His half-daily visits when he helped to bathe him and talk to him had brought a new interest into his life.
For herself she had discovered something afresh about Mr Burgess. He liked to gossip, and that he brought the news of births, deaths and scandals to the master's ears she was well aware, particularly, she thought, about the scandals because often when she was entering the room Burgess would change the conversation and in a way that wouldn't have deceived a child.
The house, she had felt for weeks, was growing happy. It was cleaner than she had ever seen it. And even at this early time of the year the gardens were looking different. Paths had been weeded, hedges cut, ground that hadn't seen the light of day for years had been cleared. John Hillman was working for his money these days, but he was seeing that all those under him did the same, and the result was pleasing, so much so that Mark had talked of getting a wheel-chair to take him round the grounds, for he couldn't see himself ever being able to stand on false feet which would enable him to use crutches.
So on this bright morning Tilly, excitement and not a little apprehension filling her, was making a tour of the house to see that everything was in order for the arrival of Mrs Forefoot-Meadows and the children. She was as excited about the children coming as was the master.
All the furniture in the dining-room was glowing, the epergne in the centre of the table sprayed out daffodils, and the silver on the long mahogany sideboard gleamed; and in the drawing-room the fire was blazing in the grate, the lace drapes at the long windows had all been washed, the heavy velvet curtains and pelmets had been taken down and brushed, even the tops of the oil paintings surrounding the walls had been dusted. Tilly was satisfied there wasn't a speck of dirt anywhere.
In the hall a big blue vase of ferns banked the great newel post at the bottom of the stairs; the red stair-carpet that was worn in parts had been taken up and relaid and the effect, Tilly thought, was almost like new.
On through the house she went. The nursery floor was in readiness, the room that she had once occupied was now given over to Katie, whose work it would be to tend to the children during their three days" stay in the house.
Her own room now was at the other side of the dressing-room, and she still couldn't get used to the difference. A feather bed, a huge wardrobe with full-length mirrors for doors, a wash hand-stand with her own bowl and jug and a slop bucket so pretty that she hated to pour dirty water into it.
She stood now in front of the mirror. It wasn't often she had time to stand and appraise herself, but when she did she was always surprised at the reflection. She was eighteen but she looked older.
Perhaps it was her uniform, a beautiful uniform, grey alpaca. The waist clung to her like a skin. The skirt wasn't very full; they had wanted to put another panel in it but she had said no. That would, she had thought, be aping the ladies, and she felt she had stepped out of her place enough without her dress causing comment. She was wearing drawers now for the first time in her life, and also boned stays. She didn't mind the drawers but the stays she found cumbersome; yet she wore them because there were what was called suspenders hanging from the bottom and these kept up her white cotton stockings better than garters.
Her cap was different too; this one didn't cover all her hair but sat on the top of it, as she laughingly thought to herself, like a starched crown.
She moved closer to the mirror and touched the skin of her face. Her complexion wasn't bad. She knew she was being mealy-mouthed, but she couldn't say, it's lovely, "cos as her granny would have said, never believe what the mirror tells you 'cos you only see what you want to see.
She now fastened the top button of her dress, smoothed her hands down over her hips, then went out into the corridor, turned into the dressing-room and there paused for a moment to see that everything was in order, then went into the bedroom.
Mr Burgess was sitting by the cane chair and his head was back and he was laughing, and the master was laughing too. His face was flushed, his eyes were bright, and he was looking different this morning, younger. He had taken pains to brush his unruly hair flat across the top of his head. He was wearing a white silk shirt with a ruffle. He had also, she noticed, forced himself to put on trousers, which she considered was a big step forward, for he mostly spent his days in his nightshirt and dressing-gown. However, the small cage this morning was across the bottom of the chair with a rug covering it, but his dress and the way he was sitting gave the impression of wholeness.
"Well, Trotter, done your rounds?"
"Yes, sir."
"Everything in order?"
"As far as I can see, yes, sir."
"And the meals? As much as I enjoy roast beef, roast lamb, meat
puddings and such I don't think they will satisfy my mother-in-law's palate. Have you seen the cook?"
"Yes, sir; we discussed the meals last night."
"And what did you hatch up?"
"Well, sir, Mrs Drew thought of starting with white soup, and then a bit of boiled salmon with sauce, and the main course to be roast chicken with carrots and mashed turnips and other vegetables; then she was making a choice of puddings, cabinet pudding or rhubarb tart and special custard with eggs, I mean made with eggs"--she laughed--"and fruit-she could have a choice-and then there's cheeses."
Mark turned now and looked at Mr Burgess, saying, "What do you think of that, Burgess?"
"It sounds very appetising, sir, very appetising indeed, in fact it's causing my juices to rise."
As he spoke he got to his feet and now looked at Tilly, saying, "I'm sure Mrs Forefoot-Meadows will be pleased."
She did not answer, except that her eyes smiled at him.
Mr Burgess now turned to Mark, saying, "I will leave you now, sir, if I may, but I shall be here in the morning and share your pleasure in seeing the children once again."
"Thank you, Burgess, I'm sure they'll be delighted to see you. And if I'm not mistaken they will wish they were back under your care."
"I would wish that too, sir, but--" he shrugged his shoulders and spread out his hands. "C'est la vie, telle quelle ... telle quelle."
"Yes, indeed, indeed."
Mr Burgess went out and Mark, turning to Tilly, said, "I don't think I've felt so excited about anything since the night Harry was born. And isn't it a bit of luck that he'll be here the day after tomorrow. He'll have one day among them anyway." He turned his head away and looked towards the window, saying now with deep bitterness,
"Three days! Damnable!"
Sensing his changing mood, she went quickly towards the chair and, straightening the cover that had slipped slightly from the cage, she said brightly, "They'll likely make so much narration, sir, that you'll be glad to see the back of them."
His head came round to her sharply and his voice seemed to be censoring the stupidity of her remark when he said, "Yes, as glad as I would be to see the back of you, Trotter."
She stood silent now looking at him as she often did when she thought it was better not to give any answer to his remarks.
"If Mr Burgess had remained a little longer he would have said that that remark of yours was stupid, trite. Do you understand that?"
"All I understand is, sir, that I was aiming to lighten your despair with regard to the children."
His expression altered as he stared at her: there had been spirit in the answer that wouldn't have been there a few months ago. He didn't object
to it, in fact he liked it for he was catching a glimpse of the emerging woman that lay beneath the yes, sir, no, sir, attitude of hers. His voice quiet now, he asked, "If you had four children taken away from you what would you do, Trotter?"
He watched her think a moment before answering, "As
... as I've never had children I cannot tell to what depth my feelings would go. I can just judge on the reactions of Mrs Drew to her family. But I'm not as strong as Mrs Drew so I think I might go mad. Then again, sir, it's a question that is difficult to answer because if I had four children why sho
uld they be taken away?" She felt the blood rushing to her face and her eyes widened as she stared at him; and now his voice ominously quiet, he said, "Go on, finish."
When she didn't speak he supplied the meaning to her words, saying, "You were about to tell me that you would never do anything that would bring about losing your children, was that it?"
She remained mute.
"Well, my answer to that, Trotter, is, you have a long way to go yet and a lot to learn about human nature, and also a great deal to learn about the penalties for sin. Some sentences are out of all proportion to the crime... . What's that?"
He turned quickly and, raising himself on his hands to look over the broad sill of the window, his whole expression changing, he cried, "It's the coach!
It's them. Go on down. Go on down."
She turned from him now and ran out of the room and across the landing and down the stairs. Pike was already waiting; both doors were thrown wide open and there, on the drive, the coach had come to a standstill.
It was her place, she knew, to stand at the top of the steps and welcome Mrs Forefoot-Meadows in, as she had seen Mrs Lucas do, but she so much forgot herself she ran down the steps and it seemed that before she reached the bottom they were around her shouting,
"Hello! Trotter. Hello! Trotter." Even Matthew was smiling.
"Enough! Enough! Behave yourselves." The voice of their grandmother did not immediately quell their boisterous enthusiasm, but they
left Tilly and raced up the steps and into the house; and Tilly, looking at Mrs
Forefoot-Meadows, said, "I hope you had a good journey, madam?"
The surprise of being greeted by this girl seemed to have struck Jane Forefoot-Meadows dumb because she looked from her and up the steps to where Pike was standing; then turning from her without even the acknowledgment of a nod, she swept up to the terrace and passed Pike, saying as she did so, "What's this? What's this?"
"I hope you had a pleasant jour... ."
"Never mind about the journey, where's Mrs Lucas?"
"She's no longer here, madam."
"No longer here!" As she unloosened her cape she looked about her, saying, "And Simes?"
"He's no longer in the master's service either, madam."
"What's going on here?" At the bottom of the stairs she stopped and again she looked around the hall.
The difference in the house was already striking her, yet she couldn't put an actual finger on it.
When a moment or so later she entered Mark's room she put both hands up to her ears, crying,
"Stop it! Stop that noise this instant!" and again the laughter and chatter subsided.
Going towards the chair now, where Mark had Jessie Ann cradled in one arm and John in the other, while the two older boys sat halfway down on either side, she did not ask after her son-in-law's health but said, "What's this I've come across? No housekeeper, no footman, and that girl!"
"It's a long story, Mother-in-law, a long, long story, and you'll hear about it all in good time; but first, get off your feet."
"I've been off my feet for hours, my bones are stiff... . Stop making that racket, John, and speak correctly. Haven't I told you?"
"y ... yes, Gramama."
Mark looked at his small son who no longer seemed so small; not one of his children seemed small now, they had all grown in their different ways. But John's speech was worse than when he had been at home, he was actually stammering now.
"Leave your father alone and get away all of you up to the nursery, and get out of your travelling clothes and don't come downstairs until I give you leave. Away with you now."
Mark bit on his lip as Jessie Ann and John slid from his arms; then Jessie Ann, looking towards the cage, said, "Are your feet still sore, Papa?"
Mark did not take his glance from her and he continued to smile at her as he said, "Yes; yes, they're still sore, my dear."
"Perhaps you want your toe-nails cut, mine stick in me and Willy Nilly digs the scissors in and cuts them off. It hurts... ."
"Who's Willy Nilly?"
It was his mother-in-law who answered now, saying,
"Williams, their nurse. Go on, children, do as you're bid."
And they went scrambling and laughing out of the room, and the noise was like music in his ears, it was as if they had never been away. Yet they had been away and the change in all of them was evident, at least in their growth.
"Well now, what's this? The house is all topsy-turvy."
"No, Mother-in-law, the house is no longer topsy-turvy. The house, I am pleased to say, is being run as it should have been for years."
Her plucked eyebrows moved upwards, the wrinkles around her eyes stretched themselves, and she said one word, "Indeed!"
"Yes, indeed. Sit yourself down and I'll give you all my news. I'm sure you'd like to hear it before you give me yours."
Flinging off her dust-coat, she sat down and she made no comment whatever until Mark had finished outlining the story of the changeover, and then she said, "Pit folk in the house?"
"Yes, as I said; and outside too and doing splendidly."
"It can't work."
"But it does." His voice was high. "And I'm going to tell you something more, at one-third of the cost."
"A third!" She pulled her bony chin into the sagging flesh of her neck that formed a ridge around the high collar of her dress.
"Yes, a third; and from what I gather the whole house is cleaner, and from what I see"--he pointed to the window--"the grounds have been unearthed in all quarters. Then there is the food. The bills have gone down in a remarkable way, for everybody, I understand, eats well, including myself."
"That girl, do you know she was at the bottom of the steps when I got out of the carriage, leaving Pike at the door?"
"Perhaps she wanted to greet you."
"Don't be ridiculous, Mark; she doesn't know her place."
His face and voice lost its pleasantness now as he said sharply, "She knows her place all right. She's running this house, and what's more she's seeing to me."
She almost made to rise; then her mouth opened and closed again on
his words: "She's a better nurse than that big battleship who tended me... ."
"It isn't right, it isn't decent, she's...
."
"Oh, the decencies are seen to by Burgess."
"Burgess ... you mean the tutor?"
"Yes, the tutor. He comes in every day and sees to the main decencies, so have no fear, my dear Mother-in-law, the proprieties are being observed."
"I don't like it." She rose to her feet.
"Neither will Eileen."
"God in Heaven!" It was as if he had been startled by the remark so quickly did he bounce up from the back of the chair. "What's Eileen got to do with it, I ask you?"
"She is still your wife."
"Then if she's my wife she should be here. What do you think I've felt like all these bloody months being left... ."
"I will not have you swearing in my presence, Mark."
"I'll swear where I bloody well like, Mother-in-law, and if it doesn't suit you, you know what you can do. But don't you come here talking about morality or improprieties that would shock my wife, for I won't have it. Her place is here with my children. Three days she has allowed me! My God! if I take it into my head I'll keep them for good and let her fight it out."
"Don't agitate yourself so, Mark, and don't talk nonsense. The children's place is with their mother."
"And her place is here!"
"You should have thought about that some long time ago.
Anyway, I have things to discuss with you, but the time is not now, I am tired after my journey. You don't seem to appreciate, Mark, the trial that journey is to me."
He drew in a number of deep breaths before lowering his head, when he muttered, "I do, I do; and I appreciate the effort you make." Then lifting his head, his voice still quiet, he said, "But can you appreciate what it is like for me to be tied to this chair,
to this room? I've asked myself more and more of late, is it worth going on."
"Don't talk nonsense! I won't stay and listen to such weak prattle; I shall join you later."
As she stormed out he couldn't but marvel at her spirit; no one knew her right age but she couldn't be far from seventy. Had she passed some of it on to her daughter things might have been different. He lay back in his chair and looked towards the cage covering the stumps of his legs. If only he had been left with even one foot. He pulled himself up straight on the chair; he must make an effort and try this wooden leg business.
For two days the house had been alive with scampering feet and laughter. No longer were the children kept to the nursery floor; even Jane Forefoot-Meadows found it impossible to confine them, for as soon as her back was turned they were down in their father's room or out in the grounds, or following Tilly around the house. They had at first viewed with surprise the change in the staff, particularly in the kitchen. They had accepted Katie in the nursery, but who was this little girl no older than Jessie Ann and not as big who was working in the kitchen? And there was no fat woman cooking there now but a tall woman with a big bony face.
During their first encounter Matthew had enquired imperiously of Biddy, "What is your name?" and she had answered, "Biddy, master. What is yours?"
And without hesitation he had said,
"Matthew."
"Well, how are you, Master Matthew?"
"I am very well, thank you." The conversation wasn't going as he imagined it should, and he had turned and looked at his brothers and Jessie Ann, and they had all burst out laughing, and it was Jessie Ann who said, "What are you making for our tea, Mrs Biddy?"
And Biddy had delighted her by bending down and whispering, "Fairy cakes, miss, with cream on their wings."
As Biddy put it to Tilly later, the house was alive with life, and at seven o'clock on the evening of the second day when the life was filling the nursery with laughter it brought Mark's head round towards the dressing-room door, calling, "What's going on up there, Trotter?"
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