It's the only room in our place where there's pen and ink."I want to write a letter to a friend," she says, "and I can't do it for the prying and peeping of the servants up at the house." Who the letter was written to I can't tell you: it must have been a mortal long one, judging by the time she stopped upstairs over it.I offered her a postage-stamp when she came down.She hadn't got the letter in her hand, and she didn't accept the stamp.A little close, poor soul (as you know), about herself and her doings.
But a friend she has got somewhere, I can tell you; and to that friend, you may depend upon it, she will go.'
`Soon?' asked the Sergeant.
`As soon as she can,' says Mrs.Yolland.
Here I stepped in again from the door.As chief of my lady's establishment, I couldn't allow this sort of loose talk about a servant of ours going, or not going, to proceed any longer in my presence, without noticing it.
`You must be mistaken about Rosanna Spearman,' I said.`If she had been going to leave her present situation, she would have mentioned it, in the first place, to me.'
`Mistaken?' cries Mrs.Yolland.`Why, only an hour ago she bought some things she wanted for travelling--of my own self, Mr.Betteredge, in this very room.And that reminds me,' says the wearisome woman, suddenly beginning to feel in her pocket, `of something I have got it on my mind to say about Rosanna and her money.Are you either of you likely to see her when you go back to the house?'
`I'll take a message to the poor thing, with the greatest pleasure,'
answered Sergeant Cuff, before I could put in a word edge-wise.
Mrs.Yolland produced out of her pocket, a few shillings and sixpences, and counted them out with a most particular and exasperating carefulness in the palm of her hand.She offered the money to the Sergeant, looking mighty loth to part with it all the while.
`Might I ask you to give this back to Rosanna, with my love and respects?'
says Mrs.Yolland.`She insisted on paying me for the one or two things she took a fancy to this evening--and money's welcome enough in our house, I don't deny it.Still, I'm not easy in my mind about taking the poor thing's little savings.And to tell you the truth, I don't think my man would like to hear that I had taken Rosanna Spearman's money, when he comes back tomorrow morning from his work.Please say she's heartily welcome to the things she bought of me--as a gift.And don't leave the money on the table,' says Mrs.Yolland, putting it down suddenly before the Sergeant, as if it burnt her fingers--`don't, there's a good man! For times are hard, and flesh is weak; and I might feel tempted to put it back in my pocket again.'
`Come along!' I said, `I can't wait any longer: I must go back to the house.'
`I'll follow you directly,' says Sergeant Cuff.
For the second time, I went to the door; and, for the second time, try as I might, I couldn't cross the threshold.
`It's delicate matter, ma'am,' I heard the Sergeant say, `giving money back.You charged her cheap for the things, I'm sure?'
`Cheap!' says Mrs.Yolland.`Come and judge for yourself.'
She took up the candle and led the Sergeant to a corner of the kitchen.
For the life of me, I couldn't help following them.Shaken down in the corner was a heap of odds and ends (mostly old metal), which the fisherman had picked up at different times from wrecked ships, and which he hadn't found a market for yet, to his own mind.Mrs.Yolland dived into this rubbish, and brought up an old japanned tin case, with a cover to it, and a hasp to hang it up by--the sort of thing they use, on board ship, for keeping their maps and charts, and such-like, from the wet.
`There!' says she.`When Rosanna came in this evening, she bought the fellow to that."It will just do," she says, "to put my cuffs and collars in, and keep them from being crumpled in my box." One and ninepence, Mr.
Cuff.As I live by bread, not a halfpenny more!'
`Dirt cheap!' says the Sergeant, with a heavy sigh.
He weighted the case in his hand.I thought I heard a note or two of `The Last Rose of Summer' as he looked at it.There was no doubt now! He had made another discovery to the prejudice of Rosanna Spearman, in the place of all others where I thought her character was safest, and all through me! I leave you to imagine what I felt, and how sincerely I repented having been the medium of introduction between Mrs.Yolland and Sergeant Cuff.
`That will do,' I said.`We really must go.'
Without paying the least attention to me, Mrs.Yolland took another dive into the rubbish, and came up out of it, this time, with a dog-chain.
`Weigh it in your hand, sir,' she said to the Sergeant.`We had three of these; and Rosanna has taken two of them."What can you want, my dear, with a couple of dog's chains?" says I."If I join them together they'll go round my box nicely," says she."Rope's cheapest," says I."Chain's surest," says she."Who ever heard of a box corded with chain," says I.
"Oh, Mrs.Yolland, don't make objections!" says she; "let me have my chains!"A strange girl, Mr.Cuff--good as gold, and kinder than a sister to my Lucy--but always a little strange.There! I humoured her.Three and sixpence.
On the word of an honest woman, three and sixpence, Mr.Cuff!"`Each?' says the Sergeant.
`Both together!' says Mrs.Yolland.`Three and sixpence for the two.'
`Given away, ma'am,' says the Sergeant, shaking his head.`Clean given away!'
`There's the money,' says Mrs.Yolland, getting back sideways to the little heap of silver on the table, as if it drew her in spite of herself.
`The tin case and the dog-chains were all she bought, and all she took away.One and ninepence and three and sixpence--total, five and three.
With my love and respects--and I can't find it in my conscience to take a poor girl's savings, when she may want them herself.'
`I can't find it in my conscience, ma'am, to give the money back,'
says Sergeant Cuff.`You have as good as made her a present of the things--you have indeed.'
`Is that your sincere opinion, sir?' says Mrs.Yolland, brightening up wonderfully.