Free The Stepson by Martin Armstrong

don’t say ma’am. Why should you? It’s making me into what I’m not.’
    â€˜You’re not looking happy this morning,’ said Mrs. Jobson.
    â€˜Well, I’m not very happy,’ confessed Kate. ‘I’m feeling … well, a little lonely.’ Tears suddenly gathered in her eyes.
    The old woman sat down beside Kate and put an arm round her shoulders. ‘But we can’t have you being unhappy, my dear,’ she said. ‘Why should youfeel lonely? There’s plenty of us round about, even though we haven’t much time for talking, perhaps — not, that is, till the work’s done. Don’t you think, perhaps, it’s because you want something to do? I can never be happy myself, you know, unless I’m kept pretty busy. Perhaps you’re the same.’
    Kate nodded. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘That’s what it is. But what can I do?’
    â€˜Why, you can do whatever you like, my dear. You’re mistress here. You’ve only got to say.’
    â€˜But I don’t want to do things just to occupy the time,’ said Kate. ‘I don’t even want to be able to choose. I want to do something that’s got to be done. You see, I’ve always been accustomed to work, Mrs. Jobson. Why, only look at my hands.’ She held out her strong, work-worn hands to Mrs. Jobson, smiling. ‘I thought, when I knew I was going to marry Mr. Humphrey,’ she went on, ‘that I should enjoy doing nothing. I’d had a bit too much work at home, you see; or rather, not too much work perhaps, but too little pleasure to go with it. But if you have no work, it seems to me now as if you can’t have any pleasure, either. I’m not meant for a lady, seemingly. Won’t you give me something to do that’s part of the work here? I don’t like to interfere, you see, even though I may be the mistress; but I have eyes enough to see that you do the work of six yourself. Why shouldn’t I do some of your work?’
    Mrs. Jobson laughed and patted Kate’s shoulder.She was touched by this beautiful, unhappy young woman who so humbly appealed to her for help, so unlike the new mistress whose arrival she had looked forward to with some apprehension when old Ben Humphrey had told her that he was going to marry a young woman.
    â€˜Why, yes,’ she replied, ‘I’ve more than enough to get through in the day. The kitchen and the dairy by themselves keep me pretty busy. Of course, I have Emma to help me, but she doesn’t do much unless she’s watched.’
    At the mention of Emma, Kate’s brows drew together for a moment and the ghost flitted across her gaze. ‘Then tell me how I can best help you,’ she said.
    Mrs. Jobson thought for a moment. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘there’s the fowls, and looking after the linen, and the mending too, of course; and there’s the dairy — the milk and the cream and the butter. The butter isn’t easy, of course, at first. A really first-rate butter-maker’s by no means common; but you can learn. I could teach you, if you wished. Though I’m not one for boasting as a rule — still, I
will
say you’ll find no butter as good as mine anywhere in these parts. So you see, you’ve only got to choose. I’d be very thankful for your help, I don’t mind saying. So just please yourself. Which is it to be?’
    Kate smiled. ‘I’ll be very glad to take on all you’ve mentioned. And if you find one or two other littlethings, I can do them too when I’ve finished the rest.’
    And next day Kate began to work. At first Ben had expostulated with her. He who worked so hard himself, and saw to it that every one else on the farm worked hard too, was curiously reluctant that Kate should do her share. He had a secret, old-man’s desire that this latest love of his should be something apart from his daily life, and