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"'Oh, Mr. Maca.s.sar,' said the Lady Crinoline, when he had drawn nigh to her, 'and how are you to-day?' This mention of his Christian name betrayed no undue familiarity, as the two families were intimate, and Maca.s.sar had four elder brothers. 'I am so sorry mamma is not at home; she will regret not seeing you amazingly.'
"Maca.s.sar had his hat in his hand, and he stood a while gazing at the fox in the pattern. 'Won't you sit down?' said Crinoline.
"'Is it very dusty in the street to-day?' asked Crinoline; and as she spoke she turned upon him a face wreathed in the sweetest smiles, radiant with elegant courtesy, and altogether expressive of extreme gentility, unsullied propriety, and a very high tone of female education. 'Is it very dusty in the street to-day?'
"Charmed by the involuntary grace of her action, Maca.s.sar essayed to turn his head towards her as he replied; he could not turn it much, for he wore an all-rounder; but still he was enabled by a side glance to see more of that finished elegance than was perhaps good for his peace of mind.
"'Yes,' said he, 'it is dusty;--it certainly is dusty, rather;--but not very--and then in most streets they've got the water-carts.'
"'Ah, I love those water-carts!' said Crinoline; 'the dust, you know, is so trying.'
"'To the complexion?' suggested Maca.s.sar, again looking round as best he might over the bulwark of his collar.
"Crinoline laughed slightly; it was perhaps hardly more than a simper, and turning her lovely eyes from her work, she said, 'Well, to the complexion, if you will. What would you gentlemen say if we ladies were to be careless of our complexions?'
"Maca.s.sar merely sighed gently--perhaps he had no fitting answer; perhaps his heart was too full for him to answer. He sat with his eye fixed on his hat, which still dangled in his hand; but his mind's eye was far away.
"'Is it in his office?' thought Crinoline to herself; 'or is it here? Is it anywhere?'
"'Have you learnt the song I sent you? said he at last, waking, as it were, from a trance.
"'Not yet,' said she--'that is, not quite; that is, I could not sing it before strangers yet.'
"'Strangers!' said Maca.s.sar; and he looked at her again with an energy that produced results not beneficial either to his neck or his collar.
"Crinoline was delighted at this expression of feeling. 'At any rate it is somewhere,' said she to herself; 'and it can hardly be all at his office.'
"'Well, I will not say strangers,' she said out loud; 'it sounds --it sounds--I don't know how it sounds. But what I mean is, that as yet I've only sung it before mamma!'"
'I declare I don't know which is the biggest fool of the two,'
said Uncle Bat, very rudely.' As for him, if I had him on the forecastle of a man-of-war for a day or two, I'd soon teach him to speak out.'
'You forget, sir,' said Charley,' he's not a sailor, he's only in the Civil Service; we're all very bashful in the Civil Service.'
'I think he is rather spooney, I must say,' said Katie; whereupon Mrs. Woodward went on reading.
"'It's a sweet thing, isn't it?' said Maca.s.sar.
"'Oh, very!' said Crinoline, with a rapturous expression which pervaded her whole head and shoulders as well as her face and bust--'very sweet, and so new.'
"'It quite comes home to me,' said Maca.s.sar, and he sighed deeply.
"'Then it is at his office,' said Crinoline to herself; and she sighed also.
"They both sat silent for a while, looking into the square--Crinoline was at one window, and Maca.s.sar at the other: 'I must go now,' said he: 'I promised to be back at three.'
"'Back where?' said she.
"'At my office,' said he.
"Crinoline sighed. After all, it was at his office; it was too evident that it was there, and nowhere else. Well, and why should it not be there? why should not Maca.s.sar Jones be true to his duty and to his country? What had she to do with his heart? Why should she wish it elsewhere? 'Twas thus she tried to console herself, but in vain. Had she had an office of her own it might perhaps have been different; but Crinoline was only a woman; and often she sighed over the degradation of her lot.
"'Good morning, Miss Crinoline,' said he.
"'Good morning, Mr. Maca.s.sar,' said she; 'mamma will so regret that she has lost the pleasure of seeing you.'
"And then she rung the bell. Maca.s.sar went downstairs perhaps somewhat slower, with perhaps more of melancholy than when he entered. The page opened the hall-door with alacrity, and shut it behind him with a slam.
"All honour to the true and brave!
"Crinoline again took up the note of her sorrow, and with her lute in her hand, she warbled forth the line which stuck like a thorn in her sweet bosom:--
His heart is in his office--his heart IS ALWAYS _there_."
'There,' said Mrs. Woodward, 'that's the end of the first chapter.'
'Well, I like the page the best,' said Linda, 'because he seems to know what he is about.'
'Oh, so does the lady,' said Charley; 'but it wouldn't at all do if we made the hero and heroine go about their work like humdrum people. You'll see that the Lady Crinoline knows very well what's what.'
'Oh, Charley, pray don't tell us,' said Katie; 'I do so like Mr.
Maca.s.sar, he is so spooney; pray go on, mamma.'
'I'm ready,' said Mrs. Woodward, again taking up the ma.n.u.script.
"CHAPTER II
"The lovely Crinoline was the only daughter of fond parents; and though they were not what might be called extremely wealthy, considering the vast incomes of some residents in the metropolis, and were not perhaps wont to mix in the highest circles of the Belgravian aristocracy, yet she was enabled to dress in all the elegance of fashion, and contrived to see a good deal of that society which moves in the highly respectable neighbourhood of Russell Square and Gower Street.
"Her dresses were made at the distinguished establishment of Madame Mantalini, in Hanover Square; at least she was in the habit of getting one dress there every other season, and this was quite sufficient among her friends to give her a reputation for dealing in the proper quarter. Once she had got a bonnet direct from Paris, which gave her ample opportunity of expressing a frequent opinion not favourable to the fabricators of a British article. She always took care that her shoes had within them the name of a French cordonnier; and her gloves were made to order in the Rue Du Bac, though usually bought and paid for in Tottenham Court Road."
'What a false creature!' said Linda.
'False!' said Charley; 'and how is a girl to get along if she be not false? What girl could live for a moment before the world if she were to tell the whole truth about the get-up of her wardrobe--the patchings and make-believes, the chipped ribbons and turned silks, the little bills here, and the little bills there? How else is an allowance of 20 a year to be made compatible with an appearance of unlimited income? How else are young men to be taught to think that in an affair of dress money is a matter of no moment whatsoever?'
'Oh, Charley, Charley, don't be slanderous,' said Mrs. Woodward.
'I only repeat what the editor says to me--I know nothing about it myself. Only we are requested 'to hold the mirror up to nature,'--and to art too, I believe. We are to set these things right, you know.'
'We--who are we?' said Katie.
'Why, the _Daily Delight_,' said Charley.
'But I hope there's nothing false in patching and turning,' said Mrs. Woodward; 'for if there be, I'm the falsest woman alive.
To gar the auld claes look amaist as weel's the new
is, I thought, one of the most legitimate objects of a woman's diligence.'