Mrs. Platt was a woman of some substance whose late husband had entertained Dr. Trefusis and Mr. Gitney upon occasion. The widow was trapped now within the city, so lost in her grief at the death of her spouse some months before that she had lacked all motivation to flee when General Gage declared military rule. Her servants had been dismissed, save three; and one of those three had died of the smallpox a se’nnight previous. She now had a single maidservant, devoted to her since youth, and an aging manservant, Jacob, previously of the stables, who performed all heavy labor about the house.
Everything was in a state of disarray — sewing projects abandoned upon the spinnet, shutters drawn, dogs sleeping on the settee, dirty plates and platters still lain on the table, the food crusted to their rims. The neglect of the dishes, I discovered, was due to a curious impasse: Sally, the maid, now serving also as cook, refused to clean dishes, despising the lowly office of scullion. Madam Platt could not countenance this insubordination, but neither could she insist upon service when she could not pay a farthing in wages. Thus, the dignity of both women demanded that they never speak of dishes nor of swabbing. Mrs. Platt simply moved to a different seat at the dining table each night, was served there, and, without a word, left the plates for some future period. Thus, she distributed behind her, rotating through the room, a record of her meals, a calendar in rinds and cores.
We conducted Dr. Trefusis up to the bedroom and laid him in the bed in his shirt. He being settled and falling swiftly into a shivering sleep, I quitted the chamber and repaired downstairs. Amply did I render thanks to Mrs. Platt for the beneficence of her entertainment of my master.
“Pho, don’t speak of it,” she said. “But he does have coin? Upon his person? Because I cannot pay for so much as victuals now, the salt-meat is become so dear. We are starving. No person will extend us credit.” She hugged herself, her arms wrapped hard around her stomacher. Her looks were drawn and pallid. “He is possessed of the money?”
I did not know how to answer her, being startled by her forwardness and unversed in the telling of lies.
My silence served the purpose.
She took it as a reproof, and held up a hand. “My apologies,” said she, shaking her head. “Dr. Trefusis is a gentleman of quality. I do not doubt his word. You will forgive my anxiety. This strife and bombs have made me run distracted.”
I bowed my head and indicated that we could not but be gratified at hospitality so seasonable and generosity of so open a character.
“Yes. Yes, yes. You are welcome to rest in this house until your master’s work takes him onwards. Is he pursuing some philosophical theme?”
“He inquires always,” I said, “into the nature of right and wrong; which is the issue in this present contest.”
“Indeed,” she said, but she was no longer listening, wiping dirt off a picture-frame with her finger.
I bowed again and set off. It was imperative that I swiftly find employment, having no coin nor credit nor property for barter. It appeared that not simply Dr. Trefusis and I, but also our new hostess, depended upon what work I might find.