CHAPTER III.

A DEAF GIRL.

"Yes, Lady Moulton, I will undertake the gypsy tent business at your

fete; that is to say, I will see to the getting up of the tent, provide

a gypsy for you, and someone to stand at the door and let in one visitor

at a time and receive the money. Do you mean to make it a fixed charge,

or leave it to each to pay the gypsy?"

"Which do you think will be best, Hilda? Of course the great thing is to

get as much money for the decayed ladies as possible."

"I should say that it would be best to let them give what they like to

the gypsy, Lady Moulton."

"But she might keep some of it herself."

"I think I can guarantee that she won't do that; I will get a dependable

gypsy. You see, you could not charge above a shilling entrance, and very

likely she would get a good deal more than that given to her."

"Well, my dear, I leave it all to you. Spare no expense about the tent

and its fitting up. I have set my heart upon the affair being a success,

and I think everything else has been most satisfactorily arranged. It is

a very happy thought of yours about the gypsy; I hope that you will find

a clever one. But you must mind and impress upon her that we don't want

any evil predictions. Nothing could be in worse taste. It is all very

well when a girl is promised a rich husband and everything to match, but

if she were told that she would never get married, or would die young,

or something of that sort, it would be a most unpleasant business."

"I quite agree with you, and will see that everything shall be 'couleur

de rose' as to the future, and that she shall confine herself as much as

possible to the past and present."

"I leave it in your hands, and I am sure that it will be done nicely."

Lady Moulton was a leading member of society, a charming woman with a

rich and indulgent husband. Her home was a pleasant one, and her balls

were among the most popular of the season. She had, as her friends said,

but one failing, namely, her ardor for "The Society for Affording Aid to

Decayed Ladies." It was on behalf of this institution that she was now

organizing a fete in the grounds of her residence at Richmond. Hilda

Covington was an orphan and an heiress, and was the ward of her uncle,

an old Indian officer, who had been a great friend of Lady Moulton's

father. She had been ushered into society under her ladyship's auspices.

She had, however, rather forfeited that lady's favorable opinion by

refusing two or three unexceptionable offers.

"My dear," she remonstrated, "no girl can afford to throw away such

chances, even if she is, as you are, well endowed, pretty, and clever."

The girl laughed.

"I am not aware that I am clever at all, Lady Moulton. I speak German

and French perfectly, because I have been four or five years in Hanover;

but beyond that I am not aware of possessing any special

accomplishments."

"But you are clever, my dear," the other said decidedly. "The way you

seem to understand people's characters astonishes me. Sometimes it seems

to me that you are almost a witch."

"You are arguing against yourself," the girl laughed. "If I am such a

good judge of character I am not likely to make a mistake in such an

important matter as choosing a husband for myself."

Lady Moulton was silenced, but not convinced; however, she had good

sense enough to drop the subject. General Mathieson had already told her

that although he should not interfere in any way with any choice Hilda

might make, he should make it an absolute condition that she should not

marry until she came of age; and as she was at present but eighteen,

many things might occur in the three years' interval.

On her return home, after arranging to provide a gypsy for Lady

Moulton's fete, Hilda related what had occurred to a girl friend who was

staying with her.

"Of course, Netta, I mean to be the gypsy myself; but you must help me.

It would never do for me to be suspected of being the sorceress, and so

you must be my double, so that I can, from time to time, go out and mix

with the crowd. A few minutes at a time will do."

The other laughed. "But what should I say to them, Hilda?"

"Oh, it is as easy as A B C. All that you will have to do is to speak

ambiguously, hint at coming changes, foresee a few troubles in the way,

and prophesy a happy solution of the difficulties. I will take upon

myself the business of surprising them, and I fancy that I shall be able

to astonish a few of them so much that even if some do get only

commonplaces we shall make a general sensation. Of course, we must get

two disguises. I shall have a small tent behind the other where I can

change. It won't take a moment--a skirt, and a shawl to go over my head

and partly hide my face, can be slipped on and off in an instant. Of

course I shall have a black wig and some sort of yellow wash that can be

taken off with a damp towel. I shall place the tent so that I can leave

from behind without being noticed. As we shall have the tent a good deal

darkened there will be no fear of the differences between the two

gypsies being discovered, and, indeed, people are not likely to compare

notes very closely."

"Well, I suppose you will have your way as usual, Hilda."

"I like that!" the other said, with a laugh. "You were my guide and

counselor for five years, and now you pretend that I always have my own

way. Why, I cannot even get my own way in persuading you to come and

settle over here. I am quite sure that you would get lots of pupils,

when people understand the system and its advantages."

"That is all very well, Hilda, but, you see, in the first place I have

no friends here except yourself, and in the second it requires a good

deal of money to get up an establishment and to wait until one gets

pupils. My aunt would, I know, put in the money she saved when you were

with us if I were to ask her, but I wouldn't do so. To begin with, she

regards that as my fortune at her death. She has said over and over

again how happy the knowledge makes her that I shall not be left

absolutely penniless, except, of course, what I can get for the house

and furniture, and I would do anything rather than sell that. She admits

that I might keep myself by teaching deaf children, but, as she says, no

one can answer for their health. I might have a long illness that would

throw me out. I might suddenly lose a situation, say, from the death of

a pupil, and might be a long time before I could hear of another. She

said to me once, 'I do hope, Netta, you will never embark one penny of

the little money that will come to you in any sort of enterprise or

speculation, however promising it may look.' We had been talking of

exactly the plan that you are now speaking of. 'The mere furnishing of a

house in England large enough to take a dozen children would swallow up

a considerable sum. At first you might have to wait some time till you

could obtain more than two or three children, and there would be the

rent and expenses going on, and you might find yourself without money

and in debt before it began to pay its way; therefore I do hope that you

will keep the money untouched except to meet your expenses in times of

illness or of necessity of some kind. If you can save up money

sufficient to start an establishment, it will, I think, be a good thing,

especially if you could secure the promise of four or five pupils to

come to you at once. If in a few years you should see your way to insure

starting with enough pupils to pay your way, and I am alive at the time,

I would draw out enough to furnish the house and will look after it for

you.' That was a great concession on her part, but I certainly would

not let her do it, for she is so happy in her home now, and I know that

she would worry herself to death."

"Well, Netta, you know I am still ready to become the capitalist."

Both girls laughed merrily.

"Why not, Netta?" the speaker went on. "I know you said that you would

not accept money as a loan even from me, which, as I told you, was very

stupid and very disagreeable, but there is no reason why we should not

do it in a business way. Other women go into business, why shouldn't I?

As you know, I can't absolutely touch my money until I come of age, and

it is nearly three years before that; still, I feel sure that the

General would let me have some money, and we could start the Institute.

It would be great fun. Of course, in the first place, you would be

principal, or lady superintendent, or whatever you like to call

yourself, and you would draw, say, five hundred pounds a year. After

that we could divide the profits."

Again both girls laughed.

"And that is what you call a business transaction?" the other said. "I

know that your guardian is very kind, and indeed spoils you altogether,

but I don't think that you would get him to advance you money for such a

scheme."

"I am really in earnest, Netta."

"Oh, I don't say that you would not do it, if you could. However, I

think, anyhow, we had better wait until you come of age. There is plenty

of time. I am only twenty yet, and even in three years' time I doubt

whether I should quite look the character of professor or lady

superintendent."

"Well, directly I get of age I shall carry out my part of the plan,"

Hilda said positively, "and if you are disagreeable and won't do as I

want you, I shall write to the professor and ask him to recommend a

superintendent."

The other laughed again.

"You would have a difficulty, Hilda. You and I are, so far, the only

two English girls who have learned the system, and either your

superintendent would have to learn English or all her pupils would have

to learn German."

"We will not discuss it further at present, Miss Purcell," Hilda said

with dignity. "Oh, dear, those were happy days we had in that dear old

house, with its pretty garden, when you were thirteen and I was eleven.

I have got a great deal of fun from it since. One gets such curious

little scraps of conversation."

"Then the people do not know what you learned over with us?"

"No, indeed; as you know, it was not for a year after I came back that I

became altogether the General's ward, and my dear mother said to me just

before she died, 'It would be better for you, dear, not to say anything

about that curious accomplishment of yours. I know that you would never

use it to any harm, but if people knew it they would be rather afraid of

you.' Uncle said the same thing directly I got here. So of course I have

kept it to myself, and indeed if they had not said so I should never

have mentioned it, for it gives me a great deal of amusement."

When Hilda Covington was ten years old, she had, after a severe attack

of scarlet fever, lost her hearing, and though her parents consulted the

best specialists of the time, their remedies proved of no avail, and at

last they could only express a hope, rather than an opinion, that in

time, with added health and strength, nature might repair the damage. A

year after her illness Mr. Covington heard of an aurist in Germany who

had a European reputation, and he and Mrs. Covington took Hilda over to

him. After examining her he said, "The mischief is serious, but not, I

think, irreparable. It is a case requiring great care both as to

dieting, exercise, and clothing. If it could be managed I should like to

examine her ears once a fortnight, or once a month at the least. I have

a house here where my patients live when under treatment, but I should

not for a moment advise her being placed there. A child, to keep in

good health, requires cheerful companions. If you will call again

to-morrow I will think the matter over and let you know what I

recommend."

Mr. and Mrs. Covington retired much depressed. His opinion was, perhaps,

a little more favorable than any that they had received, but the thought

that their only child must either make this considerable journey once a

month or live there altogether was very painful to them. However, on

talking it over, they agreed that it was far better that she should

reside in Hanover for a time, with the hope of coming back cured, than

that she should grow up hopelessly deaf.

"It will only be as if she were at school here," Mr. Covington said.

"She will no doubt be taught to talk German and French, and even if she

is never able to converse in these languages, it will add to her

pleasures if she can read them."

The next day when they called upon the doctor he said, "If you can bring

yourself to part with the child, I have, I think, found the very thing

to suit her. In the first place you must know that there is in the town

an establishment, conducted by a Professor Menzel, for the instruction

of deaf mutes. It is quite a new system, and consists in teaching them

to read from the lips of persons speaking to them the words that they

are saying. The system is by no means difficult for those who have

still, like your daughter, the power of speech, and who have lost only

their hearing. But even those born deaf and dumb have learned to be able

to converse to a certain degree, though their voices are never quite

natural, for in nine cases out of ten deaf mutes are mutes only because

they have never learned to use their tongue. However, happily that is

beside the question in your daughter's case. I hope that she will regain

her hearing; but should this unfortunately not be the case, it will at

least be a great mitigation to her position to be able to read from the

lips of those who address her what is said, and therefore to converse

like an ordinary person. I can assure you that many of Herr Menzel's

pupils can converse so easily and rapidly that no one would have the

least idea of the misfortune from which they suffer, as in fact they

feel no inconvenience beyond the fact that they are not aware of being

addressed by anyone standing behind them, or whose face they do not

happen to be watching."

"That would indeed be a blessing!" Mrs. Covington exclaimed. "I never

heard of such a system."

"No, it is quite new, but as to its success there can be no question. I

called upon Professor Menzel last evening. He said that as your daughter

did not understand German the difficulties of her tuition would be very

great. He has, however, among his pupils a young English girl two years

older than your daughter. She lives with a maiden aunt, who has

established herself here in order that her niece might have the benefit

of learning the new system. Here is her name and address. The professor

has reason to believe that her income is a small one, and imagines that

she would gladly receive your daughter as a boarder. Her niece, who is a

bright girl, would be a pleasant companion, and, moreover, having in the

two years that she has been here made very great progress, she would be

able to commence your daughter's education by conversing with her in

English, and could act as her teacher in German also; and so soon as the

language was fairly mastered your daughter could then become a pupil of

the professor himself."

"That would be an excellent plan indeed," Mrs. Covington said, and her

husband fully agreed with her. The doctor handed her a slip of paper

with the name, "Miss Purcell, 2nd Etage, 5 Koenigstrasse."

Hilda had already been informed by the finger alphabet, which had been

her means of communication since her illness, of the result of the

conversation with the doctor on the previous day, and although she had

cried at the thought of being separated from her father and mother, she

had said that she would willingly bear anything if there was a hope of

her regaining her hearing. She had watched earnestly the conversation

between the doctor and her parents, and when the former had left and

they explained what was proposed, her face brightened up.

"That will be very nice," she exclaimed, "and if I could but learn to

understand in that way what people say, instead of watching their

fingers (and some of them don't know the alphabet, and some who do are

so slow that one loses all patience), it would be delightful."

Before going to see Miss Purcell, Mr. and Mrs. Covington talked the

matter over together, and they agreed that, if Miss Purcell were the

sort of person with whom Hilda could be happy, no plan could be better

than that proposed.

"It certainly would not be nice for her," Mrs. Covington said, "to be

living on a second floor in a street; she has always been accustomed to

be so much in the open air, and as the doctors all agree that much

depends upon her general health, I am sure it will be quite essential

that she should be so now. I think that we should arrange to take some

pretty little house with a good garden, just outside the town, and

furnish it, and that Miss Purcell and her niece should move in there. Of

course we should pay a liberal sum for board, and if she would agree, I

should say that it would be best that we should treat the house as ours

and should pay the expenses of keeping it up altogether. I don't suppose

she keeps a servant at present, and there are many little luxuries that

Hilda has been accustomed to. Then, of course, we would pay so much to

the niece for teaching Hilda German and beginning to teach her this

system. I don't suppose the whole thing would cost more than three

hundred pounds a year."

"The expense is nothing," Mr. Covington said. "We could afford it if it

were five times the amount. I think your idea is a very good one, and we

could arrange for her to have the use of a pony-carriage for two or

three hours a day whenever she was disposed. The great thing is for her

to be healthy and happy."

Ten minutes after they started with Hilda to see Miss Purcell, after

having explained to her the plan they proposed. At this she was greatly

pleased. The thought of a little house all to themselves and a girl

friend was a great relief to her, and she looked brighter and happier

than she had done since she had lost her hearing. When they knocked at

the door of the apartment on the second floor, it was opened by a

bright-faced girl of thirteen.

"This is Miss Purcell's, is it not?" Mrs. Covington asked.

"Yes, ma'am," the girl replied, with a slight expression of surprise

which showed that visitors were very rare.

"Will you give my card to her and say that we shall be glad if she will

allow us a few minutes' conversation with her?"

The girl went into the room and returned in a minute or two. "Will you

come in?" she said. "My aunt will be glad to see you."

Miss Purcell was a woman of some fifty years old, with a pleasant,

kindly face. The room was somewhat poorly furnished, but everything was

scrupulously neat and tidy, and there was an air of comfort pervading

it.

"We have called, Miss Purcell," Mrs. Covington began, "in consequence of

what we have learned from Dr. Hartwig, whom we have come over to

consult, and who has been good enough to see Professor Menzel. He has

learned from him that your niece here is acquiring the system of

learning to understand what is said by watching the lips of speakers.

The doctor is of opinion that our daughter may in time outgrow the

deafness that came on a year ago, after scarlet fever, but he wishes her

to remain under his eye, and he suggested that it would be well that she

should learn the new system, so that in case she does not recover her

hearing she would still be able to mingle with other people. Hilda is

delicate, and it is necessary that she should have a cheerful home;

besides which she could not begin to learn the system until she had

become familiar with German. The doctor suggested that if we could

persuade you to do us the great kindness of taking her under your charge

it would be the best possible arrangement."

"I should be glad to do so, madam, but I fear that I could not

accommodate her, for it is a mere closet that my niece sleeps in, and

the other apartments on this floor are all occupied. Were it not for

that I should certainly be glad to consider the matter. It would be

pleasant to Netta to have a companion, for it is but dull work for her

alone with me. We have few acquaintances. I do not mind saying frankly

that my means are straitened, and that I cannot indulge her with many

pleasures. She is a grandniece of mine; her father died some years ago,

her mother three years since, and naturally she came to me. Shortly

after, she lost her hearing through measles. Just at that time I

happened to hear from a German workman of the institution which had been

started in this town, of which he was a native. I had no ties in

England, and as I heard that living was cheap there, and that the fees

were not large, I decided to come over and have her taught this new

system, which would not only add greatly to her own happiness, but would

give her the means of earning her livelihood when she grew up; for

although I have a small pension, as my father was an Excise officer,

this, of course, will expire at my death."

"Happily, Miss Purcell, we are in a position to say that money is no

object to us. Hilda is our only child. We have talked it over, of

course, and will tell you exactly what we propose, and I hope that you

will fall in with the arrangement."

She then stated the plan that she and her husband had discussed.

"You see," she went on, "you would, in fact, be mistress of the house,

and would have the entire management of everything as if it was your

own. We are entirely ignorant of the cost of living here, or we might

have proposed a fixed monthly payment for the expenses of servants and

outgoings, and would still do that if you would prefer it, though we

thought that it would be better that you should, at the end of each

month, send us a line saying what the disbursements had been. We would

wish everything done on a liberal scale. Hilda has little appetite, and

it will, for a time, want tempting. However, that matter we could leave

to you. We propose to pay a hundred a year to you for your personal

services as mistress of the house, and fifty pounds to your niece as

Hilda's companion and instructor in German and in the system, until she

understands the language well enough to attend Professor Menzel's

classes. If the house we take has a stable we should keep a pony and a

light carriage, and a big lad or young man to look after it and drive,

and to keep the garden in order in his spare time. I do hope, Miss

Purcell, that you will oblige us by falling in with our plans. If you

like we can give you a day to consider them."

"I do not require a minute," she replied; "my only hesitation is because

the terms that you offer are altogether too liberal."

"That is our affair," Mrs. Covington said. "We want a comfortable, happy

home for our child, and shall always feel under a deep obligation to you

if you will consent."

"I do consent most willingly and gratefully. The arrangement will be a

delightful one for me, and I am sure for Netta."

Netta, who had been standing where she could watch the lips of both

speakers, clapped her hands joyously. "Oh, auntie, it will be splendid!

Fancy having a house, and a garden, and a pony-chaise!"

"You understand all we have been saying then, Netta?"

"I understand it all," the girl replied. "I did not catch every word,

but quite enough to know all that you were saying."

"That certainly is a proof of the goodness of the system," Mr. Covington

said, speaking for the first time. "How long have you been learning?"

"Eighteen months, sir. We have been here two years, but I was six months

learning German before I knew enough to begin, and for the next six

months I could not get on very fast, as there were so many words that I

did not know, so that really I have only been a year at it. The

professor says that in another year I shall be nearly perfect and fit to

begin to teach; and he has no doubt that he will be able to find me a

situation where I can teach in the daytime and still live with my aunt."

In a week the necessary arrangements were all made. A pretty, furnished

house, a quarter of a mile out of town, with a large garden and stables,

had been taken, and Netta and Hilda had already become friends, for as

the former had learned to talk with her fingers before she came out she

was able to keep up her share of the conversation by that means while

Hilda talked in reply.

"The fingers are useful as a help at first," Netta said, "but Professor

Menzel will not allow any of his pupils to use their fingers, because

they come to rely upon them instead of watching the lips."

The Lost Heir · 第 3 / 26 章