The Essential W. Somerset Maugham Collection. W. Somerset Maugham
I help you?" said Nora with an effort at conciliation.
"No, thanks."
"No, no. You're company to-night," said her brother with a man's relief at finding an unpleasant situation at an end. "But I daresay to-morrow Gertie'll find plenty for you to do. We'll all be out till dinner time. You girls will have a lot to talk over while you're getting acquainted."
Hornby groaned dismally.
"It doesn't make any difference what the weather is in this blessed country," he said dismally to Nora, "you have to go out whether there's really anything to do or not."
"That's so," laughed Taylor; "still I think you'll admit the Boss always manages to find something to fill up the time."
"That he does," said Hornby with another hollow groan.
"The last time I saw you," said Nora, "you were calling poor old England all sorts of dreadful names. Isn't farming in Canada all your fancy painted it?"
Gertie paused in the act of pouring water from the kettle into the dishpan. "Not a bit like it," she said dryly. "He's like most of the English I've run up against. They think all you've got to do is just to sit down and have afternoon tea and watch the crops grow by themselves."
"Oh, come now, Gertie. You've never had to accuse me of loafing, and I'm an Englishman," said her husband good-naturedly.
"I said 'most.'"
"And as for afternoon tea," broke in Hornby, "I don't believe they have that sacred institution in the whole blessed country."
"You have tea with all your meals. Men out here have something else to do but sit indoors afternoons and eat between meals."
"Do you know," said Nora after a pause, "it isn't nearly so cold as I expected to find it. Don't you usually have it much colder than this?"
"It's rarely colder until later in the season. But Frank, here, who's our champion weather prophet, says it's going to be an exceptional season with hardly any snow at all."
Nora had been conscious all through the evening that Taylor had hardly once taken his eyes from her face. She looked directly at him for the first time, to find him watching her with a look of quiet amusement.
"That would indeed be an exceptional season, if all one hears of the rigors of the climate be true," she said coldly.
"Every season in this country is exceptional," he said humorously; "if it isn't exceptional one way, it's sure to be exceptional the other."
"Fetch me those pants of yours," said Gertie to Trotter.
He left the room, to return shortly with the desired articles, exhibiting a yawning tear in one of the knees. Gertie at once set about mending them in the same workmanlike manner that she did everything.
"Doesn't she ever rest?" asked Nora in an undertone of Hornby.
"Never," he whispered. "Her one recreation is abusing me. I fancy you'll come in for a little of the same medicine. She's planning an amusing winter, I can see that already."
"I think, if I may, I'll ask you to excuse me," said Nora, rising abruptly. "I'm a little tired after my long journey. Oh, how good it'll be to find oneself in a real bed again."
"I'm sure you must be," said her brother. "Nora knows where her room is?" he said, turning to his wife.
"She was up before supper; she can't very well have forgotten the way. The house is small after what she's been accustomed to, I dare say."
"Thank you, I can find it again easily," said Nora hastily. "I'll see you at breakfast, Eddie?" She crossed over to where Gertie was sewing busily. "Good night--Gertie. I hope you will not find me too stupid about learning things. You'll find me willing, anyway," she said almost humbly.
Gertie looked up at her with real kindness.
"Wllling's half the battle," she said in softened tone.
As Nora was leaving the room, satisfied at having done her part as far as Gertie was concerned, she was recalled by Taylor's drawling tone.
"Oh, Miss Nora, you're forgetting something."
"Am I? What?"
"You're forgetting to say 'good night' to me."
"Why, so I am!"
She could hear them laugh as she left the room. And so ended the first day in her brother's house.
Breakfast the next morning was of the most hurried description. Gertie herself did not sit down until the men had gone, being chiefly occupied with baking some sort of hot cakes which were new to Nora, who confined herself to an egg and some tea. She secretly longed for some toast; but as no one else seemed to have any, she refrained from making her wants known. Perhaps later, when she was more familiar with the ways of this strange household, she would be permitted to make some for herself when she wanted it.
While her sister-in-law was eating her breakfast, Nora stood looking out of the window at the vast expanse of snow-covered country with never a house in sight. Already there were signs that Taylor's prophecy would be fulfilled. The sun, which had been up only a few hours, shone brightly, and already the air had lost much of its sharpness. It was distinctly warmer than it had been the day before.
At the first sign that Gertie had finished her breakfast, Nora began to gather the things together for washing, wisely not waiting to ask permission. If possible, Gertie seemed to be less inclined for conversation in the early morning than at night. They finished the task in unbroken silence. When the last dish had been put away, Gertie spoke:
"Can you bake?"
"I have baked cakes."
"How about bread and biscuits?"
"I've never tried them."
"Umph!"
"I should be glad to learn, if you would be good enough to teach me."
"I have little time for teaching," said Gertie ungraciously. "But you can watch how I do it and maybe you'll learn something."
"Can you wash and iron?" said Gertie while she was kneading her dough.
"Of course I can iron and I can wash lace."
"People round here wear more flannel shirts than lace. I suppose you never washed any flannels?"
"No, never."
"Have you ever done any scrubbing?"
"Of course not." Nora was beginning to find this catechism a little trying.
"Not work for a lady, I suppose. Just what does a companion do?"
"It depends. She does whatever her employer requires; reads aloud, acts as secretary, goes riding and shopping with the lady she lives with, arranges the flowers, everything of that sort."
"Oh. But nothing really useful."
Nora gave an angry laugh. "It's clear that some people consider a companion's work useful, since they employ them."
"You take pay for it; after all, it's much the same as being a servant."
"It's not at all the same."
"Ed tells me that sometimes when Miss Wickers, Wickham--whatever her name was----"
"Miss Wickham."
"That when Miss Wickham had company for dinner, you had to have your dinner alone."
"That is true."
"Then she considered you