The Chaplain of the Fleet

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by Walter Besant


  CHAPTER III.

  HOW NANCY RECKONED UP THE COMPANY.

  Nancy Levett herself, pretty and merry, prattling, rattling Nancy, notgrown a bit, and hardly taller than my shoulder. I held her out atarm's length.

  "You here, Nancy?"

  Then we kissed again.

  "And not a bit changed, Nancy?"

  "And oh! so changed, Kitty. So tall and grand. Come to my mother."

  Lady Levett was standing close by with Sir Robert, who took me by theshoulders and kissed my cheeks, forehead and lips in fatherly fashion.

  "Gadso!" he cried. "This is brave indeed. Things are likely to go wellat Epsom. We have got back our Kitty, wife."

  Lady Levett was colder. Perhaps she had misgivings on what had beendone with me for the last twelvemonth. And then I, who had gone away asimple, rustic maid, was now in hoops, patches and powder.

  "Kitty will tell us presently," she said, "I doubt not what she hasdone, and under whose protection she is travelling."

  Then I hastened to present Mrs. Esther, who stood aside, somewhatembarrassed.

  "Madam," I said, "I present to you my benefactress and guardian, Mrs.Esther, to whose care I was entrusted by my uncle. Dear aunt, this ismy Lady Levett. Mrs. Esther Pimpernel, madam, hath done me the singularkindness of calling me her niece."

  "My niece and daughter by adoption," said that kind lady. "Yourladyship will be pleased, out of your goodness of heart, to hearthe best report of this dear child's health and conduct. The goodprinciples, my lady, which she learned of you and of her lamentedfather, have borne fruit in virtues of obedience and duty."

  Both ladies made a deep reverence. Then said Lady Levett--"I assureyou, my dear madam, I looked for nothing less in this dear child.From such a father as was hers, could aught but good descend? Madam,I desire your better acquaintance. For Kitty's sake, I hope we may befriends."

  "Why," said Sir Robert, "we are friends already. Kitty, thou art grown:thou art a fine girl. I warrant we shall have breaking of hearts beforeall is done. Epsom Wells was never so full of gallants. Well, breakingof hearts is rare sport, and seldom hurts the men, though they make sogreat a coil about it in their rhymes and nonsense. But have a care,both of you: sometimes the girls get their own little cockleshells ofhearts broken in earnest."

  "I should like to see the man among them all who could break my heart,"said Nancy pertly, laughing.

  "Yours?" her father asked, tapping her pretty rosy cheek. "It is such alittle one, no one can find it: nevertheless, lass, it is big enough tocarry all thy father's in it, big as he is."

  Then we began to ask questions all together. I to inquire after thevillage and the hall, the church, the ponies, the garden, the hounds,the fruit, all the things we used to think about: and Will, theytold me, was at home, but was coming to the Wells for certain racesin which he would himself ride. Harry Temple was gone to London, butwould perhaps come to Epsom as soon as he knew who was there. Why had Iwritten not one single letter?

  I blushed and hung my head. I could not tell the truth, for the sake ofMrs. Esther, how I was ashamed at first to speak of the place in whichI found myself, and afterwards was afraid; but I should have to explainmy silence.

  "It was not," I stammered, "that I was ungrateful to your ladyship forall your kindness. But things were strange at first, and there wasnothing that I could take any pleasure in telling your ladyship. Anda London letter from a simple girl, who can send no news of the greatworld, is a worthless thing to deliver by the post."

  "Nay, child," said Lady Levett, "we should not have grudged the chargefor good tidings of thy welfare."

  "Our Kitty," said Mrs. Esther, colouring a little, for it is neverpleasant to help at concealing, dissembling, or falsifying things,"has had a busy time of late. Your ladyship knows, doubtless, thather education was not completed. We have had masters and teachers ofdancing, music, deportment, and the like during the last few months,and I trust that we shall find she will do credit to the instructionshe has received. Meanwhile I have, for reasons which it would notinterest your ladyship to learn, been living in great retirement. Wehad a lodging lately in Red Lion Street, not far from the FoundlingHospital, where the air is good and the situation quiet."

  We fell, presently, into a sort of procession. First went Lady Levettand Mrs. Esther (I overheard the latter speaking at length of herfather, the Lord Mayor, of her grandfather, also the Lord Mayor, andof her last visit to Epsom), then came Nancy, Sir Robert, who held myhand, and myself. The music, which had stopped during prayers, beganagain now. The Terrace was crowded with the visitors, and Nancy beganto point them out to me as we walked along.

  "Look, child--oh! how beautiful you have grown!--there is Mr. PagodaTree--it is really Samuel Tree, or Obadiah Tree, or, I think, CrabappleTree, but they all call him Pagoda Tree: he has made a quarter of amillion in Bengal, and is come running to Bath, Epsom and Tunbridge, insearch of a wife. With all his money I, for one, would not have him,the yellow little Nabob! He has five-and-twenty blacks at his lodgings,and they say he sticks dinner-knives into them if his curry be not hotenough. There goes the Dean of St. Sepulchre's. He is come to drink thewaters, which are good for a stomach enfeebled by great dinners; thereis no better fox-hunter in the county, and no finer judge of port. Pityto be seventy years old when one has all the will and the power to goon doing good to the Christian Church by fox-hunting and drinking"--hewas certainly a very red-faced divine, who looked as if this worldwas more in his thoughts than the next, where, so far as we know,fox-hunting will not be practised and port will not be held in esteem."You see yonder little fribble, my dear--do not look at him, or it willmake him think the better of himself: he is a haberdasher from town,who pretends to be a Templar. A fribble, Kitty--oh! you innocent,tall, beautiful creature!--a fribble is a thing made up of rags, wig,ruffles, wind, froth, amber cane, paint, powder, coat-skirts and sword.Nothing else, I assure you. No brains, no heart, no ears, no taste,nothing. There are many fribbles at the Wells, who will dance with you,talk to you, and--if you have enough money--would like to run away withyou. Don't throw yourself away on a fribble, Kitty. And don't run awaywith anybody. Nothing so uncomfortable.

  "That gallant youth in the red-coat is an officer, who had better bewith his colours in America than showing his scarlet at the Wells. Yethe is a pretty fellow, is he not? Here are more clergymen----" One ofthem somewhat reminded me of my uncle, for he wore, like him, a fullwig, a cassock of silk, and a flowing gown; also, he carried his headwith the assurance which belongs to one who is a teacher of men, andrespects his own wisdom. But he differed from my uncle in being sleek,which the famous Chaplain of the Fleet certainly was not. He droppedhis eyes as he went, inwardly rapt, no doubt, by heavenly thoughts.

  "That," Nancy went on, "is the great Court preacher, the ReverendBellamour Parolles, Master of Arts. The shabby divine beside him is theVicar of Sissinghurst, in Kent, who is here to drink the waters for acomplaint that troubles the poor man. What a difference!"

  The country parson went dressed in a grey-striped calamanco nightgown;he wore a wig which had once been white, but was now, by the influenceof this uncertain climate, turned to a pale orange; his brown hatwas encompassed by a black hatband; his bands, which might have beencleaner, decently retired under the shadow of his chin; his greystockings were darned with blue worsted. As they walked together itseemed to me that the country parson was saying to the crowd: "Yousee--I am in rags; I go in darns, patches, and poverty; yet by mysacred profession and my learning, I am the equal of my brother insilk." While the more prosperous one might have been thought to say:"Behold the brotherhood and equality of the Church, when I, the greatand fashionable, know no difference between myself and my humblebrethren!"

  In the afternoon and evening there was, however, this difference, thatthe town parson was seen at the Assembly Rooms among the ladies, whilehis country brother might have been seen at the Crown, over a pipe anda brown George full of strong October.

  Then Nancy went on to
point out more of the visitors. There weremerchants, well known on the Royal Exchange; courtiers from St.James's; country gentlemen, with their madams, brave in muslin pinnersand sarsnet hoods, from estates remote from the great town, where theyhad never ceased to consider themselves the feudal lords of the peopleas well as the land: there were younger sons full of talk about horsesand hounds: there were doctors in black, with bag-wigs: there werelawyers in vacation, their faces as full of sharpness as is the face ofa fox: there were young fellows not yet launched upon the fashionableworld, who looked on with the shyness and impudence of youth, trying tocatch the trick of dress, manner and carriage which marks the perfectbeau; there were old fellows, like Mr. Walsingham, who sat on thebenches, or ran about, proud of their activity, in attendance on theladies. It was indeed a motley crew.

  "They say that Epsom has come into fashion again," Nancy went on. "Iknow not. Tunbridge is a dangerous rival. Yet this year the place isfull. That young man coming to speak to me you may distinguish by youracquaintance, my dear."

  What a distinction! "He is--I hope your lordship is well thismorning--he is the young Lord Eardesley, whose father is but just dead.He is a Virginian by birth, and all his fortune, with which the familyestates have been recovered, was made by tobacco on his plantations. Hehas hundreds of negro slaves, besides convicts. Yet he is of grave andserious disposition, and abhors the smell of a pipe. Peggy Baker thinksto catch his lordship. Yet coronets are not so easily won."

  She stopped again to speak to some ladies of her acquaintance.

  "Well, my dear, as for our manner of life here, it is the same as atall watering-places. We dress and undress: we meet at church, and onthe Terrace and the New Parade, and the Assembly Rooms: we go to theDowns to see races before dinner and after dinner: we talk scandal: wesay wicked things about each other: we try to catch the eyes of themen: we hate each other with malice and uncharitableness: we raffle: wegamble: we listen to the music: we exchange pretty nothings with thebeaux: we find out all the stories about everybody here: and we danceat the Assembly."

  She stopped to breathe.

  "This is a rattle," said Sir Robert, "which never stops--like the clackof the water-wheel. Go on, Nan."

  "One of our amusements," she went on, tossing her little head, "isto buy strawberries, cherries, vegetables, salad, fowls and ducks ofthe higglers who bring them to the market, or carry them round tothe houses of the town. The gentlemen, I observe, derive a peculiarsatisfaction in chucking those of the higglers who are young andgood-looking under the chin. This, I confess, is a pleasure which Icannot for my own part understand."

  "Saucy baggage!" said her father.

  "You and I, Kitty," she continued, "who do not want to chuck farmers'daughters under the chin, may, when we are tired of the races or thepromenade, take an airing in a coach, or watch the raffling, or thecard-players. Here they play cards all day long, except on Sunday. Orwe may go to the book-shop and hear the latest scandal: or we may gohome and trim our own things and talk about frocks, and patches, andpoetry, and lace, and lovers. But, for Heaven's sake, Kitty, do not, inthis censorious place, make that pretty face too cheap, and let no onefollow you on the Terrace but the best of the company."

  "Good advice," said Sir Robert. "This girl of mine has got her father'shead."

  "As for cards," Nancy went on, taking no notice of her father'sinterruption, "the tables are always laid in the Assembly Room: theladies mostly play at quadrille, and the gentlemen at whist; but thereare tables for hazard, lansquenet, faro, and baccarat, where all comersare welcome, provided they have got money to lose and can lose itwithout also losing their temper, a thing we women throw away daily,and lose without regarding it, so cheap and abundant a commodity itis. My dear, so long as I value my face, I will never touch the odiousdelightful things. Yet the joy of winning your enemy's money! Oh! oh!And the dreadful grief to lose your own!

  "There is a concert this evening. I would not advise you to attend it,but to wait for Monday's ball--there to make your first appearance. Ishall go, because some of my swains are going to play with the paidmusicians; and of course I look to see them break down and spoil thewhole music, to their great confusion.

  "But Monday--Monday is our day of days. All Sunday we think about it,and cannot say our prayers for thinking of the dear delightful day. Andwhat the clergyman preaches about none of us know, for wishing the daywas here. On Monday we have a great public breakfast to begin with: thegentry come to it from all the country-side, with the great people fromDurdans: in fine weather we breakfast under the trees upon the Terracewhile the music plays. You will find it pleasant to take your chocolateto the strains of flute and clarionet, French horn and hautboy; thesunshine raises the spirits, and the music fills the head with prettyfancies. Besides, every girl likes to be surrounded by tall fellowswho, though we care not a pin for one of them, are useful for providingconversation, cakes, and creams, telling stories, saying gallantthings, fetching, carrying, and making Peggy Baker jealous. On Monday,too, there are always matches on the Downs: we pretend to be interestedin the horses: we come back to dinner and a concert: in the afternoonsome of the gentlemen give tea and chocolate; and at six o'clock, thefiddles tune up--oh, the delicious scraping!--we all take our places:and then begins--oh! oh! oh!--the dear, delightful ball! My child, letMiss Peggy Baker dress her best, put on her finest airs, and swim aboutwith her most languishing sprawl, I know who shall outshine her, and bethe Queen of the Wells."

  "Yourself, dear Nancy?"

  "No; not myself, dear Nancy," she replied, imitating. "Oh! you wellmay blush for shame, pretty hypocrite! 'Tis yourself, dear Kitty, thatI mean. You shall burst upon their astonished gaze like Venus risingfrom the sea in our picture at home, only better dressed than that poorcreature!"

  Just then a young lady, with the largest hoop I had ever seen, withpatches and powder, and accompanied by three or four gentlemen,came slowly along the walk. As she drew near she looked at me withcuriosity. She was a tall girl--nearly as tall as myself--with featuresrather larger than ordinary, and as she moved I understood what Nancymeant by languishing and swimming.

  Nancy ran to meet her, taking her by both hands, and affecting a mightyjoy.

  "Dear Miss Peggy," she began, "I am charmed to see you looking so welland lovely. How that dress becomes your shape! with what an air sitsthat hat!"

  "Oh, Miss Nancy!" Miss Peggy swam and languished, agitating her fanand half shutting her eyes, which were very large and limpid. "Praisefrom such a judge of beauty and dress as yourself is rare indeed. Whatshould we poor women do without the discrimination of our own sex. Menhave no discernment. A well-dressed woman and a draggletail are all oneto them."

  "Not all men, dear Miss Peggy," continued Nancy, her eyes sparkling."Mr. Walsingham was only saying this morning that you are, likehimself, a proof of the salubrity of the Wells, since it is now thefifth season----"

  "The third, dear child," Miss Peggy interrupted, with a tap of her fanon Nancy's knuckles--indeed she deserved it. "I am very much obliged toMr. Walsingham, whose tongue is free with all the ladies at the Wells.It is but yesterday since he said of you----"

  "This is my friend, Miss Kitty Pleydell," said Nancy quickly, rubbingher knuckles. "Kitty, my dear, you have heard of the beautiful PeggyBaker, last year the Toast of Tunbridge Wells, and the year beforethe Toast of Bath. Up to the present she has been our pride. OnMonday evening you shall see her in her bravest attire, the centre ofattraction, envied by us poor homely creatures, who have to contentourselves with the rustic beaux, the parsons, the lawyers, and thehalf-pay officers."

  Now, whether this artful girl did it on purpose, or whether it wasby accident, I know not: but every word of this speech contained aninnuendo against poor Miss Peggy. For it was true that she had been fortwo years following a Toast, but she was still unmarried, and withouta lover, though she had so many men for ever in her train; and it wasalso true that among her courtiers at Epsom, the little band who heldback while the ladies talked, th
ere were, as I afterwards learned,at least three rustic beaux, two lawyers, a fashionable parson, andsix half-pay officers. However, she disguised whatever resentment shemight have felt, very kindly bade me welcome to the Wells, hoped that Ishould enjoy the place, told Nancy that her tongue run away with her,and that she was a saucy little baggage, tapped her knuckles for thesecond time with her fan, and moved away.

  When Nancy had finished telling me of the amusements of the place andthe people--I omit most of what she said as to the people because,although doubtless true, the stories did not redound to their credit,and may now very well be forgotten--we left the Terrace, Sir Robert nowjoining madam, and looked at the stalls and booths which were rangedalong the side. They were full of pretty things exhibited for sale,and instead of rude prentice boys for salesmen they were good-lookinggirls, with whom some of the gentlemen were talking and laughing.

  "More chin-chucking, my dear," said Nancy.

  It was the fashion to have a lottery at almost every stall, so thatwhen you bought anything you received a ticket with your purchase,which entitled you to a chance of the prize. When you chose a bottleof scent, the girl who gave it you handed with it a ticket which gaveyou the chance of winning five guineas: with a pair of stockings camea ticket for a ten-guinea lottery. It was the same thing with all theshops. A leg of mutton bought at the butcher's might procure for thepurchaser the sum of twenty guineas; the barber who dressed your hairpresented you with a chance for his five-guinea draw; the very tavernsand ordinaries had their lotteries, so that for every sixpenny plateof boiled beef a 'prentice had his chance with the rest, and mightwin a guinea; you ordered a dozen oysters, and they came with thefishmonger's compliments and a ticket for his lottery, the first prizeof which would be two guineas, the drawing to take place on such a day,with auditors appointed to see all fair, and school children named topull out the tickets; even the woman who sold apples and cherries ina basket loudly bellowed along the street that she had a half-crowndraw, a five-shilling draw, and so on. Every one of us treasured upthe tickets, but I never met any who won. Yet we had the pleasure ofattending the drawing, dreaming of lucky numbers, and spending ourprizes beforehand. I am sure that Nancy must have spent in this waymany hundreds of pounds during the season, and by talking over all thefine things she would buy, the way in which their exhibition upon herlittle figure would excite the passion of envy in the breast of PeggyBaker and others, and her own importance thus bedecked, she had quiteas much pleasure out of her imaginary winnings as if they had beenreal ones. It is a happy circumstance for mankind that they are ableto enjoy what they never can possess, and to be, in imagination, thegreat, the glorious, the rich, the powerful personages which they cannever, in the situation wherein Providence has placed them, hope tobecome.

  Presently we went home to dinner, which was served for us by CicelyCrump. After dinner, while Mrs. Esther dozed, Cicely told me herhistory. Her father, she said, had been a substantial tradesman inCheapside, and though little of stature, was in his youth a man ofthe most determined courage and resolution. When only just out ofhis apprenticeship he fell in love with a beautiful young lady namedJenny Medlicott (daughter of the same Alderman Medlicott whose ruinbrought poor Mrs. Esther to destruction): as he knew that he couldnever get the consent of the alderman, being poor and of obscure birth,and knowing besides that all is fair in love, this lad of mettlerepresented himself to his nymph as a young gentleman of the Temple,son of a country squire. In this disguise he persuaded her to run awaywith him, and they were married. But when they returned to London theyfound that the alderman was ruined, and gone off his head. Thereforethey separated, the lady going to Virginia with Lady Eardesley, motherof the young lord now at Epsom, and the husband going back to the shop.After the death of poor Jenny he married again. "And," said Cicely,"though my mother is no gentlewoman, one cannot but feel that shemight have been Miss Jenny Medlicott herself had things turned outdifferently. And that makes all of us hold up our heads. And as forpoor father, he never forgot his first wife, and was always pleased torelate how he ran away with her all the way to Scotland, armed to theteeth, and ready, for her sake, to fight a dozen highwaymen. Such aresolute spirit he had!"

  Then Nancy Levett came, bringing with her a milliner, Mrs. Bergamot.

  "Kitty," she cried, "I cannot rest for thinking of your first ball, andI have brought you Mrs. Bergamot to advise. My dear, you _must_ be welldressed." Then she whispered: "Do you want money, dear? I have some."

  I told her I had as much as a hundred and twenty guineas, at which shescreamed with delight.

  "Kitty!" she cried again, clasping my hands. "A hundred guineas! ahundred guineas! and twenty more! My dear, that odd twenty, that pooroverflowing of thy rich measure, is the utmost I could get for thisseason at the Wells. Oh! happy, happy girl, to have such a face, sucha shape, such eyes, such hair, such hands and feet, and a hundred andtwenty guineas to set all off!"

  She sat down, clasped her hands, and raised her eyes to Heaven as if inthankfulness. I think I see her now, the little dainty merry maid, soarch, so apt, sitting before me with a look which might be of envy orof joy. She had eyes so bright, a mouth so little, dimples so cunning,a cheek so rosy and a chin so rounded, that one could not choose butlove her.

  "Miss Pleydell," she said to the milliner, "has not brought all herthings from London. You must get what she wants at once, for Monday'sball. Now, let us see."

  Then we held a parliament of four, counting Cicely, over the greatquestion of my frocks. Nancy was prime minister, and did all thetalking, turning over the things.

  "Let me see, Mrs. Bergamot. Fetch us, if you have them--what youhave--in flowered brocades--all colours--violet, pink, Italian posies,rose, myrtle, jessamine, anything; a watered tabby would become you,Kitty; any painted lawns,--silks and satins would be almost too old foryou: do not forget the patches _a la grecque_--Kitty, be very carefulof the patches; gauzes, what you have, Mrs. Bergamot; we want morehoods, a feathered muff, stomacher, Paris nets, _eau de Chypre_ or _eaude luce_, whichever you have; ear-rings are no use to you, my poorchild. Pity that they did not pierce your ears: see the little dropsdangling at mine. At any rate, thank Heaven that we neither of us wantvermilion for the cheeks. Poor Peggy! she paints these two years andmore. Ruffs, Mrs. Bergamot, and tippets, cardinals, any pretty thing insarsnets, and what you have in purple. Kitty, purple is your colour.You shall have a dress all purple for the next ball. Ah! if I couldcarry purple! But you, Kitty, with your height and figure--stand up,child--why, she will be Juno herself!"

  "Truly," said the dressmaker, "as for Miss Pleydell, purple has comeinto fashion in pudding-time, as folk say."

  "A pretty woman," Nancy went on, examining me as if I had been a dummy,"not a pretty 'little thing' like me, is as rare in Epsom as a blackswan or a white blackbird, or green yellow-hammer, or a red blue tit."

  When the dressmaker was gone, and we were left alone, Nancy beganagain, out of her great experience, to talk of the place we were in.

  "My dear," she said, "before one's father one cannot say all that onewould wish"--could such wisdom be possible at seventeen-and-a-half?"This is a very shocking and wicked place; we used to be taught thatgirls ought to sit in a corner, after they had put on their bestthings, and wait to be spoken to, and not to think about attracting themen; and not, indeed, to think about the men at all, save in their ownroom, where they might perhaps pray that if there were any men in theworld not addicted to gambling, drinking, cursing, hunting, fighting,and striking, those men might be led by Heaven to cast eyes of loveupon them. Oh!"--here she held up her hands and shook her head justlike a woman four times her age, and steeped in experience--"in thisplace it is not long that the girls sit in a corner, and, indeed, I donot greatly love corners myself; but the very wives, the matrons, themarried women, my dear,"--her voice rose with each word till it hadmounted nearly to the top of the possible scale,--"are coquettes, whointerfere with the girls, and would have the gallants dangling at theirheels. As for their
husbands, they are the last persons consideredworthy of their notice; they put on their dresses and deck themselvesout to please anybody rather than the persons whom it should be theironly study to please."

  "Nancy," I whispered, "when you are married, will you never, neverdress to please anybody but your husband?"

  "Why," she replied, "my father, my mother, my children (if I have any),my friends will be pleased to see me go fine. But not for lovers--oh!"

  We agreed that would-be lovers should be received and properly dealtwith before marriage.

  "Bashfulness, here," continued the pretty moralist, "is--Heaven helpus!--lack of breeding; what goes down is defiance of manners andmodesty. Propriety is laughed at; noise is wit; laughter is repartee;most of the women gamble; nearly all are in debt; nobody reads anythingserious; and we backbite each other perpetually."

  I know not what had put her in so strange a mood for moralising.

  "However," she said, "now that you are come, we shall get on better.I have made up my mind that you are to be the Toast of the season. Ishall set you off, because you are brown and I am fair; you are tall,and I am short; you are grave, and I am merry; you are thoughtful,and I am silly; you have brown eyes, and I have blue. We will havenone but the best men about us; we will set such an example as willshame the hoydens of girls and tame the Mohocks among the men. MissLamb of Hackney, who thinks herself a beauty, will then be ashamedto jump about and scream at the Assembly with nothing over her skinnyshoulders. Peggy Baker shall have after her none but the married men(who are of no possible use except to spoil a girl's reputation),although she sighs and swims and sprawls with her eyes half shut.Do you know that she sat for her portrait to Zincke, at MaryleboneGardens, as Anne Boleyn, and was painted with eyelashes down to thecorners of her mouth?"

  "Nancy," I cried, "you are jealous of Miss Peggy Baker."

  She laughed, and talked of something else. From this I conjecturedthat Peggy had said or reported something which offended her. What hadreally been said, I learned afterwards, was that Nancy was runningafter Lord Eardesley, which was unkind as well as untrue.

  "Last year," she said, "after you went away, nothing would serve mymother but a visit to Bath. It is not so gay as Tunbridge Wells,because the company are mostly country folk, like ourselves, who standupon their dignity; but it is better than this place, where thereare so many London cits that it passes one's patience, sometimes, tosee their manners"--really, Nancy must have been seriously put out."However, I dare say Bath is as wicked as any of the watering towns,when you come to know it. I liked the bathing. What do you think,Kitty, of everybody promenading in the water up to their chins--thatis to say, the little people, like me, up to their noses (only I worepattens to make myself higher), and the tall men up to their shoulders,in hot water? Everybody frolicking, flirting, and chattering, whilejapanned trays float about covered with confectionery, tea, oils, andperfumes for the ladies; and when you go away, your chair is nothingbut a tub full of hot water, in which you are carried home. We stayedthere all July and August, though my mother would have kept me, if shecould, from the baths till I was bigger. Harry Temple was there, too,part of the time."

  "And how doth Harry?"

  "He is a good honest fellow," said Nancy, "though conceited and a prig;his mouth full of learned words, and his head full of books. He seemedto pine after your departure, Kitty, but soon recovered himself, andnow eats and drinks again as before. He found some congenial spiritsfrom Oxford at Bath, and they used to talk of Art, and pictures (whenany one was listening), and bronzes, and all sorts of things that wepoor people know nothing of."

  Then she told me how Harry had made a poem upon me, after my departure,which he turned into Latin, Greek, and Italian, and had given Nancy acopy. And how Will had christened one pup Kitty, and another Pleydell,and a third Kitty Pleydell, and was casting around how to give a fourthpuppy my name as well.

  It seemed so long ago that I had almost forgotten poor rustic Will,with his red face, his short sturdy figure, and his determination.

  "Dear Kitty," said Nancy, "if thou couldst take a fancy for ourWill--he is a brave lad, though dull of parts and slow of apprehension.As for Harry"--here she stopped, and blushed.

  I remembered my secret, and blushed as well (but for guilt and shame);while poor Nancy blushed in maiden modesty.

  "Dear Nancy," I replied, kissing her, "believe me, but I could nevermarry your brother Will. And as for Harry----"

  "As for Harry," she echoed, with downcast eyes.

  It was easy to read her secret, though she could not guess mine.

  "As for Harry," I said, "where could he be better bestowed than----"

  Here I kissed her again, and said no more, because between two womenwhat more need be said?

  Alas! I had quite forgotten--indeed, I never suspected--that I wasactually engaged to become the wife of both Harry and Will, who was atthis same time the wife of Lord Chudleigh. And both men were on theirway to Epsom to claim the promise.

 

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