Coming just after the fire, the household was
demoralized, and it was no surprise to me to find Alex and the
under-gardener struggling down-stairs with a heavy trunk between
them.
"I didn't want to do it, Miss Innes," Alex said. "But she was so
excited, I was afraid she would do as she said--drag
it down herself, and scratch the staircase."
I was trying to get my bonnet off and to keep the maids quiet at
the same time. "Now, Eliza, when you have washed your face and
stopped bawling," I said, "come into my sitting-room and tell me
what has happened."
Liddy put away my things without speaking. The very set of her
shoulders expressed disapproval.
"Well," I said, when the silence became uncomfortable, "things
seem to be warming up."
Silence from Liddy, and a long sigh.
"If Eliza goes, I don't know where to look for another cook."
More silence.
"Rosie is probably a good cook." Sniff.
"Liddy," I said at last, "don't dare to deny that you are having
the time of your life. You positively gloat in this excitement.
You never looked better. It's my opinion all this running
around, and getting jolted out of a rut, has stirred up that
torpid liver of yours."
"It's not myself I'm thinking about," she said, goaded into
speech. "Maybe my liver was torpid, and maybe it wasn't; but I
know this: I've got some feelings left, and to see you
standing at the foot of that staircase shootin' through the
door--I'll never be the same woman again.
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