A NEW WORLD
After a tedious journey, such as travellers had to undergo at the
beginning of the century, whether they journeyed by coach, or by
private carriage with post horses, Mrs. Jose and Winefred arrived at
Bath. Mrs. Jose sought quarters for herself in a modest tavern, as she
could not, dared not thrust herself on her grand relations. Moreover,
before formally visiting their house, she had to change her gown, wash
off the soil of travel, and give fresh curl to her hair.
When all these preparations were accomplished, she conducted Winefred
to the Tomkin-Jones residence, a corner house of a square. The door
opened into a narrow street, and the house had but a single window on
each story that looked into the square. Nevertheless it was numbered,
and esteemed itself as belonging to the square, and not to the street.
Before Winefred Mrs. Jose endeavoured to disguise her nervousness,
but the attempt was futile, her excitation was perceptible at every
point. A more than ordinary carnation mantled her healthy cheeks, her
broad bosom heaved tumultuously, the movements of hand and head were
spasmodic, and she showered advice as to comportment on the girl at her
side, in the distraction of her mind repeating the same items a score
of times.
As the door was approached, 'My dear,' whispered the farmer's wife,
'how do I look? Is my bonnet straight? Just see that my flounce is not
curled up behind.'
On the doorstep Mrs. Jose stood in perturbation, unable to decide which
was the correct proceeding, to knock or to ring, or to knock and ring,
or even to ring and knock.
She was relieved of her embarrassment by the door opening without her
having summoned the attendant, and by the maid appearing with letters
in her hand for the post.
Mrs. Jose now announced herself, and informed the domestic that she
believed she was expected, and inquired whether Mrs. Tomkin-Jones and
the young ladies were at home.
The servant postponed the commission with the letters, and led the
way to the drawing-room on the first floor, up a narrow and steep
staircase. Mrs. Jose followed, treading lightly as if dancing among
eggs, and Winefred mounted after her.
They were shown into the drawing-room, an apartment that had a window
into the square, and smelt of carpet cleaned with ox-gall.
The paper was drab, with bunches of flowers on it; and the curtains
were of a heavy green, and looked as if they had been dyed. They were
protected against the sun by a second set of curtains of muslin.
The chairs and sofa were encased in chintz tied about the legs; and
the looking-glass frame above the mantelshelf was enveloped in yellow
gauze. At each end of the shelf stood a candlestick of brass hung with
cut-glass prisms, some chipped, one missing. Next to these, on the
inside, were two vases filled with spills of twisted coloured paper;
and in the middle was a French ormolu clock, under a glass shade, that
did not go, and was surmounted by cast figures representing the Flight
into Egypt.
The circular rosewood table that occupied the centre of the room had
on it a posy of shell-flowers under a glass bell; and mats of coloured
wool and steel beads――these latter somewhat rusted――were dispersed
over the table to receive nothing in particular. A few books radiated
from the bunch of shell flowers, selected to lie on the table, not on
account of their contents, but because of the gilding on their covers.
The chairs in the room also radiated from the posy at set intervals.
The fire was laid, but not lighted. The fire-irons were highly
polished, but apparently never used. In a dark nook lurked a meagre
little poker of black iron that was employed when the fire was alight
and needed stirring. The blinds were drawn when Mrs. Jose and Winefred
entered, but the maid drew them up partially, not wholly, lest too much
light should enter and take some of the dye out of the dismal curtains.
The carpet, recently relaid after cleaning, represented sprays of
seaweed floating on the surface of the bottle-green deep among sprigs
of coral forming rococo octagons.
Mrs. Jose seated herself timorously at the edge of a chair, and looked
around her with an expression of mingled awe and pride.
Presently she pointed at the shell flowers, and said with bated breath,
'Wonderful, are they not? That I call a real work of art. Must have
cost pounds. Just fancy, all shells, not real flowers. Tell me, dear,
do I look very hot?' Satisfied that she was not overheated, Mrs. Jose's
eyes rambled about the room, then fell on the floor.
'My dear, never before have I seen the carpet without a drugget
over it. Wonderful, is it not? It really makes one feel as if one
must either dislocate one's ankle or plunge knee-deep in the ocean
walking over it. That is high art. Is the bow under my chin pulled out
properly? Hush! I hear them coming.'
The heightened colour left her cheek.
But no――none arrived. It comported with the dignity of the family
not to exhibit over cordiality in the reception of a relative of an
inferior social stage.
'My dear!' in a whisper, 'when Mrs. Tomkin-Jones comes, if she
graciously speaks to you, answer with a ma'am just once, or perhaps
twice. Not too many ma'ams, or she will think you have been in a shop.
You understand?'
The house, opening into the street, but pretending to belong to the
square, was perhaps typical of the Tomkin-Jones family. That family
affected to belong to a social order above that to which it actually
pertained. But in this it was not peculiar. With few exceptions most
people aim at appearing, socially or morally, what they are not. And
it is well that they should do so, for it is precisely this straining
upward after something higher which is the motive principle of
civilisation. Through ten thousand ages the negro never felt this, and
therefore remained where he was when first planted in Africa.
There are insects that assume the appearance of leaves, or twigs among
which they feed, there are birds that adopt the colouring of the soil
on which they cower, but with men capable of cultural advance it is
just the opposite; and it is precisely this aiming at something above
and other than their surroundings that differentiates them from the
beasts. There are exceptions. One has heard of a nobleman who studied
to look like, and talk like, and think like one of his grooms; but
this is a sport on the race, such as ought not to be in a civilised
world at all. But it is precisely because the tradesman seeks to look
like, live like, think like, and behave like the gentleman, that
the entire middle class has risen to the same cultural level that
was attained by the highest class a generation or two ago. And this
mighty and magnificent upheaval in mind and manner will continue to
manifest itself so long as those who stand at the apex of civilisation
maintain their high qualities of breeding, courtesy, refinement,
and self-respect. Presently Mrs. Jose caught her breath, flashed a
frightened glance at Winefred, rose from her chair, surveyed her face
in the mirror, sat down again, and looked eagerly at the door. The
handle turned, the door opened, and in rustled Mrs. Tomkin-Jones,
stiff, stately, cold. Mrs. Jose rose and bowed profoundly. Winefred
also stood up. The reverence that possessed the farmer's wife had
infected the girl. She looked inquisitively and respectfully at the
lady.
Mrs. Tomkin-Jones was tall, wore a 'front' of chestnut with little
curls ranged on each side of her brow over the temples, and a lace cap
that concealed the junction of the old and real with the new and false.
Here again was an instance of that unreality illustrating the upward
strain of humanity which aspires to perpetual youth, and resents and
disguises the ravages of decay, because it possesses within it the
instinct of eternal bloom. Mrs. Tomkin-Jones bent her head and extended
a hand in reply to Mrs. Jose's salutation, with condescension in her
manner, but so as to convey an unmistakable hint that no familiarity
would be allowed.
'I hope, Mrs. Jose, that you enjoy your health as usual?'
'Thank you kindly, ma'am, middling.'
'And Mr. Jose also enjoys rude health, as usual?'
'Pretty well for the time of year. But he's always took in his kidneys.'
'We will waive details. And this dear child you wish me to receive
temporarily under my protection. An engaging face,' said Mrs. Jones,
putting up the gold-framed eyeglasses. 'But the arrangement of the hair
might be improved, and the complexion is too weather-tanned, and,'
raking her from head to foot, 'the dress leaves much to be desired. Her
name, I think you told me, was――――'
'Miss Holwood.'
'Any relation to the Holwoods of Lambton? The late Hon. Mrs. Holwood
was, as you may――as, of course, you do not know――was a daughter of
Viscount Finnborough. A family――that of Finnborough――of affluence, but
what is better, of antiquity and distinction.'
Neither Mrs. Jose nor Winefred could answer this question.
'I hope,' said Mrs. Tomkin-Jones, after a pause, 'I hope you have not
felt cold. We do not usually put a light to the fire till the afternoon
when we expect visitors. Perhaps you will do me the favour of coming
into the dining-room, in which we ordinarily sit――at all events of a
morning. The room is more cheerful, and the young ladies are there.
I myself feel shivery in this reception room, and am obliged to be
careful about my health. My dear doctor laid it on me to avoid sitting
in cold rooms, specially at this time of year. You will, I know, oblige
me. You will be pleased, Miss Holwood, to make the acquaintance of my
daughters, and they are ardent in their desire to make yours.'
She rose.
'Excuse me if I lead the way. The staircase is objectionably
narrow, two can hardly descend together, which is an inconvenience
at dinner-parties, but since my bereavement, since the irrevocable
loss I have endured, I have not had the spirits to entertain. My
daughters, no doubt, would prefer a more distinguished and ampler
residence, and perhaps――but this serves temporarily, temporarily you
understand――though I believe the doctor, had he lived, would not have
sanctioned it. We have a position, you comprehend, that ought to be
kept up. Allow me――this is the door.'
She threw it open, and a blast of colour smote in the faces of those
entering.
The dining-room had a red flock paper on the walls, and dull
crimson-red curtains at the window. The Turkey carpet was covered with
red drugget. The furniture was of cumbrous mahogany and leather. On the
black marble mantelshelf was a black marble clock. The sideboard was
heavy and too large for the room. The sole picture on the walls was the
portrait, very flat, of the late Dr. Tomkin-Jones, in a black suit and
white cravat and pasty face against a background of red curtains.
'My daughters, Sylvana and Jesse,' said Mrs. Jones; and two young
women, who had been crouching over a very small fire in a very elevated
grate, rose.
The elder was somewhat like her mother, but had her father's cadaverous
complexion and a spiteful expression. The younger, Jesse, was
pleasant-looking and almost pretty.
'My dears,' said Mrs. Tomkin-Jones, 'I need not introduce you to our
good friend and remote kinswoman, Mrs. Jose, who sends us at Christmas
such excellent hams and geese and all kinds of good things. But I beg
to introduce Miss Holwood, who belongs to the Lambton family you know,
connected with the Finnboroughs, whose carriage and liveries, brown
turned up with scarlet, you are so familiar with.'
Sylvana rose frigidly and inclined her head, but Jesse darted forward,
caught Mrs. Jose in her arms and kissed her.
'My dear,' said the mother reproachfully.
'My aunt,' said the girl, 'and an old darling.'
'Well, not absolutely, not exactly an aunt,' said Mrs. Tomkin-Jones.
'Please, however, do not forget Miss Holwood.'
The farmer's wife's face flushed with pleasure, and a kindly light
kindled in her eyes, hitherto awestruck.
'You would like to see your room,' said the lady to Winefred. 'Jesse
will show you. Her name is Jesse, not Jose. Jesse, my dear, do not
gush; gushing is unladylike.'
When the younger daughter had withdrawn with Winefred, Mrs.
Tomkin-Jones signed graciously to Mrs. Jose to take the seat lately
occupied by Jesse Jones. She lowered herself slowly, solemnly, into
an arm-chair, and brought her mittened hands together so that the
finger-tips met.
'Of course, it is understood,' said the lady, 'that I do not generally
put myself to so great an inconvenience as to take in a perfect
stranger, but you have been so considerate in remembering us with your
excellent hams――and the turkey――well, I am disposed to oblige you.'
'Besides the payment,' threw in Sylvana. 'That was a first
consideration.'
'You are mistaken, my dear,' said the mother with vexation. 'That was
the very last consideration.'
'Oh! and for that you stickled so much over the terms?'
'My dear, do not be vulgar.' Then to Mrs. Jose, 'Of course you
understand that levers would not have lifted me from my resolution to
receive no one.'
'You have been advertising, mamma.'
'My dear, will you be quiet? I enjoin on you silence. It is low to
interrupt. Nothing, my good Jose, would have induced me to open my
doors to one who is exceptionable in the matter of birth. I rely on you
that in this particular case all is right.'
'Her father is a gentleman, and desires to introduce her into good
society; her education has been unfortunately neglected,' stammered
Mrs. Jose.
'I quite understand that. Do you know him?'
'No, I have never seen him. He is, or has been, abroad, I have been
told. I think he was Governor-General of a place called Tierra del
Fuego. He came home, I have heard, but is back again in foreign parts.'
'Ah! A Colonial appointment. Exactly. And her mother?'
'Mr. Holwood lost his wife before his child was born――I mean soon after
it was born,' answered the good woman with growing confusion of face
and uncertainty of manner. 'But really you must not ask me too many
questions. I do know nothing about the family, but that they want the
maid to be properly educated, and they are ready to stump up.'
'Stump, Mrs. Jose!'
'That is to say――pay handsomely.'
'There is no thought of payment entertained by me. No sum that could be
mentioned would adequately compensate for the attention, the direction,
the correction that will be lavished on the young lady. I do not sell
my services,' said the widow severely; 'if it be deemed right that a
honorarium should be offered, I resign myself to it. But the large
circle of my acquaintance, their distinguished quality, and my wide
experience enable me to impart to any young lady placing herself under
my protection an air of refinement that is the exclusive privilege of
the aristocracy, and I venture to say that you would have to go far
afield to obtain advantages equal to those offered under this modest
roof. Oh! here they return, and apparently good friends.'
As the two girls entered the room, Mrs. Tomkin-Jones examined Winefred
with a critical eye.
'Country made or mismade,' she said. '_Nous allons changer tout cela._
And now, my good Jose, may I offer you something to eat or to drink?
We shall be going out for a drive in ten minutes, and I must haste
with my dressing. I am so sorry that I did not think of this before. A
biscuit now? A glass of sherry? No――then――excuse me, a cruel fate bears
me away, a social necessity――I must dress before my drive. Trust me. I
will do my best by the young lady, and when you see her again, you will
find her transmuted.'