Black Sheep

This was said with a radiant look, and was followed by a shyly ecstatic account of Fanny's first meeting with Mr Calverleigh, and a description of his manifold charms. Abby listened and commented suitably, but seized the first opportunity that offered of turning Fanny's thoughts into another channel. She directed her attention to the pile of dress-lengths she had procured in London, and bade her say if she liked them. This answered very well; and in going into raptures over a spidergauze, wondering whether to have a celestial-blue crape trimmed with ribbon or puff-muslin, and arguing with Abby over the respective merits of Circassian or Cottage sleeves for a morning-dress, Fanny temporarily forgot Mr Calverleigh, and went off to bed presently, to dream (Abby hoped) of fashions.

It seemed, on the following morning, as though she had done so, for she visited her aunt before Abby was out of bed, eager to show her several fashion-plates from the latest issue of the Ladies' Monthly Museum, and hopeful of coaxing her to sally forth before breakfast on a visit to the dressmaker on South Parade. In this she failed, Abby pointing out to her that her Aunt Selina, no early riser, would be very much hurt if excluded from the expedition. She added a reminder that in all matters of taste and fashion Selina was infallible.

Fanny pouted, but submitted, knowing the truth of this dictum. She might stigmatise many of Selina's notions as fusty, but no one had ever cast a slur on Selina's eye for the elegant and the becoming. In her youth she had been the least good-looking but the most modish of the Wendover girls; in her middle age, and endowed with an easy competence, she enjoyed the reputation of being the best-dressed woman in Bath. If Fanny did not, like Abby, seek her advice, she was shrewd enough to respect her judgment; so that when, presently, she showed Selina the sketch of a grossly overtrimmed walking-dress her secret longing to be seen abroad in this confection was nipped in the bud by Selina's devastating criticism. 'Oh, dear!' said Selina, wrinkling her nose in distaste. 'All those frills, and tucks, and ribbons – ! So – so deedy !'

So nothing more was seen of that fashion-plate, and in due course all three ladies set out in Miss Wendover's new barouche for South Parade, where Madame Lisette's elegant showrooms were situated.

Madame Lisette, who was born Eliza Mudford, enjoyed Royal Patronage, but although she was the particular protégée of the Princess Elizabeth, in whose service she had started her career, and rarely failed to receive orders from Bath's noblest and most fashionable visitors, the Misses Wendover ranked high amongst her favourite clients: they were rich, they were resident, and they set off to the greatest advantage the fruits of her genius. By no means all her customers were honoured by her personal attention, but no sooner had her head saleswoman caught sight of the barouche drawing up outside the door than she sent an apprentice scurrying upstairs to Madame's office with the news that the Misses Wendover – all the Misses Wendover! – were about to enter the shop. So, by the time the Misses Wendover had enquired kindly after Miss Snisby's health, and their footman had delivered into the care of an underling the package containing the silks, and the gauzes, and the muslins purchased in London by Miss Abigail, Miss Mudford had arrived on the scene, suitably but exquisitely gowned in a robe of rich silk but sober hue, and combining with the ease of an expert the deference due to ladies of quality with the chartered familiarities of an old and trusted retainer. No less skill did she show in convincing the youngest Miss Wendover that the style of dress, proper for a young matron, for which that damsel yearned, would not make her look dashing, but on the contrary, positively dowdy. Such was her tact that Fanny emerged from the salon an hour later with the comfortable persuasion that so far from having been treated like a schoolroom miss her taste had been approved, and that the resultant creations would set her in the highest kick of fashion.

This satisfactory session being at an end, the ladies betook themselves to the Pump Room, where it was Selina's custom (unless the weather were inclement, or some more agreeable diversion offered itself ) to imbibe, in small, distasteful sips, a glass of the celebrated waters. Here they encountered a number of friends and acquaintances, prominent amongst whom were General Exford, one of Abby's more elderly admirers, and Mrs Grayshott, with her daughter, Lavinia, who was Fanny's chief crony. The two girls soon had their heads together; and while Abby gracefully countered the General's gallantries Selina, who was sometimes felt to take more interest in the affairs of strangers than in those of her family, engaged Mrs Grayshott in earnest conversation, the object of her sympathetic enquiries being to discover whether Mrs Grayshott had received any news of her only son, last heard of in Calcutta, but living in daily expectation of embarking on the long journey home to England. The look of anxiety on Mrs Grayshott's rather careworn face deepened as she shook her head, and replied, with a resolute smile: 'Not yet. But my brother has assured me that he has made every imaginable arrangement for his comfort, and I'm persuaded it can't be long now before he will be with me again. My brother has been so good! Had it been possible, I really believe he would have sent his own doctor out to Oliver! He blames himself for that dreadful sickness, you know, but that is nonsensical. Oliver was very willing to go to India, and how, I ask him, could he have foreseen that the poor boy's constitution was so ill-suited to the climate? I did not, for he has always enjoyed excellent health.'

'Ah!' said Selina mournfully. 'If only it may not have been ruined by this sad misfortune!'

Her tone held out no hope for the future; and as she went on to recount the dismal story of the sufferings endured by just such another case – not personally known to her, but he was a cousin of one of her acquaintances, or, if not a cousin, a great friend, not that it signified – Mrs Grayshott could only be thankful that the arrival of Miss Butterbank on the scene interrupted the disheartening recital before it had reached its death-bed climax. She was able to escape, and lost no time in doing so. Perceiving that the younger Miss Wendover had just shaken off her elderly admirer, she went to join her, forestalling a gentleman in a blue coat and Angola pantaloons, who was bearing purposefully down upon her. Aware of this, she laughingly begged Abigail's pardon, adding: 'I only wish you cared, Abby!'

'I do, and would liefer by far talk to you, ma'am, than to Mr Dunston! How do you do? Not in very good point, I'm afraid – but don't doubt you will assure me that you're in high force! This is an anxious time for you.'

'Yes, but I know that if – if anything had happened – anything bad – I must have had news of it, so I won't let myself fall into dejection, or post up to London, until my brother sends me word. When that happens, I shall cast Lavinia on your hands, and be off. I was so very much obliged to Miss Wendover for offering to take charge of her! But it is you who will do that: you don't object?'

'My dear ma'am, how can you ask? I am naturally cast into the greatest agitation by the very thought of having so onerous a burden thrust upon me! It is only civility that prompts me to say that I shall be charmed to take care of Lavinia.'

Mrs Grayshott smiled, and pressed her hand. 'I knew I might depend on you. I don't think she will be a trouble to you. What I do think – Abby, may I speak frankly to you?'

'If you please! Though I fancy I know what it is that you do think. Fanny?'

Mrs Grayshott nodded. 'You know, then? I'm glad you've come home: I have been feeling a little anxious. Your sister is a dear kind creature, but –'

She hesitated, and Abby said coolly: 'Very true! A dear kind nodcock! She seems to have fallen quite under the spell of this Calverleigh.'

'Well, he – he is very engaging,' said Mrs Grayshott reluctantly. 'Only there is something about him which I can't quite like! It is difficult to explain, because I haven't any cause to take him in dislike. Except –' Again she hesitated, but upon being urged to continue, said: 'Abby, no man could be blamed for falling in love with Fanny, but I don't think that a man of principle, so much older than she is, would wish her – far less urge her! – to do what might easily set people in a bustle. His attentions are too particular to suit my old-fashioned notions. That makes me into a Bath quiz, I dare say, but you know, my dear, when a man of fashion and address makes a child of Fanny's age the object of his attentions it is not to be wondered at that she should be dazzled into losing her head, or be easily brought to believe that the rules of conduct, in which she has been reared, are outmoded – quite provincial, in fact!'

Abby nodded. 'Such as the impropriety of strolling about the Sydney Gardens with him? Give me a round tale, ma'am! – Have there been other – oh, clandestine meetings?'

'I am afraid so. Oh, nothing of a serious nature, or that is generally known, or – or that you will not speedily put an end to! I might not have spoken to you, if that had been all, for it's no bread-and-butter of mine, and I don't relish the office of being your intelligencer, but I have some reason to think that it is not quite all, and am a great deal too fond of Fanny not to tell you that certain things I have learned from what Lavinia – in all innocence! – has let fall, I apprehend that this unfortunate affair may be rather more serious than I had at first supposed. To what extent Lavinia is in Fanny's confidence I don't know, and – I must confess – shrink from enquiring, because perhaps, if she thought I was trying to discover a secret reposed in her, she would fob me off, even prevaricate, and certainly, in the future, guard her tongue when she talked to me. That may seem foolish to you: the thing is she has been so close a companion to me, so open and trusting in her affection –' Her voice became suspended. She shook her head, saying, after a moment's struggle: 'I can't explain it to you!'

'There is not the least need,' Abby responded. 'I understand you perfectly, ma'am. Don't fear me! I promise you I shan't let Fanny so much as suspect that Lavinia betrayed her confidence. Let me be frank with you! I've every reason to suppose that Calverleigh is a fortune-hunter, and it has been made abundantly clear to me that Fanny believes herself to have formed a lasting passion for him. I don't know if Calverleigh hopes to win my brother's consent to the match, but I should very much doubt it. So in what sort is the wind? Does he hope to enlist my support? Is he indulging himself with a flirtation? Or has he the intention of eloping with Fanny?' Her eyes widened, as she saw the quick look turned towards her, and a laugh trembled in her throat. 'My dear ma'am – ! I was only funning!'

'Yes, I know, but – Abby, sometimes I wonder if our parents were right when they forbade us to read novels! It is all the fault of the Circulating Libraries!'

'Putting romantical notions into girls' heads?' said Abby, smiling a little. 'I don't think so: I had a great many myself, and was never permitted to read any but the most improving works. I might be wrong, but I fancy that however much a girl may admire, or envy, the heroine of some romance, who finds herself in the most extraordinary situations; and however much she may picture herself in those situations, she knows it is nothing more than a child's game of make-believe, and that she would not, in fact, behave at all like her heroine. Like my sister's children, when they capture me in the shrubbery, and inform me that they are brigands, and mean to hold me to ransom!'

Her smile was reflected in Mrs Grayshott's eyes, but she sighed, and said: 'It may be so – I don't know! But when a girl falls in love, and with – oh, with what they call a man of the town! – who is practised in the art of seduction – ?'

'Well, I don't know either,' said Abby, 'but it occurs to me, ma'am, that your man of the town, assuming him to be in search of a fortune, would scarcely choose a girl four years short of her majority! Indeed, eight years short of it, because Fanny will not come into full possession of her inheritance until she is five-andtwenty. I'm not very well-informed in such matters, but would not that be rather too long to – to live on the expectation?'

'Is he aware of this?' Mrs Grayshott asked. 'Does Fanny know it?'

Abby's eyes, swiftly raised, held an arrested expression. She said, after a moment's pause: 'No. That is, the question has never arisen. I don't know, but I should suppose she doesn't. I see that it must be my business to enlighten Calverleigh – if it should be necessary to do so. Meanwhile, –'

'Meanwhile,' said Mrs Grayshott, with a significant smile, 'Mr Dunston is advancing towards us, determined to wrest you from me, and so I shall take my leave of you! Don't think me impertinent if I say how much I wish I could see you happily established, Abby!'

She moved away as she spoke, leaving the road open to the gentleman in the blue coat and Angola pantaloons, who came up, saying simply: 'You have come back at last! Bath has been a desert without you.'

She turned this off with a laughing rejoinder; and, after enquiring politely how his mother did, and exchanging a little trivial conversation with him, said mendaciously that she saw her sister beckoning to her, and left him.

Miss Wendover, who had observed with satisfaction the presence of Mr Dunston in the Pump Room, sighed. Like Mrs Grayshott, she wished very much to see Abby happily established, and could think of no one who would make her a better husband than Peter Dunston. He was a very respectable man, the owner of a comfortable property situated not many miles from Bath; his manners were easy and agreeable; and Miss Wendover had it on the authority of his widowed mother, who resided with him, that his amiability was only rivalled by the elegance of his mind, and the superiority of his understanding. Such was the excellence of his character that he had never caused his mother to suffer a moment's anxiety. One might have supposed that Abby, in imminent danger of dwindling into an old maid, would have welcomed the addresses of so eligible a suitor, instead of declaring she had never been able to

feel the least tendre for men of uniform virtues.