A FEW LONDON PRICES.
I have not, as yet, said anything about what I meant to do on
reaching London, and how I intended to support myself; but it must
not, therefore, be supposed that I had not carefully considered, and
fully made up my mind upon that important matter. Various ways by
which a young woman in my position might earn her livelihood had
suggested themselves to me; and, after mature deliberation, I had
selected the avocations of daily-governess, shop-assistant, or
travelling-maid, as being those in which I was most likely to
succeed.
This reduced the limits of my choice to three. For awhile I remained
uncertain to which of the three I should give the preference, but
finally came to the conclusion that the latter was the one for which
I was best fitted by my gifts--both natural and acquired. Lack of
training would, of course, make it foolish for me to think of
undertaking the place of an ordinary stay-at-home lady's-maid, but
that training was by no means so essential for a travelling Abigail.
What would be chiefly wanted for such a situation was, a knowledge of
languages, a good head, a capacity for looking after luggage, and
such abilities as would enable the maid to supply the place of
courier whenever necessary; and in all these respects I had little
fear of being capable of giving satisfaction to any employer. As far
as needlework was concerned, I could do plain sewing well enough;
and though I did not know how to make dresses, yet I anticipated
no difficulty on that score, because, as it would evidently be
unreasonable to expect a servant to have cultivated both brains and
fingers alike, therefore proficiency in an inferior art, like
dressmaking, was not to be looked for in a person who had studied the
far higher branch of knowledge--languages. And, besides that, people
did not generally want to have clothes made when they were on their
travels.
There was another part of a lady's-maid's business which was much
more likely to be required, and of which, also, I was at present
ignorant; and that was hairdressing. But that was a deficiency which
could easily be remedied by some lessons from a good hairdresser; and
the first thing that I meant to do in London was to inquire for an
artist of this kind, and become his pupil until I had learnt from him
enough of the art to fit me for a maid's place. Of course, paying for
the lessons, and finding myself meanwhile in board and lodging, would
cost money--and expense was a consideration that was on no account to
be overlooked. But I was prepared to practise strict economy; and,
what with the contents of Kitty Mervyn's purse and my own, I had
enough to live upon for some weeks at least, and did not doubt that
my resources would hold out till I should have learnt sufficient
hairdressing for my purpose. Altogether I believed that I should make
a capital travelling-maid; and it was an occupation especially
attractive to me, because well adapted to gratify my taste for much
change and amusement.
One thing which I did during the journey to London was to effect a
considerable change in my appearance. The more I could make myself
look unlike what I had been when I left home, the greater would be my
security against pursuit, and I did not neglect the opportunity
for doing this which was afforded by the solitude of the railway
carriage. I had not got the materials for a complete disguise, but a
good deal may be done with a different neck-wrap and pair of gloves,
and a brush, comb, needle and thread. These things I had stowed
away in my bag, and by their aid I soon contrived sufficiently to
alter my exterior to make it unlikely that I should be identified
as corresponding to any description that might be given of the
Gilbertina Trecastle who had seen off her governess at Sparkton
Station.
By the time we reached London night had set in. As we steamed slowly
into the spacious and brilliantly lit-up terminus, the bustling,
animated scene which I beheld gave me a thrill of delight, and a
pleasant sense of having undoubtedly got away from the tranquil
duck-pond where I had been vegetating, and having entered the rushing
stream of life--a stream which tolerates none of the slimy scum and
weed that are apt to accumulate on the surface of stagnation, but
speedily washes away every vestige of them.
I saw railway officials of various grades hurrying to and fro, and
all intent on some business or other. Loud shouts for hansoms and
fourwheelers began to echo through the glazed walls of the great
station even before the train had stopped. Porters swarmed at the
windows of carriages still in motion, jumped on to the steps, opened
the doors, commenced taking out hand-bags, wraps, umbrellas, and
similar small articles, reiterated eager exclamations of "Cab, sir?
Cab, mum? Any luggage? Where from?" etc., and vied with one another
in pressing their services upon all passengers from whom a tip was
likely to be expected. Under this head the occupants of third-class
carriages were evidently not included, and not one of the offers of
assistance that were being lavished so freely in other directions
fell to my share, as I emerged from my compartment with the bag that
contained all my goods in my hand. It was a neglect, however, which I
certainly did not wish altered under the circumstances, as the less
notice I attracted, the better was my chance of evading any enquiries
that might subsequently be made about me.
It was too late that night to set about hunting for a lodging, but
as hotels are usually to be found in close proximity to railway
stations, I had no fear of having to go far for a bed. I was not
mistaken in this confidence. No sooner had I got into the street
than I saw just before me an immense building with the words RAILWAY
HOTEL flaring in large coloured letters upon a gas transparency over
the door; and underneath this inscription was another, in smaller
sized letters, stating that within this magnificent hotel travellers
of all classes were supplied with every comfort and luxury at
extremely moderate prices.
Turning my steps thither, I entered through the open doors into a
large, softly-carpeted, handsomely-furnished hall, where a porter in
a gorgeous livery and sundry waiters were lounging about and talking.
To one of these I addressed myself, requesting to be shown a room
for the night, and adding that I wished it to be as inexpensive a
one as possible. My request was referred to the presiding genius
in the hall, who was an elegantly attired young lady, with the most
nonchalant expression of countenance that it was ever my fortune to
behold. She was deeply engaged in a book; but on being spoken to she
put it down, glanced at a list of rooms, rang a bell, uttered
oracularly the single word "18," then resumed her volume, and at once
became as deeply absorbed in it again as though her studies had never
been interrupted at all.
Meanwhile, one of her satellites conducted me up innumerable stairs
to the chamber assigned to me--lowness of price and of situation
being in the usual inverse proportions. At last we arrived at No. 18,
which proved to be a room small enough to have done duty as a convent
cell, and scantily furnished with a table, a chair, a cracked and
fly-spotted little looking-glass, a washing-stand, a tiny chest of
drawers, and a short narrow bedstead, whereon was an abominably hard
and fusty-smelling mattress.
The charge for one night's occupation of this palatial apartment was
5s., and for that sum one would have supposed that a little civility
from the hotel servants might well have been thrown into the bargain,
without there being any danger of the visitor's receiving an unfair
amount of return for the money spent. Such, however, was by no means
the opinion of the waiters and chambermaids, who were at no pains
to hide the supreme scorn with which they were inspired by the
spectacle of a traveller attempting to combine hotel-life with
economy. To their minds the two things evidently were, and ought to
be, absolutely incompatible; and I am inclined to think that they
deemed it one of the objects for which they had been put into the
world, to make that incompatibility as plainly apparent as possible.
Fortunately for me, I was as little affected by their contempt as I
was by the indifferent quality of the accommodation provided. Neither
the nasty smell of my couch nor its hardness, nor yet the sense of
being an object of scorn to a pack of waiters and chambermaids, had
power to interfere with my repose; for I slept soundly all night, and
awoke in the morning as much refreshed as though I had tenanted the
most luxurious room imaginable. Observing a tariff of hotel prices
hanging up over the washing-stand, I proceeded to read it as soon as
I was dressed. From this document I learnt that a single cup of tea
or coffee was to be had for 6d. (would that include milk and sugar? I
wondered), and that the cost of a breakfast, consisting of tea or
coffee and bread and butter, was 1s. 6d. Not bad that, thought I,
for a place which professes to supply every comfort and luxury at
extremely moderate prices! I should rather like to know what is the
landlord's idea of _im_moderate ones.
Paying for food at this rate was not exactly consistent with the
rigid economy which my circumstances imposed upon me, so I sallied
forth to procure breakfast elsewhere. This was not difficult to
accomplish, as there was a tidy little restaurant only two doors off,
where, for the sum of 6d., I was supplied with coffee, a good-sized
roll, and a pat of butter--all of excellent quality. The small round
table on which the food was served was destitute of a cloth, but
quite clean; and I ate my meal with as hearty a relish, and enjoyed
it every bit as much, as though it had cost 150 per cent more, and
been consumed in the sumptuous coffee-room of the hotel.
The proprietor of the restaurant was an Italian. I was, just then,
his sole customer, and, as he did not seem particularly busy, I spoke
to him in his own language when I went to the counter to pay for my
breakfast, and asked him if he happened to know of any one who gave
lessons in hairdressing. The chance of a conversation in his native
tongue appeared to please him; for he became so communicative that I
think it would have needed but little encouragement on my part to
draw from him, there and then, the whole history of his life. With
some difficulty, however, I managed to check his confidences, and to
keep him to the point on which I required information.
Did he know any one to teach hairdressing? He must consider a moment.
Yes, to be sure! there was his friend, Monsieur Candot, a French
_parruchiére_, who could do hair, make frisettes, plaits, puffs,
curls, wigs, everything. He was not _certain_ that Monsieur Candot
gave lessons; but thought it highly probable.
Had Monsieur Candot much practice? I asked; because otherwise he
would not suit me, as I wished only to learn of a really high-class
and fashionable hairdresser. Then, seeing the Italian's face clouding
over at the idea of my venturing to doubt the superior talent of a
man whom he recommended and called his friend, I hastened to smooth
down his ruffled feelings by adding that I felt sure he would excuse
my asking the question, because--as he well knew--there were wigs and
wigs, and the mere fact of making them did not necessarily imply that
they were made well; that, in short, if it were permissible to take
liberties with Giusti's epigram about bookmaking, one might say--
"Il far' un' parrúcca è meno che niénte,
Se parrúcca fatte non piace la gente."
This pacified the Italian's rising ire. There could be no possible
doubt, he said, of his friend's wonderful talent. Monsieur Candot was
a genuine artist, who never executed any work of art that was not
first-rate, because, if it fell short of the perfection at which he
aimed, he would destroy it unhesitatingly, and make another and more
successful one in its place. His merit was appreciated everywhere; he
was in request in the very highest circles, and made wigs "_anche per
le duchesse_."
There was no resisting such a recommendation as this, so I procured
Monsieur Candot's address, and set off to find him. He resided in a
small street near Edgeware Road, and when I got to his abode I was
fortunate enough to find him disengaged, and to be admitted without
delay to his presence. I told him I was a maid who was anxious to
learn hairdressing, and asked if he gave lessons in that art. He
replied in the affirmative, saying also that he was constantly
having applications like mine, and that he had no doubt of being
able to make an expert _coiffeuse_ of me in about a month--however
ignorant of the matter I might now be. Was I going to take the
lessons on my own account, or was it by the wish of my mistress?
At the time I could not conceive what was the motive of this
question; but I subsequently discovered it to be, that his price for
lessons given to a maid at her mistress's expense was nearly double
what it was when the maid paid for them out of her own pocket. I, in
my present state of life, highly approved of this practice; and, as
my answer showed me to be entitled to the benefit of the lower rate
of payment, our terms were soon arranged, and the interview came to
a satisfactory termination.
So far, so good; and now to find myself a cheap habitation not far
from Monsieur Candot's residence. After wandering about for some time
in the neighbouring streets, I discovered a lodging that seemed
likely to be suitable. The landlady, however--either because a long
experience of lodgers had made her distrust them as a body, or else
because there was something she objected to in my appearance--did not
evince much eagerness to let her room. She hesitated and eyed me
doubtfully, demanding what was my name and occupation, and whether I
could pay a week in advance--_i.e._ fifteen shillings.
I had already determined that, whenever I should be asked for my
name, I would adopt the abbreviation that had been bestowed upon me
in my earliest years; so I replied that I was a lady's-maid called
Caroline Jill; that I had recently left a situation; and that I did
not intend looking out for another until I had had some hairdressing
lessons. And, as I spoke, I laid upon the table the rent in advance
which she had asked for.
There was nothing at all improbable in my story, and the sight of
the money gave her confidence, so she consented to receive me as a
lodger. I then bethought me that she would be almost sure to expect
a lady's-maid to be accompanied by at least one big box, and that her
distrust might very likely be reawakened at sight of the extremely
modest amount of luggage which I had to bring; so I mentioned,
casually, that I had left almost all my goods at home in the country,
and had only a very small bag with me, as it was so inconvenient to
be moving about with a lot of heavy things. And having thus prepared
her mind for the diminutive size of my bag, I set off to fetch it
from the hotel.
The hairdressing lessons were not to take place till the evenings,
or late in the afternoons, so that I should be idle during the
greater part of each day; and, as I returned to the hotel, I began
considering how to employ profitably all the spare time that I should
have on my hands. Evidently the thing to suit me would be a temporary
engagement as daily-governess, as I should then be adding to my
slender stock of money even whilst paying for Candot's instructions.
I would endeavour to get such an engagement as soon as possible; and,
in order to lose no time about it, I would go straight to the hotel
reading-room, where I should be sure to find the day's newspapers,
wherein I might perhaps meet with some advertisements that it would
be worth my while to answer.
On reaching the hotel, therefore, I turned along a passage over which
was a notice to the effect that it led to the reading-room. A waiter
outside stared at me with wrathful surprise, as if he thought that
the luxuries of that apartment were unlawful for any one badly off
for money, and that it was the height of presumption for so humble
a person as myself to attempt to enjoy them. But I knew well that
whoever stays at a hotel has a right to profit by its reading-room;
so I walked calmly in, without heeding his indignant looks. Daily
and weekly newspapers, journals, and periodicals of various kinds,
were spread on the table, and I proceeded diligently to study the
advertisements for daily governesses which they contained. It was not
every such place which would do for me, as I wanted one situated in
London, and where only morning work was required, therefore I had
some difficulty in discovering an advertisement that was at all
likely to suit. At last, however, I hit upon a couple in the _Morning
Post_ that seemed tolerably promising; and as it was too late to
think of going to apply for them on that day, I copied the addresses
for use on the morrow, and then left the room.
As I entered the hall on my way upstairs a gentleman who had come to
call upon some one staying at the hotel was in the act of leaving his
card. It was a strange coincidence that that particular individual
should have happened to be there at the very moment when I was
passing through; for I immediately saw that he was the original of
the mysterious photograph which had been put away so snugly in Miss
Mervyn's purse, and as to which I had felt inquisitive. Surely now I
should be able to gratify my curiosity so far as to find out his
name, I thought, and, so thinking, lingered in the hall in hopes of
an opportunity for attaining that object.
Not far from the door there were a lot of pigeon-holes for the
purpose of receiving any letters and cards that might arrive
for visitors at the hotel; and in one of these receptacles the
gentleman's card was deposited by the servant to whom he gave it.
This afforded me the chance I wanted. Pretending that I thought
there might be a letter for me, I went to the pigeon-holes and
inspected the bit of pasteboard just placed there, and thus learnt
that its owner's name was Edward Norroy, and that he was a captain
in the Fusiliers.
Well, that was _something_ to have discovered about him, certainly,
but not very much; I had never heard the name before, and was still
as far off as ever from knowing what he and Kitty had to do with one
another, and why she should care to carry his picture about in her
pocket. It was no business of mine, of course, as I very well knew.
Yet the singular attractiveness which she had for me made me feel
more interest in her concerns than in those of the generality of
human-kind. It was strange, too, considering that I had seen her but
twice in my life, and was by no means of an impressionable nature,
nor yet particularly inquisitive. But that did not prevent me from
speculating about her to an extent at which I myself was astonished;
I had an idea that I should like to be able to observe her, and study
her character.
Reflecting how queer it was to take so much interest in the affairs
of a person with whom I had absolutely nothing to do, and wondering
whether it did not show a tendency to reprehensible weak-mindedness,
I left the hall, and climbed up to my bedroom. I had very little
packing-up to get through, so I was soon ready to depart, and then I
rang the bell and asked for my bill.
It might, not unreasonably, have been supposed that the 5s. which was
the price of the room I had occupied would have fully paid for all
that I had had from the hotel, and left a pretty fair margin for
profit as well. Not so, however, was the opinion of the manager; for
a tiny foot-tub and jug of water which I had used to wash myself in
on rising were dignified in the bill by the name of "bath;" and for
that, and for "attendance," an extra half-crown was tacked on to my
expenses. I had had quite enough experience of hotel bills to know
that "attendance" was an inevitable item on them, and that it was
no use grumbling at the charge. Still, I had found the article so
unusually conspicuous by its absence in the present instance, that I
could not resist the desire I felt to give a little bit of my mind on
the subject to the chambermaid who had brought me the bill, and was
now waiting for its payment.
"What an odd thing it is," said I, gravely, "that _attendance_ and
_nothing_ should be two words that have precisely the same meaning.
Don't you think so?"
I spoke with the utmost seriousness, and I think that she imagined
I was going to dispute the bill. "Do I think what?" she returned,
pertly; "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Why," replied I, "if you look at this bill, you will see that
_attendance_ is charged just as if it were something extra which
had really been supplied to me; that is not the case, as you are
perfectly well aware, so the natural inference is that the word must
mean nothing, you see. Otherwise one would be obliged to suppose that
those three syllables had some special privilege attached to them
to enable hotelkeepers to rob people openly and with impunity; for
there certainly isn't any other article--such as dinner, wine,
drawing-room, etc.--which a visitor can be made to pay for if
he hasn't had it. I thought you might have been struck by the
singularity of this circumstance, but probably you are too much
accustomed to it to think it odd. Here's the money; I wish to have
the receipt as soon as possible, if you please."
The woman coloured angrily, and looked as if she had an uncivil reply
at the tip of her tongue. Just as I finished speaking, however, a
bell rang which she was called to go and answer, so she was compelled
to deny herself the pleasure of a retort. She hurried away, muttering
something about having no time to waste in listening to all the
rubbish that fools found time to talk; and the receipted bill was
presently brought to me by another of the servants.
Taking my little bag in my hand, I descended the stairs and bade
adieu to the grand Railway Hotel, without feeling the very slightest
inclination ever again to make proof of the accommodation which
it offered "at extremely moderate prices" to "travellers of all
classes." Yet I myself told lies unhesitatingly whenever I found
them convenient; so what right had I to complain of other people
for doing the same?