THE PAYING GUESTS
Everything went smoothly after my interview with Jane Mullins. In an
incredibly short space of time the contract for the house was signed.
It was signed by mother, by me, and by Jane Mullins. Then we had
exciting and extraordinary days hunting for that furniture which Jane
considered suitable, and consulting about the servants, and the
thousand and one small minutiæ of the establishment. But finally Jane
took the reins into her own hands, whisking my mother and me off to
the country, and telling us that we could come and take possession on
the 29th of September.
"There won't be any visitors in the house then," she said, "but all
the same, the house will be full, from attic to cellar, before the
week is out, and you had best be there beforehand. Until then enjoy
yourselves."
Well, I did enjoy myself very much. It was quite terrible of me, for
now and then I saw such a look of sorrow on mother's face; but I
really did get a wonderful heartening and cheering up by Jane, and
when the weeks flew by, and the long desired day came at last, I
found myself in excellent spirits, but mother looked very pale and
depressed.
"You will get accustomed to it," I said, "and I think in time you will
learn to like it. It is a brave thing to do. I have been thinking of
father so much lately, and I am quite certain that he would approve."
"Do you really believe that, West?" asked my mother; "if I thought so,
nothing would really matter. West, dearest, you are so brave and
masculine in some things, you ought to have been a man."
"I am very glad I am a woman," was my reply, "for I want to prove that
women can do just as strong things as men, and just as brave things if
occasion requires."
So we arrived at the boarding-house, and Jane Mullins met us on the
steps, and took us all over it. It was a curious house, and at the
same time a very beautiful one. There was a certain mixture of tastes
which gave some of the rooms an odd effect. Jane's common-sense and
barbarous ideas with regard to colour, rather clashed with our
æsthetic instincts and our more luxurious ideas. But the drawing-room
at least was almost perfect. It was a drawing-room after mother's own
heart. In reality it was a very much larger and handsomer room than
the one we had left in Sumner Place, but it had a home-like look, and
the colouring was in one harmonious scheme, which took away from any
undue effect of size, and at the same time gave a delicious sense of
space. The old pictures, too, stood on the walls, and the old lovely
curtains adorned the windows; and the little easy chairs that mother
loved, stood about here and there, and all the nicknacks and articles
of vertu were to be found in their accustomed places; and there were
flowers and large palms, and we both looked around us with a queer
sense of wonder.
"Why, mother," I said, "this is like coming home."
"So it is," said mother, "it is extraordinary."
"But Miss Mullins," I continued, "you told me you had no taste. How is
it possible that you were able to decorate a room like this, and, you
dear old thing, the carpet on the floor has quite a Liberty tone, and
what a lovely carpet, too!"
Jane absolutely blushed. When she blushed it was always the tip of her
nose that blushed--it blushed a fiery red now. She looked down, and
then she looked up, and said after a pause--
"I guessed that, just what I would not like you would adore, so I did
the furnishing of this room on that principle. I am glad you are
pleased. I don't hold myself with cut flowers, nor nicknacks, nor
rubbish of that sort, but you do; and when people hold with them, and
believe in them, the more they have of them round, the better pleased
they are. Oh, and there's a big box of Fuller's sweetmeats on that
little table. I thought you would eat those if you had no appetite for
anything else."
"But I have an excellent appetite," I answered; "all the same, I am
delighted to see my favourite sweets. Come, mother, we will have a
feast, both of us; you shall enjoy your favourite bon-bon this
minute."
Mother got quite merry over the box, and Jane disappeared, and in five
minutes or so, a stylishly dressed parlour-maid came in with a
_récherché_ tea, which we both enjoyed.
Mother's bedroom was on the first floor, a small room, but a very
dainty one; and this had been papered with a lovely shade of very pale
gold, and the hangings and curtains were of the same colour. There was
a little balcony outside the window where she could sit, and where she
could keep her favourite plants, and there in its cage was her old
Bully, who could pipe "Robin Adair," "Home, sweet Home," and "Charlie
is my Darling." The moment he saw mother he perked himself up, and
bent his little head to one side, and began piping "Charlie is my
Darling" in as lively a tone as ever bullfinch possessed.
I had insisted beforehand on having my room at the top of the house
not far from Jane's, for of course the best bedrooms were reserved for
the boarders, the boarders who had not yet come.
"But I have sheafs of letters, with inquiries about the house," said
Jane, "and after dinner to-night, my dear Miss Wickham, you and I must
go into these matters."
"And mother, too," I said.
"Just as she pleases," replied Jane, "but would not the dear lady like
her little reading-lamp and her new novel? I have a subscription at
Mudie's, and some new books have arrived. Would it not be best for
her?"
"No," I said with firmness, "mother must have a voice in everything;
she must not drop the reins, it would not be good for her at all."
Accordingly after dinner we all sat in the drawing-room, and Jane
produced the letters. Mother and I were dressed as we were accustomed
to dress for the evening. Mother wore black velvet, slightly, very
slightly, open at the throat, and the lace ruffles round her throat
and wrists were of Brussels, and she had a figment of Brussels lace
arranged with velvet and a small feather on her head. She looked
charming, and very much as she might have looked if she had been going
to the Duchess's for an evening reception, or to Lady Thesiger's for
dinner.
As to me, I wore one of the frocks I had worn last season, when I had
not stepped down from society, but was in the thick of it, midst of
all the gaiety and fun.
Jane Mullins, however, scorned to dress for the evening. Jane wore in
the morning a kind of black bombazine. I had never seen that material
worn by anybody but Jane, but she adhered to it. It shone and it
rustled, and was aggravating to the last degree. This was Jane's
morning dress, made very plainly, and fitting close to her sturdy
little figure, and her evening dress was that harsh silk which I have
already mentioned. This was also worn tight and plain, and round her
neck she had a white linen collar, and round her wrists immaculate
white cuffs, and no cap or ornament of any kind over her thin light
hair. Jane was certainly not beautiful to look at, but by this time
mother and I had discovered the homely steadfastness of her abilities,
and the immense good nature which seemed to radiate out of her kind
eyes, and we had forgotten whether she was, strictly speaking,
good-looking or not.
Well, we three sat together on this first evening, and Jane produced
her letters.
"Here is one from a lady in the country," she began; "she wishes to
come to London for the winter, and she wishes to bring a daughter with
her; the daughter requires lessons in something or other, some useless
accomplishment, no doubt--anyhow that is their own affair. They wish
to come to London, and they want to know what we will take them for as
permanent boarders. The lady's name is Mrs. Armstrong. Her letter of
inquiry arrived yesterday, and ought to be answered at once. She adds
in a postscript--'I hope you will do me cheap.' I don't like that
postscript; it has a low, mean sort of sound about it, and I doubt if
we will put up with her long, but, as she is the very first to apply
for apartments, we cannot tell her that the house is full up. Now I
propose that we give Mrs. Armstrong and her daughter the large front
attic next to my room. If the young lady happens to be musical, and
wishes to rattle away on a piano, she can have one there, and play to
her heart's content without anybody being disturbed. She cannot play
anywhere else that I can see, for your lady mother, my dear Miss
Wickham, cannot be worried and fretted with piano tunes jingling in
her ears."
"West's mother must learn to put up with disagreeables," was my
mother's very soft reply.
But I did not want her to have any disagreeables, so I said--
"Perhaps we had better not have Mrs. Armstrong at all."
"Oh, my dear," was Jane's reply, "why should my spite at that
postscript turn the poor woman from a comfortable home? She shall
come. We will charge three guineas a week for the two."
"But that is awfully little," I replied.
"It is quite as much as they will pay for the attic, and they will be
awfully worrying, both of them. I feel it in my bones beforehand.
They'll be much more particular than the people who pay five guineas a
head for rooms on the first floor. Mark my words, Miss Wickham, it is
the attic boarders who will give the trouble, but we cannot help
that, for they are sure and certain, and are the backbone of the
establishment. I'll write to Mrs. Armstrong, and say that if they can
give us suitable references they can come for a week, in order that
both parties may see if they are pleased with the other."
"Shall I write, or will you?" I asked.
"Well, my dear, after a bit I shall be very pleased if you will take
the correspondence, which is sure to be a large item, but just at
first I believe that I can put things on a more business-like
footing."
"Thank you very much," I said in a relieved tone.
"That letter goes to-night," said Jane. She took a Swan fountain pen
from its place by her waist, scribbled a word or two on the envelope
of Mrs. Armstrong's letter, and laid it aside.
"Now I have inquiries from a most genteel party, a Captain and Mrs.
Furlong: he is a retired army man, and they are willing to pay five
guineas a week between them for a comfortable bedroom."
"But surely that is very little," I said again.
"It is a very fair sum out of their pockets, Miss Wickham, and I think
we can afford to give them a nice room looking south on the third
floor, not on the second floor, and, of course, not on the first; but
on the third floor we can give them that large room which is decorated
with the sickly green. It will turn them bilious, poor things, if
they are of my way of thinking."
Accordingly Captain and Mrs. Furlong were also written to that
evening, to the effect that they might enter the sacred precincts of
17 Graham Square as soon as they pleased.
Two or three other people had also made inquiries, and having talked
their letters over and arranged what replies were to be sent, Miss
Mullins, after a certain hesitation which caused me some small
astonishment, took up her final letter.
"A gentleman has written who wishes to come," she said, "and I think
he would be a desirable inmate."
"A gentleman!" cried mother, "a gentleman alone?"
"Yes, madam, an unmarried gentleman."
I looked at mother. Mother's face turned a little pale. We had neither
of us said anything of the possibility of there being unmarried
gentlemen in the house, and I think mother had a sort of dim
understanding that the entire establishment was to be filled with
women and married couples. Now she glanced at Jane, and said in a
hesitating voice--
"I always felt that something unpleasant would come of this."
Jane stared back at her.
"What do you mean, Mrs. Wickham? The gentleman to whom I allude is a
real gentleman, and it would be extremely difficult for me to refuse
him, because he happens to be a friend of the friend who lent me the
seven thousand pounds capital."
"There is a secret about that," I exclaimed, "and I think you ought to
tell us."
Jane looked at me out of her honest twinkling eyes, and her resolute
mouth shut into a perfectly straight line; then nodding her head she
said--
"We cannot refuse this gentleman; his name is Randolph. He signs
himself James Randolph, and specially mentions the friend who lent the
money, so I do not see, as the house is almost empty at present, how
we can keep him out. I should say he must be a nice man from the way
he writes. You have no objection to his coming, have you, Mrs.
Wickham?"
Still mother made no answer, but I saw a hot spot coming into both her
cheeks.
"Didn't I tell you, Westenra," she said after a pause, "that matters
might be made very disagreeable and complicated? To be frank with you,
Miss Mullins," she continued, "I would much rather have only married
couples and ladies in the house."
"Then, my dear madam, we had better close within the week," said Jane
Mullins in a voice of some indignation. "You ought to have arranged
for this at the time, and if you had mentioned your views I would
certainly not have joined partnership with you. What we want are
ladies _and_ gentlemen, and so many of them that the commonplace and
the vulgar will not be able to come, because there will not be room to
receive them. As to this gentleman, he has something to do in the
city, and likes to live in Bloomsbury, as he considers it the most
healthy part of London." Here Miss Mullins began to talk very
vigorously, and the tip of her nose became suspiciously red once more.
"I propose," she continued, "as he is quite indifferent to what he
pays, charging Mr. Randolph five guineas a week, and giving him the
small bedroom on the drawing-room floor. It is a little room, but
nicely furnished. He will be a great acquisition."
"May I see his letter?" asked mother.
"I am sorry, Madam, but I would rather no one saw it. It mentions my
friend, and of course my friend would not like his name to get out, so
I must keep the letter private, but if Mr. Randolph makes himself in
any way disagreeable to you ladies I am sure he will go immediately,
but my impression is that you will find him a great acquisition. I
will write to him to-night, and say that he can have the accommodation
he requires, and ask him to name the day when he will arrive."
After this we had a great deal of talk on other matters, and finally
Jane retired to her premises, and mother and I sat together in the
beautiful drawing-room.
"Well, Westenra," said mother, "it is done. What do you think of it?"
"It has only begun, mother dear. Up to the present I am charmed. What
a treasure we have secured in Jane."
"It is all very queer," said mother. "Why would not she show us Mr.,
Mr.----what was his name, Westenra?"
"Randolph," I interrupted.
"Why would she not show us Mr. Randolph's letter? I must say frankly
that I do not like it. The fact is, West, we are not in the position
we were in at Sumner Place, and we must be exceedingly circumspect.
You, for instance, must be distant and cold to all the men who come
here. You must be careful not to allow any one to take liberties with
you. Ah, my child, did we do wrong to come? Did we do wrong? It is
terrible for me to feel that you are in such an equivocal position."
"Oh but, mother, I am not. I assure you I can look after myself; and
then I have you with me, and Jane Mullins is such a sturdy little
body. I am sure she will guide our ship, our new, delightful ship,
with a flowing sail into a prosperous harbour; and I cannot see,
mother, why we should not receive a man who is a real gentleman. It is
the men who are not gentlemen who will be difficult to deal with. Mr.
Randolph will probably be a great help to us, and for my part I am
glad he is coming."
"Things are exactly as I feared," said mother, and I saw her anxious
eyes look across the room as though she were gazing at a vision which
gave her the greatest disquietude.
Early the next day I hung father's picture in such a position in the
drawing-room that mother could have the eyes following her wherever
she turned. She often said that she was never comfortable, nor quite
at home, unless under the gaze of those eyes, and we made up our minds
not to mind the fact of our new boarders asking questions about the
picture, for we were intensely proud of my father, and felt that we
could say in a few dignified words all that was necessary, and that my
dear father would in a measure protect us in our new career.
Early the next week the first boarders arrived. Three or four families
came the same day. Jane said that that was best. Jane was the one who
received them. She went into the hall and welcomed them in her brusque
tone and took them immediately to their rooms, in each of which
printed rules of the establishment were pinned up, and mother and I
did not appear until just before dinner, when the different boarders
had assembled in the drawing-room.
"Dress for dinner and make yourself look as nice as you possibly can,"
was Jane's parting shot to me, and I took her advice in my own way.