A Fair Barbarian

by Frances Hodgson Burnett

  Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Mary Meehan and PGDistributed Proofreaders

  A FAIR BARBARIAN

  BY FRANCES HODGSON BURNETT

  1881

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER

  I. MISS OCTAVIA BASSETT

  II. "AN INVESTMENT, ANYWAY"

  III. L'ARGENTVILLE

  IV. LADY THEOBALD

  V. LUCIA

  VI. ACCIDENTAL

  VII. "I SHOULD LIKE TO SEE MORE OF SLOWBRIDGE"

  VIII. SHARES LOOKING UP

  IX. WHITE MUSLIN

  X. ANNOUNCING MR. BAROLD

  XI. A SLIGHT INDISCRETION

  XII. AN INVITATION

  XIII. INTENTIONS

  XIV. A CLERICAL VISIT

  XV. SUPERIOR ADVANTAGES

  XVI. CROQUET

  XVII. ADVANTAGES

  XVIII. CONTRAST

  XIX. AN EXPERIMENT

  XX. PECULIAR TO NEVADA

  XXI. LORD LANSDOWNE

  XXII. "YOU HAVE MADE IT LIVELIER"

  XXIII. "MAY I GO?"

  XXIV. THE GARDEN PARTY

  XXV. "SOMEBODY ELSE"

  XXVI. "JACK"

  A FAIR BARBARIAN.

  CHAPTER I.

  MISS OCTAVIA BASSETT.

  Slowbridge had been shaken to its foundations.

  It may as well be explained, however, at the outset, that it would nottake much of a sensation to give Slowbridge a great shock. In the firstplace, Slowbridge was not used to sensations, and was used to going onthe even and respectable tenor of its way, regarding the outside worldwith private distrust, if not with open disfavor. The new mills had beena trial to Slowbridge,--a sore trial. On being told of the owners' planof building them, old Lady Theobald, who was the corner-stone of thesocial edifice of Slowbridge, was said, by a spectator, to have turneddeathly pale with rage; and, on the first day of their being opened inworking order, she had taken to her bed, and remained shut up in herdarkened room for a week, refusing to see anybody, and even going so faras to send a scathing message to the curate of St. James, who called infear and trembling, because he was afraid to stay away.

  "With mills and mill-hands," her ladyship announced to Mr. Laurence, themill-owner, when chance first threw them together, "with mills andmill-hands come murder, massacre, and mob law." And she said it so loud,and with so stern an air of conviction, that the two Misses Briarton, whowere of a timorous and fearful nature, dropped their buttered muffins (itwas at one of the tea-parties which were Slowbridge's only dissipation),and shuddered hysterically, feeling that their fate was sealed, and thatthey might, any night, find three masculine mill-hands secreted undertheir beds, with bludgeons. But as no massacres took place, and themill-hands were pretty regular in their habits, and even went so far asto send their children to Lady Theobald's free school, and accepted thetracts left weekly at their doors, whether they could read or not,Slowbridge gradually recovered from the shock of finding itself forced toexist in close proximity to mills, and was just settling itself tosleep--the sleep of the just--again, when, as I have said, it was shakento its foundations.

  It was Miss Belinda Bassett who received the first shock. Miss BelindaBassett was a decorous little maiden lady, who lived in a decorous littlehouse on High Street (which was considered a very genteel street inSlowbridge). She had lived in the same house all her life, her father hadlived in it, and so also had her grandfather. She had gone out, to taketea, from its doors two or three times a week, ever since she had beentwenty; and she had had her little tea-parties in its front parlor asoften as any other genteel Slowbridge entertainer. She had risen atseven, breakfasted at eight, dined at two, taken tea at five, and gone tobed at ten, with such regularity for fifty years, that to rise at eight,breakfast at nine, dine at three, and take tea at six, and go to bed ateleven, would, she was firmly convinced, be but "to fly in the face ofProvidence," as she put it, and sign her own death-warrant. Consequently,it is easy to imagine what a tremor and excitement seized her when, oneafternoon, as she sat waiting for her tea, a coach from the Blue Liondashed--or, at least, _almost_ dashed--up to the front door, a young ladygot out, and the next minute the handmaiden, Mary Anne, threw open thedoor of the parlor, announcing, without the least preface,--

  "Your niece, mum, from 'Meriker."

  Miss Belinda got up, feeling that her knees really trembled beneath her.

  In Slowbridge, America was not approved of--in fact, was almost entirelyignored, as a country where, to quote Lady Theobald, "the laws wereloose, and the prevailing sentiments revolutionary." It was notconsidered good taste to know Americans,--which was not unfortunate, asthere were none to know; and Miss Belinda Bassett had always felt adelicacy in mentioning her only brother, who had emigrated to the UnitedStates in his youth, having first disgraced himself by the utterance ofthe blasphemous remark that "he wanted to get to a place where a fellowcould stretch himself, and not be bullied by a lot of old tabbies." Fromthe day of his departure, when he had left Miss Belinda bathed in tearsof anguish, she had heard nothing of him; and here upon the thresholdstood Mary Anne, with delighted eagerness in her countenance,repeating,--

  "Your niece, mum, from 'Meriker!"

  And, with the words, her niece entered.

  Miss Belinda put her hand to her heart.

  The young lady thus announced was the prettiest, and at the same time themost extraordinary-looking, young lady she had ever seen in her life.Slowbridge contained nothing approaching this niece. Her dress was sovery stylish that it was quite startling in its effect; her forehead wascovered down to her large, pretty eyes themselves, with curls ofyellow-brown hair; and her slender throat was swathed round and roundwith a grand scarf of black lace.

  She made a step forward, and then stopped, looking at Miss Belinda. Hereyes suddenly, to Miss Belinda's amazement, filled with tears.

  "Didn't you," she said,--"oh, dear! _Didn't_ you get the letter?"

  "The--the letter!" faltered Miss Belinda. "What letter, my--my dear?"

  "Pa's," was the answer. "Oh! I see you didn't."

  And she sank into the nearest chair, putting her hands up to her face,and beginning to cry outright.

  "I--am Octavia B-bassett," she said. "We were coming to surp-prise you,and travel in Europe; but the mines went wrong, and p-pa was obliged togo back to Nevada."

  "The mines?" gasped Miss Belinda.

  "S-silver-mines," wept Octavia. "And we had scarcely landed when Pipercabled, and pa had to turn back. It was something about shares, and hemay have lost his last dollar."

  Miss Belinda sank into a chair herself.

  "Mary Anne," she said faintly, "bring me a glass of water."

  Her tone was such that Octavia removed her handkerchief from her eyes,and sat up to examine her.

  "Are you frightened?" she asked, in some alarm.

  Miss Belinda took a sip of the water brought by her handmaiden, replacedthe glass upon the salver, and shook her head deprecatingly.

  "Not exactly frightened, my dear," she said, "but so amazed that I findit difficult to--to collect myself."

  Octavia put up her handkerchief again to wipe away a sudden new gush oftears.

  "If shares intended to go down," she said, "I don't see why they couldn'tgo down before we started, instead of waiting until we got over here, andthen spoiling every thing."

  "Providence, my dear"--began Miss Belinda.

  But she was interrupted by the re-entrance of Mary Anne.

  "The man from the Lion, mum, wants to know what's to be done with thetrunks. There's six of 'em, an' they're all that 'eavy as he says hewouldn't
lift one alone for ten shilling."

  "Six!" exclaimed Miss Belinda. "Whose are they?"

  "Mine," replied Octavia. "Wait a minute. I'll go out to him."

  Miss Belinda was astounded afresh by the alacrity with which her nieceseemed to forget her troubles, and rise to the occasion. The girl ran tothe front door as if she was quite used to directing her own affairs, andbegan to issue her orders.

  "You will have to get another man," she said. "You might have known that.Go and get one somewhere."

  And when the man went off, grumbling a little, and evidently rather at aloss before such peremptory coolness, she turned to Miss Belinda.

  "Where must he put them?" she asked.

  It did not seem to have occurred to her once that her identity might bedoubted, and some slight obstacles arise before her.

  "I am afraid," faltered Miss Belinda, "that five of them will have to beput in the attic."

  And in fifteen minutes five of them _were_ put into the attic, and thesixth--the biggest of all--stood in the trim little spare chamber, andpretty Miss Octavia had sunk into a puffy little chintz-coveredeasy-chair, while her newly found relative stood before her, making themost laudable efforts to recover her equilibrium, and not to feel as ifher head were spinning round and round.