at season.
He was a slight tall gentleman of about thirty, and I thought him
rather melancholy-looking till I saw his smile, which had a kind of
surprise in it, like the first warm day in spring. He was a great
reader, I heard, like my mistress, and the two were forever borrowing
books of one another, and sometimes (Mr. Wace told me) he would read
aloud to Mrs. Brympton by the hour, in the big dark library where she
sat in the winter afternoons. The servants all liked him, and perhaps
that's more of a compliment than the masters suspect. He had a friendly
word for every one of us, and we were all glad to think that Mrs.
Brympton had a pleasant companionable gentleman like that to keep her
company when the master was away. Mr. Ranford seemed on excellent terms
with Mr. Brympton too; though I couldn't but wonder that two gentlemen
so unlike each other should be so friendly. But then I knew how the
real quality can keep their feelings to themselves.

As for Mr. Brympton, he came and went, never staying more than a day or
two, cursing the dulness and the solitude, grumbling at everything, and
(as I soon found out) drinking a deal more than was good for him. After
Mrs. Brympton left the table he would sit half the night over the old
Brympton port and madeira, and once, as I was leaving my mistress's
room rather later than usual, I met him coming up the stairs in such a
state that I turned sick to think of what some ladies have to endure
and hold their tongues about.

The servants said very little about their master; but from what they
let drop I could see it had been an unhappy match from the beginning.
Mr. Brympton was coarse, loud and pleasure-loving; my mistress quiet,
retiring, and perhaps a trifle cold. Not that she was not always
pleasant-spoken to him: I thought her wonderfully forbearing; but to a
gentleman as free as Mr. Brympton I daresay she seemed a little offish.

Well, things went on quietly for several weeks. My mistress was kind,
my duties were light, and I got on well with the other servants. In
short, I had nothing to complain of; yet there was always a weight on
me. I can't say why it was so, but I know it was not the loneliness
that I felt. I soon got used to that; and being still languid from the
fever, I was thankful for the quiet and the good country air.
Nevertheless, I was never quite easy in my mind. My mistress, knowing I
had been ill, insisted that I should take my walk regular, and often
inven