness, that one's got a bit of lip, she has.' But what I'm getting at is this. Before long they'll find a husband for Miss Theodosia, and then you're her friend ... so ..."
"I, her friend. Please don't let Lady Bodrean hear you call me that. I'm sure she would be most indignant."
"Now you're getting bitter. It's all along of once being treated like one of them and now finding yourself here in a paid job. You have to be clever. Now you and Theodosia were together as children. You were the one who used to order her about. Theodosia's not like her mother. Suppose you remind her of your friendship."
"Ingratiate myself with the daughter of the house?"
"You could become friends with her again and when she marries . . . you see what I mean? Miss Theodosia wants a companion and who better than her old friend. What do you think of it?"
"Machiavellian!" I said.
"You can laugh. But I wouldn't like to think of spending my life looking after an old tartar like that."
"Suppose Theodosia doesn't marry?"
"Theodosia not marry! Of course she will. Why they've got the man for her already. I heard Sir Ralph talking to her ladyship about it. Quite a to do there was. She said: 'You've got an obsession with those people. I think you wanted Hadrian for Sabina.'"
"Oh?" I said faintly.