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Authors: Elizabeth Gaskell

My Lady Ludlow (18 page)

BOOK: My Lady Ludlow
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She was going into a cottage, and in the doorway met the good woman
chasing out a duck, and apparently unconscious of her visitor.

"Get out, Miss Galindo!" she cried, addressing the duck. "Get out! O, I
ask your pardon," she continued, as if seeing the lady for the first
time. "It's only that weary duck will come in. Get out Miss Gal—" (to
the duck).

"And so you call it after, me, do you?" inquired her visitor.

"O, yes, ma'am; my master would have it so, for he said, sure enough the
unlucky bird was always poking herself where she was not wanted."

"Ha, ha! very good! And so your master is a wit, is he? Well! tell him
to come up and speak to me to-night about my parlour chimney, for there
is no one like him for chimney doctoring."

And the master went up, and was so won over by Miss Galindo's merry ways,
and sharp insight into the mysteries of his various kinds of business (he
was a mason, chimney-sweeper, and ratcatcher), that he came home and
abused his wife the next time she called the duck the name by which he
himself had christened her.

But odd as Miss Galindo was in general, she could be as well-bred a lady
as any one when she chose. And choose she always did when my Lady Ludlow
was by. Indeed, I don't know the man, woman, or child, that did not
instinctively turn out its best side to her ladyship. So she had no
notion of the qualities which, I am sure, made Mr. Horner think that Miss
Galindo would be most unmanageable as a clerk, and heartily wish that the
idea had never come into my lady's head. But there it was; and he had
annoyed her ladyship already more than he liked to-day, so he could not
directly contradict her, but only urge difficulties which he hoped might
prove insuperable. But every one of them Lady Ludlow knocked down.
Letters to copy? Doubtless. Miss Galindo could come up to the Hall; she
should have a room to herself; she wrote a beautiful hand; and writing
would save her eyesight. "Capability with regard to accounts?" My lady
would answer for that too; and for more than Mr. Horner seemed to think
it necessary to inquire about. Miss Galindo was by birth and breeding a
lady of the strictest honour, and would, if possible, forget the
substance of any letters that passed through her hands; at any rate, no
one would ever hear of them again from her. "Remuneration?" Oh! as for
that, Lady Ludlow would herself take care that it was managed in the most
delicate manner possible. She would send to invite Miss Galindo to tea
at the Hall that very afternoon, if Mr. Horner would only give her
ladyship the slightest idea of the average length of time that my lady
was to request Miss Galindo to sacrifice to her daily. "Three hours!
Very well." Mr. Horner looked very grave as he passed the windows of the
room where I lay. I don't think he liked the idea of Miss Galindo as a
clerk.

Lady Ludlow's invitations were like royal commands. Indeed, the village
was too quiet to allow the inhabitants to have many evening engagements
of any kind. Now and then, Mr. and Mrs. Horner gave a tea and supper to
the principal tenants and their wives, to which the clergyman was
invited, and Miss Galindo, Mrs. Medlicott, and one or two other spinsters
and widows. The glory of the supper-table on these occasions was
invariably furnished by her ladyship: it was a cold roasted peacock, with
his tail stuck out as if in life. Mrs. Medlicott would take up the whole
morning arranging the feathers in the proper semicircle, and was always
pleased with the wonder and admiration it excited. It was considered a
due reward and fitting compliment to her exertions that Mr. Horner always
took her in to supper, and placed her opposite to the magnificent dish,
at which she sweetly smiled all the time they were at table. But since
Mrs. Horner had had the paralytic stroke these parties had been given up;
and Miss Galindo wrote a note to Lady Ludlow in reply to her invitation,
saying that she was entirely disengaged, and would have great pleasure in
doing herself the honour of waiting upon her ladyship.

Whoever visited my lady took their meals with her, sitting on the dais,
in the presence of all my former companions. So I did not see Miss
Galindo until some time after tea; as the young gentlewomen had had to
bring her their sewing and spinning, to hear the remarks of so competent
a judge. At length her ladyship brought her visitor into the room where
I lay,—it was one of my bad days, I remember,—in order to have her
little bit of private conversation. Miss Galindo was dressed in her best
gown, I am sure, but I had never seen anything like it except in a
picture, it was so old-fashioned. She wore a white muslin apron,
delicately embroidered, and put on a little crookedly, in order, as she
told us, even Lady Ludlow, before the evening was over, to conceal a spot
whence the colour had been discharged by a lemon-stain. This crookedness
had an odd effect, especially when I saw that it was intentional; indeed,
she was so anxious about her apron's right adjustment in the wrong place,
that she told us straight out why she wore it so, and asked her ladyship
if the spot was properly hidden, at the same time lifting up her apron
and showing her how large it was.

"When my father was alive, I always took his right arm, so, and used to
remove any spotted or discoloured breadths to the left side, if it was a
walking-dress. That's the convenience of a gentleman. But widows and
spinsters must do what they can. Ah, my dear (to me)! when you are
reckoning up the blessings in your lot,—though you may think it a hard
one in some respects,—don't forget how little your stockings want
darning, as you are obliged to lie down so much! I would rather knit two
pairs of stockings than darn one, any day."

"Have you been doing any of your beautiful knitting lately?" asked my
lady, who had now arranged Miss Galindo in the pleasantest chair, and
taken her own little wicker-work one, and, having her work in her hands,
was ready to try and open the subject.

"No, and alas! your ladyship. It is partly the hot weather's fault, for
people seem to forget that winter must come; and partly, I suppose, that
every one is stocked who has the money to pay four-and-sixpence a pair
for stockings."

"Then may I ask if you have any time in your active days at liberty?"
said my lady, drawing a little nearer to her proposal, which I fancy she
found it a little awkward to make.

"Why, the village keeps me busy, your ladyship, when I have neither
knitting or sewing to do. You know I took X. for my letter at the
repository, because it stands for Xantippe, who was a great scold in old
times, as I have learnt. But I'm sure I don't know how the world would
get on without scolding, your ladyship. It would go to sleep, and the
sun would stand still."

"I don't think I could bear to scold, Miss Galindo," said her ladyship,
smiling.

"No! because your ladyship has people to do it for you. Begging your
pardon, my lady, it seems to me the generality of people may be divided
into saints, scolds, and sinners. Now, your ladyship is a saint, because
you have a sweet and holy nature, in the first place; and have people to
do your anger and vexation for you, in the second place. And Jonathan
Walker is a sinner, because he is sent to prison. But here am I, half
way, having but a poor kind of disposition at best, and yet hating sin,
and all that leads to it, such as wasting, and extravagance, and
gossiping,—and yet all this lies right under my nose in the village, and
I am not saint enough to be vexed at it; and so I scold. And though I
had rather be a saint, yet I think I do good in my way."

"No doubt you do, dear Miss Galindo," said Lady Ludlow. "But I am sorry
to hear that there is so much that is bad going on in the village,—very
sorry."

"O, your ladyship! then I am sorry I brought it out. It was only by way
of saying, that when I have no particular work to do at home, I take a
turn abroad, and set my neighbours to rights, just by way of steering
clear of Satan.

For Satan finds some mischief still
For idle hands to do,

you know, my lady."

There was no leading into the subject by delicate degrees, for Miss
Galindo was evidently so fond of talking, that, if asked a question, she
made her answer so long, that before she came to an end of it, she had
wandered far away from the original starting point. So Lady Ludlow
plunged at once into what she had to say.

"Miss Galindo, I have a great favour to ask of you."

"My lady, I wish I could tell you what a pleasure it is to hear you say
so," replied Miss Galindo, almost with tears in her eyes; so glad were we
all to do anything for her ladyship, which could be called a free service
and not merely a duty.

"It is this. Mr. Horner tells me that the business-letters, relating to
the estate, are multiplying so much that he finds it impossible to copy
them all himself, and I therefore require the services of some
confidential and discreet person to copy these letters, and occasionally
to go through certain accounts. Now, there is a very pleasant little
sitting-room very near to Mr. Horner's office (you know Mr. Horner's
office—on the other side of the stone hall?), and if I could prevail
upon you to come here to breakfast and afterwards sit there for three
hours every morning, Mr. Horner should bring or send you the papers—"

Lady Ludlow stopped. Miss Galindo's countenance had fallen. There was
some great obstacle in her mind to her wish for obliging Lady Ludlow.

"What would Sally do?" she asked at length. Lady Ludlow had not a notion
who Sally was. Nor if she had had a notion, would she have had a
conception of the perplexities that poured into Miss Galindo's mind, at
the idea of leaving her rough forgetful dwarf without the perpetual
monitorship of her mistress. Lady Ludlow, accustomed to a household
where everything went on noiselessly, perfectly, and by clock-work,
conducted by a number of highly-paid, well-chosen, and accomplished
servants, had not a conception of the nature of the rough material from
which her servants came. Besides, in her establishment, so that the
result was good, no one inquired if the small economies had been observed
in the production. Whereas every penny—every halfpenny, was of
consequence to Miss Galindo; and visions of squandered drops of milk and
wasted crusts of bread filled her mind with dismay. But she swallowed
all her apprehensions down, out of her regard for Lady Ludlow, and desire
to be of service to her. No one knows how great a trial it was to her
when she thought of Sally, unchecked and unscolded for three hours every
morning. But all she said was—

"'Sally, go to the Deuce.' I beg your pardon, my lady, if I was talking
to myself; it's a habit I have got into of keeping my tongue in practice,
and I am not quite aware when I do it. Three hours every morning! I
shall be only too proud to do what I can for your ladyship; and I hope
Mr. Horner will not be too impatient with me at first. You know,
perhaps, that I was nearly being an authoress once, and that seems as if
I was destined to 'employ my time in writing.'"

"No, indeed; we must return to the subject of the clerkship afterwards,
if you please. An authoress, Miss Galindo! You surprise me!"

"But, indeed, I was. All was quite ready. Doctor Burney used to teach
me music: not that I ever could learn, but it was a fancy of my poor
father's. And his daughter wrote a book, and they said she was but a
very young lady, and nothing but a music-master's daughter; so why should
not I try?"

"Well?"

"Well! I got paper and half-a-hundred good pens, a bottle of ink, all
ready—"

"And then—"

"O, it ended in my having nothing to say, when I sat down to write. But
sometimes, when I get hold of a book, I wonder why I let such a poor
reason stop me. It does not others."

"But I think it was very well it did, Miss Galindo," said her ladyship.
"I am extremely against women usurping men's employments, as they are
very apt to do. But perhaps, after all, the notion of writing a book
improved your hand. It is one of the most legible I ever saw."

"I despise z's without tails," said Miss Galindo, with a good deal of
gratified pride at my lady's praise. Presently, my lady took her to look
at a curious old cabinet, which Lord Ludlow had picked up at the Hague;
and while they were out of the room on this errand, I suppose the
question of remuneration was settled, for I heard no more of it.

When they came back, they were talking of Mr. Gray. Miss Galindo was
unsparing in her expressions of opinion about him: going much farther
than my lady—in her language, at least.

"A little blushing man like him, who can't say bo to a goose without
hesitating and colouring, to come to this village—which is as good a
village as ever lived—and cry us down for a set of sinners, as if we had
all committed murder and that other thing!—I have no patience with him,
my lady. And then, how is he to help us to heaven, by teaching us our, a
b, ab—b a, ba? And yet, by all accounts, that's to save poor children's
souls. O, I knew your ladyship would agree with me. I am sure my mother
was as good a creature as ever breathed the blessed air; and if she's not
gone to heaven I don't want to go there; and she could not spell a letter
decently. And does Mr. Gray think God took note of that?"

"I was sure you would agree with me, Miss Galindo," said my lady. "You
and I can remember how this talk about education—Rousseau, and his
writings—stirred up the French people to their Reign of Terror, and all
those bloody scenes."

"I'm afraid that Rousseau and Mr. Gray are birds of a feather," replied
Miss Galindo, shaking her head. "And yet there is some good in the young
man too. He sat up all night with Billy Davis, when his wife was fairly
worn out with nursing him."

"Did he, indeed!" said my lady, her face lighting up, as it always did
when she heard of any kind or generous action, no matter who performed
it. "What a pity he is bitten with these new revolutionary ideas, and is
so much for disturbing the established order of society!"

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