CHAPTER V
JANE MULLINS
On the evening which followed our last "At Home," mother came to me,and earnestly begged of me to pause and reflect.
"Wherever you go I will go, Westenra," she said; "that may be taken asa matter of course, but I do think you are wrong to go against all thewishes of our friends."
"But our friends won't do anything for us, Mummy!" I answered, "andthey will forget us just as soon in the cottage in the country, asthey will in the boarding-house in town; sooner, in fact, if that isany consolation to you, and I do want to try it, Mummy, for I cannotbe buried alive in the country at twenty-one."
"Then I will say no more," replied mother. "I only trust the way maybe made plain for us, for at present I cannot see that it is; but ifwe can find a suitable house, and take it, I will go with you, West,although, darling, I hate the thing--I do truly."
After this speech of mother's it can easily be supposed that I sleptbadly that night. I began for the first time in my life to doubtmyself, and my own judgment. I began even seriously to consider thecottage in the country with its genteel poverty, and I began to wonderif I was to spend the remainder of my youth getting thinner in mindand body, day by day, and hour by hour.
"Anaemic," I said to myself. "In the country with no money, and nointerests, I shall become anaemic. My thoughts will be feeble andwanting in force, and I shall die long before my time a miserable oldmaid. Now, there are no real old maids in London. The unmarried womenare just as full of force, and go, and common-sense, and ambition, andhappiness as the married ones; but in the country, oh, it isdifferent. There old age comes before its time. I knew that I was notthe girl to endure having nothing to do, and yet that seemed to be myappointed portion. So during the night I shed very bitter tears, and Ihated society for its coldness and want of comprehension. I longedmore frantically than ever to find myself in the midst of the people,where "a man was a man for a' that," and mere veneer went for nothing.But if mother's heart was likely to be broken by my taking this step,and if there was no house for me but 14 Cleveland Street, I doubtedvery much whether I could go on with my scheme. Judge therefore of mysurprise and delight, when on the following morning, mother handed mea letter which she had just received. It was from Messrs. Macalister& Co.
"Read it," she said, "I do not quite know what it means."
I read the letter quickly, it ran as follows:--
"DEAR MADAM,--We write to acquaint you, that we have just had an interview with Mr. Hardcastle, the landlord of 17 Graham Square, and he desires us to say, that he is willing in your case to come to terms with regard to his house, and if you will take it for a lease of fourteen years, he will do it up for you, in the most approved style, and according to your own taste; he also withdraws his embargo to your letting apartments, or having paying guests in your house.
"Under the circumstances, we shall be glad to hear if you still entertain the idea of taking this mansion.
--Yours faithfully, MACALISTER & CO."
"Oh mother!" I cried, "this is just splendid!" My spirits rose with abound. Anxious as I was to possess a boarding-house, I hated going to14 Cleveland Street, but 17 Graham Square was a house where any onemight be happy. It was charmingly built; it was large, commodious,cheerful, and then the landlord--he must be a delightful man when hewithdrew his embargo, when he permitted us--_us_ to have paying guestsin our dwelling. Even Jasmine need not be ashamed to send her nice,rich American friends to 17 Graham Square.
"This is splendid, mother!" I repeated.
"Dear me, Westenra," said mother, looking pale and troubled, "whathouse is he alluding to? I saw so many that first day, darling, andthe only impression they left upon me was, that they were all stairsand narrowness; they seemed to go up and up, for ever and ever, mylegs ache even now when I think of them."
"But you cannot forget 17 Graham Square," I said, "the last house wesaw ... the corner-house. You recollect the hall, how wide it was, andyou know there were darling balconies, and you shall have one, littlemother, all to yourself, and such a sweet sun-blind over it, and youcan keep your favourite plants there, and be, oh, so happy!Mother--mother, this is magnificent!"
"I do recall the house now," said mother, "it was not quite as bad asthe other houses; but still, Westenra, what does this mean? Why shouldthere be an exception made in our favour?"
"Oh, that I know nothing about," I answered, "I suppose the landlordwas not going to be so silly as to lose good tenants."
"And what is the rent of the house ... I forget."
"Two hundred and something," I said in a careless tone, "not at allhigh for such a house, and the landlord, Mr. Hardcastle, will do itup for us. Mother, we will have the carriage, and go and make ourarrangements immediately."
"Then you are quite determined, West?"
"Mother, dear mother, I do think father would like us to do it."
Now, whenever I spoke of my dead father, mother looked intenselysolemn and subdued. Once she told me that she thought there was astrong link between my father's spirit and mine, and that at times Ispoke so exactly like him, and made use of the identically sameexpressions, and in short impressed her with the feeling that he wasclose to her. I did not often use my father's name, therefore, as ameans of power over my mother, but I did use it now; and, with theusual result, she got up gently and said--
"We had better go and see the house once more."
We did go, we drove straight to the agents, and got the order to view,and went all over 17 Graham Square. Our second visit was far moredelightful than the first, for the agent's clerk accompanied us. Wefound him in an excellent humour, most willing to offer suggestionsand to accept any suggestions of ours. Not that mother made any, itwas I who, with my usual daring, spoke of this improvement and theother.
But darling mother became a little cheerful when she stood in thatnoble drawing-room and saw the sun shining in bars across the floor,and the agent's clerk was quite astonishingly cheery; he knew just thecolour the paper ought to be, for instance, and the tone of the paint,and he even suggested what curtains would go with such paper and suchpaint. I never saw a man so improved. He had lost his brusqueness, andwas very anxious to please us.
"It is extraordinary," said mother afterwards; "really I never knewthat house-agents could be such agreeable people. No. 17 Graham Squareis a handsome house, Westenra, it is a great pity that it is notsituated in Mayfair."
"But mother, dear mother, we could not have a boarding-house in thevery midst of our friends," I said with a smile; "we shall dosplendidly in Graham Square, and we should not do at all well inMayfair."
When we returned to the agents, Mr. Macalister himself, one of theheads of the firm, came and interviewed us. After answering a greatmany questions, it was finally decided that he was to see Mr.Hardcastle, the landlord, and that the landlord was to have aninterview the next day with mother; and the agent further agreed thatthe landlord should call on mother at our own house in Sumner Place,and then we drove home.
"I suppose it is completed now," said mother, "the thing is done.Well, child, you are having your own way; it will be a lesson to you,I only trust we shall not be quite ruined. I am already puzzled toknow how we are to meet that enormous rent."
But at that moment of my career I thought nothing at all about therent. That night I slept the sleep of the just, and was in highspirits the following day, when the landlord, a nice, jovial,rosy-faced man, arrived, accompanied by the agent. They both saw mymother, who told them frankly that she knew nothing about business,and so perforce they found themselves obliged to talk to me.Everything was going smoothly until Mr. Hardcastle said in the veryquietest of tones--
"Of course you understand, Mrs. Wickham, that I shall requirereferences. I am going to lay out a good deal of money on the house,and references are indispensable."
"Of course," answered mother, but she looked pale and nervous.
"What sort of references?" I asked.
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"Tradesmen's references are what we like best," was his reply; "butyour banker's will be all-sufficient--an interview with your bankerwith regard to your deposit will make all safe."
Then mother turned paler than ever, and looked first at me and then atMr. Hardcastle. After a pause she said slowly--
"My daughter and I would not undertake our present scheme if we hadcapital--we have not any."
"Not any?" said Mr. Hardcastle, looking blank, "and yet you proposeto take a house with a rental of two hundred and eighty pounds ayear."
"We mean to pay the rent out of the profit we get from the boarders,"I replied.
Mr. Hardcastle did not make use of an ugly word, but he raised hisbrows, looked fixedly at me for a moment, and then shook his head.
"I am sorry," he said, rising; "I would do a great deal to oblige you,for you are both most charming ladies, but I cannot let my housewithout references. If you, for instance, Mrs. Wickham, could get anyone to guarantee the rent, I should be delighted to let you the houseand put it in order, but not otherwise."
He added a few more words, and then he and the agent, both of themlooking very gloomy, went away.
"I shall hear from you doubtless on the subject of references," saidMr. Hardcastle as he bowed himself out, "and I will keep the offeropen until Saturday."
This was Wednesday, we had three days to spare.
"Now, Westenra," said my mother, "the thing has come to a stop ofitself. Providence has interfered, and I must honestly say I am glad.From the first the scheme was mad, and as that nice, jovial lookingMr. Hardcastle will not let us the house without our having capital,and as we have no capital, there surely is an end to the matter. Ihave not the slightest doubt, West, that all the other landlords inBloomsbury will be equally particular, therefore we must fall backupon our little cottage in----"
"No, mother," I interrupted, "no; I own that at the present moment Ifeel at my wits' end, but I have not yet come to the cottage in thecountry."
I think there were tears in my eyes, for mother opened her arms wide.
"Kiss me," she said.
I ran into her dear arms, and laid my head on her shoulder.
"Oh, you are the sweetest thing on earth," I said, "and it is becauseyou are, and because I love you so passionately, I will not let youdegenerate. I will find my way through somehow."
I left mother a moment later, and I will own it, went to my ownlovely, lovely room, suitable for a girl who moved in the bestsociety, and burst into tears. It was astonishing what a suddenpassion I had taken, as my friends would say, to degrade myself; butthis did not look like degradation in my eyes, it was just honestwork. We wanted money, and we would earn it; we would go in debt to noman; we would earn money for ourselves. But then the thought came tome, "Was my scheme too expensive? had I any right to saddle motherwith such an enormous rent?" I had always considered myself a veryfair arithmetician, and I now sat down and went carefully intoaccounts. I smile to this day as I think of myself seated at mylittle table in the big bay window of my bedroom, trying to make outwith pencil and paper how I could keep 17 Graham Square going--I, agirl without capital, without knowledge, without any of the sort ofexperience which alone could aid me in a crisis of this sort.
I spent the rest of the day in very low spirits, for my accounts wouldnot, however hard I tried, show any margin of profit.
The more difficulties came in my way, however, the more determined wasI to overcome them. Presently I took a sheet of paper and wrote a fewlines to Mr. Hardcastle. I knew his address, and wrote to him direct.
"Dear sir," I said, "will you oblige me by letting me know whatcapital my mother will require in order to become your tenant for 17Graham Square."
I signed this letter, adding a postscript, "An early answer willoblige."
I received the answer about noon the following day.
"DEAR MISS WICKHAM,--Your letter puzzles me. I see you have a great deal of pluck and endeavour, and I should certainly do my utmost to please you, but I cannot let you have the house under a capital of five thousand pounds."
The letter fell from my hands, and I sat in blank despair. Fivethousand pounds is a small sum to many people, to others it is asimpossible and as unget-at-able as the moon. We, when our debts werepaid, would have nothing at all to live on except the annuity which mymother received from the Government, and a small sum of fifty pounds ayear.
I began dismally to consider what rent we must pay for the awfulcottage in the country, and to what part of the country it would bebest to retire, when Paul came into the room and presented me with acard.
"There's a lady--a person, I mean--downstairs, and she wants to seeyou, Miss."
I took the card and read the name--Miss Jane Mullins.
"Who is she?" I asked; "I don't know her."
"She's a sort of betwixt and between, Miss. I showed her into theli'bry. I said you was most likely engaged, but that I would inquire."
"Miss Jane Mullins." I read the name aloud. "Show her up, Paul," Isaid then.
"Oh, my dear West, what do you mean?" said mother; "that sort ofperson has probably called to beg."
"She may as well beg in the drawing-room as anywhere else," I said. "Ihave rather taken a fancy to her name--Jane Mullins."
"A hideous name," said mother; but she did not add any more, for thenext moment there came a rustle of harsh silk on the landing, thedrawing-room door was flung open by Paul in his grandest style, andMiss Jane Mullins walked in. She entered quickly, with a determinedstep. She was a little woman, stoutly built, and very neatly and atthe same time quietly dressed. Her dress was black silk, and I saw ata glance that the quality of the silk was poor. It gave her a harshappearance, which was further intensified by a kind of fixed colour inher cheeks. Her face was all over a sort of chocolate red. She hadscanty eyebrows and scanty hair, her eyes were small and twinkling,she had a snub nose and a wide mouth. Her age might have been fromthirty-five to forty. She had, however, a great deal ofself-possession, and did not seem at all impressed by mystately-looking mother and by my tall, slender self.
As she had asked particularly to see me, mother now retired to theother end of the long drawing-room and took up a book. I invited MissMullins to a chair.
"I would a great deal rather you called me Jane at once and have donewith it," was her remarkable response to this; "but I suppose Janewill come in time." Here she heaved a very deep sigh, raised her veilof spotted net, and taking out her handkerchief, mopped her red face.
"It's a warm day," she said, "and I walked most of the way. I supposeyou would like me to proceed to business. I have come, MissWickham--Miss Westenra Wickham--to speak on the subject of 17 GrahamSquare."
"Have you?" I cried. Had the ground opened I could not have been moreamazed. What had this little, rather ugly woman, to do with mydream-house, 17 Graham Square?
"It is a very beautiful, fine house," said the little woman. "I wentall over it this morning. I heard from your agents, Messrs. Macalister& Co., that you are anxious to take it."
I felt that my agents were very rude in thus giving me away, and madeno response beyond a stately bend of my head. I was glad that motherwas occupying herself with some delicate embroidery in the distantwindow. She certainly could not hear our conversation.
Miss Mullins now pulled her chair forward and sat in such a positionthat her knees nearly touched mine.
"You'll forgive a plain question," she said; "I am here on business.Are you prepared to take the house?"
"We certainly wish to take it," I said.
"But are you going to take it, Miss Wickham?"
I rather resented this speech, and was silent.
"Now I'll be plain. My name is blunt, and so is my nature. I want thehouse."
I half rose.
"Sit down, Miss Wickham, and don't be silly."
This speech was almost intolerable, and I thought the time had comewhen I should call to mother to protect me, but Jane Mullins had suchtwinkling
, good-humoured eyes, that presently my anger dissolved intoa curious desire to laugh.
"I know, Miss Wickham, you think me mad, and I was always accounted alittle queer, but I'll beat about the bush no longer. You want 17Graham Square, and so do I. You have got beauty and good birth andtaste and style, and your name and your appearance will drawcustomers; and I have got experience and"--here she made a long,emphatic pause--"_money_. Now my question is this: Shall we clubtogether?"
I never in all my life felt more astonished, I was nearly stunned.
"Club together?" I said.
"Yes, shall we? Seven thousand pounds capital has been placed at mydisposal. You, I understand, have got furniture, at least somefurniture"--here she glanced in a rather contemptuous way round ourlovely drawing-room. "You also, of course, have a certain amount ofconnection, and I have got a large and valuable connection. Shall weclub together?"
"I do not think we have any connection at all," I said bluntly; "notone of our friends will notice us when we go to--to Bloomsbury, andwe have not half enough furniture for a house like 17 Graham Square.But what do you mean by our clubbing together?"
"Let me speak, my dear. What I want is this. I want you to put yourfurniture, what there is of it, and your connection, what there is ofit, and your good birth and your style, and your charming mother intothe same bag with my experience and my capital--or rather, the capitalthat is to be given to me. Will you do it? There's a plain question.Is it to be yes, or is it to be no? I want 17 Graham Square, and so doyou. Shall we take it together and make a success of it? I like you,you are honest, and you're nice to look at, and I don't mind at allyour being stiff to me and thinking me queer, for by-and-by we'll befriends. Is it to be a bargain?"
Just then mother rose from her seat and came with slow and statelysteps across the room.
"What is it, Westenra?" she said; "what does this--this lady want?"
"Oh, I'm not a lady, ma'am," said Jane Mullins, rising and dropping asort of involuntary curtsey. "I'm just a plain body, but I know allabout cooking, and all about servants, and all about house linen, andall about dusting, going right into corners and never slurring them,and all the rest, and I know what you ought to give a pound for beefand for mutton, and what you ought to give a dozen for eggs, and forbutter, and how to get the best and freshest provisions at the lowestpossible price. I know a thousand things, my dear madam, that you donot know, and that your pretty daughter doesn't know, and what I sayis; as we both want 17 Graham Square, shall we put our pride in ourpockets and our finances into one bag, and do the job. My name is JaneMullins. I never was a grand body. I'm plain, but I'm determined, andI am good-humoured, and I am true as steel. I can give you fifty-fourreferences if you want them, from a number of very good honesttradesmen who know me, and know that I pay my debts to the uttermostfarthing. Will you join me, or will you not?"
"Well," said mother, when this curious little person had finishedspeaking, "this is quite the most astounding thing I ever heard of inmy life. Westenra dear, thank this person very kindly, tell her thatyou know she means well, but that of course we could not think of herscheme for a single moment."
Mother turned as she spoke, and walked up the drawing-room again, andI looked at Jane Mullins, and Jane Mullins looked at me, and her blueeyes twinkled. She got up at once and held out her hand.
"Then that's flat," she said; "you'll be sorry you have said it, forJane Mullins could have done well by you. Good-bye, miss; good-bye,ma'am."
She gave a little nod in the direction of my stately mother, andtripped out of the room. I was too stunned even to ring the bell forPaul, and I think Jane Mullins let herself out.
Well, as soon as she was gone, mother turned on me and gave me thefirst downright absolute scolding I had received since I was a tinychild. She said she had been willing, quite willing, to please me inevery possible way, but when I descended to talk to people like JaneMullins, and to consider their proposals, there was an end ofeverything, and she could not, for my father's sake, hear of such anoutrageous proposal for a moment. This she said with tears in hereyes, and I listened quite submissively until at last the preciousdarling had worn her anger out, and sat subdued and inclined to cry bythe open window. I took her hand then and petted her. I told her thatreally my scolding was quite unmerited, as I had never heard of JaneMullins before, and was as much amazed as she was at her visit.
"All the same," I added, "I have not the slightest doubt that, withJane Mullins at the helm, we should do splendidly."
"My darling, darling West, this is just the straw too much," saidmother, and then I saw that it was the straw too much, and at thatmoment who should come to visit us but pretty little Lady Thesiger. Weturned the conversation instinctively. Lady Thesiger said--
"You have not yet gone under, either of you, you are only talkingabout it. You are quite fit to associate with me for the rest of theday. I want you to come for a long drive in my carriage, andafterwards we will go to the theatre together; there is a very goodpiece on at the Lyceum. Now, then, be quick, Westenra, get into yourvery smartest clothes, and Mrs. Wickham, will you also put on yourbonnet and mantle?"
There was never any resisting Jasmine, and we spent the rest of theday with her, and she was absolutely winning, and so pleasant that shemade mother forget Jane Mullins; but then during dinner, in thequeerest, most marvellous way, she drew the whole story of JaneMullins from us both, and mother described with great pride her actionin the matter.
"Yes, that is all very fine," replied Jasmine; "but now I am going tosay a plain truth. I am going to imitate that wonderful little Jane.My truth is this--I would fifty thousand times rather introduce mynice American friends to Jane Mullins's boarding-house than I would toyours, Westenra, for in Jane's they would have their wants attendedto, and be thoroughly comfortable, whereas in yours goodness onlyknows if the poor darlings would get a meal fit to eat."
This was being snubbed with a vengeance, and even mother looked angry,and I think she thought that Lady Thesiger had gone too far.
During the play that followed, and the drive home and the subsequentnight, I thought of nothing but Jane Mullins, and began more and moreto repent of my rash refusal of her aid. Surely, if Providence hadmeant us to carry out our scheme, Providence had also supplied JaneMullins to help us to do it, and if ever woman looked true she did,and if her references turned out satisfactory why should she not be asort of partner-housekeeper in the concern?
So the next morning early I crept into mother's room, and whispered toher all about Jane and my thoughts during the night, and begged of herto reconsider the matter.
"It is very odd, West," said mother, "but what your friend Jasminesaid has been coming to me in my dreams; and you know, darling, youknow nothing about cooking, and I know still less, and I suppose thisMiss Mullins would understand this sort of thing, so, Westenra, ifyour heart is quite, quite set on it, we may as well see her again."
"She left her address on her visiting-card. I will go to her themoment I have finished breakfast," was my joyful response.