CHAPTER VIII.
Ann Maples had done her best to persuade me to call on my godmother,Lady Cranberry, but I was quite resolved to do nothing of the sort. Inthe first place, Lady Cranberry was a person of great wealth, living ina very large house, and keeping up such state as gay widows love, whohave forgotten old affections and are looking out for new. In me,therefore, to whose fixed estimate fidelity seemed the very pith ofhonour, there could be no love towards such a changeling. And even if Ihad liked her, my circumstances would not admit of our visiting uponequal terms, and it was not likely that I would endure to be patronizedby any one. In the second place, the same most amiable lady had writtenletters of beautiful condolence, and taken a tender interest in ourchange of fortune, so long as there was any novelty in it; but soonflagged off, and had not even replied to my announcement of dearestmother's death. Finally, I hated her without any compromise, from whatI had seen of her, and what she had done to me at Vaughan Park.
So my good Ann set off all alone, for she hoped to obtain somerecommendation there, and I was left to receive Mrs. Shelfer's morningvisit.
Her queer episodical conversation, and strange biographies of everytable, chair, and cushion--her "sticks," as she delighted to callthem--I shall not try to repeat, for my history is not a comic one;neither will she appear, unless the connexion requires it. One vein ofsympathy between us was opened at once, by her coming into the room witha lame blackbird on her finger; and I was quite surprised at the numberof her pets. As for the "splendid apartments," they were two littlerooms on the first floor, adjoining one another, and forming, togetherwith the landing outside and a coal-closet, the entirety of that storey.The rooms above were occupied by a young dress-maker. Mr. and Mrs.Shelfer, who had no children kept the ground-floor (consisting of aparlour and kitchen) and the two attics, one of which was always full ofonions and carrot seed. Upon the whole, though the "sticks" were veryold, and not over clean, until I scoured them, and the drawing-room (asmy landlady loved to call it) was low and small, and looked through therails of a narrow balcony upon a cheese-monger's shop across the road(instead of a wooded dingle), I was very well satisfied with them; andabove all the rent was within my means.
In the afternoon, when things were growing tidy, a carriage drove uprapidly, and a violent ringing of the bell ensued. It was LadyCranberry, who, under the pretext of bringing Ann Maples home, was cometo gratify her own sweet curiosity. She ran upstairs in her mostcharming manner, caught me by both hands, and would have kissed medesperately, if I had shown any tendency that way. Then she stopped toadmire me.
"Oh, you lovely creature! How you are grown to be sure! I should neverhave known you. How delicious all this is!"
Of course I was pleased with her admiration; but only for a moment,because I disliked her.
"I am glad you find it delicious," I replied quite coldly; "perhaps Ishall by-and-by."
"What would I give to be entering life under such sweetly romanticcircumstances? Dear me! I must introduce you. What a sensation youwill cause! With such a face and figure and such a delightful story, weshall all rave about you. And how well you are dressed from thatoutlandish place! What a piece of luck! It's the greatest marvel onearth that you found me in London now."
"Excuse me," I said, "I neither found, nor meant to find you."
"Oh, of course you are cross with me. I forgot about that. But whomade your dress, in the name of all woodland graces?"
"I always make my own dresses."
"Then you shall make mine. Say no more about it. You shall live withme, and make my dresses by day; and by night you shall go with meeverywhere, and I won't be jealous. I will introduce you everywhere.'This is my ward, Miss Vaughan, whose father--ah, I see, you know thatromantic occurrence in Gloucestershire.' Do you think it will be ayour--and the Great Exhibition season--before you are mistress of aproperty ten times the size of Vaughan Park? If you doubt it, look inthe glass. Ah me! You know nothing of the world, I forget, I am sowarm-hearted. But you may take my word for it. Will you cry a bargain?"
She held out her hand, as she had seen the fast men do, whose societyshe affected. I noticed it not, but led her on; my fury had long beengathering. I almost choked when she spoke in that way of my father,utterly as I despised her. But I made it a trial of self-control, whichmight be demanded against more worthy objects.
"Are you sure that I shall be useful? Sure that I shall earn my board?"
"Oh, you Vaughans are always so conscientious. I want an eider-downpetticoat quilted at once for the winter, and I dare not trust it toBiggs, I know she will pucker it so. That shall be the first little jobfor my Clara."
Her cup was full. She had used dearest mother's fond appellative, and,as I thought, in mockery. I did not lower myself by any sarcasticlanguage. She would not have understood it. I merely opened the door,and said calmly to my landlady, who was there, of course"promiscuously;" "Mrs. Shelfer, show out the Countess of Cranberry."
Poor godmother, she was so frightened that I was sorry for her. Theyhelped her into the carriage, and she had just strength to draw down theblinds.
Mrs. Shelfer had been in raptures at having so grand a vehicle and twogreat footmen at her door. Lest the street should lose the effect, shehad run in and out a dozen times, and banged the door, and got into talkwith the coachman, and sent for beer to the Inn, though she had it inthe house. She now came again to my door, in what she called a"terrible quandary." I could not attend to her, but locked myself in,and wrestled with my passionate nature, at one time indulging, thenspurning and freezing it. Yet I could not master it, as I fancied I haddone.
Clara Vaughan, Volume 1 (of 3) Page 26
