Rusk, who was at open
feud with her and had only room for the fiercer emotions, were more or less
afraid of this inauspicious foreigner.
Mrs. Rusk would say in her confidences in my room--
'Where does she come from?--is she a French or a Swiss one, or is she a
Canada woman? I remember one of _them_ when I was a girl, and a nice limb
_she_ was, too! And who did she live with? Where was her last family? Not
one of us knows nothing about her, no more than a child; except, of course,
the Master--I do suppose he made enquiry. She's always at hugger-mugger
with Anne Wixted. I'll pack that _one_ about her business, if she doesn't
mind. Tattling and whispering eternally. It's not about her own business
she's a-talking. Madame de la Rougepot, I call her. She _does_ know how to
paint up to the ninety-nines--she does, the old cat. I beg your pardon,
Miss, but _that_ she is--a devil, and no mistake. I found her out first by
her thieving the Master's gin, that the doctor ordered him, and filling the
decanter up with water--the old villain; but she'll be found out yet, she
will; and all the maids is afraid on her.
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