LADY PELL
As soon as luncheon was over next day Miss Matilda prepared to set out
on her self-imposed errand. Miss Jane had again offered to go with her
and her offer had again been declined. A parcel had been made of the
jewellery and one or two pieces of plate, which Tamsin would carry for
her mistress as far as the door of Mr. Daykin’s bank, but neither she
nor Ethel was aware of what the contents consisted.
Miss Matilda, with rather a sad heart it must be confessed, was in the
act of putting on her outdoor things when from the window of her room
she saw a pair-horse brougham draw up at the garden-gate, from the box
of which a powdered footman presently alighted, and after speaking to
someone inside the carriage, opened the gate and entered the tiny
demesne. A few seconds later the cottage resounded with a rat-a-tat
loud enough to have awakened the seven sleepers. The door was opened by
Tamsin, while Miss Matilda ceased her preparations pending the
explanation of an incident so strange and unusual.
Presently Miss Jane in person burst into the room in what for her was a
state of unwonted excitement.
“Lady Pell—here’s her card—is desirous of an interview with one, or
both of the Misses Thursby on a matter of business, and the footman is
waiting at the door for an answer,” she exclaimed in a breath. “I never
heard her name before—did you, sister? and what can the business be she
wants to see us about?”
“That is a question I am no more able to answer than you are,”
responded Miss Matilda, who was not so readily flustered as Miss Jane;
“but a few minutes will doubtless serve to enlighten us. Will you send
word by the man that both of us are at home and shall be pleased to see
her ladyship. I will follow you downstairs in a couple of minutes.”
When, three minutes later, Lady Pell entered the little sitting-room
the sisters saw before them a woman considerably taller than either of
themselves; thin, but not unusually so, and carrying herself with an
uprightness that would have done credit to a grenadier. In age she
might be anything between sixty and seventy. She had Roman features of
a pronounced type which time had served to accentuate, so that it was
now difficult to realise that she had ever been accounted handsome.
There had always been a certain masculine element about her, more
seeming, perhaps, than real, which was not lessened by a faint
suspicion of a moustache which, in certain lights, could be seen to
shade her upper lip. She was richly but soberly dressed, as became a
person who in her day had filled the distinguished position of London’s
Lady Mayoress.
“My card will have told you who I am,” she began, addressing herself
smilingly to Miss Matilda, who was wearing the heavy gold chain which
marked her as occupying for the time the position of elder sister. “For
the present I am staying with my friends at Foljambe Court, and my
business here is to see you with reference to Vale View House, which is
to let, and which, I am told, is your property. I was directed in the
first instance to a house agent’s in the town, but I prefer to deal
with principals whenever I find it possible to do so.”
All this was spoken rapidly in the clear staccato tones of one who was
in the habit of making herself heard in whatsoever company she might
be.
“Will you not be seated?” It was Miss Matilda’s soft voice, in marked
contrast to Lady Pell’s, which preferred the request.
Lady Pell sat down on the nearest chair, while the sisters seated
themselves side by side on the sofa opposite her.
“It’s not for myself that I’m looking for a house,” she resumed, “but
for my stepdaughter, Mrs. Loftus, who has been ordered by her physician
to exchange the air of London for seven or eight months of the year for
that of the country. I had a glimpse of Vale View—there’s not much of
it can be seen from the road—when I was out driving the other day, and
it seemed to me just the kind of place Amelia is in want of. By the
way, I have not yet inquired as to the rent—a point,” she smilingly
added, “which is usually regarded as one of paramount importance.”
“The rent is one hundred guineas a year,” answered Miss Matilda.
“Hum. I fancy that is rather more than Amelia thought of giving. Still,
I don’t suppose a few guineas more or less would be allowed to stand in
her way if the place suited her in other respects. I should like to go
thoroughly over it, so as to be in a position to send her a full
report. I presume there is no objection to my doing so.”
“None whatever, Lady Pell. The keys shall be placed at your disposal
whenever you please.”
“There’s no time like the time present. I’ve nothing to do this
afternoon and I’ll go at once. By-the-bye, is there anyone that knows
the place who can go with me?”
The sisters looked at each other in perplexity.
On the spur of the moment they could not think of anyone. Why, oh why,
had she not gone to the house agent and done her business through him!
Lady Pell was looking from one to the other with an amused smile. She
had heard a good deal from one of her friends about the twins and their
little peculiarities. “Who is that very pretty girl I saw busy in the
garden just now?” she asked.
“That is our niece,” responded Miss Jane, speaking for the first time.
“Then perhaps she will condescend to act as my cicerone.”
The faces of the sisters lighted up.
“You could not have a more efficient one,” responded Miss Matilda.
“I have a weakness for young and pretty faces,” resumed Lady Pell, “due
perhaps to the fact that it is so long since I was young myself and
that at no time was I ever otherwise than plain-looking.”
Ethel was at once summoned, introduced to Lady Pell, and told what was
required of her. In a very short time the two were being driven in the
brougham in the direction of Vale View, calling on their way at the
house agent’s to obtain possession of the keys.
When they got back to Rose Mount, afternoon tea had just been brought
in, whereupon Miss Matilda begged of her ladyship to join them, which
she frankly did. But long before this she and Ethel had become on
excellent terms with each other, for, unlike the sisters, who had been
rather overawed by their visitor’s authoritative manner and
high-pitched voice, the girl had hardly been ten minutes in Lady Pell’s
company before, as by a sort of instinct, she seemed to divine the
existence of the really fine qualities out of which her character was
built up. Lady Pell recognised this and was proportionally gratified,
and from that moment she laid herself out to draw Ethel to her by a
bond which should prove a source of interest and pleasure to both.
By the time tea was over the sisters had discovered that their first
and not altogether flattering estimate of Lady Pell was a quite
erroneous one. They too felt drawn towards her although in a lesser
degree, just as Ethel had been. Behind a magisterial and somewhat
repellent exterior, which to many people caused her to seem a somewhat
formidable personage, lay a transparent sincerity of purpose and a
hatred of pretence or cant of any kind, which had an attraction for,
and gradually endeared her to, those of a like disposition to her own.
Then too, she was a well-informed person, with singularly clear and
observant faculties, who, when she chose, could be very good company,
and on the present occasion she did so choose. She had not failed to
notice that the sisters had been repelled, and perhaps somewhat cowed,
by her slightly aggressive manner at their opening interview, and she
now set herself to reverse the mental verdict which they had evidently
passed upon her.
Most people of Lady Pell’s position and standing in society would have
seen in the sisters only a couple of impoverished old maids whose good
opinion could be of no possible consequence to anybody. But her
ladyship had a way of looking at people and things from other than a
mere surface and conventional point of view. From the first the sisters
attracted her, and she made up her mind then and there that she would
see more of them. Speaking of them next day to her hostess at Foljambe
Court she said: “They are a couple of gems—that is the only word I can
think of which conveys my impression of them—and I shall feel proud to
be reckoned among the number of their friends.”
Lady Pell’s first words to Miss Matilda after the return of herself and
Ethel from their inspection of Vale View, were: “Well, Miss Thursby,
your niece and I have done what I call a very fair afternoon’s work,
and if she is not tired, I must confess that I am. We have been into
every nook and corner of the house—upstairs, downstairs, and in my
lady’s chamber—and a pretty tramp we found it—that is to say, I did,
for I am by no means so active as I once was. Then we extended our
survey to the offices and outhouses, the coach-house and stable and,
lastly, to the grounds. Now, as I am one of those people who dislike to
lock up their opinions, especially when, as in the present instance,
the opinion happens to be a favourable one, I will at once admit that I
am greatly pleased with the house and its surroundings. It seems to me
the very place to suit my stepdaughter. I will write her by to-night’s
post, asking her to run down and look over it for herself, so that you
may shortly expect to see me here again.”
This was good news for the sisters. The letting of Vale View meant a
very desirable addition to their limited means.
Following upon this, as already recounted, came afternoon tea, over
which her ladyship kept them all alive by her vivacious and somewhat
quizzical account of her presentation at court, and of sundry other
experiences during the term of her late husband’s year of office as
Lord Mayor.
Her last words to Ethel before going were: “Take notice, my dear, that
I shall call for you at three o’clock to-morrow to take you for a
drive. You are looking a little bit peaky, and a long country drive
will do you good.”
“What excellent company her ladyship is!” said Miss Matilda to her
sister as they stood and watched the brougham drive away.
“I cannot remember when I laughed so much in so short a time as I have
this afternoon.”
“And she is so good-natured with it all. Besides, it is quite evident
that she is as quick to see and quiz her own little peculiarities as
she is those of others.”
“I wonder whether she will quiz you and me to her friends, when she
gets back to Foljambe Court.”
“I think it very likely,” responded Miss Matilda drily. “But that she
will not do it ill-naturedly we may be sure.”
It was the same evening. The sisters had retired each to her own
chamber, and Miss Jane was in the act of arranging her hair for the
night, when Miss Matilda, in dressing-gown and slippers, appeared
suddenly before her.
“Sister,” she said, “what a pair of numskulls you and I must be to
imagine that our only way of raising the sum of fifty pounds was by
obtaining it on the loan of our jewellery and plate!”
“And what other way is there?” demanded Miss Jane with a stare. “A way
that would have occurred to anyone but two ignorant women who know
nothing about business affairs. We can, I feel sure, and that without
the least difficulty, obtain an advance, not merely of fifty pounds,
but of several times that amount, if required, on the security of the
title-deeds of Vale View (our joint freehold property), which are at
present in the custody of Mr. Linaway.”
“Oh, Mattie, how clever of you to have thought of such a thing! And
what a relief it will be not to have mamma’s jewels go out of our own
keeping even for a single day!”
Miss Matilda nodded assent. “I don’t mind confessing now,” she said,
“that last night I scarcely slept a wink for thinking of my coming
interview with Mr. Daykin. That I shall sleep soundly to-night I do not
doubt.”
Lady Pell was as good as her word. She called next afternoon in an open
carriage and carried off Ethel for a ten-miles drive. A couple of days
later she was at Rose Mount again, this time accompanied by her
stepdaughter, Mrs. Loftus. They had called for the keys of Vale View.
On their return the sisters had the gratification of being told that
Mrs. Loftus had agreed to take the house, and would enter upon its
tenancy almost immediately.
If, after the conclusion of the business between them, the sisters
imagined that, in all likelihood, they should see no more of Lady Pell,
they were mistaken. As long as she should remain at Foljambe Court she
evidently intended not to lose sight of them. Seldom did she let more
than a couple of days go by without calling at Rose Mount, and at least
twice a week she insisted on taking Ethel for an afternoon drive. They
all grew to like her more than at one time they would have thought it
possible that they should like anyone after so brief an acquaintance.
Meanwhile no further steps were taken in the matter of the loan. Thanks
to Lady Pell, Ethel was already looking brighter and better, and when
the former confided to the sisters that her visit would not terminate
till the middle of September, Miss Matilda said to Miss Jane when they
were alone: “We shall lose nothing by delaying our holiday till after
Lady Pell’s departure. A decided improvement is already discernible in
the dear girl’s health; besides which, all the seaside resorts will be
much less crowded, and, consequently, far pleasanter during the latter
half of September than they are now.”
But all these dispositions came to naught one afternoon when Lady
Pell’s visit had still about a week to run. She was sitting with the
sisters, Ethel being out of the room, when she startled them as they
had rarely been startled by saying apropos to nothing that had gone
before: “My dear friends, if I may be permitted to call you so, I want
you to do me a very great favour, which is neither more nor less than
to allow me to run off with your niece for a couple of months at the
very least.”
The sisters gazed at each other in consternation. Neither of them
spoke: they could not.
“The fact is,” resumed Lady Pell, “that my companion, Miss Beilby, whom
you have heard me speak of as being away just now on account of her
health, instead of recovering, as I had hoped she presently would do,
has unfortunately taken a turn for the worse, and goodness only knows
when she will be well enough to come back to me. While at Foljambe
Court I don’t much miss her, but as soon as I leave there I shall want
someone to replace her for the time being. Now, that I have taken a
great fancy to your niece you must by this time be well aware, and I
think that if she were to come to me for a couple of months, or longer
if you can spare her, the change could scarcely fail to prove
beneficial to her, while, at the same time, you would be conferring on
me a great personal favour. On leaving here I purpose going direct to a
sunny château in France, the home of a very dear friend of mine, there
to stay for some time. Is it asking too much that you should allow your
niece to be my _compagnon de voyage?_”
As far as the reader is concerned, it will be enough to state that
when, about a week later, Lady Pell left Foljambe Court and St.
Oswyth’s, she took Ethel with her.
Now, it may be here remarked, Lady Pell was first cousin to Sir Gilbert
Clare.