'There's something awful in the timing o' that sound, ain't there, miss?' 'When you say there is, there really seems to be. You said there were two--what is the other horrid sound?' 'The pumping-engine. That's close by the Old House, and sends water up the hill and all over the Great House. We shall hear that directly. . . . There, now hark again.' From the same direction down the dell they could now hear the whistling creak of cranks, repeated at intervals of half-a-minute, with a sousing noise between each: a creak, a souse, then another creak, and so on continually.
'Now if anybody could make shift to live through the other sounds, these would finish him off, don't you think so, miss? That machine goes on night and day, summer and winter, and is hardly ever greased or visited. Ah, it tries the nerves at night, especially if you are not very well; though we don't often hear it at the Great House.' 'That sound is certainly very dismal. They might have the wheel greased. Does Miss Aldclyffe take any interest in these things?' 'Well, scarcely; you see her father doesn't attend to that sort of thing as he used to. The engine was once quite his hobby. But now he's getten old and very seldom goes there.' 'How many are there in family?' 'Only her father and herself. He's a' old man of seventy.' 'I had thought that Miss Aldclyffe was sole mistress of the property, and lived here alone.' 'No, m--' The coachman was continually checking himself thus, being about to style her miss involuntarily, and then recollecting that he was only speaking to the new lady's-maid.
'She will soon be mistress, however, I am afraid,' he continued, as if speaking by a spirit of prophecy denied to ordinary humanity.
'The poor old gentleman has decayed very fast lately.' The man then drew a long breath.
'Why did you breathe sadly like that?' said Cytherea.
'Ah! . . . When he's dead peace will be all over with us old servants. I expect to see the old house turned inside out.' 'She will marry, do you mean?' 'Marry--not she! I wish she would. No, in her soul she's as solitary as Robinson Crusoe, though she has acquaintances in plenty, if not relations. There's the rector, Mr. Raunham--he's a relation by marriage--yet she's quite distant towards him. And people say that if she keeps single there will be hardly a life between Mr.
Raunham and the heirship of the estate. Dang it, she don't care.
She's an extraordinary picture of womankind--very extraordinary.' 'In what way besides?' 'You'll know soon enough, miss. She has had seven lady's-maids this last twelvemonth. I assure you 'tis one body's work to fetch 'em from the station and take 'em back again. The Lord must be a neglectful party at heart, or he'd never permit such overbearen goings on!' 'Does she dismiss them directly they come!' 'Not at all--she never dismisses them--they go theirselves. Ye see 'tis like this. She's got a very quick temper; she flees in a passion with them for nothing at all; next mornen they come up and say they are going; she's sorry for it and wishes they'd stay, but she's as proud as a lucifer, and her pride won't let her say, "Stay," and away they go. 'Tis like this in fact. If you say to her about anybody, "Ah, poor thing!" she says, "Pooh! indeed!" If you say, "Pooh, indeed!" "Ah, poor thing!" she says directly. She hangs the chief baker, as mid be, and restores the chief butler, as mid be, though the devil but Pharaoh herself can see the difference between 'em.' Cytherea was silent. She feared she might be again a burden to her brother.