Castle Rackrent [38]
bandbox is wet through, and my best bonnet here spoiled, besides my lady's, and all by the rain coming in through that gallery window that you might have got mended if you'd had any sense, Thady, all the time we were in town in the winter?'
'Sure, I could not get the glazier, ma'am,' says I.
'You might have stopped it up anyhow,' says she.
'So I, did, ma'am, to the best of my ability; one of the panes with the old pillow-case, and the other with a piece of the old stage green curtain. Sure I was as careful as possible all the time you were away, and not a drop of rain came in at that window of all the windows in the house, all winter, ma'am, when under my care; and now the family's come home, and it's summer-time, I never thought no more about it, to be sure; but dear, it's a pity to think of your bonnet, ma'am. But here's what will please you, ma'am--a letter from Mount Juliet's Town for my lady.
With that she snatches it from me without a word more, and runs up the back stairs to my mistress; I follows with a slate to make up the window. This window was in the long passage, or gallery, as my lady gave out orders to have it called, in the gallery leading to my master's bedchamber and hers. And when I went up with the slate, the door having no lock, and the bolt spoilt, was ajar after Mrs. Jane, and, as I was busy with the window, I heard all that was saying within.
'Well, what's in your letter, Bella, my dear?' says he: 'you're a long time spelling it over.'
'Won't you shave this morning, Sir Condy?' says she, and put the letter into her pocket.
'I shaved the day before yesterday,' said he, 'my dear, and that's not what I'm thinking of now; but anything to oblige you, and to have peace and quietness, my dear'--and presently I had a glimpse of him at the cracked glass over the chimney-piece, standing up shaving himself to please my lady. But she took no notice, but went on reading her book, and Mrs, Jane doing her hair behind.
'What is it you're reading there, my dear?--phoo, I've cut myself with this razor; the man's a cheat that sold it me, but I have not paid him for it yet. What is it you're reading there? Did you hear me asking you, my dear?'
'THE SORROWS OF WERTHER,' replies my lady, as well as I could hear.
'I think more of the sorrows of Sir Condy,' says my master, joking like. 'What news from Mount Juliet's Town?'
'No news,' says she, 'but the old story over again; my friends all reproaching me still for what I can't help now.'
'Is it for marrying me?' said my master, still shaving. 'What signifies, as you say, talking of that, when it can't be help'd now?'
With that she heaved a great sigh that I heard plain enough in the passage.
'And did not you use me basely, Sir Condy,' says she, 'not to tell me you were ruined before I married you?'
'Tell you, my dear!' said he. 'Did you ever ask me one word about it. And had not your friends enough of your own, that were telling you nothing else from morning to night, if you'd have listened to them slanders?'
'No slanders, nor are my friends slanderers; and I can't bear to hear them treated with disrespect as I do,' says my lady, and took out her pocket-handkerchief; 'they are the best of friends, and if I had taken their advice--But my father was wrong to lock me up, I own. That was the only unkind thing I can charge him with; for if he had not locked me up, I should never have had a serious thought of running away as I did.'
'Well, my dear,' said my master, 'don't cry and make yourself uneasy about it now, when it's all over, and you have the man of your own choice, in spite of 'em all.'
'I was too young, I know, to make a choice at the time you ran away with me, I'm sure,' says my lady, and another sigh, which made my master, half-shaved as he was, turn round upon her in surprise.
'Why, Bell,' says he, 'you can't deny what you know as well as I do, that it was at your own particular desire, and that twice under your own hand and seal expressed, that I should carry you off as I did to Scotland, and marry
'Sure, I could not get the glazier, ma'am,' says I.
'You might have stopped it up anyhow,' says she.
'So I, did, ma'am, to the best of my ability; one of the panes with the old pillow-case, and the other with a piece of the old stage green curtain. Sure I was as careful as possible all the time you were away, and not a drop of rain came in at that window of all the windows in the house, all winter, ma'am, when under my care; and now the family's come home, and it's summer-time, I never thought no more about it, to be sure; but dear, it's a pity to think of your bonnet, ma'am. But here's what will please you, ma'am--a letter from Mount Juliet's Town for my lady.
With that she snatches it from me without a word more, and runs up the back stairs to my mistress; I follows with a slate to make up the window. This window was in the long passage, or gallery, as my lady gave out orders to have it called, in the gallery leading to my master's bedchamber and hers. And when I went up with the slate, the door having no lock, and the bolt spoilt, was ajar after Mrs. Jane, and, as I was busy with the window, I heard all that was saying within.
'Well, what's in your letter, Bella, my dear?' says he: 'you're a long time spelling it over.'
'Won't you shave this morning, Sir Condy?' says she, and put the letter into her pocket.
'I shaved the day before yesterday,' said he, 'my dear, and that's not what I'm thinking of now; but anything to oblige you, and to have peace and quietness, my dear'--and presently I had a glimpse of him at the cracked glass over the chimney-piece, standing up shaving himself to please my lady. But she took no notice, but went on reading her book, and Mrs, Jane doing her hair behind.
'What is it you're reading there, my dear?--phoo, I've cut myself with this razor; the man's a cheat that sold it me, but I have not paid him for it yet. What is it you're reading there? Did you hear me asking you, my dear?'
'THE SORROWS OF WERTHER,' replies my lady, as well as I could hear.
'I think more of the sorrows of Sir Condy,' says my master, joking like. 'What news from Mount Juliet's Town?'
'No news,' says she, 'but the old story over again; my friends all reproaching me still for what I can't help now.'
'Is it for marrying me?' said my master, still shaving. 'What signifies, as you say, talking of that, when it can't be help'd now?'
With that she heaved a great sigh that I heard plain enough in the passage.
'And did not you use me basely, Sir Condy,' says she, 'not to tell me you were ruined before I married you?'
'Tell you, my dear!' said he. 'Did you ever ask me one word about it. And had not your friends enough of your own, that were telling you nothing else from morning to night, if you'd have listened to them slanders?'
'No slanders, nor are my friends slanderers; and I can't bear to hear them treated with disrespect as I do,' says my lady, and took out her pocket-handkerchief; 'they are the best of friends, and if I had taken their advice--But my father was wrong to lock me up, I own. That was the only unkind thing I can charge him with; for if he had not locked me up, I should never have had a serious thought of running away as I did.'
'Well, my dear,' said my master, 'don't cry and make yourself uneasy about it now, when it's all over, and you have the man of your own choice, in spite of 'em all.'
'I was too young, I know, to make a choice at the time you ran away with me, I'm sure,' says my lady, and another sigh, which made my master, half-shaved as he was, turn round upon her in surprise.
'Why, Bell,' says he, 'you can't deny what you know as well as I do, that it was at your own particular desire, and that twice under your own hand and seal expressed, that I should carry you off as I did to Scotland, and marry