Janet's Love and Service. Margaret M. Robertson
through the study-door, pull off Mr. Elliott’s boots as humble as could be.”
“To see that little girl pouring tea when there’s company, and Mrs. Nasmyth not sitting down. It’s ridiculous.”
“I wouldn’t do so for the President!”
“Well, they seem to think everything of her,” said Miss Pettimore, speaking for the first time in this connection.
“Why, yes, she does just what she has a mind to about house. And the way them children hang about her, and fuss over her, I never see. They tell her everything, and these boys mind her, as they do their father.”
“And if any one comes to pay his minister’s tax, it’s always, ‘ask Mrs. Nasmyth,’ or, ‘Mrs. Nasmyth will tell you.’ ”
“They couldn’t get along without her. If I was her I’d show them that I was as good as them, and no servant.”
“She’s used to it. She’s been brought up so. But now that she’s got here, I should think she’d be sick of it.”
“I suppose ‘servant’ there, means pretty much what ‘help’ does here. There don’t seem to be difference enough to talk about,” said Rebecca.
“I see considerable difference,” said Mrs. Merle’s young lady.
“It beats all,” said another.
Yes, it did beat all. It was incomprehensible to these dignified people, how Janet could openly acknowledge herself a servant, and yet retain her self-respect. And that “Mrs. Nasmyth thought considerable of herself,” many of the curious ladies of Merleville had occasion to know. The relations existing between her and “the bairns,” could not easily be understood. She acknowledged herself their servant, yet she reproved them when they deserved it, and that sharply. She enforced obedience to all rules, and governed in all household matters, none seeking to dispute her right. They went to her at all times with their troubles and their pleasures, and she sympathised with them, advised them, or consoled them, as the case might need. That they were as the very apple of her eye, was evident to all, and that they loved her dearly, and respected her entirely, none could fail to see.
There were stories going about in the village to prove that she had a sharp tongue in her head, and this her warmest friends did not seek to deny. Of course, it was the duty of all the female part of the congregation to visit at the minister’s house, and to give such advice and assistance, with regard to the arrangements, as might seem to be required of them. It is possible they took more interest in the matter than if there had been a mistress in the house. “More liberties,” Janet indignantly declared, and after the first visitation or two she resolutely set her face against what she called the answering of impertinent questions. According to her own confession, she gave to several of them, whose interest in their affairs was expressed without due discretion, a “downsetting,” and Graeme and the boys, and even Mr. Elliott, had an idea that a downsetting from Janet must be something serious. It is true her victims’ ignorance of the Scottish tongue must have taken the edge a little off her sharp words, but there was no mistaking her indignant testimony, as regarding “upsettin’ bodies,” and “meddlesome bodies,” that bestowed too much time on their neighbours’ affairs, and there was some indignation felt and expressed on the subject.
But she had her friends, and that not a few, for sweet words and soft came very naturally to Janet’s lips when her heart was touched, and this always happened to her in the presence of suffering and sorrow, and many were the sad and sick that her kind words comforted, and her willing hands relieved. For every sharp word brought up against her, there could be told a kindly deed, and Janet’s friends were the most numerous at the sewing-circle that night.
Merleville was by no means on the outskirts of civilisation, though viewed from the high hill on which the old meeting-house stood, it seemed to the children to be surrounded with woods. But between the hills lay many a fertile valley. Except toward the west, where the hills became mountains, it was laid out into farms, nearly all of which were occupied, and very pleasant homes some of these farm-houses were. The village was not large enough to have a society within itself independent of the dwellers on these farms, and all the people, even to the borders of the “ten miles square,” considered themselves neighbours. They were very socially inclined, for the most part, and Merleville was a very pleasant place to live in.
Winter was the time for visiting. There was very little formality in their entertainments. Nuts and apples, or doughnuts and cheese, was usually the extent of their efforts in the way of refreshments, except on special occasions, when formal invitations were given. Then, it must be confessed, the chief aim of each housekeeper seemed to be to surpass all others in the excellence and variety of the good things provided. But for the most part no invitations were given or needed, they dropped in on one another in a friendly way.
The minister’s family were not overlooked. Scarcely an evening passed but some of their neighbours came in. Indeed, this happened too frequently for Janet’s patience, for she sorely begrudged the time taken from the minister’s books, to the entertainment of “ilka idle body that took leave to come in.” It gave her great delight to see him really interested with visitors, but she set her face against his being troubled at all hours on every day in the week.
“If it’s anything particular I’ll tell the minister you’re here,” she used to say; “but he bade the bairns be quiet, and I doubt he wouldna like to be disturbed. Sit down a minute, and I’ll speak to Miss Graeme, and I dare say the minister will be at leisure shortly.”
Generally the visitor, by no means displeased, sat down in her bright kitchen for a chat with her and the children. It was partly these evening visits that won for Mrs. Nasmyth her popularity. Even in her gloomy days—and she had some days gloomy enough about this time—she would exert herself on such an occasion, and with the help of the young people the visitor was generally well entertained. Such singing of songs, such telling of tales, such discussions as were carried on in the pleasant firelight! There was no such thing as time lagging there, and often the nine o’clock worship came before the visitor was aware.
Even Judge Merle and young Squire Greenleaf were sometimes detained in the kitchen, if they happened to come in on a night when the minister was more than usually engaged.
“For you see, sir,” said she, on one occasion, “what with ae thing and what with anither, the minister has had so many interruptions this week already, that I dinna like to disturb him. But if you’ll sit down here for a minute or two, I daresay he’ll be ben and I’ll speak to Miss Graeme.”
“Mr. Elliott seems a close student,” said the Judge, as he took the offered seat by the fire.
“Ay, is he. Though if you are like the lave o’ the folk, you’ll think no more o’ him for that. Folk o’ my country judge o’ a minister by the time he spends in his study; but here he seems hardly to be thought to be in the way of his duty, unless he’s ca’ing about from house to house, hearkening to ilka auld wife’s tale.”
“But,” said the Judge, much amused, “the minister has been studying all his life. It seems as though he might draw on old stores now.”
“Ay, but out o’ the old stores he must bring new matter. The minister’s no one that puts his people off with ‘cauld kail het again,’ and he canna make sermons and rin here and there at the same time.”
“And he can’t attend to visitors and make sermons at the same time. That would be to the point at present,” said the Judge, laughing, “I think I’ll be going.”
“ ’Deed, no, sir,” said Janet, earnestly, “I didna mean you. I’m aye glad to see you or any sensible person to converse with the minister. It cheers him. But this week it’s been worse than ever. He has hardly had an unbroken hour. But sit still, sir. He would be ill-pleased if you went away without seeing him.”
“I’ll speak to papa, Judge Merle,” said Graeme.
“Never mind, my dear. Come and speak to me yourself.