'Ay, you do, then! I've heard so much, one way and the other. It's nice
to know what those that's in it feel. But opinions vary, don't they? Mr
Crich up at Highclose is all for it. Ay, poor man, I'm afraid he's not
long for this world. He's very poorly.' 'Is he worse?' asked Ursula.
'Eh, yes--since they lost Miss Diana. He's gone off to a shadow. Poor
man, he's had a world of trouble.' 'Has he?' asked Gudrun, faintly ironic.
'He has, a world of trouble. And as nice and kind a gentleman as ever
you could wish to meet. His children don't take after him.' 'I suppose they take after their mother?' said Ursula.
'In many ways.' Mrs Krik lowered her voice a little. 'She was a proud
haughty lady when she came into these parts--my word, she was that! She
mustn't be looked at, and it was worth your life to speak to her.' The
woman made a dry, sly face.
'Did you know her when she was first married?' 'Yes, I knew her. I nursed three of her children. And proper little
terrors they were, little fiends--that Gerald was a demon if ever there
was one, a proper demon, ay, at six months old.' A curious malicious,
sly tone came into the woman's voice.
'Really,' said Gudrun.
'That wilful, masterful--he'd mastered one nurse at six months. Kick,
and scream, and struggle like a demon. Many's the time I've pinched his
little bottom for him, when he was a child in arms. Ay, and he'd have
been better if he'd had it pinched oftener. But she wouldn't have them
corrected--no-o, wouldn't hear of it. I can remember the rows she had
with Mr Crich, my word. When he'd got worked up, properly worked up
till he could stand no more, he'd lock the study door and whip them.
But she paced up and down all the while like a tiger outside, like a
tiger, with very murder in her face. She had a face that could LOOK
death. And when the door was opened, she'd go in with her hands
lifted--"What have you been doing to MY children, you coward." She was
like one out of her mind. I believe he was frightened of her; he had to
be driven mad before he'd lift a finger. Didn't the servants have a
life of it! And didn't we used to be thankful when one of them caught
it. They were the torment of your life.' 'Really!' said Gudrun.
'In every possible way. If you wouldn't let them smash their pots on
the table, if you wouldn't let them drag the kitten about with a string
round its neck, if you wouldn't give them whatever they asked for,
every mortal thing--then there was a shine on, and their mother coming
in asking--"What's the matter with him? What have you done to him? What
is it, Darling?" And then she'd turn on you as if she'd trample you
under her feet. But she didn't trample on me. I was the only one that
could do anything with her demons--for she wasn't going to be bothered
with them herself. No, SHE took no trouble for them. But they must just
have their way, they mustn't be spoken to. And Master Gerald was the
beauty. I left when he was a year and a half, I could stand no more.
But I pinched his little bottom for him when he was in arms, I did,
when there was no holding him, and I'm not sorry I did--' Gudrun went away in fury and loathing. The phrase, 'I pinched his
little bottom for him,' sent her into a white, stony fury. She could
not bear it, she wanted to have the woman taken out at once and
strangled. And yet there the phrase was lodged in her mind for ever,
beyond escape. She felt, one day, she would HAVE to tell him, to see
how he took it. And she loathed herself for the thought.