CHAPTER II
I spoke of my lady a line or two back. Now the Diamond could never havebeen in our house, where it was lost, if it had not been made a presentof to my lady's daughter; and my lady's daughter would never have beenin existence to have the present, if it had not been for my lady who(with pain and travail) produced her into the world. Consequently, if webegin with my lady, we are pretty sure of beginning far enough back. Andthat, let me tell you, when you have got such a job as mine in hand, isa real comfort at starting.
If you know anything of the fashionable world, you have heard tell ofthe three beautiful Miss Herncastles. Miss Adelaide; Miss Caroline;and Miss Julia--this last being the youngest and the best of the threesisters, in my opinion; and I had opportunities of judging, as you shallpresently see. I went into the service of the old lord, their father(thank God, we have got nothing to do with him, in this business of theDiamond; he had the longest tongue and the shortest temper of any man,high or low, I ever met with)--I say, I went into the service of the oldlord, as page-boy in waiting on the three honourable young ladies, atthe age of fifteen years. There I lived till Miss Julia married the lateSir John Verinder. An excellent man, who only wanted somebody to managehim; and, between ourselves, he found somebody to do it; and what ismore, he throve on it and grew fat on it, and lived happy and diedeasy on it, dating from the day when my lady took him to church to bemarried, to the day when she relieved him of his last breath, and closedhis eyes for ever.
I have omitted to state that I went with the bride to the bride'shusband's house and lands down here. "Sir John," she says, "I can'tdo without Gabriel Betteredge." "My lady," says Sir John, "I can't dowithout him, either." That was his way with her--and that was how Iwent into his service. It was all one to me where I went, so long as mymistress and I were together.
Seeing that my lady took an interest in the out-of-door work, and thefarms, and such like, I took an interest in them too--with all the morereason that I was a small farmer's seventh son myself. My lady got meput under the bailiff, and I did my best, and gave satisfaction, and gotpromotion accordingly. Some years later, on the Monday as it might be,my lady says, "Sir John, your bailiff is a stupid old man. Pension himliberally, and let Gabriel Betteredge have his place." On the Tuesdayas it might be, Sir John says, "My lady, the bailiff is pensionedliberally; and Gabriel Betteredge has got his place." You hear more thanenough of married people living together miserably. Here is anexample to the contrary. Let it be a warning to some of you, and anencouragement to others. In the meantime, I will go on with my story.
Well, there I was in clover, you will say. Placed in a position of trustand honour, with a little cottage of my own to live in, with my roundson the estate to occupy me in the morning, and my accounts in theafternoon, and my pipe and my ROBINSON CRUSOE in the evening--what morecould I possibly want to make me happy? Remember what Adam wanted whenhe was alone in the Garden of Eden; and if you don't blame it in Adam,don't blame it in me.
The woman I fixed my eye on, was the woman who kept house for me at mycottage. Her name was Selina Goby. I agree with the late William Cobbettabout picking a wife. See that she chews her food well and sets her footdown firmly on the ground when she walks, and you're all right. SelinaGoby was all right in both these respects, which was one reason formarrying her. I had another reason, likewise, entirely of my owndiscovering. Selina, being a single woman, made me pay so much a weekfor her board and services. Selina, being my wife, couldn't charge forher board, and would have to give me her services for nothing. That wasthe point of view I looked at it from. Economy--with a dash of love. Iput it to my mistress, as in duty bound, just as I had put it to myself.
"I have been turning Selina Goby over in my mind," I said, "and I think,my lady, it will be cheaper to marry her than to keep her."
My lady burst out laughing, and said she didn't know which to be mostshocked at--my language or my principles. Some joke tickled her, Isuppose, of the sort that you can't take unless you are a person ofquality. Understanding nothing myself but that I was free to put it nextto Selina, I went and put it accordingly. And what did Selina say? Lord!how little you must know of women, if you ask that. Of course she said,Yes.
As my time drew nearer, and there got to be talk of my having a new coatfor the ceremony, my mind began to misgive me. I have compared noteswith other men as to what they felt while they were in my interestingsituation; and they have all acknowledged that, about a week before ithappened, they privately wished themselves out of it. I went a triflefurther than that myself; I actually rose up, as it were, and tried toget out of it. Not for nothing! I was too just a man to expect she wouldlet me off for nothing. Compensation to the woman when the man getsout of it, is one of the laws of England. In obedience to the laws,and after turning it over carefully in my mind, I offered Selina Goby afeather-bed and fifty shillings to be off the bargain. You will hardlybelieve it, but it is nevertheless true--she was fool enough to refuse.
After that it was all over with me, of course. I got the new coat ascheap as I could, and I went through all the rest of it as cheap as Icould. We were not a happy couple, and not a miserable couple. We weresix of one and half-a-dozen of the other. How it was I don't understand,but we always seemed to be getting, with the best of motives, in oneanother's way. When I wanted to go up-stairs, there was my wife comingdown; or when my wife wanted to go down, there was I coming up. That ismarried life, according to my experience of it.
After five years of misunderstandings on the stairs, it pleased anall-wise Providence to relieve us of each other by taking my wife. Iwas left with my little girl Penelope, and with no other child. Shortlyafterwards Sir John died, and my lady was left with her little girl,Miss Rachel, and no other child. I have written to very poor purposeof my lady, if you require to be told that my little Penelope was takencare of, under my good mistress's own eye, and was sent to school andtaught, and made a sharp girl, and promoted, when old enough, to be MissRachel's own maid.
As for me, I went on with my business as bailiff year after year up toChristmas 1847, when there came a change in my life. On that day, mylady invited herself to a cup of tea alone with me in my cottage. Sheremarked that, reckoning from the year when I started as page-boy in thetime of the old lord, I had been more than fifty years in her service,and she put into my hands a beautiful waistcoat of wool that she hadworked herself, to keep me warm in the bitter winter weather.
I received this magnificent present quite at a loss to find words tothank my mistress with for the honour she had done me. To my greatastonishment, it turned out, however, that the waistcoat was not anhonour, but a bribe. My lady had discovered that I was getting oldbefore I had discovered it myself, and she had come to my cottage towheedle me (if I may use such an expression) into giving up my hardout-of-door work as bailiff, and taking my ease for the rest of mydays as steward in the house. I made as good a fight of it against theindignity of taking my ease as I could. But my mistress knew the weakside of me; she put it as a favour to herself. The dispute between usended, after that, in my wiping my eyes, like an old fool, with my newwoollen waistcoat, and saying I would think about it.
The perturbation in my mind, in regard to thinking about it, being trulydreadful after my lady had gone away, I applied the remedy which I havenever yet found to fail me in cases of doubt and emergency. I smoked apipe and took a turn at ROBINSON CRUSOE. Before I had occupied myselfwith that extraordinary book five minutes, I came on a comforting bit(page one hundred and fifty-eight), as follows: "To-day we love, whatto-morrow we hate." I saw my way clear directly. To-day I was all forcontinuing to be farm-bailiff; to-morrow, on the authority of ROBINSONCRUSOE, I should be all the other way. Take myself to-morrow while into-morrow's humour, and the thing was done. My mind being relievedin this manner, I went to sleep that night in the character of LadyVerinder's farm bailiff, and I woke up the next morning in the characterof Lady Verinder's house-steward. All quite comfortable, and all throughROBINSON CRUSOE!
My daughter Penelope has just looked over my shoulder to see what I havedone so far. She remarks that it is beautifully written, and every wordof it true. But she points out one objection. She says what I have doneso far isn't in the least what I was wanted to do. I am asked to tellthe story of the Diamond and, instead of that, I have been telling thestory of my own self. Curious, and quite beyond me to account for. Iwonder whether the gentlemen who make a business and a living out ofwriting books, ever find their own selves getting in the way of theirsubjects, like me? If they do, I can feel for them. In the meantime,here is another false start, and more waste of good writing-paper.What's to be done now? Nothing that I know of, except for you to keepyour temper, and for me to begin it all over again for the third time.
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