Phoebe and Mrs. Robson were better friends than Phoebe and her young
mistress; and so they began to talk a little together in a
comfortable, familiar way. Once or twice Philip looked in, as if he
would be glad to see the tea-table in readiness; and then Phoebe
would put on a spurt of busy bustle, which ceased almost as soon as
his back was turned, so eager was she to obtain Mrs. Robson's
sympathy in some little dispute that had occurred between her and
the nurse-maid. The latter had misappropriated some hot water,
prepared and required by Phoebe, to the washing of the baby's
clothes; it was a long story, and would have tired the patience of
any one in full possession of their senses; but the details were
just within poor Bell's comprehension, and she was listening with
the greatest sympathy. Both the women were unaware of the lapse of
time; but it was of consequence to Philip, as the extra labour was
not to be begun until after tea, and the daylight hours were
precious.
At a quarter to five Hester and he came in, and then Phoebe began to
hurry. Hester went up to sit by Bell and talk to her. Philip spoke
to Phoebe in the familiar words of country-folk. Indeed, until his
marriage, Phoebe had always called him by his Christian name, and
had found it very difficult to change it into 'master.' 'Where's Sylvie?' said he.
'Gone out wi' t' babby,' replied Phoebe.
'Why can't Nancy carry it out?' asked Philip.
It was touching on the old grievance: he was tired, and he spoke
with sharp annoyance. Phoebe might easily have told him the real
state of the case; Nancy was busy at her washing, which would have
been reason enough. But the nursemaid had vexed her, and she did not
like Philip's sharpness, so she only said,-'It's noane o' my business; it's yo' t' look after yo'r own wife and
child; but yo'r but a lad after a'.' This was not conciliatory speech, and just put the last stroke to
Philip's fit of ill-temper.
'I'm not for my tea to-night,' said he, to Hester, when all was
ready. 'Sylvie's not here, and nothing is nice, or as it should be.
I'll go and set to on t' stock-taking. Don't yo' hurry, Hester; stop
and chat a bit with th' old lady.' 'Nay, Philip,' said Hester, 'thou's sadly tired; just take this cup
o' tea; Sylvia 'll be grieved if yo' haven't something.' 'Sylvia doesn't care whether I'm full or fasting,' replied he,
impatiently putting aside the cup. 'If she did she'd ha' taken care
to be in, and ha' seen to things being as I like them.' Now in general Philip was the least particular of men about meals;
and to do Sylvia justice, she was scrupulously attentive to every
household duty in which old Phoebe would allow her to meddle, and
always careful to see after her husband's comforts. But Philip was
too vexed at her absence to perceive the injustice of what he was
saying, nor was he aware how Bell Robson had been attending to what
he said. But she was sadly discomfited by it, understanding just
enough of the grievance in hand to think that her daughter was
neglectful of those duties which she herself had always regarded as
paramount to all others; nor could Hester convince her that Philip
had not meant what he said; neither could she turn the poor old
woman's thoughts from the words which had caused her distress.