Free The Magnificent Masquerade by Elizabeth Mansfield

the chore of dusting and airing the room, told her that Miss
Jessup was visiting the sickly Miss Alicia. "Jemmy tol'   Lily, an' Lily tol' me that Miss Jessup was
fixin' Miss Alicia a tisane."
    "Fixing a tisane?" Kitty echoed in
horror. "Good God! Whatever for?"
    The housemaid shrugged. "Sounds a queer
start't' me," she confided, gathering up her dustmop and broom. "We'd
'eard, downstairs, that Miss Jessup was a real high flyer. But some one who
likes't' spend 'er time makin' tisanes don't sound like a high flyer't'
me."
    "Nor to me," Kitty muttered under her
breath. She'd have to give Emily a good talking-to.
    But Emily did not return to her room in time to
receive Kitty's scold. Kitty emptied the large portmanteau, the boxes, and all
the packages her parents had sent and stowed away all the contents, but still
Emily did not appear. The hour the butler had given her was almost gone. There
was nothing Kitty could do but lay out a gown for Emily to wear to dinner and
go down and face Mr. Naismith. She only hoped he would finish with her in time
to permit her to return and assist Emily to dress for dinner. She had a strong
feeling that Emily would be in dire need of her assistance and advice. She was
halfway down the main staircase when she realized she should have taken the
back way down. Fortunately, no one was about. She scrambled back upstairs and
searched for the servants' staircase, nervously opening the doors of two
unoccupied bedrooms before finally coming upon the passageway that contained
the stairs. With a sigh of relief, she ran quickly down.
    The stairs led directly to the servants' hall.
It was a huge, dark room with a high vaulted ceiling on which the smoke of
hundreds of years of cooking had accumulated. The room was gloomily lit by
several windows placed high on the walls, but Kitty had to admit that, except
for the ceiling which was unreachable, the entire place was scrupulously clean.
It was evidently used both as a kitchen and a dining room for the servants, for
in the wall directly opposite the door in which she stood was an enormous
fireplace that Kitty could see was used for cooking; it contained a number of
frying pans, griddles, pots, and kettles which hung from chains over the fire.
But there was also a large Rumford stove (similar to the one her mother had
bought for the Birkinshaw kitchen) on which something was boiling. Whatever it
was emitted a deliciously aromatic smell of sage and onions, reminding Kitty
that she hadn't eaten since morning and was now painfully hungry. But if she
was to spend time being scolded by the butler, and if then she had to help
Emily dress for dinner, and if the staff then would be busy serving that
dinner, it might be very late before anyone would think of offering her
something to eat. She wondered for the first time in her life when the servants
had time to take their meals.
    The only persons she could see from her vantage
point in the doorway were the cook-a tall, muscular, red-faced female who was
so busily kneading dough at a worktable near the stove that she took no notice
of Kitty at all-and three scullery maids who were assisting her. One was
hovering over the cook's shoulder, adding flour to the dough whenever the cook
nodded her head. The second was sitting on a stool on the opposite side of the
worktable, scraping carrots. The third was setting mugs at each place of an
ancient and very long dining table in the center of the room. This was
evidently where the servants took their meals. The sight of the servants' table
being set gave Kitty a glimmer of hope-perhaps she'd be permitted to eat soon.
    She was about to ask the scullery maid when the
servants' dinner was served when a rebuking cough, coming from somewhere above
her, reminded her of why she was there. "Well, girl, how long do you
intend to linger down there?" came the butler's voice. She stepped into
the room and turned in the direction of the voice. She discovered Naismith
standing above her on a