"There is no mother-in-law in my case--it is my wife that has the mother-in-law," and he laughed in a grim, self-satisfied way.

The mother-in-law in question was not offended, far from it; she laughed too, and then answered: "Ay, the poor la.s.s has the mother-in-law, but you hae the mother, and be thankfu' for the gift and the grace o' her.

Your mother willna see you wronged, nor put upon. She'll back you up in a' that is for your authority and welfare. She will that!"

"Well, well! We were talking of Ducie."

"Ducie is the backer-up against you, and she be to go to her ain folks to-morrow. That is what I intend."

"I do not believe you will succeed in getting rid of her."

"If you will leave the matter entirely to me, I will rid the house o'

her."

With this question unsettled between them, it was easy to make trouble, and Robert was cowardly enough to leave it to the women, though he knew well that a few decisive words from himself would put an end to the dispute. Mrs. Campbell was glad he did not say them. She enjoyed the thought of the probable fray, and only waited until Robert had gone to business the next day to begin it.

"Jepson," she then said, "you will tell Ducie to come to my parlor at once."

Ducie was expecting this call, and she was in the mood to stand upon her rights, which released her from all obligations to obey Mrs. Traquair Campbell's orders. So she loitered in her room putting curls over her brow, in the way they were peculiarly offensive to Mrs. Campbell, adding to this saucy misdemeanor earrings, and two pink bows, a ring on her engagement finger, an embroidered ap.r.o.n, and slippers with rosettes holding a small imitation diamond buckle. Before these preparations were quite complete there was another very peremptory message for her, and she laughingly told Jepson to inform his mistress, that she "hadn't made up her mind yet, whether she would call on her, or not."

Jepson toned down this message to a respectful apology for delay, and Mrs. Campbell was on the point of sending another order, when Ducie entered her room.

"I sent for you to come _at once_. Why didn't you?"

"I was busy."

"What were you doing?"

"Dressing myself."

"You have dressed yourself like a fool."

"Please, ma'am, that is something you have nought to do with. My mistress told me how to dress. I am going out with her and Master David to dinner."

"Where are you going to dinner?"

"I was not bid to say where."

"You were bid _not_ to tell me."

"My mistress did not name you."

"You cannot go out. You will help McNab in the kitchen until two o'clock."

"I am not forced to do anything you tell me, ma'am, and I don't know as I ever will again."

"You are a lazy, impudent baggage."

"Now then, that will do, ma'am. You are the last that ought to speak of my laziness, for I've been working for you three months, and never got a sixpence, or a penny piece, for all I did. Thanks, I never expected; for it's only black words you keep by you; and as for black looks, if you could sell them by the yard, you might start an undertaking business."

"Do you know who you are talking to?"

"Yes, but I don't know as ever I talked with a worse woman."

"I will make you suffer for your impertinence."

"That's likely, for you hurt people out of pure wickedness."

"Your month is up to-day at five o'clock. You will help McNab until two.

Then you will pack your trunk, and come to me for your wage. There is a train for Kendal at four o'clock. You will take it. You will leave this house at half-past three."

"It caps all to listen to you. But the outside of this house is the _right_ side for anybody who expects decent treatment. I am going with my mistress at half-past eleven, and I shall come back here with her, when she returns. And thanks be, ma'am, I am not going to Kendal. I am going to be married, and teach one Glasgow man how to treat a wife."

"You will come to me at three o'clock for your month's wage."

"You did not hire me, ma'am, and I don't take my pay from you. My mistress is now waiting for me," and with these words she turned to leave the room.

"Ducie! Ducie! Come here instantly!"

But Ducie had closed the door, and did not hear, at least she did not answer. Then Mrs. Campbell followed her, and in something of a pa.s.sion a.s.sailed Theodora.

"That impudent wench of yours has been behaving most rudely to me, Dora.

I want her until two o'clock, can you not make her obey me?"

"I am going out to dinner, and need her very much. She has to take charge of David."

"Leave the boy at home."

"I cannot."

"Where are you going?"

"To Mrs. Oliphant's. They are dining early to-day, and I shall be home before dark."

"That will be too late. I must have her now."

"I cannot make her work for you, if she does not wish." Then turning to Ducie she asked, "if she would not obey Mrs. Campbell's desire?"

"No, ma'am," was the straight answer. "I would not lift a finger for Mrs. Campbell."

"You hear what she says."

"She has talked in the most shameful way to me. I think Jepson must have left the whiskey bottle around."

"Oh, no! Ducie hates whiskey. She would not touch it."

"Pay her what you owe her, and send her off."

"I have no money to pay anything."