My way of living became the same again. Now as before I scrubbed the floor, washed the , and looked after the kitchen. Many times during my work I thought of my friend in London and secretly wished to be near her. There was one reason, however, why I could not really leave Marlow. It was this: that I was to return the money which I owed to my friend in Buda-Pesth; that was, of course, not easy for me, since my wages were only thirty shillings a month, and out of them I used also to help my parents. It is true that I had sent home less of late, because the conditions at home had gradually become more satisfactory, and my brother had also gone away. My parents had not heard from him for a long time. All they knew was that he had given up the hated profession of a waiter, and gone over seas to try his luck in another land. In one of his more recent letters my father had told me that he had received a newspaper from Brazil, containing the news of a most daring flight made by an named "Aranga."
this account, however, the following words were written in pencil, "Much love to all of you. I shall be all right as long as my is not broken."
To the above-mentioned purpose I now put away every farthing that I could save out of the thirty shillings, and the thought of sending my friend the amount of my debt made me exceedingly happy. Now to leave my situation and find another one in London would have certainly cost me money, and to spend even a single penny would have been to me. About that, however, I made no mention to my friend, but told him only of my occupation and so . His letters became very rare indeed, and of late contained nothing but reproaches at my apparent "waste of time."
"Have you," he asked, "gone over to England in order to learn how to cook? There was indeed no need for you to go to London just for that. You know how much I want to help on your education, and to develop your talent. Pray do not insist on sacrificing all your time to others. Try at least to find an engagement for the mornings somewhere in London, and study in the afternoons. I would, of course, support you in whatever way you require."
though such an offer may have been, I could not make up my mind to accept it, and so I returned with a sigh to my pots and pans. But in my heart of hearts I felt like the little boy in the story, who was for ever wishing that something might come along that would take him somewhere else. However, nothing came. One month passed after the other, and sometimes my feet felt very tired. By-and-by my heart grew weary too, and finally refused to tremble whenever the bell was rung; no longer did I fear, hope, and believe that he had come at last. But I was still waiting, waiting at the threshold of his soul, waiting for the wonderful moment when it would open, and he would step out to me with kindness on his lips and fulfilment in his eyes. Sometimes again there were hours when I almost regretted—hours when my most secret thoughts seemed to come to life and confront me with malicious-looking faces. "Why did you go away from him?" they would ask scornfully. Yes, why had I gone away from him? To get to know different people and different places? Of course, did not he himself wish it thus? Did not I myself want it thus? Want it thus? And after every drop of blood within me had set its "No" against that question, the scornful voices rose again: "And if you did not want to go away why, then, did you go?" And all at once I knew it, and my cheeks flushed with an unaccustomed glow, and my heart was filled with an unaccustomed sorrow. Thus disputing with myself, time passed on.
It happened one night, when I could not go to sleep though I had worked hard all day long, that I lay awake in bed, and thought and thought until all good and evil spirits had gathered around me. Like so many hands they reached down into my thoughts, , pulling, and tearing them about, and when they had gone, there were red letters floating about in the darkness of the room, forming themselves to a question at the end, and the question was:
"May I come back again?"
"Why not?" I said, shaking my fists towards the glowing signs; "is not our friendship so pure, so marvellously wonderful?" ... At that a wreath of flames encircled every letter, and when I read again I trembled.
"That is just why," it said; and behind the letters there rose up a beautiful, light. But I would neither see the light nor the writing, and closed my eyes like an child. Other nights followed similar to that one, and by-and-by all things seemed to enter into against me. My own self seemed to hate and me—seemed to from me the last faint hope, which I would not surrender. But in moments of greatest he himself would come to my help. As if up by some magic world he stood amongst the monsters, towering above them all.
"Do you believe in me?" he asked, gazing at me with the look and giving me his kindest smile.
"Yes, I believe," I answered, raising up these words as I had seen, when a child, the priest raise up the golden monstrance, and at that my host of tormentors grew quiet, as the congregation did at church.
Of all that my friend knew nothing.
Just as we had never in our personal said anything to disclose our innermost thought or feeling, our letters remained equally distant and cool, with perhaps only a line now and again, which failed to hide our or grief.
But on those lines we lived—or I at least. Those lines held out to me all and everything—imparted to my soul all the strength and sweetness that it needed to persuade the weary limbs to do their dull, daily work once more. And thus it happened that I was sometimes even happy, that, with a smile in my eyes, I cleaned the pots until they all shone, and scarcely felt the cold when, early on a winter morning, I knelt down to wash the steps outside the house. But the most beautiful moment was when in the evening I took my little -box and spread its contents on my bed. That money I regarded as my greatest treasure, always hiding it away most anxiously, and I should have been inconsolable if I had lost it by any .
I was determined to leave Marlow as soon as I had saved all the money to cover my debt, and a little over to last me until I had found a suitable situation in London. Things, however, did not turn out in accordance with my expectations.
For some time back my mistress had intended to send her daughter to a school abroad, and all at once she made up her mind to do so. She did not care to live in the large house all by herself, and told me that she was going to shut it up and travel about. Since all the money I still wanted did not amount to more than fifty to sixty shillings, I felt much grieved when she told me of her intentions, because there was no possibility now of sending the money off in a few months as I had hoped to be able to do. But soon I grew more quiet about it, comforting myself with the hope of finding another situation very quickly, and of being able after all to return the money in the shortest time possible.
Thus it came to pass that I left the house, where for eighteen months I had been happy and unhappy in so a fashion; and when I looked round my room for the last time I felt the tears spring into my eyes, and I went downstairs bitterly. After having arrived in London, I went to the home to see my friend. She welcomed me most , but could do nothing else for me. The next thing I wanted to do now was to find a situation in order to spend as little of my savings as possible.
I called again on the elderly lady who had given me my first post, and after the usual greetings and necessary explanations she said:
"Since you have been in England for some time, and also possess a reference given by an English lady, it will not be difficult to find something suitable for you. What kind of a situation do you prefer?"
I thought of the sixty shillings which I wanted to earn as quickly as possible, and said that I did not mind in the least, but should feel happy if I could get an opportunity to speak a little English.
"Should you like to take a post as an under-nurse?"
I had never heard of an under-nurse before, and did not quite know what she meant.
"What's an under-nurse?"
"Well, you would like it no doubt, because the head-nurse is an Englishwoman, so you would have plenty of opportunity to speak English."
After that I asked for the particulars, which she gave me in full.
"It is best for you," she said, "to go there and show yourself to the lady. If you like the post then well and good, but should you not care for it, then come back again."
She handed me the address and I went on my way. It seemed to be tremendously far, and when, after much looking and asking, I at last pulled the bell of a pretty house, I felt dead tired. A neat-looking parlour-maid inquired my wishes, invited me to step in, and told me to wait. I sat down on one of the upright oak chairs, and in my heart of hearts hoped that the lady might not come immediately. But she appeared very soon, and was most kind and gracious. After she had asked me a few questions she told me that she would like to engage me, but could not do so before the head-nurse had seen me. But the head-nurse was out with the children, so would I either wait or come again? I to wait, after which she left me to myself, and inwardly I prayed to God that He might make the head-nurse like me too. A little while afterwards I could hear much shouting and yelling, and the lady came in to tell me that the head-nurse had returned. She asked me to follow her upstairs, where we were met by four boys, about five, seven, nine, and eleven years, who had come to some disagreement which they seemed unable to put right. A very thin-looking woman, whom I guessed to be the head-nurse, tried to quiet them, a task that proved only successful after she had produced a long , the sight of which had an effect upon the four brothers. The head-nurse put the cane very carefully into a corner and listened to what her mistress told her about me. Now and again she looked at me, and with much comfort and relief I noticed that she seemed to like me.
The lady then explained to me what I would have to do, and I felt a growing alarm the longer she . But when she asked me in the end whether I would like to take the post, I thought again of the sixty shillings and said I should like to come.
I started my new situation two days later. If I had no idea of the position of an under-nurse before, I was to get it now. I found out quickly that among the four servants of the house, I was considered to be the most one, and each of the three other servants[Pg 261] made me feel this. Owing to the fact that I spoke English imperfectly, and neither the cook nor the parlour-maid were fond of foreigners, they teased and me at every possible opportunity. Furthermore, they made me do all the work that they themselves did not care to do, such as bringing up coal from the cellar and so forth. In order to get on with them, I did everything. But the nights proved to be even more terrible than the days. I had to sleep in one room with the cook and the parlour-maid, and many times I set my teeth when I thought of my own little room at Marlow. The two girls used to chat together until midnight, relating all about their lovers, and mentioning, I am sure, every name for boys which is to be found in the calendar. The one of whom I was the most afraid was the cook. She was terribly rude, and often raised her hands as if to beat me whenever I did not do a thing to her entire satisfaction.
However, every cup of sorrow contains its drop of mirth, and my happiness arose from the cook's outings and her love-letters. The fact is that when she received a letter from one of her many adorers she was kind even to me.
One day a soldier presented her with a silver brooch, and she was so nice that day to me that I almost liked her in the evening. But when it happened that a day or more passed without having brought her a token of some kind she became furious, and her spiteful rage was beyond all bounds. While I still lived at Marlow I had often stood and watched for the postman, hoping secretly that he might bring something for me, but now I stood and watched for him, filled only with the longing that he might have something for the cook; and I think that now is the right moment, and here the right place, to express my thanks to all the policemen, soldiers, milkmen, butchers and others, who were happy enough to come within scope of the cook's interest and consideration, for the numbers of letters and cards which they despatched to her without knowing that they had made me happy too.
One day there was a great row in the kitchen, and the parlour-maid left the same day. The new parlour-maid was a very pale and ill-looking girl, but she worked very hard. She was never rude to me. I liked her for that and felt sorry for her because she looked so weak. One evening, when the cook had her outing, and we lay alone in our room, the parlour-maid began to most piteously.
"What's the matter?" I asked her, and after some she told me that her sweetheart was lying on the point of death in a hospital for consumption. Then she pulled a letter from behind her pillow and handed it over to me. I lit the candle and by its light I read the lines. Brave yet desperate words of a dying man, together with a poem, which with the unspeakable longing for health and life, and disclosed the most sweet and most lovable thoughts.
"I am sure," I said, trying hard to my emotion—"I am sure he will get well again."
"No; he is there where only the dying are."
Her eyes were dry when she said that, and only her lips trembled. I put out the light and . From that evening I helped her as much as I could with her work, although I had plenty to do myself.
One night she roused us from our sleep with a terrible scream, and looking round her wildly, she said she was sure that "he" had called for her. On the morning she asked for half a day off, but she returned no more.
After I had been at my post for about six months, I went one day to the post-office to have a letter registered. The letter was addressed to my friend in Buda-Pesth and contained the money which I owed to him. But it contained something else beside that&md............