Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England
The Gold that GlittersThe Mistakes of Jenny Lavender
By Emily Sarah Holt________________________________________________________________________The action in this little book comes just at the point in BritishHistory where Charles the First had been executed, and his son and heirwas on the run. The famous incident where Colonel Lane hides the youngKing up in an oak tree was recently past.
Young Jenny is a sixteen-year-old living on a farm, but she has reachedthe age where so many teenagers have disagreements with their parents,and she decides to find a way to leave home. So she takes a job as alady's maid in Colonel Lane's household, which of course is a bit of asnub to her as she is treated in the servants' hierarchy as so low sheis not even allowed to speak at meals. Eventually she finds that she islearning to handle these conventions, and is even quite enjoying herwork. But one day the Lane family decide they must leave Britain, andgo to France, so Jenny is to get her notice. The book is not long, andthere is not room in it for many developments, but she does eventuallygo back home, where everyone is very glad to have her back, not leasther boy-friend. NH________________________________________________________________________
THE GOLD THAT GLITTERSTHE MISTAKES OF JENNY LAVENDER
BY EMILY SARAH HOLT
CHAPTER ONE.
JENNY PREPARES TO GO A-JOURNEYING.
"Jenny, my dear maid, thou wilt never fetch white meal out of a sack ofsea-coal." Jenny tossed her head. It would have been a nice littlebrown head, if it had not been quite so fond of tossing itself. ButJenny was just sixteen, and laboured under a delusion which besets youngfolks of that age--namely, that half the brains in the world had gotinto her head, and very few had been left in her grandmother's.
"I don't know what you mean, Grandmother," said Jenny, as anaccompaniment to that toss.
"O Jenny, Jenny! what a shocking thing of you to say, when you knew whatyour grandmother meant as well as you knew your name was Jane Lavender!"
"I rather think thou dost, my lass," said old Mrs Lavender quietly.
"Well, I suppose you mean to run down Mr Featherstone," said Jenny,pouting. "You're always running him down. And there isn't a bit of usein it--not with me. I like him, and I always shall. He's such agentleman, and always so soft-spoken. But I believe you like thatclod-hopper Tom Fenton, ever so much better. I can't abide him."
"There's a deal more of the feather than the stone about RobinFeatherstone, lass. If he be a stone, he's a rolling one. Hasn't hebeen in three places since he came here?"
"Yes, because they didn't use him right in none of 'em. Wanted him todo things out of his place, and such like. Why, at Hampstead Hall, theyset him to chop wood."
"Well, why not?" asked Mrs Lavender, knitting away.
"Because it wasn't his place," answered Jenny, indignantly. "It madehis hands all rough, and he's that like a gentleman he couldn't standit."
"Tom Fenton would have done it, I shouldn't wonder."
"As if it would have mattered to Tom Fenton, with his great red hands!They couldn't be no rougher than they are, if he chopped wood whileChristmas. Besides, it's his trade--wood-chopping is. MrFeatherstone's some'at better nor a carpenter."
"They're honest hands, if they are red, Jenny."
"And he's a cast in his eyes."
"Scarcely. Anyhow, he's none in his heart."
"And his nose turns up!"
"Not as much as thine, Jenny."
"Mine!" cried Jenny, in angry amazement, "Grandmother, what will you saynext? My nose is as straight as--as the church tower."
"Maybe it is, in general, my lass. But just now thou art turning it upat poor Tom."
"`Poor Tom,' indeed!" said Jenny, in a disgusted tone. "He'd best notcome after me, or I'll `poor Tom' him. I want none of him, I can tellyou."
"Well, Jenny, don't lose thy temper over Tom, or Robin either. Thou'rtlike the most of maids--they'll never heed the experience of old folks.If thou wilt not be `ruled by the rudder, thou must be ruled by therock.' `All is not gold that glitters,' and I'm afeard thou shalt findit so, poor soul! But I can't put wisdom into thee; I can only pray theLord to give it thee. Be thy bags packed up?"
"Ay," said Jenny, rather sulkily.
"And all ready to set forth?"
"There's just a few little things to see to yet."
"Best go and see to them, then."
Mrs Lavender knitted quietly on, and Jenny shut the door with a littlemore of a slam than it quite needed, and ran up to her own room, whereshe slept with her elder sister.
"Jenny, thy bags are not locked," said her sister, as she came in.
"Oh, let be, Kate, do! Grandmother's been at me with a whole heap ofher old saws, till I'm worn out. I wish nobody had ever spoke one of'em."
"What's the matter?"
"Oh, she's at me about Robin Featherstone: wants me to give up keepingcompany with him, and all that. Tom Fenton's her pattern man, and apretty pattern he is. I wouldn't look at him if there wasn't anotherman in Staffordshire. Robin's a gentleman, and Tom's a clown."
"I don't see how you are to give up Robin, when you are going into thevery house where he lives."
"Of course not. 'Tis all rubbish! I wish old women would hold theirtongues. I'm not going to Bentley Hall to sit mewed up in my mistress'chamber, turning up the whites of my eyes, and singing Psalms through mynose. I mean to lead a jolly life there, I can tell you, for allGrandmother. It really is too bad of old folks, that can't knock aboutand enjoy their lives, to pen up young maids like so many sheep. Ishall never be young but once, and I want some pleasure in my life."
"All right," said Kate lightly. "I scarce think they turn up the whitesof their eyes at Bentley Hall. Have your fling, Jenny--only don't go_too_ far, look you."
"I can take care of myself, thank you," returned Jenny scornfully."Lock that striped bag for me, Kate, there's a darling; there's fathercalling downstairs."
And Jenny ran off, to cry softly in a high treble to Kate, a minuteafterwards--"Supper!"
Supper was spread in the large kitchen of the farmhouse. Jenny's fatherwas a tenant farmer, his landlord being Colonel Lane, of Bentley Hall,and it was to be maid (or, as they said then, "lady's woman") to theColonel's sister, that Jenny was going to the Hall. Mrs Jane was muchyounger than her brother, being only six years older than Jenny herself.In the present day she would be called Miss Jane, but in 1651 onlylittle girls were termed _Miss_. Jenny had always been rather a pet,both with Mrs Lane and her daughter; for she was a bright child, wholearned easily, and could repeat the Creed and the Ten Commandments asglibly as possible when she was only six years old. Unhappily, lessonswere apt to run out of Jenny's head as fast as they ran in, except whenfrequently demanded; but the Creed and the Commandments had to staythere, for every Saturday night she was called on to repeat them to herGrandmother, and every Sunday afternoon she had to say them at thecatechising in church. In Jenny's head, therefore, they remained; butdown to Jenny's heart they never penetrated.
It was only now that Mrs Jane was setting up a maid for herself.Hitherto she had been served by her mother's woman; but now she wasgoing on a visit to some relatives near Bristol, and it was thoughtproper that she should have a woman of her own. And when the questionwas asked where the maid should be sought, Mrs Jane had said atonce--"Oh, let me have little Jenny Lavender!"
Farmer Lavender was not quite so ready to let Jenny go as Mrs Jane wasto ask it. Bristol seemed to him a long way off, and, being a town,most likely a wicked place. Those were days in which people made theirwills before they took a journey of a hundred miles; and no wonder, whenthe roads were so bad that men had frequently to be hired to wal
k besidea gentleman's carriage, and give it a push to either side, when itshowed an inclination to topple over; or oxen sometimes were fetched, topull the coach out of a deep quagmire of mud, from which only one halfof it was visible. So Farmer Lavender shook his head, and said "hedidn't know, no, he didn't, whether he'd let his little maid go." ButMrs Jane was determined--and so was Jenny; and between them theyconquered the farmer, though his old mother was on the prudent side.This was Friday, and Mrs Jane was to leave home on Tuesday; and onSaturday afternoon, Robert Featherstone, Colonel Lane's valet, whomJenny thought such a gentleman, was to come for her and her luggage.
If a gentleman be a man who never does any useful thing that he canhelp, then Mr Robin Featherstone was a perfect gentleman--much more sothan his master, who was ready to put his hand to any work that wanteddoing. Mr Featherstone thought far more of his elegant white handsthan the Colonel did of his, and oiled his chestnut locks at least threetimes as often. He liked the Colonel's service, because he had verylittle to do, and there were plenty of people in the house as idle andfeather-pated as himself. Colonel Lane was in Robin's eyes a goodmaster, though old Mrs Lavender thought him a bad one. That is, heallowed his servants to neglect their work with very little censure, andtook no notice of their employments during their leisure hours. AndSatan was not a bit less busy in 1651 than he is in 1895, in findingmischief for idle hands to do. Leisure time is to a man what he choosesto make it--either a great blessing or a great curse. And just then,for those who chose the last, the disturbed and unsettled state of thecountry offered particular opportunities.
The war between the King and the Parliament was just over. Charles theFirst had been beheaded at Whitehall nearly two years before; and thoughhis son, Charles the Second, was still in England, fighting to recoverhis father's kingdom, it was pretty plainly to be seen that his strugglewas a hopeless one. The great battle of Worcester, which ended the longconflict, had been fought about three weeks before, and the young Kinghad only just escaped with his life, through the bravery of his gallanttroops, who made a desperate stand in the street, keeping the victors atbay while their commander fled to a place of concealment.
The Cavaliers, as Charles's troops were called, had few virtues beyondtheir loyalty and courage. After their dispersion at Worcester, theyspread over the country in small parties, begging, stealing, orcommitting open ravages. Many of the Parliamentary troops--not all--were grave, sensible, God-fearing men, who were only concerned to dowhat they believed was right and righteous. Much fewer of the Cavaliershad any such aim, beyond their devotion to the monarchy, and theirenthusiastic determination to uphold it. They were mostly gay,rollicking fellows, with little principle, and less steadfastness, whosquandered their money on folly, if nothing worse; and then helpedthemselves to other people's goods without any uneasiness of conscience.
Colonel Lane was a Cavalier, and devoted to the King, and most of histenants were Cavaliers also. A few were Roundheads--staunch adherentsof the Parliament; and a few more had no very strong convictions oneither side, and while they chiefly preferred the monarchy, would havebeen content with any settlement which allowed them to live honest andpeaceable lives. Old Mrs Lavender belonged to this last class. Ifasked which side she was on, she would have said, "For the King"; but inher heart she had no enmity to either. Her son was a warmer politician;Jenny, being sixteen, was a much warmer still, and as RobinFeatherstone, her hero, was a Cavalier, so of course was she.
We have given the worthy farmer and his family a good while to sit downto supper, which that night included a kettle of furmety, a mermaid pie,and a taffaty tart. What were they? A very reasonable question,especially as to the mermaid pie, since mermaids are rather scarcearticles in the market. Well, a mermaid pie was made of pork and eels,and was terribly rich and indigestible; a taffaty tart was an apple-pie,seasoned with lemon-peel and fennel-seed; and the receipt for furmety--avery famous and favourite dish with our forefathers--I give as it standsin a curious little book, entitled, _The Compleat Cook_, printed in1683.
"Take a quart of cream, a quarter of a pound of French barley, thewhitest you can get, and boyl it very tender in three or four severalwaters, and let it be cold; then put both together. Put into it a bladeof mace, a nutmeg cut in quarters, a race of ginger cut in four or fivepieces, and so let it boyl a good while, still stirring, and season itwith sugar to your taste; then take the yolks of four eggs, and beatthem with a little cream, and stir them into it, and so let it boyl alittle after the eggs are in: then have ready blanched and beaten twentyalmonds (kept from oyling), with a little rosewater; then take a boulterstrainer, and rub your almonds with a little of your furmety through thestrainer, but set on the fire no more: and stir in a little salt, and alittle sliced nutmeg, pickt out of the great pieces of it, and put it ina dish, and serve it."
The farmhouse family consisted only of Farmer Lavender, his mother, andhis two daughters, Kate and Jenny. But fifteen people sat down tosupper: for the whole household, including the farmer's men down to thelittle lad who scared the crows, all ate together in the big kitchen.Mrs Lavender sat at the head of the table, the farmer at the other end,with Jenny on his right hand: for there was in the father's heart a verywarm place for his motherless Jenny.
"All ready to set forth, my lass?" he said gently--perhaps a littlesadly. "Yes, Father, all ready."
"Art thou glad to go, child?"
"I'd like well to see the world, Father."
"Well, well! I mind the time when I'd ha' been pleased enough to havethy chance, my lass. Be a good girl, and forget not the good ways thygrandmother has learned thee, and then I cast no doubt thou'lt do well."
Jenny assented with apparent meekness, inwardly purposing to forget themas fast as she could. She ran into the garden when supper was over, togather a nosegay, if possible, of the few flowers left at that time ofyear. She was just tucking a bit of southernwood into her bodice, whena voice on the other side of the hedge said softly,--
"Jenny."
"Well, what do you want, Tom Fenton?" responded Jenny, in a tone whichwas not calculated to make her visitor feel particularly welcome.
It was one of Jenny's standing grievances against Tom, that he wouldcall her by her name. Robin Featherstone called her plain "Mrs Jenny,"which pleased her vanity much better.
"You're really going to-morrow, Jenny?"
"Of course I am," said Jenny.
"You'll forget me, like as not," said Tom, earnestly hoping to becontradicted.
"Of course I shall," replied Jenny flippantly.
"I wish you wouldn't, Jenny," said Tom, with a meek humility that shouldhave disarmed Jenny's resentment, but only increased it. Like manyother foolish people, Jenny was apt to mistake pert speeches forcleverness, and gentleness for want of manly spirit. "I wish youwouldn't, Jenny. There isn't a soul as thinks as much of you as I do,not in all the country-side. Nor there isn't one as 'll miss you likeme."
"I just wish you'd take up with somebody else, and give over plaguingme," said Jenny mercilessly. "There's Ruth Merston, and Dolly Campion,and Abigail--"
"I don't want ne'er a one on 'em," answered Tom, in a rather hurt tone."I've never thought, not a minute, o' nobody but you, Jenny, not sincewe was a little lad and lass together. I've always loved you, Jenny.Haven't you ne'er a kind word for me afore we part? May be a long dayere we shall meet again."
"I'm sure I hope it will," said Jenny, half vexed at Tom's pertinacity,and half amusing herself, for she thought it good fun to tease him.
"Don't you care the least bit for me, Jenny, dear?"
"No, I don't. Why should I?"
"But you used, Jenny, once. Didn't you, now? That day I brought youthem blue ribbons you liked so well, you said--don't you mind what yousaid, dear heart?"
"I said a deal o' nonsense, I shouldn't wonder. Don't be a goose, Tom!You can't think to bind a girl to what she says when you give her blueribbons."
"I'd be bound to what I said, ribbons or no
ribbons," said Tom firmly."But I see how it is--it's that scented idiot, Featherstone, has comebetwixt you and me. O Jenny, my dear love, don't you listen to him!He'll not be bound to a word he says the minute it's not comfortable tokeep it. He'll just win your heart, Jenny, and then throw you o' oneside like a withered flower, as soon as ever he sees a fresh one assuits him better. My dear maid--"
"I'm sure I'm mighty obliged to you, Mr Fenton!" said Jenny, reallyangry now. "It's right handsome of you to liken me to a witheredflower. Mr Featherstone's a gentleman in a many of his ways, andthat's more nor you are, and I wish you good evening."
"Jenny, my dear, don't 'ee, now--"
But Jenny was gone.
Tom turned sorrowfully away. Before he had taken two steps, he wasarrested by a kindly voice.
"You made a mistake, there, Tom," it said. "But don't you lose heart;it isn't too bad to be got over."
Tom stopped at once, and went back to the hedge, whence that kindlyvoice had spoken.
"Is that you, Kate?" he said.
"Ay," answered the voice of Jenny's sister. Kate was not a very wisegirl, but she was less flighty and foolish than Jenny; and she had akind heart, which made her always wish to help anyone in trouble. "Tom,don't be in a taking; but you've made a mistake, as I said. You knownot how to handle such a maid as Jenny."
"What should I have said, Kate? I'm fair beat out of heart, and you'llmake me out of charity with myself if you tell me 'tis my own fault."
"Oh, not so ill as that, Tom! But next time she bids you go and take upwith somebody else, just tell her you mean to do so, and `there are asgood fish in the sea as ever came out of it.' That's the way to tacklethe likes of her; not to look struck into the dumps, and fetch sighslike a windmill."
"But I don't mean it, Kate," said Tom, looking puzzled.
"Oh, be not so peevish, Tom! Can't you _say_ so?"
"No," answered Tom, with sudden gravity; "I can't, truly. I've alwaylooked for Jenny to be my wife one day, ever since I was as high asthose palings; but I'll not win her by untruth. There'd be no blessingfrom the Lord on that sort of work. I can't, Kate Lavender."
"Well, I never did hear the like!" exclaimed Kate. "You can't think somuch of Jenny as I reckoned you did, if you stick at nought in thatway."
"I think more of Jenny than of anyone else in the world, Kate, and youknow it," said Tom, with a dignity which Kate could not help feeling."But I think more yet of Him that's above the world. No, no! If ever Iwin Jenny--and God grant I may I--I'll win her righteously, not lyingly.I thank you for your good meaning, all the same."
"Good even to you both!" said an old man's voice; and they turned to seethe speaker coming down the lane. He was a venerable-looking man, cladin a long brown coat, girt to him by a band of rough leather; his long,silvery hair fell over his shoulders, and under his arm was a large,clasped book, in a leather cover which had seen much service.
"Uncle Anthony!" cried Tom. "I knew not you were back. Are you on yourway up the hill? Here, prithee, leave me carry your book. Good even,Kate, and I thank you!"
"Good even!" said Kate, with a nod to both; and Tom tucked the big bookunder his own arm, and went forward with the traveller.
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