by G. A. Henty
CHAPTER II.
A QUIET TIME.
It was dusk when we got to Putney. We had left all our heavy baggage, tobe sent up after us when we should have got into a house, and hadbrought up only what we should require for the present. We got into oneof the rickety-looking flies standing at the station, and told the manto drive us to No. 12, Charlemagne Villas. We were soon there, and inthe uncertain light we could see that it was a little detached housestanding in a garden, and cut off from its neighbours and the road by awall.
The driver got down and rang at the bell, and the gate, or rather thedoor in the wall, was opened by a small servant-girl.
"Does Mrs. Thompson live here?"
"Yes, ma'am; will you walk in?"
Very pleased to find that the object of our search still lived there,Polly and I got out of the fly and went in; while Harry, who said hehated this sort of thing, stopped outside to look after the boxes.
We were shown into a pretty little drawing-room, where the servant drewdown the blind and lighted the gas, and in a minute or two a brisklittle woman came in and said--
"My name is Thompson, ma'am; did you wish to see me?"
"Yes, Mrs. Thompson: some four years ago I was at Ramsgate, and whenthere I struck up a great acquaintance with your mother. She gave meyour address, and I said that if ever I came to London I would come toyou. Do you still let lodgings, and are they vacant?"
"I do, ma'am," Mrs. Thompson said, "and shall be only too glad to letthem to any one whom mother recommended them to. If you had come twomonths later I might have been full, but my season does not begin tillApril, so we are quite empty at present."
A bargain was soon made with her, and Mrs. Thompson went to the top ofthe stairs and called "Mother," and, to my great surprise, the oldbathing-woman herself came up. She knew me at once.
"Miss Ashleigh!" she exclaimed. "Oh, miss, I am so glad to see you. Doyou know it is only ten days ago, when I saw your loss in the paper,that I said to Jane: 'Now, Jane, I should not be surprised if MissAshleigh comes up to town; every one does seem to come up here some timeor other in their lives--perhaps this is her time.' And I said, miss,that I should take the liberty of writing to you in a few days, in caseyou might be coming up. I remembered I had given you Jane's address, butI thought you would have lost that long since. It is very kind of you tohave thought of what an old woman said so long ago."
"Not kind at all," I said, "I was very glad to think that there was aplace I seemed to know something of, and as I wrote the address down inmy pocket-book at the time, I had no trouble in finding it. Have yougiven up your old occupation?"
"No, miss, but it is not the season now, and only one of us waits onthrough the winter, and as I begin to find the water then too cold formy old limbs, I have given it up these last two winters, and come hereand stop with Jane and her husband."
Our landlady now took us upstairs. Our room was a nice large one, overthe drawing room. Harry's was behind ours, smaller, but quite largeenough for him, and both were beautifully clean and nice.
While tea was getting ready, we unpacked as much as we could, and inhalf an hour, when Harry's voice was heard shouting at the foot of thestairs that tea was ready, we were quite astonished to find how much wehad done, and how nearly we had finished our unpacking and putting away.The room below looked so comfortable that we could not help exclaimingwith surprise and pleasure when we went in. A bright fire blazed in thegrate, various gauze covers which had been placed over the chimney glassand picture frames, had been taken off. A white table-cloth was laid onthe table, with a very pretty tea service upon it. Harry had made thetea, and the bright copper kettle was standing on the fire. I don't knowwhen I enjoyed a meal so much--it seemed so homelike and comfortablethat we were all quite in spirits, and certainly all very hungry; and weagreed that it was most fortunate that I had kept the oldbathing-woman's address.
We were very comfortable at Mrs. Thompson's; indeed, we could not havebeen more so in our own house, and we almost debated whether we shouldnot stay as we were. Still, after all, there is nothing like being in ahouse of one's own; and it would give Polly and me something to do tosee after the housekeeping. Besides, Harry said that he wanted a placewhere he could have men in of an evening to have a glass of grog andsmoke a pipe with him; for, although he did not mind smoking when alonewith us, he said he did not wish the room where his sisters were to looklike the bar parlour in a public-house.
On the Monday after we got there, Harry went up to work. Sometimes hewent to an office at the West End, and on these days we breakfasted athalf-past seven, which was rather a hardship; still it would cease to beone in another month, when the mornings got lighter and the weatherwarmer; and it could not be helped, as Harry had to catch the tenminutes past eight train, so as to be at his office by nine. Sometimeshe had to go out surveying, and on these mornings he had to start veryearly--soon after six. When he did this, we did not get up to breakfastwith him, but he had some bread and butter taken up to his roomovernight, and he made a cup of coffee in a patent machine over aspirit-lamp.
After we had been in Putney about a week, and began to know the place alittle, Harry asked us to look about for a house. We were not long infinding one, for Polly and I had observed a pretty little place to letwithin a hundred yards of us, which we both agreed would suit exactly;and now, having Harry's permission to look for a house, we at once wentthere.
We found that it was just what we wanted; indeed, that it could not havebeen more so if it had been specially built for the purpose. It was oneof a row of six little semi-detached villas--at least they were calledvillas--but I think the word cottages would have been more appropriate.They stood back from the road, with pretty flower gardens in front, anda good large piece of ground behind for vegetables. A row of lime-treesgrew in the gardens close to the road, the branches of which weretrained towards each other, so that they formed a green wall in summer,and it was only through the arch cut over each gate that the housescould then be seen at all by passers-by. It was just the right size, andwas altogether a charming little place, and the rent was L35 a year.
Harry stopped at home the next morning an hour behind his usual time, togo in with us to see it. He was as much pleased with it as we were, andat once decided upon taking it. It was a few days before he could sparetime to give a day with us in town to buy the furniture; but in just amonth from the date of our arrival in Putney we were snugly installed inour new home, which was called No. 1, Daisy Villas, Charlemagne Road;and comfortable as we had been at Mrs. Thompson's, we all agreed it wasfar pleasanter being in a house of our own. Harry had furnished thedrawing-room very nicely, and bought a piano as a joint present forPolly and myself.
We had promised old Andrew that directly we were in a house of our ownwe would have up his youngest daughter Susan, who had been with us for ayear before we left Canterbury, as our servant; and, accordingly, whenwe had taken the cottage, and the furniture came in, we sent for Susan,who arrived in due course, and was installed as our maid-of-all-work;and an excellent servant she turned out.
On the opposite side of the road to us was a large field, which had asyet escaped the builder's hands, and which was in autumn and winter usedas a playground for the children of the neighbourhood, and in spring andsummer was shut up, and kept for hay. Before we left, however, a builderhad began to erect a line of villas opposite to us, but for the firsttwo years there was nothing to interfere with our view; and evenafterwards it did not matter so much, for, as I have said, in summer ourlime-trees formed such a leafy screen that we could not see beyond ourbright little flower garden.
We liked Putney very much. Polly and I were capital walkers, and therewere such pretty walks to be taken round it--up the hill, and across thecommon to Wimbledon, or on nearly to Kingston, or across Putney heath,through Barnes, to Mortlake and Kew, or--best of all--through the greenlanes to Richmond Park, with its groups of splendid trees, its brownfern brakes, and fallow-deer; and sometimes, when it was fine and the
water was high, along the towing-path to Hammersmith, to watch thebarges drifting lazily on the quiet water, and the steamboats, full ofholiday-makers to Kew, cleaving their swift way through it.
I certainly got to like Putney, with its quaint High Street, its nobleriver, and its pretty walks, very very much--not in the same way that Iloved Canterbury. Canterbury, with its quiet, sleepy ways, is far bettersuited to me as I am now; but as I was then, I thought Putney adelightful place to live in. It was, too, such a convenient distancefrom town, and once a week Polly and I used to walk across the bridge,get into an omnibus, and go as far as the Circus, and then get out andwalk up Regent Street and Oxford Street, and look at the shops.
It was not always that we had shopping to do, although we generallymanaged to want something, as a sort of excuse for going; but we bothenjoyed it much, it was all so new to us; for we had never been inLondon at all, except at the time when we were at school--and then, ofcourse, we never went up into London itself, and when we were stayingrespectively with Lady Desborough and Ada, when we were very much toogrand to go out shopping on foot. So that the shops, and the gaycarriages, and the bustle and confusion were all quite new, and verypleasant to us.
Sometimes of an evening, when Harry got back in good time, he would takeus up to the theatre, at which he occasionally had a box given him by afriend in the "Metropolitan." Being in deep mourning, we could not gointo any other part of the house; nor, indeed, did we go at all for thefirst six months of our stay in London.
After we had been in our new home about a fortnight, I wrote to tell Adawhere we were. I had not done so before, because I did not wish her tocome down to see us till we were quite straight, and had everything verynice: it was a little bit of pride, perhaps, but so it was. I hadreceived a letter from her a week after dear papa's death, condolingwith us, and asking Polly and me to go and stay with her for a while,when we felt equal to it, until our future plans were settled; and I hadwritten back, thanking her, and telling her I would let her know whenthings were arranged. After that, I had not sent my usual monthly letterto her, but, as I had written myself to Percy, that did not matter. Theday before I wrote, I had received a letter from her, which wasforwarded from Canterbury, asking what had become of me, and this I nowanswered by giving our present address, and saying how pleased we shouldbe to see her.
By this time it was the end of April; the season happened to be an earlyone, and our garden was gay with spring flowers, with which we hadstocked it from a nursery close by, and the lime-trees in front werejust putting out their delicate green leaves.
On the very day after I had written to Ada, an open carriage with asplendid pair of horses stopped in front of our house, and a tallpowdered footman got down, opened the gate and came down the littlewalk, with a rather mystified air, as if wondering what his mistresscould possibly want at No. 1, Daisy Villas.
He knocked a prolonged and thundering knock at the door, such as hadprobably never before been sounded upon it, and which was evidentlyintended to impress us all with a sense of the extreme importance andurgency of our visitor, and I heard him inquire of Susan, when sheopened the door, in a tone of the most dignified condescension, "If MissAshleigh were at home?" Finding that she was, he returned, opened thecarriage door and let down the steps, and Ada got out and came up to thedoor, and in another minute she was in my arms.
It was some time before we were composed enough to talk at all. It wasso long since we had met--nearly five years now--at the time when Percycame down with her to Canterbury, when I became engaged to him. How muchhad happened since then! how many changes! it seemed an age to look backupon, and a very sad age too. Ada was naturally the first to recoverherself, and as soon as she saw that I could listen to her, she began toscold me for being six weeks so near London without writing to let herknow, and said that she had felt so indignant, when she first receivedmy letter, that she had a great mind not to come down at all. I excusedmyself as well as I could, and told her frankly that I had beeninfluenced by three reasons--the first, that from the time when we cameup we had been so occupied in seeing about the furniture of our newhouse, that we had been busy from morning till night; the second, thatowing to the same cause, both we and the house had been in such a stateof confusion that we were not fit to receive visitors, and that Ipreferred her seeing the place when it was clean and tidy; and lastly,that I really had hardly felt equal to seeing her, and having so manysad memories called up. Ada still scolded me a little, and then, findingthat I had now recovered myself, said:--
"There, Agnes, I will forgive you; and now let me look fairly at you:turn to the light. Really, I do not think you look a year older."
"Nonsense, Ada, I know I am looking older; I do not care for myself, butI only hope Percy will not think me looking dreadfully old when he comesback."
"If he does, Agnes, I will have nothing to say to him. Let me see, hehas been gone now nearly four years,--four more, darling! it seems along time to wait, but still it is something that half has gone, andwhat a happiness it is that his regiment was not out in that dreadfulCrimea. And now, how am I looking, Agnes?"
"A little changed, Ada. You see I speak the truth. You were, likemyself, nearly eighteen then; you are twenty-three now. Older, and alittle more matronly-looking, for you were a girl then; you are a womannow, but certainly not less beautiful; indeed, I think more so, for yourface has a calmer and brighter expression than it had."
I was not flattering her, for as I looked at her I thought I had neverseen such a lovely woman in my life. Ada laughed and coloured a little,and declared I was an old goose; and then I said:--
"And now for a very important question, Ada; how is baby?"
"Very well, Agnes; he is six months old now, getting quite a big,troublesome boy. Ah, here is Polly!"
For Polly, always thoughtful, had remained out of the room, to let Adaand me have our first meeting, after so long a separation, togetheralone. It was only a year since they had met, and I was pleased to seeby her manner how fond Ada was of her; as in the event of my going toIndia with Percy, her friendship would be very valuable to Polly.
"And is that your carriage, Ada?" I asked.
"Dear me, no," Ada said, "my equipage is a simple brougham. But I was inat the Square this morning with Holmeskirk, and I said I was coming downto see you; so the countess--who has a very high opinion of you, mydear, and who constantly inquires after you, especially as she knows, ofcourse, how you stand with Percy--insisted on my taking her carriage andleaving her card. She sent her love, and she hopes that you and Pollywill call upon her when you come over to see me; and I can assure you,Agnes, the dear old lady meant it. And now what day will you come? Iwill send my brougham down any day you like to name, that is if you willlet me first see what days I am disengaged."
Ada thereupon took out her tablets, and found she was engaged for everyday except Friday.
"Now, Agnes, I want you and Polly to come early to lunch. Then we willhave the countess's carriage--she is a great invalid now, and she likesmy using her carriage,--and we will have a drive in the park, and then along cosy talk till dinner, at seven. And I want your brother to come todinner, and then the brougham shall bring you back. Holmeskirk wouldhave called himself; but your letter said that your brother always wentout early, so he knew he had no chance of finding him in; but he askedme to leave his card."
After a little consultation with Polly, I accepted the invitation as faras the going up to dinner was concerned, but solely on condition that wecame up in our own way. Ada inquired what was our own way, and I saidthat we should send up a box by the Parcels' Delivery with the things werequired for dinner, and that we ourselves should come up by an omnibusto Sloane Street; that we would walk from there to her ladyship's, andthat we should have a fly to fetch us at night. And so it was agreed;and Ada sat and talked for more than an hour, and then got up to go. Wewent down the garden with her, and she stopped at the gate to kiss usagain before she got in; to, I have no doubt, the intense astonishmento
f the powdered footman, who was holding the carriage-door open, and whomust have suffered the more that his position prevented him expressinghis feelings, except by assuming an expression of even more stonyimpassiveness than before; for I have no doubt that before he saw thismark of affection and familiarity, he had the impression thatViscountess Holmeskirk had come down to pay a visit to some old nurse ordomestic whom she had known in childhood.
When Harry came home, I told him of the engagement we had made for him,and he pished and grumbled, and said at first that he would not go; but,as I pointed out, there was no possible excuse for his not doing so, andindeed that it would be of no use, for Ada had particularly begged me,should Harry say he was engaged for that day, to write at once and lether know, and she would change the day for one in the following week. SoHarry had to give in, and on the day of our engagement arranged to dressin town, and come straight down, for he was busy just then, and couldnot get away till six o'clock. Polly and I got to Ada's house, which wasin Wilton Crescent, at one o'clock. Lord Holmeskirk was at home, andrenewed his acquaintance with me with the frank heartiness which wasnatural to him.
After lunch Ada took us up to the nursery to see baby, and after we hadsufficiently admired him--and he was really a fine little fellow--we puton our things and went for a drive with her in the park in the Countessof Rochester's carriage. On our return we went in with Ada to call onthe countess herself, who lived in Belgrave Square, and who was verykind in her manner and remarks. She was evidently very fond of Ada, andnot a little proud of her beautiful daughter-in-law; and I could seethat Ada, on her part, was very attached to the kind old lady, whom shetreated with a deference which I had certainly never seen her exhibitfor her own imperious mother.
After we got back to Ada's we took off our things, and sat down for along, cozy chat about the past. I found she was very happy in hermarried life, and that her husband was all she could possibly wish him.I certainly thought that her happiness had improved her; for, althoughquite as cheerful as of old, she had a quiet dignity which very muchbecame her. She said that she hoped, when we were able to enter intogaiety again, that we would let her take us with her into society.
For myself I declined at once, and I am glad that Polly did the same. Itold her we moved in a sphere as far removed from the one in which shedid, as the sun was from the earth, and that I was sure it was a greatmistake, as my own example might prove, to go out of it. "It is pleasantfor a time, Ada," I said, "but it is a bitter fruit; no good can come ofit. When Percy comes home, if we are married, and if Polly is stillsingle, it will be a different thing; but at present Daisy Villa hasnothing in common, except our affection, with Wilton Crescent andBelgrave Square. We shall be very glad to come over sometimes to see youquietly, and for you to drive over to see us when you can spare timefrom your gaieties, but beyond that, as long as I am Miss Ashleigh,nothing." Ada tried hard to shake my resolution, but in vain, and Pollywas equally firm with myself.
Harry came to dinner, and Ada made him feel perfectly at home. Certainlyprosperity had not spoiled her; she was just as frank and as friendly aswhen she had been staying with us as a girl at Canterbury; sheintroduced him to Lord Holmeskirk with a laughing remark, that Harry hadat one time very nearly prevented her from ever occupying the positionshe now so unworthily filled, by making the most desperate love to herwhen she was only sixteen years old. Lord Holmeskirk laughed, and said,that in that case he was very greatly Harry's debtor in that he had notsucceeded in his attempt upon Ada's affections.
Harry and Lord Holmeskirk were soon on very friendly terms. They suitedeach other well. They had moved certainly in very different circles, andhad seen very different sides of life; but they were of the same happydisposition; both in their way singularly straightforward men, and bothgifted with the same honest determination to see only the best side ofthings.
Our little dinner-party went off very pleasantly; and I felt quiterelieved to find that when we were helped, the servants left the room;and Ada then told us that she had suffered so much as a girl from thestony presence behind her mother's chair, that she had alwaysdetermined, if she were at the head of a house of her own, never to havea servant in the room one moment longer than necessary.
After dessert was over, Ada and we went up to the nursery, leaving thegentlemen over their wine, and I believe they would have sat and talkedthere all night if Ada had not at last sent them message after messageto say that tea was ready upstairs. Soon after they came up our flyarrived, and we went home very much pleased with our evening.
After that Harry never raised any objection to going to dine at WiltonCrescent, which we afterwards did every month or so when Ada was intown. Polly and I used to lunch with her once a fortnight, and thecoronetted carriage was very often down at Daisy Villa, where it neverceased to be an object of wonder and admiration to the small children ofthe neighbourhood, and I have no doubt gave us great standing anddignity in the eyes of the inhabitants of the other five villas. Ireally believe we never ceased to be subjects for wonder and speculationto the countess's powdered footman, who knowing that Lord Holmeskirk hadmarried the daughter of the fashionable Lady Desborough, could neverform any hypothesis perfectly satisfactory to himself as to how shecould possibly come to be familiar with people living in such a small,and exceedingly unfashionable domicile as No. 1, Daisy Villas,Charlemagne Road, Putney.