A "CONTINUAL READER."
A few days after the girls were comfortably settled in their new
quarters Primrose went out. She went out all alone, for by this time
London streets and London ways were familiar to her. Neatly and very
quietly dressed, with the usual serene light on her sweet face, and
that dignity about her whole bearing which prevented any one from ever
being rude to her, she went, not to her china-painting as usual, but
simply to take exercise in the London streets.
The fact was, Primrose wanted to be alone--she wanted to think out a
problem. She was beginning to be perplexed, and even slightly alarmed.
Her alarm was not caused at present by anything in connection with
Daisy, for Daisy seemed almost bright and well again; but money
matters were not too prosperous with the young housekeeper, the life
of independence she had hoped to attain for herself and her sisters
seemed to recede from her view day by day--the china-painting brought
in no apparent results; Mr. Jones never did anything except "all but"
get customers--the quarter's allowance from Mr. Danesfield looked
smaller and more inadequate to Primrose the more her experience in
expenses grew, and now something about Miss Egerton added to her
cares. It seemed to Primrose that Miss Egerton was holding back
something--she had always been frank and open with the girls, but when
Primrose asked her how much their furniture had cost, and whether she
had opened Mr. Danesfield's letter to pay for it the good lady's brow
had grown troubled, and she had replied--
"I am busy to-day--I will go fully into the matter presently,
Primrose;" but when morning after morning Miss Egerton was still too
busy to go into the question, Primrose began to have nameless little
fears, and had to scold herself for being fanciful and nervous.
On this afternoon she walked quickly, and without being herself aware
of it she presently found herself in the neighborhood of Regent's
Park, and at last not very far from Penelope Mansion. She was thinking
hard, and paying little attention to any of the objects that met her
eyes, when she was suddenly pulled up short by a round and hearty
voice, a fat hand was laid on her shoulder, and she found herself face
to face with Mrs. Dredge.
"Well, my dear, how are you, Miss Mainwaring? Oh, yes, I'm delighted
to see you. You did give us the slip, you and your pretty sisters. I
don't think Mrs. Flint quite liked it; we all questioned her, me, and
Miss Slowcum, and Mrs. Mortlock, and we said, 'At any rate give us
their address, Mrs. Flint--we take an interest in them--they are
pretty-spoken young ladies, and they were a credit to the
establishment.' But Mrs. Flint only frowned and bit her lips, and
colored. Then Mrs. Mortlock put her foot in it as far as Miss Slowcum
was concerned, for she said 'I'm sorry the girls from the country have
departed, and that they found us so disagreeable that they had to do
it unbeknown and quiet, for it was a real pleasure for ancient females
like ourselves to have young and bonny creatures about us.'
"Miss Slowcum got very stiff at this, for she apes youth, my dear, in
a way that's past belief, and Mrs. Mortlock had her little fling on
purpose. Well, dear, and how are you? You look thin to what you were,
and a bit pale. How is that pretty little sister of yours who wanted
the cheap lodgings, that was to be so clean you might eat on the
floor?"
"We are all fairly well, Mrs. Dredge," replied Primrose, when she
could edge in a word--for Mrs. Dredge was extremely voluble--"we are
fairly well, only Daisy has been suffering from cold. We have got
clean rooms too, thank you, Mrs. Dredge."
"Well now, dear, I'm glad to hear it; that pretty child amused me when
she spoke of cheapness and cleanliness going hand in hand. Bless her
little heart! little she knew.
"We have learned a great many things we knew nothing about six months
ago Mrs. Dredge," answered Primrose, a tinge of sadness in her voice.
"Yes, I am very glad to see you again--please, remember me to all the
ladies at Penelope Mansion."
"Oh, my dear, they'll be glad to hear I met you--even Miss Slowcum
will, though she's a little bitter on the subject of age; and as to
that poor Sarah Maria, or Sarah Martha--I forget which she is, only I
know she's Sarah, with something tacked to the end of it--why, she'll
be fairly skipping with delight. That poor girl, she just worships the
ground you three young ladies walk on."
"Oh, do give our dear love to Poppy," said Primrose tears springing to
her eyes.
Those sudden tears did not escape the notice of fat, good-humored Mrs.
Dredge.
"I hope you're getting on comfortably in every way, dear," she said,
"money matters and all. I had sore worries myself in the money line
until poor Dredge made his fortune in the chandlery business. My dear,
I was almost forgetting to tell you that we've had an affliction at
the Mansion."
"I'm very sorry," began Primrose.
"Yes, dear, and it's an affliction which is likely to continue, and to
grow heavier. It's poor Mrs. Mortlock, dear--I'm afraid she's losing
her sight, and very troublesome she'll be, and a worry to us all when
it's gone, for poor woman, she has a passion for politics that's
almost past bearing. Miss Slowcum and me, we take turns to read her
the papers now, but though our throats ache, and we're as hoarse as
ravens, we don't content her. Mrs. Mortlock is looking out for what
she is pleased to call a 'continual reader,' dear, and what I'm
thinking is that perhaps you or your sister would like to try for the
post--I believe you'd suit her fine, and she can pay well, for she's
fairly made of money."
Primrose colored. To read to Mrs. Mortlock was about the last
occupation she would have chosen, but the thought of the purse at home
which was getting so sadly light, and the feeling that after all her
efforts she might never do much in the china-painting line, caused her
to reflect anxiously.
"May I think about it and let you know, Mrs. Dredge?"
"No, no, my dear, not by any means, for she has advertised, and they
are pouring in. Poor Sarah Susan is almost off her head answering the
door to them. Stout readers and thin readers, old readers and young
readers, they're all flying to the post, as if there were nothing in
life so delightful as being 'continual reader' of politics to poor
Mrs. Mortlock. She ought to have been suited long ago, but I've a
strong hope that she isn't, for she's as fidgety and particular as if
she were a countess. Your best chance, dear, is to come straight home
with me--we'll see Mrs. Mortlock on the spur of the moment, and try
and arrange it all."
In this way Primrose obtained her first situation, for Mrs. Mortlock
was glad to feel her soft young hand, and her gentle and refined tones
had an instant and soothing effect on the poor lady's irritable
nerves.
"My dear," she said, "what with rasping voices, and piping voices, and
droning voices, to say nothing of voices that were more like growls
than anything else, I felt nearly demented. Yes, Miss Mainwaring, this
is a sore affliction that has befallen me, and I knew there was
nothing before me but the services of a 'continual reader,' for poor
Mrs. Dredge, though she did her best, was decidedly thick in her
utterance; and Miss Slowcum, oh dear! the affectations of Miss Slowcum
were quite beyond me, besides our differing altogether in politics--me
holding for Gladstone, and she fairly hating the poor man. You'll do
very well, Miss Mainwaring, and I hope you'll study your papers well
while you're at home, so that you may know what you are reading about,
and read intelligent accordingly. I always like both sides of the
question, which was my poor husband's habit, for he was a very
intelligent man, Miss Mainwaring. And then I like my bit of gossip and
my Court news. I adore my Queen, Miss Mainwaring, and it is a real
_bonâ fide_ pleasure to learn when and where she drives abroad. You'll
come, please, in the morning, and set to work at your continual
reading. Salary, fifteen shillings a week certain. Now, now, you
needn't hesitate at taking what I call a lofty salary, for it always
was my way to pay down handsome. There now, that's settled. Shake
hands, dear; good-bye till the morning. Sarah Maria, you needn't show
up no more of the 'continual readers,' for I believe I have made a
bargain with this young lady."
"Oh, Miss Primrose!" said poor Poppy, as she showed her out, "I am
more than thankful that you are coming here, miss--that's for my sake,
miss, though I'm dreadful afraid you'll suffer yourself. I'm awful
afraid you'll get muddled in your head, miss, for as to mine, it has
swam away long ago. I begin not to know in the least who I am, miss.
Poppy, why it ain't nowhere! only I'm Sarah, with all the other words
in the dictionary tacked on to it. I don't mind it now; they say folks
can get accustomed to anything, so I don't mind being Sarah, and
everything else too, only it has a very swimming effect on the head,
Miss Primrose. Oh, my darling young lady! do ask Miss Jasmine and Miss
Daisy to let me come and see them."
"Yes, Poppy, you shall come and see us all again, if you will only
keep our little secret, for just at present we don't want the people
at home to know where we are; and remember, Poppy dear, that you are
always Poppy to us three girls."
"I'll hold on to that," said poor Poppy, "when my head's fairly
reeling. I'll clutch on to it, and hold firm. Poppy, which means a
tare, I am, to my own dear young ladies. Oh dear! oh dear! they're
calling me--it's Sarah Matilda this time. Good-bye until to-morrow,
dear Miss Primrose."