his wet coat, whose muddy boots have left trails on the horsehair or chintz of the sofa; whose Macassar oil may be traced on the carpet in great patches of grease, and who daringly infringes the rules by introducing a dog, whose dirty paw-marks figure on the stair-carpeting and the paint of the doors, which are defaced by his scratching for admittance.
Nor must the irascible lodger be forgotten, the loud peal of whose bell causes such commotion in the household. The landlady soon tires of being summoned to hear furious tirades upon trifles. The housemaid breaks down under the infliction, and gives notice; and the cook, in the depths of her own particular region, styles him an old brute, and other expletives which would add fuel to the fire of his wrath, if he heard them; which, fortunately for the comfort of all the parties, he does not.
It was after the departure of one of the latter, a Welsh Squire, with a maiden sister, as touchy and hard to please as himself, that my mother and the maid were busily employed in restoring the vacated apartments to order; and I, a delicate girl of ten, at home from school, on account of my health, was sitting alone in the front parlour to listen for knocks at the door, and answer them whenever I thought it was not necessary to summon my mother. Absorbed in a first perusal of “A Midsummer Nights’ Dream,” the scrubbing and thumping over head passed unheeded till a gentle rat-tat-tat compelled me to lay down my book and reconnoitre from the window.
The card, with “Apartments Furnished” neatly designed on it, already decorated the centre pane, my mother wisely observing that it was never too soon to make our wants known; but the advent of a fresh occupant not being expected so readily, and my observation detecting the flowing skirts of a silk dress, I saw and answered the summons myself.
Standing on the steps, eagerly scanning the appearance of the house, was a lady whose air and attire was unmistakeably foreign. Her age was about two or three and twenty, and her beautiful hair was drawn back from her delicate features in a style now familiar enough; but then, pleasantly at variance with the stiffly frizzed curls and bows of our own countrywomen.
My bashful admiration must have been apparent as I asked her to come in, for smiling faintly but sweetly, she stooped and kissed my forehead; and, while waiting the appearance of my mother who had to arrange herself, she inquired about my studies, and chatted on such topics as were likely to prove interesting to a child. I was absorbed in a translation from Uhland, which she was reciting in her pure though strangely pronounced English, when the entrance of my mother made the current of her ideas flow back to the every day affairs which had brought her to our house; and much to my disappointment, the wild rhyme was left unfinished.
We now learned that the young lady had just landed from a Hamburgh packet, and had been recommended by her solicitor (who knew us) to seek with us the accommodation requisite for herself, infant, and bonne; also—and here her voice trembled a little—for her husband who was an invalid, and his attendant. While my mother pondered over the possibility of sparing so many apartments, and debated upon the unpleasant necessity she should be at of putting up a French bedstead in the dressing-room for the gentleman’s man-servant, if he really must be within call, I watched her impatiently, and the lady seemed as anxious as myself.
“She was a stranger,” she said, “had only been in England once before,” and then a sob interrupted her. “If madame could let her have the apartments she would so cheerfully recompense her for these inconveniences. She was frightened at having to seek farther, and her poor Frank”—again her lip quivered—“was so ill able to contend with the annoyances of a public hotel. Would madame—could she?”
Her imploring words and looks were seconded by my entreating whispers, and madame ma mere not only made her affirmative curtsey, but was even won to promise that the necessary arrangements should be made immediately, and everything be in readiness for the reception of the travellers that same evening. With grateful acknowledgments the lady bade us farewell, the smile, I thought so sweet, returning to her pretty mouth as she embraced me.
There was a world of business to be accomplished before night, and Shakspeare had to be thrown aside; for even my hands were called into requisition, as carpets taken up hastily were relaid with greater dispatch, curtains restored to their rods, pictures regauzed, the marks of the Squire’s nightly potations polished off the tables, and all the rest of the thousand and one little preparations made which were—or my mother said they were—indispensable. Soon after dark a fly, heavily laden with luggage, stopped at the door, and the lady herself emerged with a fat, rosy baby boy in her arms, who became our charge while the invalid gentleman was assisted to his chamber. Busied in unfastening the numerous wraps of the child and coaxing him into good humour, my mother sat by the fire with little of the curiosity which made me linger to have a peep at the sick man, who, by the light of the street lamp close by, I saw was a tall, handsome English gentleman of military appearance, and whose only traces of illness were the evident anxiety of his young wife, and the care with which the man-servant adjusted the large cloak in which he was muffled. He stood on the threshold for a moment in apparent indecision; but on the lady addressing a few words to him in low tones, he proceeded to cross the hall, and ascended the stairs with a rapidity so incompatible with the usually feeble movements of one in pain, that I wonderingly commented on it to my mother. She, good soul, engrossed with the laughing little one on her knee, took no heed of my remark, beyond reminding me that many sufferers from internal disease, wore an appearance of health and strength, deceiving to casual observers.
In a few minutes the lady, who I have neglected to mention had introduced herself as Mrs. Captain