Cotillion

Six

Since Miss Charing’s wardrobe was not extensive, the task of packing it was speedily accomplished, and it was not long after noon when the betrothed pair set forward upon the journey to London. Miss Charing’s almost dizzy delight at having so easily won her guardian’s consent to the visit was marred only by her fear that her hostess might not feel an equal degree of pleasure at the treat in store; and by the lachrymose conduct of Miss Fishguard, who wept without restraint while she helped her charge to pack, and asserted that she did not know what was to become of her, or how she was to look after Mr Penicuik to his satisfaction. It did not console her to be reminded that no one had ever succeeded in doing this; and the prospect of being separated from Kitty for a month so wrought upon her sensibility that she suddenly declaimed, between sobs: ‘“For all that pleased in wood or lawn, While peace possessed these silent bowers, Her animating smile withdrawn, Has lost its beauty and its powers!”’

Kitty, always of a more practical turn of mind than her governess, wrinkled her brow at this, and said: ‘Well, but it is so horridly damp and cold at this season that the woods and lawns don’t please at all, Fish! And peace cannot possess Arnside when Uncle Matthew’s gout is so painful!’

‘Sometimes, Kitty,’ said Miss Fishguard tragically, ‘I wonder at you! Is “the pang which parts us from our weeping friends” unknown to you?’

This reproach made Kitty feel so guilty that for the first stage of the journey her spirits were subdued, and she replied in monosyllables to such remarks as her companion addressed to her.

‘Not feeling quite the thing?’ enquired Freddy kindly.

‘Oh, yes, but I feel a wretch, Freddy!’ she confided. ‘Poor Fish asked me if I did not feel a pang at parting from her, and I do not!’

‘I should rather think you wouldn’t!’ said Freddy, without hesitation. ‘Can’t make the woman out at all, myself. Know what she said to me this morning? Asked me if I’d slept well, and when I told her that it beat me how anyone could sleep at all, with a dashed lot of cockerels crowing their heads off, she said that rural sounds exhilarate the spirit, and do something or other to languid nature!’

‘Cowper,’ said Kitty, in a depressed tone. ‘“Restore the tone of languid nature.”’

‘Well, it’s a bag of moonshine!’ said Freddy. ‘What’s more, I always thought so! Often hear of fellows ruralizing—going into the country on a repairing lease, y’know—but I never could see that it did ’em a particle of good. Well, if they’re kept awake the better part of the night by a lot of cockerels, stands to reason it couldn’t! It’s my belief, Kit, the woman’s touched in her upper works.’

‘No, she is merely addicted to poetry,’ explained Kitty.

‘Well, that just shows you!’ said Mr Standen reasonably. He abandoned the topic for one of more immediate importance. ‘How much did the old hunks give you in that roll?’

‘Oh, Freddy!’ exclaimed Kitty, awed. ‘Two hundred and fifty pounds! I am sure I can never spend the half of it! It is the greatest anxiety to me! I have it safe here in my reticule, but only think if I should chance to be robbed!’ She untied the strings of this receptacle, and dragged out the roll. ‘Pray, will you take care of it for me?’ she begged.

Mr Standen was just about to decline the office when a deep and cunning thought entered his head. Having a very nice idea of the cost of feminine apparel, it did not seem to him that two hundred and fifty pounds would suffice to clothe a lady about to make her début in the first circle of fashion. He was a good-natured as well as an affluent young gentleman, and he now conceived a scheme whereby Miss Charing might be imposed upon entirely for her own benefit. Detaching a fifty pound bill from the roll, he handed it to Kitty, saying: ‘That’s the dandy! You keep this one, and I’ll give the rest to m’mother. Have all the bills sent to her, and she’ll stand huff.’

Except for a slight feeling of alarm at carrying as much as fifty pounds in her reticule, Miss Charing had no fault to find with this arrangement, so Mr Standen stowed the roll away in his pocket, and ventured to speak of a matter which had been considerably exercising his mind. ‘No wish to pry into what don’t concern me,’ he said apologetically, ‘but can’t help wondering—Thing is, Kit, I’m dashed if I see what your lay is!’

‘My lay?’ repeated Kitty, glancing sideways at him.

He blushed, and begged pardon. ‘Talking flash!’ he explained. ‘Forgot myself! What I mean is, good notion to come to town for a spell! I’m not saying it ain’t. Only thing is, what’s to come of it?’

Miss Charing, having foreseen this question, replied: ‘One should always seize opportunity, you know. I am persuaded that once I am in London I may easily discover an eligible situation. Or I might, if I had pretty gowns, and Lady Legerwood is so obliging as to introduce me to her acquaintance, even receive an offer of marriage.’

‘No, dash it!’ protested Mr Standen. ‘Not if you’re engaged to me, Kit!’

She became intent on smoothing the wrinkles from her gloves. Her colour considerably heightened, she said: ‘No. Only—If there did happen to be some gentleman who—who wished to marry me, do you think he would be deterred by that, Freddy?’

‘Be a curst rum touch if he wasn’t,’ replied Freddy unequivocally.

‘Yes, but—If he had a partiality for me, and found I had become engaged to Another,’ said Kitty, drawing on a knowledge of life culled from the pages of such novels as graced Miss Fishguard’s bookshelf, ‘he might be wrought upon by jealousy.’

‘Who?’ demanded Freddy, out of his depth.

‘Anyone!’ said Kitty.

‘But there ain’t anyone!’ argued Freddy.

‘No,’ agreed Kitty, damped. ‘It was just a passing thought, and not of the least consequence! I shall seek a situation.’

‘No, you won’t,’ said Freddy, with unexpected firmness. ‘That’s what you said last night. Talked a lot of stuff about becoming a chambermaid. Well, you can’t, that’s all.’

‘Oh, no!’ she assured him. ‘Upon reflection, of course I perceived that that wouldn’t answer. And also I shouldn’t wonder at it if Hugh was quite at fault, and I might do very well as a governess. To quite young children, you know, who don’t need instruction in Italian or Water-colour painting.’

‘Can’t do that either,’ said Freddy.

‘Well, really, Freddy!’ cried Miss Charing indignantly. ‘Pray, what concern is it of yours?’