Miss Tippet's tea-party began by the arrival of Willie Willders, who,
being fond of society, and regardless of fashion, understood his hostess
literally when she named her tea-hour! For full half an hour,
therefore, he had the field to himself, and improved the occasion by
entertaining Miss Tippet and Emma Ward with an account of the wonderful
inventions that emanated from the fertile brain of Mr Thomas Tippet.
Strange to say, a deep and lasting friendship had sprung up between the
eccentric old gentleman and his volatile assistant. Willie sympathised
so fully with his master in his wild schemes, and displayed withal such
an aptitude for mechanical contrivance, and such a ready appreciation of
complex theories, that Mr Tippet soon came to forget his extreme youth,
and to converse with him, propound schemes and new ideas to him, and
even to ask his advice; with as much seriousness as though he had been a
full-grown man.
This was of course very gratifying to Willie, who repaid his master's
condescension and kindness by devoting himself heart and soul to the
duties of what he styled his "profession." He was a good deal put out
when his brother Frank asked him one day what his "profession" was, and
resolving never again to be placed in such an awkward position of
ignorance, asked his employer what was the name of his business, to
which the employer replied that it had no particular name; but, on being
urged by his assistant to give it a name, he suggested that he might, if
so disposed, style himself a poly-artist, which, he explained, meant an
artist of many occupations. Willie felt that this might be translated
"jack-of-all-trades," but on mature consideration he resolved to adopt
it, in the belief that few people would understand what it meant, and
that thereby he would be invested with a halo of mystery, which was,
upon the whole, a gratifying reflection.
Gradually, however, Willie was led to diverge from his employer to his
brother Frank, in regard to whom Miss Tippet entertained the strongest
feelings of admiration, because of his courageous conduct in saving
Louisa Auberly. Willie pursued this theme all the more willingly that
Emma appeared to be deeply interested in it.
Emma Ward was very romantic in her nature; yet she had a keen
appreciation of the ludicrous,--which caused her to appear somewhat
light-headed and giddy in the eyes of superficial observers; but she
possessed an underlying earnestness of soul, which displayed itself in a
thousand ways to those who had much intercourse with her. She was an
ardent hero-worshipper; and while Miss Tippet was her heroine, Frank
Willders was, at that time, her _beau ideal_ of a hero, although she
only knew him from description.
Willie was still in the middle of a glowing account of a fire, in which
Frank and his friends Dale and Baxmore were the chief actors; and Emma
was listening with heightened colour, parted lips, and sparkling eyes,
when Matty Merryon opened the door and announced Mr Tippet.
That gentleman was still in the act of shaking his sister's hands with
both of his, and kissing her on both cheeks heartily, when Matty
announced Miss Deemas.
Matty, being Irish, allowed her soul to gush out too obviously in her
tones; so that her feelings towards the Eagle, though unexpressed, were
discernible.
Miss Deemas strode up to Miss Tippet, and pecked her on the right cheek,
much as an eagle might peck a tender rabbit, which it could slay and
devour if it chose, but which it preferred to spare for a time. She was
immediately introduced to Mr Tippet, whom she favoured with a stiff
bow, intended to express armed neutrality in the meantime; with a
possibility, if not a probability, of war in the future. The eccentric
gentleman felt chilled, but ventured to express an opinion in regard to
the weather, glancing for confirmation of the same towards the window,
through which he naturally enough expected to see the sky; but was
baffled by only seeing the green venetian blinds, which ruled off the
opposite houses in narrow stripes. Before he had recovered himself to
make any further observation, Miss Deemas had attempted, in a
condescending way, to peck the cheek of Emma Ward; but that young lady,
feeling disinclined, so managed that she received the peck on her
forehead.
On Willie, Miss Deemas bestowed a glance of utter indifference, which
Willie replied to with a gaze of desperate defiance.
Then Miss Deemas seated herself on the sofa, and asked her "dear friend"
how she did, and how she felt, and whether things in general were much
as usual; from which elevated region of generalities she gradually
descended into the more particular sphere of gossip and scandal.
It is only just to Miss Tippet to say that the Eagle did not find her a
congenial bird of prey in this region. On the contrary, she had to drag
her unwilling friend down into it; and as Miss Tippet was too
conscientious and kind-hearted to agree with her in her sweeping
censures and caustic observations and wilful misconstructions, it is
difficult to conceive wherein she (the Eagle) found pleasure in her
society. Probably it was because she found in her one who would submit
meekly to any amount of contradiction, and listen patiently to any
amount of vituperative declamation.
"So it seems Mr Auberly has disinherited and dismissed his son, my
dear," said Miss Deemas, smoothing her dress with both hands, as though
she were about to lay Mr Auberly in her lap, and analyse him.
"I'm sorry to say that it is too true, Julia," answered Miss Tippet,
with a sigh.
"Ha! it's so like one of these creatures," said Miss Deemas, pursing her
thin lips; "so domineering, so towering, in their pride of mere physical
power."
Mr Tippet glanced at the Eagle in surprise, not being able to
understand to what sort of "creatures" she made reference.
"Poor Frederick," sighed Miss Tippet, "I don't know what he'll do (ring
the bell, Emma, darling); he's such a bold, high-spirited young man, and
it's all owing to his determination to take to--to what's-'is-name as a
profession (bring the tea, Matty). It's very sad."
"That must be a new sort of profession," observed Miss Deemas pointedly.
"Oh! I mean painting, you know. It's impossible to arrange one's
things in such very correct language, you know, dear Julia; you are
really too--oh! did you hear of Joe Corney, and what's-his--fireman's
visit to Mrs Denman? To be sure you did; I forgot it was in your
house. It was such a funny account; you heard of it, brother (ring the
bell again, dear), didn't you?"
Mr Tippet, whose wonted vivacity was quite subdued by the freezing
influence of the Eagle, said that he had not heard of it; whereupon Miss
Tippet said that she had heard of it, and so had Willie Willders, who
had heard of it from his brother Frank, who had heard of it from Joe
Corney himself; and then she attempted to relate the matter, but failed,
and finally asked Willie to tell the story, which Willie did with much
gusto; looking at Miss Deemas all the time, and speaking in a very
positive tone, as if he thought she was doubting every word he said, and
was resolved to hurl it in her teeth, whether she chose to believe it or
not.
"Capital!" exclaimed Mr Tippet, laughing heartily, when Willie had
concluded; "what an energetic old lady she must be! Really, I must get
introduced to her, and show her the self-acting fire-extinguisher I have
just invented. You remember it, Willie?" Willie nodded. "I've laid it
aside for some time; but it is very nearly complete now. A little more
work on it will finish it. My only difficulty in regard to it is,
madam," he addressed himself to Miss Deemas here, "that it is apt to
burst, and I am uncertain whether or not to add a safety-valve to
prevent such a catastrophe, or to make the metal so very strong, that
nothing short of gunpowder would burst it; but then, you see, that would
make the whole affair too heavy. However, these are only minor
difficulties of detail, which a little thought will overcome."
Miss Deemas received all this with a sinister smile, and replied with
the single word, "Oh!" after which she turned immediately to Miss
Tippet, and remarked that the weather had been unusually warm of late
for the season of the year, which remark so exasperated Willie Willders
that he turned with a face of crimson to Emma, and asked her if she
didn't feel a draught of cold air coming over her from somewhere, and
whether she would not sit nearer the fire, and farther away from the
window!
Willie meant this for an uncommonly severe cut; for Miss Deemas sat at
the end of the sofa, near the window!
Fortunately, at this point, Matty Merryon ushered in Loo Auberly, who
was instantly enfolded in Miss Tippet's arms, and thence transferred to
Emma's, in which she was led to the sofa, and gently deposited in the
softest corner.
"Darling Loo!" exclaimed Miss Tippet, with tears in her eyes; "you look
_so_ thin and pale."
There could be no doubt on that point. Little Loo, as Emma styled her,
was worn to a shadow by sickness, which had hitherto baffled the
doctor's skill. But she was a beautiful shadow; such a sweet, gentle
shadow, that one might feel thankful, rather than otherwise, to be
haunted by it.
"Pray don't mind me; I'm too tired to speak to you yet; just go on
talking. I like to listen," said Loo softly.
With ready kindness, Miss Tippet at once sought to draw attention from
the child, by reverting to Mrs Denman; and Matty created a little
opportune confusion by stumbling into the room with the tea.
Matty usually tripped over the carpet at the door, and never seemed to
become wiser from experience.
"Poor Mrs Denman," said Miss Tippet, pouring out the tea; "it must have
been an awful shock; think of a (Sugar, brother? I always forget), what
was I--oh, yes; think of a fireman seizing one round the (Cream, Willie?
I know you have a sweet tooth, so I don't need to ask if you take
sugar)--yes, he carried her down that dreadful what-d'ye-call-it, and
into the next house with nothing (A little more sugar, Julia? No? )--
nothing on but her what's-'is-name. Oh! it was sad; sad to lose all her
fine things, too--her furniture, and--and thingumies. Do try a piece of
cake, brother."
"I know a worse case than hers," said Willie, with a knowing look.
"Do you?" exclaimed Miss Tippet.
"Oh! do tell it," cried Emma earnestly; "he's just been telling it to
me, and it is _so_ sad and interesting."
"Come, let's hear about it, lad," said Mr Tippet.
Thus encouraged, Willie related his adventure with the clown's family,
and told his tale with such genuine feeling, that Miss Tippet, Loo, and
Emma found their eyes moist when he had concluded.
There was a good deal of comment upon this subject, and Miss Deemas
animadverted very strongly upon actors in general and clowns in
particular. As to ballet-girls, she could not find words to express her
contempt for them; but in reference to this Miss Tippet ventured to
rebuke her friend, and to say that although she could not and would not
defend the position of these unfortunates, yet she felt that they were
very much to be pitied, seeing that they were in many cases trained to
their peculiarly indelicate life by their parents, and had been taught
to regard ballet-dancing as quite a proper and legitimate
what's-its-name. No doubt this was only a palliation of the life they
led, but she thought that if anyone was to be severely blamed in the
matter it was the people who went to witness and encourage such wicked
displays.
Miss Deemas dissented generally from all her friend's observations, and,
wishing to change the subject, asked Loo if her father was coming to
fetch her home.
"No," said Loo; "dear papa is not well to-night, but he is to send the
carriage for me. Oh, I wish," she continued, reverting to the previous
subject, "I _wish_ I could do something for these poor people. I'm so
very, very sorry for the fairy."
"So you can, if you choose," said Miss Deemas sharply.
"No, indeed I cannot," replied Loo in an earnest voice; "I'm too ill and
weak now to be of any use to anyone. Once I was useful to dear papa,
but ever since the fire I have not been of use to anybody; only a
hindrance to them. Since I have been ill I have thought much more about
what I read in the Bible, and I've had a great desire to do good in some
way or other, but how can I--so weak and helpless?"
Loo almost sobbed, for her sympathies had been awakened by Willie, and a
chord had been touched which had been vibrating in her breast for some
weeks past.
"Your father is rich, is he not?" asked the Eagle.
"Yes, I believe so."
"Well, a word to him may be the cause of much good, in the shape of
money at least, to people in distress; but rich people don't always like
to spend their money in that way."
Loo hung down her head and made no reply, for she knew that her father
did not like to part with money. She had often heard him refuse to do
so in days gone by, even when very pathetic appeals (as she thought)
were made to him; and experience told her that it was in vain to look
for help in that quarter.
The party was now increased by the arrival of Frederick Auberly, who at
once infused life into everybody, except Miss Deemas, who had life
enough of her own, and would by no means accept the loan of any from
anyone else. Fred therefore ignored her altogether, and told stories
and cracked jokes and sang songs as if no such female iceberg were
present.
Poor Loo was overjoyed to see him, and laying her head on his breast,
bade him speak away and not ask questions; only speak, and allow her to
listen and rest.
Fred obeyed, and at once began an earnest discussion with Willie as to
the best method of getting a stout gentleman out of a third-floor window
in case of fire, when Matty Merryon entered with a flushed face and said
that a fireman who would not give his name wished to see Willie Willders
for a minute; and she was inclined to think it was his brother.
"What! Frank?" exclaimed Willie, rising to go downstairs.
"Stay, Willie," cried Miss Tippet eagerly; "don't go down. Pray let me
have him up; I should so like to see him, and I'm sure so would Loo; the
man, you know, who went up the what's-its-name, and brought you--yes,
send him up, Matty."
"Plaze, mim, he won't come," replied the girl, "I know'd ye would like
to see him, an' axed him in."
"Tell him," said Miss Tippet, "that I request it as a favour."
While Matty was delivering this message, the Eagle took occasion to
sniff once or twice in a contemptuous manner, and wondered why people
worshipped men just because they happened to be big, and what they
called handsome. For her part, she hated all men, but if she were to be
obliged to choose between any class (which she was thankful to say was
_not_ necessary in her case), she would certainly give the preference to
ugly men and small.
Willie Willders nodded his head approvingly, and, being exasperated into
a savage serio-comic condition, as well by the Eagle's voice and aspect
as by her sentiments, he said that she was quite right, and that if _he_
were a lady like her he would hold the same opinions, because then, said
he, "being stout, I could wallop my husband an' keep him down, an' the
contrast of his ugly face with mine would not be so obvious."
Frank's step on the stair fortunately prevented this open and desperate
attack being noticed. Next moment all turned their eyes in breathless
expectation towards the door.
Being on duty, Frank appeared in fireman's costume, with the sailor-like
undress cap in his hand. He bowed to the company, and apologised to
Miss Tippet for intruding, but he had wished to ask his brother Willie
to call at the fire station on his way home to convey a letter to his
mother, and merely meant to see him at the door.
"I'm _very_ glad you came, Mr Willders," said Miss Tippet, "for I
assure you we all regard you as the preserver of our dear Miss Auberly's
life when you went up the--the--thing. Here she is. You must shake--
that's it--so nice!"
The last part of Miss Tippet's remark referred to Loo stretching out her
hand to Frank, who advanced promptly and shook it with great tenderness.
He then shook hands with Fred, who expressed his regard for him in warm
terms; also with Mr Tippet, who paid him some enthusiastic compliments,
and said something to the effect that the parent stem from which two
such branches as he and Willie had grown must be a prime plant.
As he turned from Mr Tippet--who, being very short, appeared to be
looking up at a steeple while he delivered this opinion--Frank's eyes
encountered those of Emma Ward, who was gazing at him in such
undisguised admiration, that, being a somewhat bashful man, he felt a
little confused, and dropped his eyes, figuratively, on the floor. Emma
blushed scarlet with shame at being caught in this way, and thereafter
became rigidly grave and indifferent.
When Frank again raised his eyes--which, by the way, he did
immediately--they encountered the eagle glance of Miss Deemas frowning
defiance on him, as being a sort of type or pattern specimen of his
highly objectionable race. Had Miss Deemas been a man (which would have
gratified her more than she could have expressed) Frank could have met
the frown with a smile of pity. As it was, he turned to the little
eager countenance of Miss Tippet, and felt deeper respect than ever for
the sex; thus showing that just as an exception proves a rule, so an
unfavourable contrast strengthens a cause.
"Pray sit down, Mr Willders," entreated Miss Tippet earnestly; "I
should like _so_ much to hear how you did it from your own lips, and how
you can possibly venture up such dreadful things, just like going up the
outside of the Monument. Dear Loo, and you came down it, too; but, to
be sure, your eyes were shut, which was as well, for you were only in
your night--Ah, well, yes, _do_ sit down Mr Firem---Willders, I mean."
Frank thanked her, but declined, on the ground that he was on duty, and
that he feared he was doing wrong in even looking in on them for the few
minutes he had stayed. "Good-night, ma'am," he continued, "good-night.
You'll call at the station on your way home, Willie?"
Willie said he would, and then all the company, excepting the Eagle,
shook hands with the stalwart fireman, looking up at him as if he were a
hero just returned from the proverbial "hundred fights." Even Emma Ward
condescended to shake hands with him at parting.
"Perhaps you'll be in the middle of a fire this very night," cried Tom
Tippet, following him to the door.
"It is quite possible," said Frank, with a smile.
Miss Deemas was heard to snort contemptuously at this.
"Perhaps you may even save more lives!" cried Miss Tippet.
"It may be so," answered Frank, again smiling, but evidently feeling
anxious to make his escape, for he was not one of those men who like to
be lionised.
"Only think!" exclaimed Miss Tippet as Frank quitted the room.
"Ha!" ejaculated the Eagle, in a tone which was meant to convey her
well-known opinion that women would do such things quite as well as men
if their muscles were a little stronger.
It is but justice to Miss Deemas to explain that she did not champion
and exalt women out of love to her sex. Love was not one of her strong
points. Rampant indignation against those whom she bitterly termed
"lords of creation" was her strong tower of refuge, in which she
habitually dwelt, and from the giddy summit of which she hurled would-be
destruction on the doomed males below. Among her various missiles she
counted the "wrongs of her sex" the most telling shaft, and was in
consequence always busy sharpening and polishing and flourishing this
dread weapon in the eyes of her friends as well as her enemies,
although, of course, she only launched it at the latter.
Perched on her self-exalted eyrie, Miss Deemas did not know that there
was a pretty large number of her own sex in the comparatively humble
multitude below, who, while they clearly recognised the "wrongs of
women" (and preferred to call them "misfortunes") did not attribute them
solely, or even largely, to the wickedness of men, but to the combined
wickedness and folly of society in general, and who were of opinion that
such matters were to be put right by patient, persevering, laborious,
and persistent efforts on the part of men and women acting in concert,
and not by the unwomanly acts and declamation of ladies of the Deemas
stamp, whom they counted the worst enemies of the good cause--some
wittingly, others unwittingly so. These people among the comparatively
humble multitude below, also had the penetration to perceive that the
so-called "wrongs" did not lie all on one side, but that there was a
pretty large class of the so-called "lords" who went about the world
habitually in a sad and disgraceful state of moral semi-nakedness, in
consequence of their trousers having been appropriated and put on by
their better-halves, and that therefore it was only meet that men and
women should be united (as indeed they were from the first intended to
be) in their efforts to put each other's "wrongs" to "rights."
In addition to all this, these weak-minded (shall we call them?) people,
moving in the comparatively humble multitude below, entertained the
belief that rising in antagonism to the male sex in this matter was not
only unnecessary and unjust and impolitic, but also ungenerous, for they
reflected with much calm satisfaction that the "lords" are, after all,
"under woman's control."
But Miss Deemas and all the ladies of the Eagle stamp did not think so.
They did not believe that a strong mind means a mind strong enough to
exercise its own powers to the ascertainment and reception of truth and
the rejection of falsehood and fallacy; strong enough, under the
influence of God's love, to perceive the paths of duty in all their
ramifications, and to resolve to follow them. They did not believe that
a high spirit, in the true sense of the word, meant a spirit broken down
altogether and brought into subjection to its owner's, not another's,
will. By no means. A strong mind with the Deemas-eagles meant
unutterable and unalterable obstinacy, blind as a bat, with the great
guns blazing all round, and the colours nailed to the mast. High spirit
with them meant the inclination--ever present, always strong, and often
asserted--to seize all the rest of the world, male and female, and lead
it by the nose!
The Deemas-eagles as a class receive ready-made opinions, fabricated by
someone else, and call them their own--receiving them originally and
holding them subsequently, not because they are true, but because they
are pleasant to their eyes and sweet to their taste. They hold them
stoutly, too, probably because, having no foundation, they would be apt
to fall and get broken if not upheld.
Having said thus much in behalf of the Deemas eagles, we now dismiss
them, with an apology to the reader.