Chapter 2

“Anny minister’s wife,” said Norah O’Grady, “is bound to be tired of
bein’ it. If he needs a vacation she needs two o’ thim. I’ve been in
two ministers’ houses in my time, an’ I know. An’ I don’t suppose bein’
in a big city, an’ havin’ her husband preachin’ to ten hundred people
instead of one hundred, makes it anny easier. There’s just that manny
more women to criticize her.”

She glanced down the street. A group of women were approaching with
eyes upon the colloquy between herself and Miss Jenney. She rose from
her knees.

“Go on, dear,” she said under her breath, “or I’ll be in trouble. Slip
round to the back gate down the garden, and I’ll let ye in when the
storm’s passed by.”

In the twinkling of an eye she had vanished into the house, and the
heavy green door with its brass knocker had swung uncompromisingly shut
behind her. Jo proceeded on her way, walking rapidly. The women whom
she met gave her curious nods, and one turned as if to speak, but Jo’s
momentum carried her safely by. Round the corner and down the lane
she reached the narrow green gate at the foot of the garden, and two
minutes later Mrs. O’Grady’s strong hands, red and rough with work,
wrested the long-unused gate open. At the same moment, at the front of
the house, two women tried in vain to open the locked front gate.

“Well, whoever’s coming,” one of them said, “I hope they put an end to
this foolish business of keeping the place barred like a prison.”

“Maybe Eldora Cherry left it in her will that it should be. And Norah
O’Grady would just enjoy doing it, anyway. Isn’t she a character?”

“She certainly is. The other day. . . .”

Anecdotes of Mrs. O’Grady’s well-known and tantalizing reticences
followed, taking the minds of the group from the annoyance of having
been unable to corner her. Meanwhile, inside the house, Jo Jenney
watched Norah polish brass sconces. Polishing was among the best things
Norah did. The violent effort seemed to ease her unceasing urge for
work.

“Are you going to stay after Mrs. Chase comes?” Jo asked.

“To be sure, I’m that. I’m to come every day for the laundry work an’
the cl’anin! There’ll be plenty of both, with three little children.
Mrs. Chase come up here an’ engaged me, one evenin’, when the town had
gone to bed an’ missed it. Drove up in her big car, with a girl an’ a
man with her–cousins of hers. Come in my house an’ had a fine visit
with me, who used to know her. She’s the swate person, an’ always was.
Said she’d bring a cook, an’ a nurse for the baby, an’ would I find
some girl up here to be second maid for her, to do the rooms an’ wait
on table, an’ that. An’ my oldest boy Jimmy’s to kape the outdoors
tidy for her, an’ look after her car an’ the ridin’ horses she’ll be
gettin’.”

“Have you found the second maid?”

“I have not. I wrote her she’d have to bring one. The kind of girl
she’d want, around here, won’t work in other folks’ houses. I don’t
know what she wants of so manny, but I think she’s used to havin’
plinty to wait on her, in her father’s house. There ain’t manny
ministers’ wives have four. But that’s neither here nor there. What
Sally Cherry wanted she always had–till she married the minister–an’
then she had more yet. But she had to pay for it. They was both of them
of rich families–but I’m talkin’ too much, Miss Jenney. I been kapin’
my mouth so tight shut these days, I have to blither and blather when I
get the chanct.”

She was off with her brasses, to set them up. Jo Jenney stood still,
her fine dark brows drawing together with the intensity of a sudden
idea, a sudden purpose. When Norah came back Jo’s mind was made up. It
was an eager mind, few things daunted it.

“See here, Mrs. O’Grady, why couldn’t I take the place of that second
maid?”

Norah O’Grady stopped stock still, staring at the face of the young
woman before her. It was an interesting face, it indeed possessed
actual beauty of a spirited sort, but it was notable rather for a
certain sturdy look of will which might be counted on to carry away
obstacles. To Norah’s mind there certainly was a large obstacle looming
in the path of such a proposal as this.

“My heart!” she ejaculated. “Do I be hearin’ right? An’ you a teacher!
But you’re jokin’–that I know.”

She turned away, but Jo’s voice pursued her.

“It’s vacation,” she pointed out. “And I do mean it, Mrs. O’Grady. Why
not? I’ve been wishing for something new to do this summer. I’m anxious
to stay in this locality, for certain reasons. So why shouldn’t I do
this? I saw Mrs. Chase once–in the church where her husband preaches.
I could hardly listen to him for looking at her, though I thought he
was wonderful–everybody does. But I thought she was more so. I’d like
very much to be in her home for a summer.”

Mrs. O’Grady was still staring, the current of her work stopped in
mid-stream. “Are you thinkin’ she’ll make a companion of you, maybe,
because of your bein’ a teacher?” she inquired, with a touch of kindly
irony. “Because she won’t–not even her that’s the real quality an’ so
ain’t the uppish sort at all. But–they don’t. Thim as works for ’em
they kapes in their places. They’re used to that–they don’t think to
do no other way, and we can’t be blamin’ ’em.”

“I shouldn’t expect her to make a companion of me,” insisted Josephine
Jenney, rather sternly. “Of course I understand, Mrs. O’Grady. And
I shouldn’t tell her that I’m a teacher. I shouldn’t be a teacher
while I’m her second maid, should I? And I do want to do something
interesting–and I think this would be interesting. Will you recommend
me?”

“What’ll my Patsy say, that you’ve taught all he knows, an’ more too?”

“Why, Mrs. O’Grady!” Jo was laughing now, with a gleam in her eyes. “If
I’ve taught Patsy anything, it’s that we are all free and equal in this
country.”

“Free an’ equal, is it?” Norah O’Grady seemed about to launch into a
fiery tirade on the searing irony of this well-worn term, but something
in Jo’s look halted her. “An’ you’re serious, Miss Jenney?” she
insisted.

“Perfectly serious. And since you’ve written Mrs. Chase that you can’t
find anybody—- When did the letter go?”

“Last night.”

“Will you catch it with a telegram? ‘_Have found satisfactory maid on
your own terms._’ I’ll send it, if you like, and pay for it, of course.”

When Norah O’Grady had caught her breath, practical details rushed to
her mind. She had resumed her work–scrubbing out a pantry–but her
thoughts ran free. “Ye’ll have to wear what she calls a unyform.”

“I know. Black dresses and white aprons. Very attractive.”

“And a cap.”

For the fraction of a second Jo’s assent halted. Then she said
undauntedly: “Of course. Most becoming.”

“So you don’t mind wearin’ a unyform? An’ a cap?” questioned Norah
again, with a sharp look.

“Your Rose wears them.”

“Ah, but there’s a difference. A trained nurse has her own position. A
servant has no position at all.”

“I mean to have one,” said Jo Jenney lightly. “I mean to be such an
unusual servant–such a fascinating servant–that—-“