A Master Of Craft

“Anything the matter, ma’am?” enquired Captain Barber, regarding her somewhat severely.

Mrs. Banks shook her head. “Only thoughts,” she said, mysteriously.

It is difficult for a man to object to his visitors finding amusement in their thoughts, or even to enquire too closely into the nature of them. Mrs. Banks, apparently realising this, laughed again with increased acridity, and finally became so very amused that she shook in her chair.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, ma’am,” said Captain Barber, loftily.

With a view, perhaps, of giving his guest further amusement he patted the housekeeper’s hand again, whereupon Mrs. Banks’ laughter ceased, and she sat regarding Mrs. Church with a petrified stare, met by that lady with a glance of haughty disdain.

“S’pose we go into the garden a bit?” suggested Barber, uneasily. The two ladies had eyed each other for three minutes without blinking, and his own eyes were watering in sympathy.

Mrs. Banks, secretly glad of the interruption, made one or two vague remarks about going home, but after much persuasion, allowed him to lead her into the garden, the solemn Elizabeth bringing up in the rear with a hassock and a couple of cushions.

“It’s a new thing for you having a housekeeper,” observed Mrs. Banks, after her daughter had returned to the house to assist in washing up.

“Yes, I wonder I never thought of it before,” said the artful Barber; “you wouldn’t believe how comfortable it is.”

“I daresay,” said Mrs. Banks, grimly.

“It’s nice to have a woman about the house,” continued Captain Barber, slowly, “it makes it more homelike. A slip of a servant-gal ain’t no good at all.”

“How does Fred like it?” enquired Mrs. Banks.

“My ideas are Fred’s ideas,” said Uncle Barber, somewhat sharply. “What I like he has to like, naturally.”

“I was thinking of my darter,” said Mrs. Banks, smoothing down her apron majestically. “The arrangement was, I think, that when they were, married they was to live with you?”

Captain Barber nodded acquiescence.

“Elizabeth would never live in a house with that woman, or any other woman, as housekeeper in it,” said the mother.

“Well, she won’t have to,” said the old man; “when they marry and Elizabeth comes here, I sha’n’t want a housekeeper—I shall get rid of her.”

Mrs. Banks shifted in her chair, and gazed thoughtfully down the garden. “Of course my idea was for them to wait till I was gone,” she said at length.

“Just so,” replied the other, “and more’s the pity.”

“But Elizabeth’s getting on and I don’t seem to go,” continued the old lady, as though mildly surprised at Providence for its unaccountable delay; “and there’s Fred, he ain’t getting younger.”

Captain Barber puffed at his pipe. “None of us are,” he said profoundly.

“And Fred might get tired of waiting,” said Mrs. Banks, ruminating.

“He’d better let me hear him,” said the uncle, fiercely; “leastways, o’ course, he’s tired o’ waiting in a sense. He’d like to be married.”

“There’s young Gibson,” said Mrs. Banks in a thrilling whisper.

“What about him?” enquired Barber, surprised at her manner.

“Comes round after Elizabeth,” said Mrs. Banks.

“No!” said Captain Barber, blankly.

Mrs. Banks pursed up her lips and nodded darkly.

“Pretends to come and see me,” said Mrs. Banks; “always coming in bringing something new for my legs. The worst of it is he ain’t always careful what he brings. He brought some new-fangled stuff in a bottle last week, and the agonies I suffered after rubbing it in wouldn’t be believed.”

“It’s like his impudence,” said the Captain.

“I’ve been thinking,” said Mrs. Banks, nodding her head with some animation, “of giving Fred a little surprise. What do you think he’d do if I said they might marry this autumn?”

“Jump out of his skin with joy,” said Captain Barber, with conviction. “Mrs. Banks, the pleasure you’ve given me this day is more than I can say.”

“And they’ll live with you just the same?” said Mrs. Banks.

“Certainly,” said the Captain.

“They’ll only be a few doors off then,” said Mrs. Banks, “and it’ll be nice for you to have a woman in the house to look after you.”

Captain. Barber nodded softly. “It’s what I’ve been wanting for years,” he said, heartily.

“And that huss—husskeeper,” said Mrs. Banks, correcting herself—“will go?”

“O’ course,” said Captain Barber. “I sha’n’t want no housekeeper with my nevy’s wife in the house. You’ve told Elizabeth, I s’pose?”

“Not yet,” said Mrs. Banks, who as a matter of fact had been influenced by the proceedings of that afternoon to bring to a head a step she had hitherto only vaguely contemplated.

Elizabeth, who came down the garden again, a little later, accompanied by Mrs. Church, received the news stolidly. A feeling of regret, that the attention of the devoted Gibson must now cease, certainly occurred to her, but she never thought of contesting the arrangements made for her, and accepted the situation with a placidity which the more ardent Barber was utterly unable to understand.

“Fred’ll stand on his.’ed with joy,” the unsophisticated mariner declared, with enthusiasm.

“He’ll go singing about the house,” declared Mrs. Church.

Mrs. Banks regarded her unfavourably.

“He’s never said much,” continued Uncle Barber, in an exalted strain; “that ain’t Fred’s way. He takes arter me; he’s one o’ the quiet ones, one o’ the still deep waters what always feels the most. When I tell ‘im his face’ll just light up with joy.”

“It’ll be nice for you, too,” said Mrs. Banks, with a side glance at the housekeeper; “you’ll have somebody to look after you and take an interest in you, and strangers can’t be expected to do that even if they’re nice.”

“We shall have him standing on his head, too,” said Mrs. Church, with a bright smile; “you’re turning everything upside down, Mrs. Banks.”

“There’s things as wants altering,” said the old lady, with emphasis. “There’s few things as I don’t see, ma’am.”

“I hope you’ll live to see a lot more,” said Mrs. Church, piously.

“She’ll live to be ninety,” said Captain Barber, heartily.

“Oh, easily,” said Mrs. Church.