The Hand of Ethelberta Part 20

'Does Mr. Julian come to see her very often?' said she.

'O yes--he's always a-coming--a regular bore to me.'

'A regular what?'

'Bore!--Ah, I forgot, you don't know our town words. However, come along.'

They pa.s.sed by the doors on tiptoe, and their mother upstairs being, according to Joey's account, in the midst of a nap, Picotee was unwilling to disturb her; so they went down at once to the kitchen, when forward rushed Gwendoline the cook, flourishing her floury hands, and Cornelia the housemaid, dancing over her brush; and these having welcomed and made Picotee comfortable, who should ring the area-bell, and be admitted down the steps, but Sol and Dan. The workman-brothers, their day's duties being over, had called to see their relations, first, as usual, going home to their lodgings in Marylebone and making themselves as spruce as bridegrooms, according to the rules of their newly-acquired town experience. For the London mechanic is only nine hours a mechanic, though the country mechanic works, eats, drinks, and sleeps a mechanic throughout the whole twenty-four.

'G.o.d bless my soul--Picotee!' said Dan, standing fixed. 'Well--I say, this is splendid! ha-ha!'

'Picotee--what brought you here?' said Sol, expanding the circ.u.mference of his face in satisfaction. 'Well, come along--never mind so long as you be here.'

Picotee explained circ.u.mstances as well as she could without stating them, and, after a general conversation of a few minutes, Sol interrupted with--'Anybody upstairs with Mrs. Petherwin?'

'Mr. Julian was there just now,' said Joey; 'but he may be gone. Berta always lets him slip out how he can, the form of ringing me up not being necessary with him. Wait a minute--I'll see.'

Joseph vanished up the stairs; and, the question whether Christopher were gone or not being an uninteresting one to the majority, the talking went on upon other matters. When Joey crept down again a minute later, Picotee was sitting aloof and silent, and he accordingly singled her out to speak to.

'Such a lark, Picotee!' he whispered. 'Berta's a-courting of her young man. Would you like to see how they carries on a bit?'

'Dearly I should!' said Picotee, the pupils of her eyes dilating.

Joey conducted her to the top of the bas.e.m.e.nt stairs, and told her to listen. Within a few yards of them was the morning-room door, now standing ajar; and an intermittent flirtation in soft male and female tones could be heard going on inside. Picotee's lips parted at thus learning the condition of things, and she leant against the stair-newel.

'My? What's the matter?' said Joey.

'If this is London, I don't like it at all!' moaned Picotee.

'Well--I never see such a girl--fainting all over the stairs for nothing in the world.'

'O--it will soon be gone--it is--it is only indigestion.'

'Indigestion? Much you simple country people can know about that! You should see what devils of indigestions we get in high life--eating 'normous great dinners and suppers that require clever physicians to carry 'em off, or else they'd carry us off with gout next day; and waking in the morning with such a splitting headache, and dry throat, and inward cusses about human nature, that you feel all the world like some great lord. However, now let's go down again.'

'No, no, no!' said the unhappy maiden imploringly. 'Hark!'

They listened again. The voices of the musician and poetess had changed: there was a decided frigidity in their tone--then came a louder expression--then a silence.

'You needn't be afeard,' said Joey. 'They won't fight; bless you, they busts out quarrelling like this times and times when they've been over- friendly, but it soon gets straight with 'em again.'

There was now a quick walk across the room, and Joey and his sister drew down their heads out of sight. Then the room door was slammed, quick footsteps went along the hall, the front door closed just as loudly, and Christopher's tread pa.s.sed into nothing along the pavement.

'That's rather a wuss one than they mostly have; but Lord, 'tis nothing at all.'

'I don't much like biding here listening!' said Picotee.

'O, 'tis how we do all over the West End,' said Joey. ''Tis yer ignorance of town life that makes it seem a good deal to 'ee.'

'You can't make much boast about town life; for you haven't left off talking just as they do down in Wess.e.x.'

'Well, I own to that--what's fair is fair, and 'tis a true charge; but if I talk the Wess.e.x way 'tisn't for want of knowing better; 'tis because my staunch nater makes me bide faithful to our old ancient inst.i.tutions.

You'd soon own 'twasn't ignorance in me, if you knowed what large quant.i.ties of n.o.blemen I gets mixed up with every day. In fact 'tis thoughted here and there that I shall do very well in the world.'

'Well, let us go down,' said Picotee. 'Everything seems so overpowering here.'

'O, you'll get broke in soon enough. I felt just the same when I first entered into society.'

'Do you think Berta will be angry with me? How does she treat you?'

'Well, I can't complain. You see she's my own flesh and blood, and what can I say? But, in secret truth, the wages is terrible low, and barely pays for the tobacco I consooms.'

'O Joey, you wicked boy! If mother only knew that you smoked!'

'I don't mind the wickedness so much as the smell. And Mrs. Petherwin has got such a nose for a fellow's clothes. 'Tis one of the greatest knots in service--the smoke question. 'Tis thoughted that we shall make a great stir about it in the mansions of the n.o.bility soon.'

'How much more you know of life than I do--you only fourteen and me seventeen!'

'Yes, that's true. You see, age is nothing--'tis opportunity. And even I can't boast, for many a younger man knows more.'

'But don't smoke, Joey--there's a dear!'

'What can I do? Society hev its rules, and if a person wishes to keep himself up, he must do as the world do. We be all Fashion's slave--as much a slave as the meanest in the land!'

They got downstairs again; and when the dinner of the French lady and gentleman had been sent up and cleared away, and also Ethelberta's evening tea (which she formed into a genuine meal, making a dinner of luncheon, when n.o.body was there, to give less trouble to her servant-sisters), they all sat round the fire. Then the rustle of a dress was heard on the staircase, and squirrel-haired Ethelberta appeared in person. It was her custom thus to come down every spare evening, to teach Joey and her sisters something or other--mostly French, which she spoke fluently; but the cook and housemaid showed more ambition than intelligence in acquiring that tongue, though Joey learnt it readily enough.

There was consternation in the camp for a moment or two, on account of poor Picotee, Ethelberta being not without firmness in matters of discipline. Her eye instantly lighted upon her disobedient sister, now looking twice as disobedient as she really was.

'O, you are here, Picotee? I am glad to see you,' said the mistress of the house quietly.

This was altogether to Picotee's surprise, for she had expected a round rating at least, in her freshness hardly being aware that this reserve of feeling was an acquired habit of Ethelberta's, and that civility stood in town for as much vexation as a tantrum represented in Wess.e.x.

Picotee lamely explained her outward reasons for coming, and soon began to find that Ethelberta's opinions on the matter would not be known by the tones of her voice. But innocent Picotee was as wily as a religionist in sly elusions of the letter whilst infringing the spirit of a dictum; and by talking very softly and earnestly about the wondrous good she could do by remaining in the house as governess to the children, and playing the part of lady's-maid to her sister at show times, she so far coaxed Ethelberta out of her intentions that she almost accepted the plan as a good one. It was agreed that for the present, at any rate, Picotee should remain. Then a visit was made to Mrs. Chickerel's room, where the remainder of the evening was pa.s.sed; and harmony reigned in the household.

19. ETHELBERTA'S DRAWING-ROOM

Picotee's heart was fitfully glad. She was near the man who had enlarged her capacity from girl's to woman's, a little note or two of young feeling to a whole diapason; and though nearness was perhaps not in itself a great reason for felicity when viewed beside the complete realization of all that a woman can desire in such circ.u.mstances, it was much in comparison with the outer darkness of the previous time.

It became evident to all the family that some misunderstanding had arisen between Ethelberta and Mr. Julian. What Picotee hoped in the centre of her heart as to the issue of the affair it would be too complex a thing to say. If Christopher became cold towards her sister he would not come to the house; if he continued to come it would really be as Ethelberta's lover--altogether, a pretty game of perpetual check for Picotee.

He did not make his appearance for several days. Picotee, being a presentable girl, and decidedly finer-natured than her sisters below stairs, was allowed to sit occasionally with Ethelberta in the afternoon, when the teaching of the little ones had been done for the day; and thus she had an opportunity of observing Ethelberta's emotional condition with reference to Christopher, which Picotee did with an interest that the elder sister was very far from suspecting.

At first Ethelberta seemed blithe enough without him. One more day went, and he did not come, and then her manner was that of apathy. Another day pa.s.sed, and from fanciful elevations of the eyebrow, and long breathings, it became apparent that Ethelberta had decidedly pa.s.sed the indifferent stage, and was getting seriously out of sorts about him. Next morning she looked all hope. He did not come that day either, and Ethelberta began to look pale with fear.