Audrey - Page 58/248

"And Audrey?" said his wife.

Darden, about to rise, sank back again and sat still, a hand upon either

arm of his chair. "Eh!" he said; then, in a meditative tone, "That is

so,--there is Audrey."

"If he has eyes, he'll see that for himself," retorted Mistress Deborah

tartly. "'More to the purpose,' he'll say, 'where is the money that I

gave you for her?'"

"Why, it's gone," answered Darden "Gone in maintenance,--gone in meat and

drink and raiment. He didn't want it buried. Pshaw, Deborah, he has quite

forgot his fine-lady plan! He forgot it years ago, I'll swear."

"I'll send her now on an errand to the Widow Constance's," said the

mistress of the house. "Then before he comes again I'll get her a gown"-The minister brought his hand down upon the table. "You'll do no such

thing!" he thundered. "The girl's got to be here when he comes. As for her

dress, can't she borrow from you? The Lord knows that though only the wife

of a poor parson, you might throw for gewgaws with a bona roba! Go trick

her out, and bring her here. I'll attend to the wine and the books."

When the door opened again, and Audrey, alarmed and wondering, slipped

with the wind into the room, and stood in the sunshine before the

minister, that worthy first frowned, then laughed, and finally swore.

"'Swounds, Deborah, your hand is out! If I hadn't taken you from service,

I'd swear that you were never inside a fine lady's chamber. What's the

matter with the girl's skirt?"

"She's too tall!" cried the sometime waiting woman angrily. "As for that

great stain upon the silk, the wine made it when you threw your tankard at

me, last Sunday but one."

"That manteau pins her arms to her sides," interrupted the minister

calmly, "and the lace is dirty. You've hidden all her hair under that

mazarine, and too many patches become not a brown skin. Turn around,

child!"

While Audrey slowly revolved, the guardian of her fortunes, leaning back

in his chair, bent his bushy brows and gazed, not at the circling figure

in its tawdry apparel, but into the distance. When she stood still and

looked at him with a half-angry, half-frightened face, he brought his

bleared eyes to bear upon her, studied her for a minute, then motioned to

his wife.

"She must take off this paltry finery, Deborah," he announced. "I'll have

none of it. Go, child, and don your Cinderella gown."