The Old Wives' Tale eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 811 pages of information about The Old Wives' Tale.

“Sophia,” she said, in a changed and solemn voice, fronting her daughter, and holding away from her apron those floured, ringed hands, “I don’t know what has come over you.  Truly I don’t!  Your father and I are prepared to put up with a certain amount, but the line must be drawn.  The fact is, we’ve spoilt you, and instead of getting better as you grow up, you’re getting worse.  Now let me hear no more of this, please.  I wish you would imitate your sister a little more.  Of course if you won’t do your share in the shop, no one can make you.  If you choose to be an idler about the house, we shall have to endure it.  We can only advise you for your own good.  But as for this ...”  She stopped, and let silence speak, and then finished:  “Let me hear no more of it.”

It was a powerful and impressive speech, enunciated clearly in such a tone as Mrs. Baines had not employed since dismissing a young lady assistant five years ago for light conduct.

“But, mother—­”

A commotion of pails resounded at the top of the stone steps.  It was Maggie in descent from the bedrooms.  Now, the Baines family passed its life in doing its best to keep its affairs to itself, the assumption being that Maggie and all the shop-staff (Mr. Povey possibly excepted) were obsessed by a ravening appetite for that which did not concern them.  Therefore the voices of the Baineses always died away, or fell to a hushed, mysterious whisper, whenever the foot of the eavesdropper was heard.

Mrs. Baines put a floured finger to her double chin.  “That will do,” said she, with finality.

Maggie appeared, and Sophia, with a brusque precipitation of herself, vanished upstairs.


“Now, really, Mr. Povey, this is not like you,” said Mrs. Baines, who, on her way into the shop, had discovered the Indispensable in the cutting-out room.

It is true that the cutting-out room was almost Mr. Povey’s sanctum, whither he retired from time to time to cut out suits of clothes and odd garments for the tailoring department.  It is true that the tailoring department flourished with orders, employing several tailors who crossed legs in their own homes, and that appointments were continually being made with customers for trying-on in that room.  But these considerations did not affect Mrs. Baines’s attitude of disapproval.

“I’m just cutting out that suit for the minister,” said Mr. Povey.

The Reverend Mr. Murley, superintendent of the Wesleyan Methodist circuit, called on Mr. Baines every week.  On a recent visit Mr. Baines had remarked that the parson’s coat was ageing into green, and had commanded that a new suit should be built and presented to Mr. Murley.  Mr. Murley, who had a genuine mediaeval passion for souls, and who spent his money and health freely in gratifying the passion, had accepted the offer strictly on behalf of Christ, and had carefully explained to Mr. Povey Christ’s use for multifarious pockets.

Project Gutenberg
The Old Wives' Tale from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
Follow Us on Facebook