IV. THE EVENTS OF ONE DAY
1. AUGUST THE FOURTH. TILL FOUR O'CLOCK
The early part of the next week brought an answer to Cytherea's lastnote of hope in the way of advertisement--not from a distance ofhundreds of miles, London, Scotland, Ireland, the Continent--as Cythereaseemed to think it must, to be in keeping with the means adopted forobtaining it, but from a place in the neighbourhood of that in whichshe was living--a country mansion not twenty miles off. The reply ranthus:--
KNAPWATER HOUSE, August 3, 1864.
'Miss Aldclyffe is in want of a young person as lady's-maid. The dutiesof the place are light. Miss Aldclyffe will be in Budmouth on Thursday,when (should G. still not have heard of a place) she would like to seeher at the Belvedere Hotel, Esplanade, at four o'clock. No answer needbe returned to this note.'
A little earlier than the time named, Cytherea, clothed in a modestbonnet, and a black silk jacket, turned down to the hotel. Expectation,the fresh air from the water, the bright, far-extending outlook, raisedthe most delicate of pink colours to her cheeks, and restored to hertread a portion of that elasticity which her past troubles, and thoughtsof Edward, had well-nigh taken away.
She entered the vestibule, and went to the window of the bar.
'Is Miss Aldclyffe here?' she said to a nicely-dressed barmaid in theforeground, who was talking to a landlady covered with chains, knobs,and clamps of gold, in the background.
'No, she isn't,' said the barmaid, not very civilly. Cytherea looked ashade too pretty for a plain dresser.
'Miss Aldclyffe is expected here,' the landlady said to a third person,out of sight, in the tone of one who had known for several days the factnewly discovered from Cytherea. 'Get ready her room--be quick.' From thealacrity with which the order was given and taken, it seemed to Cythereathat Miss Aldclyffe must be a woman of considerable importance.
'You are to have an interview with Miss Aldclyffe here?' the landladyinquired.
'Yes.'
'The young person had better wait,' continued the landlady. With amoney-taker's intuition she had rightly divined that Cytherea wouldbring no profit to the house.
Cytherea was shown into a nondescript chamber, on the shady side of thebuilding, which appeared to be either bedroom or dayroom, as occasionnecessitated, and was one of a suite at the end of the first-floorcorridor. The prevailing colour of the walls, curtains, carpet, andcoverings of furniture, was more or less blue, to which the cold lightcoming from the north easterly sky, and falling on a wide roof of newslates--the only object the small window commanded--imparted a morestriking paleness. But underneath the door, communicating with the nextroom of the suite, gleamed an infinitesimally small, yet very powerful,fraction of contrast--a very thin line of ruddy light, showing that thesun beamed strongly into this room adjoining. The line of radiance wasthe only cheering thing visible in the place.
People give way to very infantine thoughts and actions when they wait;the battle-field of life is temporarily fenced off by a hard and fastline--the interview. Cytherea fixed her eyes idly upon the streak, andbegan picturing a wonderful paradise on the other side as the sourceof such a beam--reminding her of the well-known good deed in a naughtyworld.
Whilst she watched the particles of dust floating before the brilliantchink she heard a carriage and horses stop opposite the front of thehouse. Afterwards came the rustle of a lady's skirts down the corridor,and into the room communicating with the one Cytherea occupied.
The golden line vanished in parts like the phosphorescent streak causedby the striking of a match; there was the fall of a light footstepon the floor just behind it: then a pause. Then the foot tappedimpatiently, and 'There's no one here!' was spoken imperiously by alady's tongue.
'No, madam; in the next room. I am going to fetch her,' said theattendant.
'That will do--or you needn't go in; I will call her.'
Cytherea had risen, and she advanced to the middle door with the chinkunder it as the servant retired. She had just laid her hand on the knob,when it slipped round within her fingers, and the door was pulled openfrom the other side.
2. FOUR O'CLOCK
The direct blaze of the afternoon sun, partly refracted through thecrimson curtains of the window, and heightened by reflections from thecrimson-flock paper which covered the walls, and a carpet on the floorof the same tint, shone with a burning glow round the form of a ladystanding close to Cytherea's front with the door in her hand. Thestranger appeared to the maiden's eyes--fresh from the blue gloom, andassisted by an imagination fresh from nature--like a tall black figurestanding in the midst of fire. It was the figure of a finely-builtwoman, of spare though not angular proportions.
Cytherea involuntarily shaded her eyes with her hand, retreated a stepor two, and then she could for the first time see Miss Aldclyffe's facein addition to her outline, lit up by the secondary and softer lightthat was reflected from the varnished panels of the door. She was nota very young woman, but could boast of much beauty of the majesticautumnal phase.
'O,' said the lady, 'come this way.' Cytherea followed her to theembrasure of the window.
Both the women showed off themselves to advantage as they walked forwardin the orange light; and each showed too in her face that she hadbeen struck with her companion's appearance. The warm tint added toCytherea's face a voluptuousness which youth and a simple life had notyet allowed to express itself there ordinarily; whilst in the elderlady's face it reduced the customary expression, which might have beencalled sternness, if not harshness, to grandeur, and warmed her decayingcomplexion with much of the youthful richness it plainly had oncepossessed.
She appeared now no more than five-and-thirty, though she might easilyhave been ten or a dozen years older. She had clear steady eyes, a Romannose in its purest form, and also the round prominent chin with whichthe Caesars are represented in ancient marbles; a mouth expressing acapability for and tendency to strong emotion, habitually controlled bypride. There was a severity about the lower outlines of the face whichgave a masculine cast to this portion of her countenance. Womanlyweakness was nowhere visible save in one part--the curve of her foreheadand brows--there it was clear and emphatic. She wore a lace shawl over abrown silk dress, and a net bonnet set with a few blue cornflowers.
'You inserted the advertisement for a situation as lady's-maid givingthe address, G., Cross Street?'
'Yes, madam. Graye.'
'Yes. I have heard your name--Mrs. Morris, my housekeeper, mentionedyou, and pointed out your advertisement.'
This was puzzling intelligence, but there was not time enough toconsider it.
'Where did you live last?' continued Miss Aldclyffe.
'I have never been a servant before. I lived at home.'
'Never been out? I thought too at sight of you that you were toogirlish-looking to have done much. But why did you advertise with suchassurance? It misleads people.'
'I am very sorry: I put "inexperienced" at first, but my brother said itis absurd to trumpet your own weakness to the world, and would not letit remain.'
'But your mother knew what was right, I suppose?'
'I have no mother, madam.'
'Your father, then?'
'I have no father.'
'Well,' she said, more softly, 'your sisters, aunts, or cousins.'
'They didn't think anything about it.'
'You didn't ask them, I suppose.'
'No.'
'You should have done so, then. Why didn't you?'
'Because I haven't any of them, either.'
Miss Aldclyffe showed her surprise. 'You deserve forgiveness then atany rate, child,' she said, in a sort of drily-kind tone. 'However, Iam afraid you do not suit me, as I am looking for an elderly person. Yousee, I want an experienced maid who knows all the usual duties of theoffice.' She was going to add, 'Though I like your appearance,' but thewords seemed offensive to apply to the ladylike girl before her, and shemodified them to, 'though I like
you much.'
'I am sorry I misled you, madam,' said Cytherea.
Miss Aldclyffe stood in a reverie, without replying.
'Good afternoon,' continued Cytherea.
'Good-bye, Miss Graye--I hope you will succeed.'
Cytherea turned away towards the door. The movement chanced to be oneof her masterpieces. It was precise: it had as much beauty as wascompatible with precision, and as little coquettishness as wascompatible with beauty.
And she had in turning looked over her shoulder at the other lady with afaint accent of reproach in her face. Those who remember Greuze's 'Headof a Girl,' have an idea of Cytherea's look askance at the turning.It is not for a man to tell fishers of men how to set out theirfascinations so as to bring about the highest possible average of takeswithin the year: but the action that tugs the hardest of all at anemotional beholder is this sweet method of turning which steals thebosom away and leaves the eyes behind.
Now Miss Aldclyffe herself was no tyro at wheeling. When Cytherea hadclosed the door upon her, she remained for some time in her motionlessattitude, listening to the gradually dying sound of the maiden'sretreating footsteps. She murmured to herself, 'It is almost worth whileto be bored with instructing her in order to have a creature who couldglide round my luxurious indolent body in that manner, and look at mein that way--I warrant how light her fingers are upon one's head andneck.... What a silly modest young thing she is, to go away so suddenlyas that!' She rang the bell.
'Ask the young lady who has just left me to step back again,' she saidto the attendant. 'Quick! or she will be gone.'
Cytherea was now in the vestibule, thinking that if she had told herhistory, Miss Aldclyffe might perhaps have taken her into the household;yet her history she particularly wished to conceal from a stranger.When she was recalled she turned back without feeling much surprise.Something, she knew not what, told her she had not seen the last of MissAldclyffe.
'You have somebody to refer me to, of course,' the lady said, whenCytherea had re-entered the room.
'Yes: Mr. Thorn, a solicitor at Aldbrickham.'
'And are you a clever needlewoman?'
'I am considered to be.'
'Then I think that at any rate I will write to Mr. Thorn,' said MissAldclyffe, with a little smile. 'It is true, the whole proceeding isvery irregular; but my present maid leaves next Monday, and neither ofthe five I have already seen seem to do for me.... Well, I will write toMr. Thorn, and if his reply is satisfactory, you shall hear from me. Itwill be as well to set yourself in readiness to come on Monday.'
When Cytherea had again been watched out of the room, Miss Aldclyffeasked for writing materials, that she might at once communicate with Mr.Thorn. She indecisively played with the pen. 'Suppose Mr. Thorn's replyto be in any way disheartening--and even if so from his own imperfectacquaintance with the young creature more than from circumstantialknowledge--I shall feel obliged to give her up. Then I shall regret thatI did not give her one trial in spite of other people's prejudices. Allher account of herself is reliable enough--yes, I can see that by herface. I like that face of hers.'
Miss Aldclyffe put down the pen and left the hotel without writing toMr. Thorn.