The Lady's Maid

by Katherine Mansfield

　　

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Eleven o'clock. A knock at the door ... I hope I haven't disturbed you, madam.You weren't asleep - were you? But I've just given my lady her tea, and therewas such a nice cup over, I thought, perhaps ...... Not at all, madam. I always make a cup of tea last thing. She drinks it inbed after her prayers to warm her up. I put the kettle on when she kneels downand I say to it, "Now you needn't be in too much of a hurry to say yourprayers." But it's always boiling before my lady is half through. You see,madam, we know such a lot of people, and they've all got to be prayed for -every one. My lady keeps a list of the names in a little red book. Oh dear!whenever some one new has been to see us and my lady says afterwards, "Ellen,give me my little red book," I feel quite wild, I do. "There's another," Ithink, "keeping her out of her bed in all weathers." And she won't have acushion, you know, madam; she kneels on the hard carpet. It fidgets mesomething dreadful to see her, knowing her as I do. I've tried to cheat her;I've spread out the eiderdown. But the first time I did it - oh, she gave mesuch a look - holy it was, madam. "Did our Lord have an eiderdown, Ellen?" shesaid. But - I was younger at the time - I felt inclined to say, "No, but ourLord wasn't your age, and he didn't know what it was to have your lumbago."Wicked - wasn't it? But she's too good, you know, madam. When I tucked her upjust now and seen - saw her lying back, her hands outside and her head on thepillow - so pretty - I couldn't help thinking, "Now you look just like your dearmother when I laid her out!"... Yes, madam, it was all left to me. Oh, she did look sweet. I did herhair, soft-like, round her forehead, all in dainty curls, and just to one sideof her neck I put a bunch of most beautiful purple pansies. Those pansies madea picture of her, madam! I shall never forget them. I thought to-night, when Ilooked at my lady, "Now, if only the pansies was there no one could tell thedifference."... Only the last year, madam. Only after she'd got a little - well - feeble asyou might say. Of course, she was never dangerous; she was the sweetest oldlady. But how it took her was - she thought she'd lost something. She couldn'tkeep still, she couldn't settle. All day long she'd be up and down, up anddown; you'd meet her everywhere, - on the stairs, in the porch, making for thekitchen. And she'd look up at you, and she'd say - just like a child, "I'velost it, I've lost it." "Come along," I'd say, "come along, and I'll lay outyour patience for you." But she'd catch me by the hand - I was a favourite ofhers - and whisper, "Find it for me, Ellen. Find it for me." Sad, wasn't it?... No, she never recovered, madam. She had a stroke at the end. Last wordsshe ever said was - very slow, "Look in - the - Look - in--" And then she wasgone.... No, madam, I can't say I noticed it. Perhaps some girls. But you see, it'slike this, I've got nobody but my lady. My mother died of consumption when Iwas four, and I lived with my grandfather, who kept a hair-dresser's shop. Iused to spend all my time in the shop under a table dressing my doll's hair -copying the assistants, I suppose. They were ever so kind to me. Used to makeme little wigs, all colours, the latest fashions and all. And there I'd sit allday, quiet as quiet - the customers never knew. Only now and again I'd take mypeep from under the table-cloth.... But one day I managed to get a pair of scissors and - would you believe it,madam? I cut off all my hair; snipped it off all in bits, like the littlemonkey I was. Grandfather was furious! He caught hold of the tongs - I shallnever forget it - grabbed me by the hand and shut my fingers in them. "That'llteach you!" he said. It was a fearful burn. I've got the mark of it to-day.... Well, you see, madam, he'd taken such pride in my hair. He used to sit meup on the counter, before the customers came, and do it something beautiful -big, soft curls and waved over the top. I remember the assistants standinground, and me ever so solemn with the penny grandfather gave me to hold while itwas being done ... But he always took the penny back afterwards. Poorgrandfather! Wild, he was, at the fright I'd made of myself. But he frightenedme that time. Do you know what I did, madam? I ran away. Yes, I did, roundthe corners, in and out, I don't know how far I didn't run. Oh, dear, I musthave looked a sight, with my hand rolled up in my pinny and my hair stickingout. People must have laughed when they saw me ...... No, madam, grandfather never got over it. He couldn't bear the sight of meafter. Couldn't eat his dinner, even, if I was there. So my aunt took me. Shewas a cripple, an upholstress. Tiny! She had to stand on the sofas when shewanted to cut out the backs. And it was helping her I met my lady ...... Not so very, madam. I was thirteen, turned. And I don't remember everfeeling - well - a child, as you might say. You see there was my uniform, andone thing and another. My lady put me into collars and cuffs from the first.Oh yes - once I did! That was - funny! It was like this. My lady had her twolittle nieces staying with her - we were at Sheldon at the time - and there wasa fair on the common."Now, Ellen," she said, "I want you to take the two young ladies for a ride onthe donkeys." Off we went; solemn little loves they were; each had a hand. Butwhen we came to the donkeys they were too shy to go on. So we stood and watchedinstead. Beautiful those donkeys were! They were the first I'd seen out of acart - for pleasure as you might say. They were a lovely silver-grey, withlittle red saddles and blue bridles and bells jing-a-jingling on their ears.And quite big girls - older than me, even - were riding them, ever so gay. Notat all common, I don't mean, madam, just enjoying themselves. And I don't knowwhat it was, but the way the little feet went, and the eyes - so gentle - andthe soft ears - made me want to go on a donkey more than anything in the world!... Of course, I couldn't. I had my young ladies. And what would I have lookedlike perched up there in my uniform? But all the rest of the day it was donkeys- donkeys on the brain with me. I felt I should have burst if I didn't tellsome one; and who was there to tell? But when I went to bed - I was sleeping inMrs. James's bedroom, our cook that was, at the time - as soon as the lights wasout, there they were, my donkeys, jingling along, with their neat little feetand sad eyes ... Well, madam, would you believe it, I waited for a long time andpretended to be asleep, and then suddenly I sat up and called out as loud as Icould, "I do want to go on a donkey. I do want a donkey-ride!" You see, I hadto say it, and I thought they wouldn't laugh at me if they knew I was onlydreaming. Artful - wasn't it? Just what a silly child would think ...... No, madam, never now. Of course, I did think of it at one time. But itwasn't to be. He had a little flower-shop just down the road and across fromwhere we was living. Funny - wasn't it? And me such a one for flowers. Wewere having a lot of company at the time, and I was in and out of the shop moreoften than not, as the saying is. And Harry and I (his name was Harry) got toquarrelling about how things ought to be arranged - and that began it. Flowers!you wouldn't believe it, madam, the flowers he used to bring me. He'd stop atnothing. It was lilies-of-the-valley more than once, and I'm not exaggerating!Well, of course, we were going to be married and live over the shop, and it wasall going to be just so, and I was to have the window to arrange ... Oh, howI've done that window of a Saturday! Not really, of course, madam, justdreaming, as you might say. I've done it for Christmas - motto in holly, andall - and I've had my Easter lilies with a gorgeous star all daffodils in themiddle. I've hung - well, that's enough of that. The day came he was to callfor me to choose the furniture. Shall I ever forget it? It was a Tuesday. Mylady wasn't quite herself that afternoon. Not that she'd said anything, ofcourse; she never does or will. But I knew by the way that she kept wrappingherself up and asking me if it was cold - and her little nose looked ...pinched. I didn't like leaving her; I knew I'd be worrying all the time. Atlast I asked her if she'd rather I put it off. "Oh no, Ellen," she said, "youmustn't mind about me. You mustn't disappoint your young man." And socheerful, you know, madam, never thinking about herself. It made me feel worsethan ever. I began to wonder ... then she dropped her handkerchief and began tostoop down to pick it up herself - a thing she never did. "Whatever are youdoing!" I cried, running to stop her. "Well," she said, smiling, you know,madam, "I shall have to begin to practise." Oh, it was all I could do not toburst out crying. I went over to the dressing-table and made believe to rub upthe silver, and I couldn't keep myself in, and I asked her if she'd rather I ...didn't get married. "No, Ellen," she said - that was her voice, madam, like I'mgiving you - "No, Ellen, not for the wide world!" But while she said it, madam- I was looking in her glass; of course, she didn't know I could see her - sheput her little hand on her heart just like her dear mother used to, and liftedher eyes ... Oh, madam!When Harry came I had his letters all ready, and the ring and a ducky littlebrooch he'd given me - a silver bird it was, with a chain in its beak, and onthe end of the chain a heart with a dagger. Quite the thing! I opened the doorto him. I never gave him time for a word. "There you are," I said. "Take themall back," I said, "it's all over. I'm not going to marry you," I said, "Ican't leave my lady." White! he turned as white as a woman. I had to slam thedoor, and there I stood, all of a tremble, till I knew he had gone. When Iopened the door - believe me or not, madam - that man was gone! I ran out intothe road just as I was, in my apron and my house-shoes, and there I stayed inthe middle of the road ... staring. People must have laughed if they saw me ...... Goodness gracious! - What's that? It's the clock striking! And here I'vebeen keeping you awake. Oh, madam, you ought to have stopped me ... Can I tuckin your feet? I always tuck in my lady's feet, every night, just the same. Andshe says, "Good night, Ellen. Sleep sound and wake early!" I don't know what Ishould do if she didn't say that, now.... Oh dear, I sometimes think ... whatever should I do if anything were to ...But, there, thinking's no good to any one - is it, madam? Thinking won't help.Not that I do it often. And if ever I do I pull myself up sharp, "Now, then,Ellen. At it again - you silly girl! If you can't find anything better to dothan to start thinking! ... "

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