“But I didn’t, sir, really I didn’t.”
“Then somebody else did,” said Lawrence acutely
“Well, sir -”
“Do tell me, Rose.”
“I don’t know what Gladdie would say, I’m sure.”
“She’d want you to tell me. Who is Gladdie, by the way?”
“She’s the kitchenmaid, sir. And you see, she’d just stepped out to speak to a friend, and she was passing the window – the study window – and the master was there with the lady. And of course he did speak very loud, the master did, always. And naturally, feeling a little curious – I mean -”
“Awfully natural,” said Lawrence, “I mean one would simply have to listen.”
“But of course she didn’t tell any one – except me. And we both thought it very odd. But Gladdie couldn’t say anything, you see, because if it was known she’d gone out to meet a – a friend – well, it would have meant a lot of unpleasantness with Mrs. Pratt, that’s the cook, sir. But I’m sure she’d tell you anything, sir, willing.”
“Well, can I go to the kitchen and speak to her?”
Rose was horrified by the suggestion.
“Oh! no, sir, that would never do. And Gladdie’s a very nervous girl anyway.”
At last the matter was settled, after a lot of discussion over difficult points. A clandestine meeting was arranged in the shrubbery.
Here, in due course, Lawrence was confronted by the nervous Gladdie whom he described as more like a shivering rabbit than anything human. Ten minutes were spent in trying to put the girl at her ease, the shivering Gladys explaining that she couldn’t ever – that she didn’t ought, that she didn’t think Rose would have given her away, that anyway she hadn’t meant no harm, indeed she hadn’t, and that she’d catch it badly if Mrs. Pratt ever came to hear of it.
Lawrence reassured, cajoled, persuaded – at last Gladys consented to speak. “If you’ll be sure it’ll go no further, sir.”
“Of course it won’t.”
“And it won’t be brought up against me in a court of law?”
“Never.”
“And you won’t tell the mistress?”
“Not on any account.”
“If it were to get to Mrs. Pratt’s ears -”
“It won’t. Now tell me, Gladys.”
“If you’re sure it’s all right?”
“Of course it is. You’ll be glad some day you’ve saved me from being hanged.”
Gladys gave a little shriek.
“Oh! indeed, I wouldn’t like that, sir. Well, it’s very little I heard – and that entirely by accident as you might say -”
“I quite understand.”
“But the master, he was evidently very angry. ‘After all these years’ – that’s what he was saying – ‘you dare to come here -‘ ‘It’s an outrage -‘ I couldn’t hear what the lady said – but after a bit he said, ‘I utterly refuse – utterly -‘ I can’t remember everything – seemed as though they were at it hammer and tongs, she wanting him to do something and he refusing. ‘It’s a disgrace that you should have come down here,’ that’s one thing he said. And ‘You shall not see her – I forbid it -‘ and that made me prick up my ears. Looked as though the lady wanted to tell Mrs. Protheroe a thing or two, and he was afraid about it. And I thought to myself, ‘Well, now, fancy the master, Him so particular. And maybe no beauty himself when all’s said and done. Fancy!’ I said. And ‘Men are all alike,’ I said to my friend later. Not that he’d agree. Argued, he did. But he did admit he was surprised at Colonel Protheroe – him being a churchwarden and handing round the plate and reading the lessons on Sundays. ‘But there,’ I said, ‘that’s very often the worst.’ For that’s what I’ve heard my mother say, many a time.”
Gladdie paused out of breath, and Lawrence tried tactfully to get back to where the conversation had started.
“Did you hear anything else?”
“Well, it’s difficult to remember exactly, sir. It was all much the same. He said once or twice, ‘I don’t believe it.’ Just like that. ‘Whatever Haydock says, I don’t believe it.'”