The Gold that Glitters Part 8

"Well, I don't know; I shouldn't be sorry if she did," answered Jenny.

"Very like not; you think you'd go withal. But I can tell you it is vastly dull for us left behind. There's a bit of life when she is here."

Jenny went up to Mrs Jane's room, where she occupied herself by tacking clean white ruffles into some of her mistress's gowns. She had not progressed far when that young lady came up, with a very disturbed face.

"Let those be," she said, seeing how Jenny was employed. "Jenny, child, I am grieved to tell thee, but thou must needs return to thine own home."

"Send me away!" gasped Jenny. "Oh, Mrs Jane, madam, what have I done!"

"Nothing, child, nothing; 'tis not that. I am going away myself."

"And mustn't I go with you?" asked Jenny, in a very disappointed tone.

"To France? We are going to France, child."

Jenny felt in a whirl of astonishment. Going abroad in those days was looked on as a very serious matter, not to be undertaken except for some important reason, and requiring a great deal of deliberation. And here was Mrs Jane, after scarcely half-an-hour's reflection, announcing that she was going to start at once for France.

Mrs Jane put her hand in her pocket.

"Here be thy wages, Jenny," she said. "Twelve pound by the year we agreed on, and thou hast been with me scarce a year; howbeit, twelve pound let it be. And for the ill-conveniency I put thee to, to send thee away thus suddenly, thou shalt have another pound, and my flowered tabby gown. Thou wilt soon win another place if thou list to tarry in service, and my mother hath promised to commend thee heartily to any gentlewoman that would have thee.

"So cheer up, child; there is no need for thee to fret."

Jenny felt as if she had considerable need to fret. Here were all her distinctions flying away from her at a minute's notice. Instead of being Mrs Jenny, and sitting in the drawing-room at Bentley Hall, she would once more be plain Jenny Lavender in the farmhouse kitchen. It was true her freedom would return to her; but by this time she had become accustomed to the restraint, and did not mind it nearly so much.

The tears overflowed and ran down.

"Come, come, child!" said Mrs Jane, giving her a gentle pat on the shoulder; "take not on thus, prithee. Thy life is yet before thee.

Cheer up and play the woman! Ah, Jenny, maid, 'tis well for thee thou art not so high up as some I could name, and therefore shalt fall the lighter. Now go, and pack up thy mails, and Robin shall take thee and them to the farm this evening."

"Must I go to-day, madam?" exclaimed Jenny, more dismayed than ever.

"I go myself to-day, Jenny," said Mrs Jane, gently but gravely. "The matter will brook no delay. Take thine heart to thee, and do as I bid thee: thou wert best be out of it all."

Poor Jenny went slowly up to the garret to fetch her bags, which had been stowed there out of the way.

As she came down with them in her hands, she met Millicent.

"You've had warning, have you?" said Millicent, in a whisper. "There's somewhat wrong, you take my word for it! You make haste and get away, and thank your stars you've a good home to go to. We're all to go, every soul save two--old Master's Diggory and me."

"What, Mr Featherstone too?" exclaimed Jenny.

"Oh, he's going with the Colonel to France. But Master and Madam, they set forth to-morrow, and Diggory and I go with them. Mark my words, there's somewhat wrong! and if it goes much further, I shall just give my warning and be off. I've no notion of getting into trouble for other folks."

"But whatever is it all about?" said Jenny.

"Well, if you want my thoughts on it," whispered Millicent, in an important tone, "I believe it's all 'long of that Jackson. You thought he was a decent sort of fellow, you know. But you've to learn yet, Jenny Lavender, as all isn't gold as glitters."

"I think I'm finding that out, Mrs Millicent," sighed Jenny; "didn't I think I was made for life no further back than yesterday? However, there's no time to waste."

She packed up her things, and made a hurried dinner; took leave of all in the house, not without tears; and then, mounting Bay Winchester behind Robin Featherstone, rode home in the cool of the evening.

"Farewell, sweetheart!" said Featherstone, gallantly kissing Jenny's fingers. "I go to France, but I leave my heart in Staffordshire. Pray you, sweet Mrs Jenny, what shall I bring you for a fairing from the gay city of Paris? How soon we shall return the deer knows; but you will wait for your faithful Robin?" And Mr Featherstone laid his hand elegantly on his heart.

"Oh, you'll forget all about me when you are over there taking your pleasure," said Jenny, in a melancholy tone.

Mr Featherstone was only half through a fervent a.s.severation to the effect that such a catastrophe was a complete impossibility, when Farmer Lavender came out.

"What, Jenny I come to look at us?" said he. "Thou'rt as welcome, my la.s.s, as flowers in May. But how's this--bags and all? Thou'st never been turned away, child?"

"Not for nought ill, father," said Jenny, almost crying with conflicting feelings; "but Mrs Jane, she's going to France, and all's that upset--"

and Jenny sobbed too much to proceed.

Mr Featherstone came to the rescue, and explained matters.

"Humph!" said the farmer; "that's it, is it? World's upset, pretty nigh, seems to me. Well, folks can't always help themselves--that's true enough. Howbeit, thou'rt welcome home, Jenny! there's always a place for thee here, if there's none anywhere else. You'll come in and take a snack, Mr Featherstone?"

Mr Featherstone declined with effusive thanks. He had not a moment to spare. He remounted Winchester, shook hands with the farmer, kissed his hand to Jenny, and rode away. And the question whether Jenny would wait for his return was left unanswered.

"I'm glad to see thee back, my la.s.s," said old Mrs Lavender. "Home's the best place for young la.s.ses. Maybe, too, thou'lt be safer at the farm than at the Hall. The times be troublous; and if more mischief's like to overtake the Colonel, though I shall be sorry enough to see it, I shan't be sorry to know thou art out of it. Art thou glad to come back or not, my la.s.s?"

"I don't know, Granny," said Jenny.

Kate laughed. "Have you had your fling and come down, Jenny?" she asked; "or haven't you had fling enough?--which is it?"

"I think it's a bit of both," said Jenny. "It's grand to be at the Hall, and ride in the coach, and sit in the pew at church, and that; but I used to get dreadful tired by times, it seemed so dull. There's a deal more fun here, and I'm freer like. But--"

Jenny left her "but" unfinished.

"Ay, there's a many buts, I shouldn't wonder," said Kate, laughing.

"Well, Jenny, you've seen somewhat of high life, and you've got it to talk about."

Jenny felt very sad when she went to church on the following Sunday.

The Hall pew was empty, and Jenny herself was once more a mere n.o.body in the corner of her father's seat. There was no coach to ride in; and very humiliated she felt when Dorothy Campion gave her a smart blow on the back as she went down the churchyard.

"Well, _Mrs_. Jenny! so you've come down from your pedestal? Going to be very grand, weren't you?--couldn't see your old acquaintances last Sunday! But hey, presto, all is changed, and my fine young madam come down to a farmhouse la.s.s.

"How was it, Jenny? Did Mrs Jane catch you at the mirror, trying on her sky-coloured gown? or had her necklace slipped into your pocket by accident? Come, tell us all about it."

"She gave me a gown, then," said Jenny, with spirit; "and that's more, I guess, than she ever did to you, Dolly Campion. And as for why I'm come home, it's neither here nor there. Mrs Jane's a-going to France, to be one of the Queen's ladies, maybe, and that's why; so you can take your change out o' that."

Miss Campion immediately proceeded to take her change out of it.

"Dear heart, Jenny, and why ever didn't you go and be one of the Queen's ladies, too?"

"Oh, she's climbed up so high, queens isn't good enough company for her," suggested Abigail Walker, coming to Dolly's help.

"Now, you two go your ways like tidy maids," said the voice of Tom Fenton behind them; "and don't make such a to-do of a Sabbath morning.