DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.65479#0199
house he heard was rich as well as fair. He mistook the maid for the
mistress, and at once began to lay siege to her heart. The young house-
keeper grasped the situation; her ready wit amused him; hour after hour
passed quickly away, while she made believe, and he made love. When
she had shown him all the treasures of the house, and he could no longer
find any excuse to linger, he fell on his knees and told her how he loved
her at once and for ever, and asked her to share with him his barren lands
and princely titles; then she revealed to him her identity, and he and his
love fled out of the house.
She was in the real sense of the word a housekeeper, and most care-
fully did she keep and guard all the treasures of the beautiful old Jacobean
house. Everything it contained was sacred in her eyes, from the rarest
Caxton in the library, or the most valuable picture in the gallery, to the
most insignificant piece of cracked china in the china closet. She had a
rooted mistrust of strangers, and did not at all enjoy taking them over the
house. If they showed an intelligent interest she immediately suspected
them of designs to purloin some of the treasures. If, on the other hand,
they sauntered idly through the rooms, gossiping or flirting as the case
might be, her righteous wrath knew no bounds. She once sternly repri-
manded a Royal Duke because he preferred to gaze into the beaux yeux
of some fair lady by his side rather than stand entranced before a portrait
of one of his ancestresses by Vandyck.
But if any of the family wanted her to take them over the house she
at once relaxed, and would tell them many a chronicle of past generations
just as she had heard it from the lips of her “ dear lady,” who was born
in the first half of the eighteenth century. She would unravel many a
pedigree, tell many a story of the originals of the pictures and miniatures,
till she seemed a living link between the past and present. To the children
she was a sort of ancient fairy who would reward them for good behaviour
by delicious cakes and biscuits of her own making, which would appear
out of the depth of the great old oak cupboards in the housekeeper’s room,
and sometimes she would add a glass of home-made raspberry vinegar.
The nurses would take the children to her while she was having her
breakfast and report their conduct, and greatly did they stand in awe of
her displeasure if she heard of any naughty boys and girls. She never
slept away from the house, at least not during the last twenty years of her
life. She lived, like her “ dear lady,” to an extreme old age, her mind
clear to the end.
151
mistress, and at once began to lay siege to her heart. The young house-
keeper grasped the situation; her ready wit amused him; hour after hour
passed quickly away, while she made believe, and he made love. When
she had shown him all the treasures of the house, and he could no longer
find any excuse to linger, he fell on his knees and told her how he loved
her at once and for ever, and asked her to share with him his barren lands
and princely titles; then she revealed to him her identity, and he and his
love fled out of the house.
She was in the real sense of the word a housekeeper, and most care-
fully did she keep and guard all the treasures of the beautiful old Jacobean
house. Everything it contained was sacred in her eyes, from the rarest
Caxton in the library, or the most valuable picture in the gallery, to the
most insignificant piece of cracked china in the china closet. She had a
rooted mistrust of strangers, and did not at all enjoy taking them over the
house. If they showed an intelligent interest she immediately suspected
them of designs to purloin some of the treasures. If, on the other hand,
they sauntered idly through the rooms, gossiping or flirting as the case
might be, her righteous wrath knew no bounds. She once sternly repri-
manded a Royal Duke because he preferred to gaze into the beaux yeux
of some fair lady by his side rather than stand entranced before a portrait
of one of his ancestresses by Vandyck.
But if any of the family wanted her to take them over the house she
at once relaxed, and would tell them many a chronicle of past generations
just as she had heard it from the lips of her “ dear lady,” who was born
in the first half of the eighteenth century. She would unravel many a
pedigree, tell many a story of the originals of the pictures and miniatures,
till she seemed a living link between the past and present. To the children
she was a sort of ancient fairy who would reward them for good behaviour
by delicious cakes and biscuits of her own making, which would appear
out of the depth of the great old oak cupboards in the housekeeper’s room,
and sometimes she would add a glass of home-made raspberry vinegar.
The nurses would take the children to her while she was having her
breakfast and report their conduct, and greatly did they stand in awe of
her displeasure if she heard of any naughty boys and girls. She never
slept away from the house, at least not during the last twenty years of her
life. She lived, like her “ dear lady,” to an extreme old age, her mind
clear to the end.
151