Mrs. Jenkins

“ He put his hand over the door. “Make yourself easy, Jenkins; it will all go on smoothly here. Good-bye, old fellow! I’ll come and see you very soon.”
“How he breaks, does he not, sir?” exclaimed Arthur to Mr. Galloway.
“Ay! he’s not long for this world!”
The fly proceeded on its way; Mrs. Jenkins, with her snappish manner, though really not unkind heart, lecturing Jenkins on his various shortcomings until it drew up at their own door. As Jenkins was being helped down from it, one of the college boys passed at a great speed; a railroad was nothing to it. It was Stephen Bywater. ”

“ Galloway so,” replied she.
Roland Yorke’s face grew to twice its usual length at the news. “I say, though, that will never do, Mrs. Jenkins. What’s to become of this office?”
“The office must do the best it can without him. He’s not coming to it.”
“I can’t manage it,” said Roland, in consternation. “I should go dead, if I had to do Jenkins’s work, and my own as well.”
“He’ll go dead, unless he takes some rest in time, and gets a little good nursing. I should like to know how I am to nurse him, if he is down here all day?” ”

“ I thought it time to lock his things up then.”
“Upon my word, I don’t know what’s to be done,” resumed Roland, growing quite hot with dismay and perplexity, at the prospect of some extra work for himself. “Look here!” exhibiting the parchments on Jenkins’s desk, all so neatly left—“here’s an array! Jenkins did not intend to stay away, when he left those last night, I know.”
“He intend to stay away! catch him thinking of it,” retorted Mrs. Jenkins. “It is as I have just told him—that he’d come in his coffin. ”

“ Mrs. Jenkins, whom the reader will hardly recognize as the once gay and beautiful Mary Jones, raised the dead body of her son in her arms, and carefully placing the unfortunate youth beside the pump in the back yard, returned with saddened step to the house. At another time, and in brighter days, she might have wept at the occurrence. She was past tears now.
"Father, your conduct is reprehensible!" said little Harrison Jenkins, the youngest boy. "Where do you expect to go when you die?"
"Ah!" said John Jenkins, fiercely; "this comes of giving children a liberal education ”

“ She bore but little resemblance to Mademoiselle Afchin, the tall, graceful blonde, with the tired features and irreproachable toilet, worthy in every respect to bear a name as illustrious as that of Dr. Jenkins. In the last two or three months the beautiful Madame Jenkins had changed greatly, had grown much older. There comes a time in the life of a woman who has long retained her youth, when the years which have passed over her head without leaving a wrinkle write themselves down pitilessly all at once in ineffaceable marks. ”

“ Oh, Fanny! what is the fire like in the kitchen? Speak."
"Mother told me to screw it up, and throw some slack on as soon as Mrs. Jenkins had done with it, and so I did. It's very low and black. But, oh, Mrs. Hodgson! let me run for the doctor—I cannot abear to hear him, it's so like little brother."
Through her streaming tears Mary motioned her to go; and trembling, sinking, sick at heart, she laid her boy in his cradle, and ran to fill her kettle.
Mrs. Jenkins, having cooked her husband's snug little dinner, to which he came home ”

“ Five minutes' reign of terror after that mistake brought the poor maid to a witless state that left her almost helpless. Various trips were made to the dressing-room, at which times the old lady's face was massaged, her grizzly hair rolled on crimping-pins, and her shoulders rubbed with an evil-smelling liniment which permeated the whole car. She seemed as oblivious to the presence of the other passengers as if she were on a desert island, and, being somewhat deaf, made Jenkins repeat her timid replies louder and louder until they were almost screaming at each other. ”

“ It was too bad of the taxi driver to sulk on his seat instead of offering to help with the things. He was, besides, a man with a face that did not invite generosity. She gave him an extra shilling.
Mrs. Jenkins's sister Guinivere was waiting for Mary in the flat. She was a smiling child of sixteen, and Mary was glad to see her fresh little face. They unpacked together in a friendly fashion, and then Guinivere—they called her Winny at home, she said, her name being Winifred, but Mr. Jenkins thought Guinivere more suitable for service—asked Mary what she would fancy for dinner. ”

“ Can’t you wait? It’s my belief you are wanting to do it. Here, let me get firm hold of you; you know you are as weak as ever was a rat!”
You may recognize the voice as belonging to Mrs. Jenkins, and that poor shadow could be no one but Jenkins himself, for there certainly was not another like it in all Helstonleigh. Mr. Galloway stood in astonishment, wondering what this new move could mean. The descent accomplished, Jenkins was conducted by his wife through the passage to the office. ”

“ Mrs. B. Now I have twine all ready and scissors, and everything but the folks to do the work. It’s the same way in every church. A few are willing to do all the work and the rest are all willing to have them. There comes Martha Jenkins now!
(Hurriedly straightens sofa cushion, changes position of chairs, smoothes hair.)
(Enter Mrs. Jenkins.)
Mrs. B. (effusively) . Well, Martha, I am glad to see you! I began to think that not a soul was coming to help me pack the missionary box. Take off your things!
Mrs. Jenkins. Thank you. (Removes hat, gloves and coat.)
Mrs. B. What a pretty waist! ”

“ Galloway.
“There is no of course in it, when men are the actors,” dissented Mrs. Jenkins. “Hurst did well to say ‘if he could,’ when ordering him to keep quiet. I’d rather have an animal ill in the house, than I’d have a man—they are ten times more reasonable. There has Jenkins been, tormenting himself ever since seven o’clock this morning about coming here ”

“ Jenny, the housemaid, entirely unconscious that her nightdress was her sole garment, threw herself flat on her face. Mrs. Craske-Morton, who was pouring out tea, let the teapot slip from her hand, smashing the cup and pouring the contents on to the table. Gustave's knees refused their office and he sank down, grasping with both hands the edge of the table. Mrs. Barnes dropped her clothes without troubling to retrieve them.
Suddenly there was a terrifying scream outside, then a motor-car drew up and the sound of men's voices was heard. ”

“ Gently he drew her hands away; but she still averted her face.
"Don't you see what I——" she began, then suddenly she drew in her lower lip as if to still its quivering.
"You must go home now," he said gently, "and I must see you in the morning."
"But—but——" she began.
"Promise you will let me see you in the morning," he said. "You will?"
"Yes," she whispered faintly.
Very docilely she permitted him to place her cloak upon her shoulders and then walked to the door, still with averted eyes. ”

“ She entered the lounge wearily, to find Miss Brent the centre of a group, the foremost in which were Mrs. Craske-Morton, Miss Wangle, and Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe. Patricia groaned in spirit; she knew exactly what had been taking place, and now she would have to explain everything. Could she explain? Had she for one moment paused to think of Aunt Adelaide, no amount of frenzy or excitement would have prompted her to such an adventure. Miss Brent would probe the mystery out of a ghost. Material, practical, level-headed, victorious, she would strip romance from a legend, or glamour from a myth. ”

“ Whenever conversation seemed likely to take an undesirable turn, or she foresaw a storm threatening, Mrs. Craske-Morton's "Really, Mr. So-and-so" invariably guided it back into a safe channel.
"But do they?" persisted Patricia. "Can you, Mrs. Morton, seriously regard marriage in this country as a success? It's all because marriages are made in heaven without taking into consideration our climatic conditions."
Miss Wangle had lost the power of speech. Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe was staring at Patricia as if she had been something strange and unclean upon which her eyes had never hitherto lighted. ”

“ Patricia determined to temporise in order to gain time. She knew Aunt Adelaide to be capable of anything, even to calling upon Lord Peter Bowen's family and enquiring if it were he to whom her niece was engaged. She was too bewildered to know how to act. It would be so like this absurd person to turn out to be a lord and make her still more ridiculous. If he were Lord Peter, why on earth had he not told her? Had he thought she would be dazzled?
Suddenly there flashed into Patricia's mind an explanation which caused her cheeks to flame and her eyes to flash. ”

“ Miss Wangle and Galvin House had been sufficiently serious factors, requiring all her watchfulness to circumvent them; but now Aunt Adelaide had thrown herself precipitately into the mêlée, and heaven alone knew what would be the outcome!
Had her aunt been a man or merely a woman, Patricia argued, she would not have been so dangerous; but she possessed the deliberate logic of the one and the quickness of perception of the other. With her feminine eye she could see, and with her man-like brain she could judge. ”

“ To do Mrs Jenkins and “Gwenny” justice, they were scrupulously clean in everything but their own persons, which, the latter’s especially, seemed to have monopolised the dirt of the whole establishment. College bedrooms are not luxurious affairs, so we were not inclined to be captious on that head; and we slept soundly, and awoke with a determination to make our first voyage of discovery in a charitable spirit.
The result of our morning’s stroll was the unanimous conclusion that Glyndewi was a rising place. ”

“ Beresford felt that he wanted to laugh. The grim humour of the situation appealed to him. Here had he been living expensively at the Ritz-Carlton for the sole purpose of meeting the Rain-Girl, while she had gone to another hotel not a hundred yards distant. He had considerably curtailed the period of his adventure by the reckless expenditure of his limited resources, and all in vain. Surely Fate was a mistress of irony. ”

“ As Patricia proceeded to assist Mrs. Craske-Morton, a veritable heroine in a pink flannel wrapper, she took stock of her fellows. Miss Wangle was engaged in prayer and tears, her wig was awry, her face drawn and yellow and her clothes the garb of advanced maidenhood. On her feet were bed-socks, half thrust into felt slippers. From beneath a black quilted dressing-gown peeped with virtuous pride the longcloth of a nightdress of Victorian severity. ”

“ She followed him along the carpeted corridor conscious of a mad desire to turn and fly. What would Peel do? she wondered. Possibly in the madness of the moment his mantle of discretion might fall from him, and he would dash after her. What a sensation for the Quadrant! A girl tearing along as if for her life pursued by a gentleman's servant. It would look just like the poster of "Charley's Aunt."
Peel opened the door of Bowen's sitting-room, and Patricia entered with the smile still on her lips that the thought of "Charley's Aunt" had aroused. ”

“ You may land there to-day with half-a-crown in your pocket, and come away in a year or two with your fortune made.”
“Indeed!” ejaculated Jenkins. “How is it made, sir?”
“Oh, you learn all that when you get there. I shall go, Jenkins, if things don’t look up a bit in these quarters.”
“What things, sir?” Jenkins ventured to ask.
“Tin, for one thing; work for another,” answered Roland. “If I don’t get more of the one, and less of the other, I shall try Port Natal. I had a row with my lady at dinner-time. She thinks a paltry sovereign or two ought to last a fellow for a month. ”

“ Mosscrop-Smythe glanced significantly at Miss Wangle, who, however, was too occupied in watching Patricia with hawk-like intentness to be conscious of anything but the quarry.
Suddenly Patricia remembered, and her face changed. The flowers faded, the chocolates lost their sweetness and the smile vanished. The parted lips set in a firm but mobile line. What had before been a tribute now became in her eyes an insult. Men sent chocolates and flowers to—to "those women"! If he respected her he would have done as she commanded him, instead of which he had sent her presents. Oh! ”

“ It was weak to be so easily influenced by someone else, especially a man who had treated her in the way that Bowen had treated her; for Patricia had now come to regard herself as extremely ill-used.
Nothing, she told herself, would have persuaded her to ring up Bowen in the way she had done, had it not been for Aunt Adelaide. In her heart she had to confess that she was very much afraid of Aunt Adelaide and what she might do.
Patricia dreaded dinner that evening. She knew instinctively that everybody would be full of Miss Wangle's discovery. ”

“ Jenkins, ‘Let me see, Jenkins; it’s one o’clock. I shall lunch with my friends here this morning; so you may take the carriage home now for my lady, and I shall cab it back, or come round by Metropolitan.’ Jenkins was too much accustomed to Lady Hilda’s unaccountable vagaries to express any surprise at her wildest resolutions, even if she had proposed to go home on a costermonger’s barrow; so he only touched his hat respectfully, in his marionette fashion, and drove away at once without further colloquy. ”