CHAPTER IX.
When Isola had told Mrs. Shelfer everything, and a little more thaneverything (for her imagination was lively), the dominant feeling in thelittle woman's bosom was not indignation, as we had expected, butterror. Terror of two evils; the first and chief evil, the possibilityof Charley catching cold; the other, the probability that he would crushConrad, and tread him into the earth, at the earliest opportunity. Iassured her warmly that Mr. Conrad could well defend himself, even ifShelfer should dare to meddle with him.
"Oh, my good friend, you have no idea what a terrible fellow Charley is.Why he broke the head of the skittleman at the "Load of Hay." So hetold me himself. Ah, he's a terrible fellow, when he's put out."
"But you forget, Mrs. Shelfer, he hasn't been put out this time; he wasput in." That Isola always loved small jokes.
"Put in, Miss Idols?" Mrs. Shelfer never understood any joke but herown--"oh yes, put into the water you mean. True, true, and serve himright (so long as he don't take cold) for calling me, his lawful wifewho keeps him together, 'the old gal at home!' But Charley's a terriblefellow, terrible."
"Terrible coward more likely," I cried, "or he would never have daredhis low insolence to me. I am sorry for it, Mrs. Shelfer, utterly as Iscorn him, because it compels me to leave your house; and you have beentruly good and kind to me." I thought of Mrs. Huxtable; but howdifferent was the fibre of her kindness!
"Leave my house, Miss Valence! No, no, my good friend, that will neverdo, not to be thought of, and us so used to you and all, and Tom, andthe blackbird, and the new squirrel! A likely story, my good friend,and with your eyelashes coming! And do you know who would come insteadof you?"
"Of course not, Mrs. Shelfer."
"Why a nasty stinking hussy, that would steal the feathers out of mybest bed again, the same as they did before. My very best bed, MissIdols, as dear Miss Minto left me by her will, not a better bed inLondon, unless it's the Queen's, and so I used to tell her when I helpedto shake it up. My mouth watered over it so, that she said one day, andthe knife-boy heard her on the stairs, 'Patty, you've been a good girlto me, and you deserves it, and you shall have it, when I am tucked upfor good and all.' And so I did, very honourable, and all above board.Yes, yes; I had a commercial gent one time, a wonderful heavy man to besure, and he stayed with me three year for the sake of that same bed.And he knew what beds was, and no mistake. It was bootiful to see whenhe was a getting up. It began to rise up, up, the same as Tom's back,when he see your dog, Miss Idols."
"Come, Mrs. Shelfer, I fear we can hardly wait."
"'Twas like dough put afore the fire, Miss. There's no such Dantzicnow. You couldn't put your fist into one side of it, but out it wouldcome the other. Oh Lor, I could cry; that nasty sly minx, she wassofter than parsnips, you'd say, and one leg more than the other. Icouldn't think why it was she would always make her own bed. 'Thankyou, Mrs. Shelfer'--with her lips sucked in like a button-hole--'thankyou, you are too kind. It doesn't at all fatigue me, and my doctorpronounces the exercise good for my chest and arms.' Thank God, she gotsome exercise good for her legs as well. Six months on the treadmill.Charley got me an order, and it did my heart good to see her. But mytwenty pounds of best feathers never came back again, and that wasn'tthe worst of it neither."
"Oh dear no," says Idols, "the worst of it was the sin, Mrs. Shelfer."
"The worst of it was that she stuffed it with sawdust, and oakum, andjovanna, I do believe, by the smell of it."
"What do you mean, Mrs. Shelfer?"
"Lor, Miss Valence, don't you know jovanna that the kingfishers lays onthe top of the sea, and the gardeners make water with it?"
"And what did she do with your feathers?"
"Sneaked them out of the house in the crown of her bonnet, and sold themat eightpence a pound, and they worth three and sixpence, every flue ofthem. But the rag and bottleman got two months, thank God for it. Ah,it will never be a bed again under 5*l.* at least."
"Is it the one I sleep on, Mrs. Shelfer?"
"Yes, my good friend, the very same."
"And you have put me to sleep on guano! Well, I thought it smelt veryodd."
"No, no, my good friend, wait a bit. We got most of that out again, andgave it to our geraniums. She stole it out of a sack as Charley kept inthe washhouse. There was feathers in it. That put it into her head, Isuppose. But as for your going, Miss Valence, that will never do.Never, never. Will it now, Miss Idols? And to see her dress, to besure, that baggage! Why, my best tarlatan, as dear Miss Minto give meto be married in, wasn't good enough for her to sweep the stairs in.Sweep the stairs--yes, yes, she did sweep the stairs when I see herlast; and she had afore, I know; she was so clever at it; and that waswhy one leg was so much more than the other."
"Mrs. Shelfer, do you expect us to listen to you all night?"
"True, my good friend, quite true. But when I thinks of my feathers,something comes over me, I must out with my troubles, or burst. But youmusn't go, Miss Valence. That will never do, never; ask Miss Idolsnow." And she turned to Isola, who was quite ready to be turned to.
"Of course it won't, Mrs. Shelfer. You are quite right, my good friend.I won't hear of it for a moment. Why Mr. Shelfer was drunk. I know itby the way he held his pipe. Quite 'drunk and incapable,' you know.And he will be so sorry, and he'll never do it again. And he did notmean to be drunk at all, but the frost was very hard, and the cold gotinto his head. I am sure it would into mine, if I had stayed muchlonger; and he didn't understand brandy-balls, as we do at College--youcould not expect it, you know."
The pure good faith of this last was too much for me. I laughedoutright, having no husband concerned in it. As for the dry littlewoman, she actually cried. I had never seen a tear in her quick, shyeyes before, though the feather-bed nearly brought them, and so did thedeath of the elder Sandy, the squirrel. She turned away. She wasalways ashamed of emotion.
"Bless your innocent heart, Miss Idols, if you don't marry a king! Notone of us is good enough to tie your shoes as you talked of, you arethat simple and good of heart."
Is there any goodness more touching to a veteran than a soft youngnature's disbelief in evil? But for bitter experience, I might havebeen sweet as Isola. Thank God, that in spite of all vinegar, theailment is still infectious. Isola could not make it all out.
"To-morrow morning, Miss Valence," began Mrs. Shelfer again, "to-morrowmorning, after I have wigged him well all night, and then given him agood breakfast, he'll come and beg your pardon like a child, and beashamed to look any higher than your flounces; and I know you'll forgivehim."
"Mrs. Shelfer, I have forgiven him long ago. I cannot bear enmityagainst such people"--these last three words had better been away--"forsuch little wrongs. And I owe you a great deal for all your kindness tome. The only question is, whether self-respect and prudence allow me tostay here. I will leave the decision to Miss Isola. Young as she is,and innocent and confiding, she cannot be wrong on a question ofdelicacy. As for prudence, she knows more of London than I do."
Hereon I sat down with a womanly air. But I could hardly help laughingwhen the senior sophist jumped up, proud to deliver judgment. To looktaller, she shook her flounces down, threw back her plump whiteshoulders--her bonnet and cloak were off--drew her rich flowing hairdown the pearly curve of her ears and, scarcely satisfied yet, thoughtof mounting a stool, then took her foot off the too convictive bema.After all these anabolisms, she began with much solemnity. She wasthinking of the College, and her father in the rostrum.
"Miss Valence and Mrs. Shelfer, since you have honoured my weak judgmentby appointing me umpire, and as I am led to believe without any right ofappeal, I will do my utmost to be discreet and impartial. In the firstplace I award that Miss Valence remain in this house, forget and forgiveher wrongs. In the second place I recommend (in such a matter I willnot presume to command) that till Mr. Shelfer has made a humble apologyand promised faithfully
never to be intoxicated again, however cold theweather is, Mrs. Shelfer shall not permit him to have a single kiss, nora single bit of hot dinner. Now I have delivered my decree."
"Lor, Miss Idols, you are too soft for the Old Bailey. He never kiss me,unless it is when he knows I have got some money. But he do like a goodhot dinner. Right enough there, my good friend."
So this knotty point was settled; and Giudice, who was very loth toleave me, escorted Miss Idols home, Before going, he made another solemndeposit of his great jowl in my hand, and looked at me with an air sotutelary and encouraging, that I could not help laughing; at which hefelt hurt, but condoned it. Isola told me that when he was put incharge of her, he felt the responsibility so strongly that he would notstir from her side, not even to speak to the most colloquially gifteddog; though at other times he would stay gossiping near a lamp-post forfive minutes together. One evening when he was thus commissioned, arude fellow pushed between them, and said something to Isola. Giudicehad him down in an instant, and stood over him, like a tawnythundercloud, with growlings so fearful and such flashing eyes, that twopolicemen felt it wiser not to act as conductors. Idols herself wasobliged, at the entreaty of her prostrate foe, to coax the great dogoff; but when the ungrateful man got up, he insisted on giving Giudiceinto charge, and having him dragged to the Station. "Very good, Sir,"said the policeman, "we'll enter the charge when you bring him there;let him go, Miss, for the Gent to collar him." The "Gent" was away inno time, and Giudice and his mistress walked off amid loud hurrahs fromall the boys of the neighbourhood.
Conrad called with his sister the day after Mr. Shelfer's ducking, toreassure himself as to my nerves, which were never better. He lookedover some of my drawings, and without seeming to give, but rather toseek information, afforded me many a hint, which I afterwards found mostuseful. I now learned what his profession was; and it gave me pleasureto find that he was not, as I had feared, a mere lounger upon town.Instead of that, he was working very hard, being (as he told me) nothingmore or less than a journeyman sculptor. Though, as himself admitted,by no means a novice, he was going through the regular course of studyand hand-labour under an eminent artist. But Isola told me, and nodoubt it was true, that he could beat his master out and out, and thatfor any choice design, where original power and taste were needed, theyalways came to him. Of late the frosts had lightened his tasks; forwarm the room as they would, the weather always affected the material;and they feared to attempt the more delicate parts of the work duringthe rigours of winter. So when the thaw came, he must lose the pleasureof seeing me for a while, unless dear Isola wished to be escorted homeon a Sunday; if, indeed, I allowed her to come on that day. Why, thatwas the very day when I could best indulge in a walk with my gentlefriend, after going to church; and I was sure her society did me moregood than the sermons. On her part, Isola found that the servicesalways made her so nervous (her nerves were as good as mine), and thatshe did not much like walking about with a big dog on Sundays, and Corawas always cross all the day after mass, so Conrad must promise upon hishonour always to come for her, rain, hail, or shine, on a Sunday. Thishe promised so readily, that, for a moment, I fancied it had all beenpreconcerted. Then I despised myself for the suspicion. The trickwould have been not out of the compass of Isola, but very unworthy ofConrad.
Clara Vaughan, Volume 2 (of 3) Page 11
