Cousin Maude - Page 36/138

It took but a short time for her to understand the doctor, and to

say that she disliked him would but feebly express the feeling of

aversion with which she regarded him. Not a word, however, would

Matty admit of past or present unkindness--neither was it necessary

that she should, for Janet saw it all--saw how "Old Maxim," as she

called him, had worried her life away, and while cherishing for him

a sentiment of hatred, she strove to comfort her young mistress, who

grew weaker and weaker every day, until at last the husband himself,

aroused to a sense of her danger, strove by little acts of kindness

unusual in him, to make amends for years of wrong. Experience is a

thorough teacher, and he shrank from the bitter memories which

spring from the grave of a neglected wife, and he would rather that

Matty, when she died, should not turn away from him, shuddering at

his touch, and asking him to take his hand from off her brow; just

as one brown-haired woman had done. This feeling of his was

appreciated by Janet, who in proportion as he became tender toward

Matty, was respectful to him, until at last there came to be a

tolerably good understanding between them, and she was suffered, in

most matters, to have her own way.

With John she was a special favorite, and through his

instrumentality open hostilities were prevented between herself and

his mother, until the latter missed another cup of jelly from its

new hiding-place. Then, indeed, the indignant African announced her

intention of going at once to "Miss Ruggles'," who had offered her

"twelve shillings a week and a heap of leisure."

"Let her go," said John, who knew Mrs. Ruggles to be a fashionable

woman, the mother of nine children, whose ages varied from one to

fifteen; "let her go--she'll be glad to come back," and the sequel

proved he was right, for just as it was beginning to grow light on

the second day of her absence, someone rapped at his window, and a

half-crying voice whispered, "Let me in, John; I've been out to

sarvice enough."

John complied with the request, and when Janet came down to the

kitchen, how was she surprised at finding Hannah there, leisurely

grinding her coffee, with an innocent look upon her sable face, as

if nothing had ever happened. John's raillery, however, loosened her

tongue at last, and very minutely she detailed her grievances. "She

had done a two weeks' washing, besides all the work, and the whole

of them young ones under her feet into the bargain. Then at night,

when she hoped for a little rest, Mrs. Ruggles had gone off to a

party and stayed till midnight, leaving her with that squallin'

brat; but never you mind," said she, "I poured a little paregol down

its throat, or my, name aint Hannah," and with a sigh of relief at

her escape from "Miss Ruggles," she finished her story and resumed

her accustomed duties, which for many weeks she faithfully

performed, finding but little fault with the frequent suggestions of

Mrs. Janet Blodgett, whose rule in the household was for the time

being firmly established.