Form, color, drama, and divers other advantages are necessary to the creation of an object of interest.Presenting to the world none of these assets, Miss Alicia had slipped through life a scarcely remarked unit.No little ghost of prettiness had attracted the wandering eye, no suggestion of agreeable or disagreeable power of self-assertion had arrested attention.There had been no hour in her life when she had expected to count as being of the slightest consequence.When she had knocked at the door of the study at Rowcroft Vicarage, and "dear papa"had exclaimed irritably: "Who is that? Who is that?" she had always replied, "It is only Alicia."This being the case, her gradual awakening to the singularity of her new situation was mentally a process full of doubts and sometimes of alarmed bewilderments.If in her girlhood a curate, even a curate with prominent eyes and a receding chin, had proposed to her that she should face with him a future enriched by the prospect of being called upon to bring up a probable family of twelve on one hundred and fifty pounds a year, with both parish and rectory barking and snapping at her worn-down heels, she would have been sure to assert tenderly that she was afraid she was "not worthy." This was the natural habit of her mind, and in the weeks which followed the foggy afternoon when Tembarom "staked out his claim" she dwelt often upon her unworthiness of the benefits bestowed upon her.
First the world below-stairs, then the village, and then the county itself awoke to the fact that the new Temple Temple Barholm had "taken her up." The first tendency of the world below-stairs was to resent the unwarranted uplifting of a person whom there had been a certain luxury in regarding with disdain and treating with scarcely veiled lack of consideration.To be able to do this with a person who, after all was said and done, was not one of the servant class, but a sort of lady of birth, was not unstimulating.And below-stairs the sense of personal rancor against "a 'anger-on" is strong.The meals served in Miss Alicia's remote sitting-room had been served at leisure, her tea had rarely been hot, and her modestly tinkled bell irregularly answered.Often her far from liberally supplied fire had gone out on chilly days, and she had been afraid to insist on its being relighted.
Her sole defense against inattention would have been to complain to Mr.Temple Barholm, and when on one occasion a too obvious neglect had obliged her to gather her quaking being together in mere self- respect and say, "If this continues to occur, William, I shall be obliged to speak to Mr.Temple Barholm," William had so looked at her and so ill hid a secret smile that it had been almost tantamount to his saying, "I'd jolly well like to see you."And now! Sitting at the end of the table opposite him, if you please!
Walking here and walking there with him! Sitting in the library or wherever he was, with him talking and laughing and making as much of her as though she were an aunt with a fortune to leave, and with her making as free in talk as though at liberty to say anything that came into her head! Well, the beggar that had found himself on horseback was setting another one galloping alongside of him.In the midst of this natural resentment it was "a bit upsetting," as Burrill said, to find it dawning upon one that absolute exactness of ceremony was as much to be required for "her" as for "him." Miss Alicia had long felt secretly sure that she was spoken of as "her" in the servants' hall.
That businesslike sharpness which Palford had observed in his client aided Tembarom always to see things without illusions.He knew that There was no particular reason why his army of servants should regard him for the present as much more than an intruder; but he also knew that if men and women had employment which was not made hard for them, and were well paid for doing, they were not anxious to lose it, and the man who paid their wages might give orders with some certainty of finding them obeyed.He was "sharp" in more ways than one.He observed shades he might have been expected to overlook.He observed a certain shade in the demeanor of the domestics when attending Miss Alicia, and it was a shade which marked a difference between service done for her and service done for himself.This was only at the outset, of course, when the secret resentment was felt; but he observed it, mere shade though it was.
He walked out into the hall after Burrill one morning.Not having yet adjusted himself to the rule that when one wished to speak to a man one rang a bell and called him back, fifty times if necessary, he walked after Burrill and stopped him.
"This is a pretty good place for servants, ain't it?" he said.
"Yes, sir."
"Good pay, good food, not too much to do?"
"Certainly, sir," Burrill replied, somewhat disturbed by a casualness which yet suggested a method of getting at something or other.
"You and the rest of them don't want to change, do you?""No, sir.There is no complaint whatever as far as I have heard.""That's all right." Mr.Temple Barholm had put his hands into his pockets, and stood looking non-committal in a steady sort of way.
"There's something I want the lot of you to get on to--right away.
Miss Temple Barholm is going to stay here.She's got to have everything just as she wants it.She's got to be pleased.She's the lady of the house.See?""I hope, sir," Burrill said with professional dignity, "that Miss Temple Barholm has not had reason to express any dissatisfaction.""I'm the one that would express it--quick," said Tembarom."She wouldn't have time to get in first.I just wanted to make sure Ishouldn't have to do it.The other fellows are under you.You've got a head on your shoulders, I guess.It's up to you to put 'em on to it.
That's all."
"Thank you, sir," said Burrill.
His master went back into the library smiling genially, and Burrill stood still a moment or so gazing at the door he closed behind him.
