Medoline Selwyn's Work Part 4

"I presume she was a very good wife."

"I don't know. Men generally frets hardest after the uselessest ones. I s'pose it's because they're easy-going and good-natured; but laws, I mustn't be hard. Mother-in-laws don't see with their children's eyes. I often think, in some ways, 'twould be best for one generation to die off afore the next takes their place. It's a mercy we don't live like they did in the first of Bible times. For poor women folk's life ain't much after fifty any way, specially if they're depending on their children.

Hard work, shoved in a corner, and the bite you eat begrudged you."

"Surely you don't speak from experience," I gasped, quite horrified.

"Me? Oh, no. I've managed better'n most in my way of life. I help, instead of getting help. But I'm not thinking of myself all the time.

I see other women's hardships, and pity 'em too."

She turned the conversation abruptly by asking:

"Would you like to see the corpse?"

I certainly wished to see almost anything on earth rather than that; but, lest I should be offending the proprieties, I followed her and stood beside the still, outstretched form. She turned down the sheet when, for an instant, my head swam; and then I shut firmly my eyes and stood until I concluded the ghastly spectacle was hidden behind the sheet. Mrs.

Blake's voice caused me to open my eyes with a start.

"Be you faint?"

I crossed the room directly, and sat down before I replied.

"Certainly not; but the sight was a painful one."

"I know there's a sight of difference in corpses. Perfessors of religion make the peacefullest."

"Was she not one?"

"Well, no; and she was took so bad she hadn't time to perfess. Beside Dan'el tells me she suffered uncommon till the very last breath, that makes her look more distressin' than she would."

"Is he a professor?"

"No, my family didn't seem to lean that way. But my! they was a sight better'n some that did let on they was very good."

"He will become a Christian now, surely."

"Tain't likely. One soon forgets the feelins death leaves, and then we all look for a quiet spell afore we die." I felt as if skeleton fingers were clutching at my vitals; and altogether terrified I rose to go.

"The funeral will be to-morrow at two o'clock; perhaps you wouldn't mind coming?"

"If you would like me to attend, I will do so."

"I don't know why it is, but seems to me it would be a comfort to have you. Quality always could touch my heart better'n my own kind."

"You may be reckoned among that cla.s.s in the next world."

She stood in the doorway, her eyes turned wistfully towards the setting sun. "I hain't thought much about that world. I know it's a mistake to live as I've done."

I wished so much I could recommend her to a better way of life; but remembering that I too was living only for this world, I could say nothing.

Pressing her hand gently I turned to leave, when I saw Esmerelda coming out of the door after me.

The rigid form I had looked at and Mrs. Blake's words had softened my heart; so I tried once more to chat pleasantly with my escort; but probably she had not got the same lesson as I, for she put on as many airs as before. When I met Mrs. Flaxman I inquired what Esmerelda's position was in the household. To my astonishment she said:

"She is the chambermaid."

"But is she a lady?"

"Every one that can dress becomingly claims that t.i.tle with us; I presume Esmerelda with the rest."

"But her mother?" I left the sentence unfinished.

"Lives on Mill Road and takes in washing."

"Don't you think it is wiser to keep servants in their proper place as they do in Europe? One is not in danger there of mistaking maid for mistress."

"Ah, that is a problem for wiser heads than ours to solve. Each system has its grievances; if human nature had not suffered so severely from the original transgression I should favor the American plan."

"But it has fallen, and requires generations of training to fit one for such a.s.sumption of dignity."

"Even so, we come on debatable ground. Where do you find longer lines of trained generations than in those Royal families that cost you so much to support, and what do many of them amount to? How many of them would it take to make one Lincoln? He was a peasant's son, as they reckon rank."

"But there are not many Lincolns; and I fear we can find a good many Esmereldas."

"She is a very good chambermaid. What fault do you find with her?"

I smiled, though utterly discomfited.

"A fault one cannot easily forgive. She impresses me with her own superiority, especially in the matter of dress."

"Yes, our shop and servant girls are usually good artists in the matter of personal attire; but I usually find the really clever ones are the poorest dressers."

"Is not that the case with others than they? Persons who have more enduring objects of contemplation than personal attire do not bestow enough time on how they shall robe themselves to excel in dressing artistically."

"I know that; but since Eve's fig-leaf invention the matter of dress has been an absorbing one for nearly every generation."

"In the main; but there have been beautiful exceptions all down the long stream of the ages. I met some literary women the last time I was visiting in England, and their minds seemed so far superior to their bodies, or the clothes they wore, that ever since I have been ashamed of myself when I get particularly interested in what I am to wear."

"You are young, my child, to begin to philosophize on the matter of clothes. You have read Sartor Resartus?"

"Oh, yes, and I want to be something better than a mere biped without feathers."

"To want is the first step toward the accomplishment. I think you will suit Mr. Winthrop after he gets to know you, if ever he does," she added, after a pause.

CHAPTER IV.

THE FUNERAL.