A few weeks after the events related in the last chapter, as Mrs.
Battleby was helping her wretched drudge to wash up the miscellaneous
assortment of plates, dishes, cups, saucers and tumblers, sent down by
her various lodgers, and harrying the girl’s soul out, by constant
adjurations to make more haste, she was startled by the sound of a
loud double knock on the front door.
“Now! ’oo on hearth can that be calling at this time o’ night?” she
exclaimed testily, as she wiped her hands on her canvas apron. “’Ere,
’Liza, ’and me over that clean apron _do_, and don’t stand gaping at
me there! I declare, you put me ever so much in mind of that great,
hulking fool, Hannah Stubbs, which I’ve never forgiven ’er mother to
this day for putting her upon me! It might be some one arter the
hattics, for I’ve known ’em to come, when pressed, as late as ten
o’clock at night. Now! go on with your washing-up, and don’t be
a’follerin’ me to hear what they may say, for it’s no concern of yourn
any way.”
Saying which, Mrs. Battleby left the lower regions and ascended to
answer the hall door.
It was a dark night, and all she could distinguish at first was, that
a female figure stood on the door steps.
“Who do you please to want, Ma’am?” she inquired.
“Is Mrs. Battleby at home?” asked the stranger, in her turn.
“Yes! Ma’am, I be Mrs. Battleby, but if it’s rooms as you want, I’ve
none to let but the hattics, which was occupied last by a gentleman of
very high degree!”
“Lor! Mrs. Battleby! I don’t believe you know me!” exclaimed the
visitor, as she pushed her way into the passage, and leant up against
the wall, laughing.
“Why, it’s never!--No! it can’t never be--_Hannah Stubbs!_” cried Mrs.
Battleby, too much astounded to be angry at being taken in.
“Yes! it is,” replied Hannah, still laughing, “but I ain’t Hannah
Stubbs no longer, Mrs. Battleby! I’m a married lady now, and able to
hold my own with anybody. But ain’t you a’going to arsk me to take a
chair? Ain’t the parlours vacant? Can’t we go in there?”
“The parlours!” repeated the landlady, with a sneer. “Well! I wonder
what we’re coming to, next! I should ’ave thought as the kitchen was
good enough for you, Hannah Stubbs, though you _be_ married!”
“Well! then, let me tell you, Mrs. Battleby as it ain’t! And I’ll
thank you not to call me out of my name. I’m married to a nobleman,
and I’ll stick up for my rights. ‘My lady’ is the proper way for you
to address me, Mrs. Battleby! I’m a Markiness!”
“A _what!_” exclaimed Mrs. Battleby, as she pushed her visitor into
the back parlour, which lacked an inmate. “Are you mocking me, Hannah,
or ’ave you gone clean off your chump? A markiness! You must be daft!
They belongs to the highest of the haristocracy. What ’ave you been
a’doing of, since you left this ’ouse?”
As she lighted the gas, and was enabled to have a good look at her
late slavey, the landlady perceived there was a great difference in
her appearance. Hannah wore the famous apple-green merino, with a silk
mantle over it--a small black bonnet, crowned with scarlet poppies,
and a pair of brown silk gloves. Altogether, though she did not look
like a marchioness, she had the appearance of a very respectable
servant.
“And now do tell me the rights of all this, for you’ve took my breath
away,” said Mrs. Battleby. “What’s become of the poor Professor, and
his friend the Doctor, and ’ave you left them for good, and where are
you living now?”
She pushed Hannah into a chair and took one opposite herself, so eager
was she to learn how this wonderful transformation scene had come
about.
The Marchesa di Sorrento was wonderfully self-possessed. She drew off
her silk gloves and folded them neatly on her lap--placed her umbrella
in a safe position--and settled herself down for a good talk.
“I have not left the Sig-nor at all, Mrs. Battleby,” she commenced;
“we’ve been married for a long time now, and our ’ouse is at
’Ampstead.”
“The Sig-nor has _married_ you!” exclaimed the landlady, gasping in
her surprise. “Why! I allays thought as ’e was a real gentleman!
Actually _married_ you! Well! wonders never cease!”
“A real gentleman,” cried Hannah, sharply, “I should think he was--a
better gentleman than you’ll ever ’ave in your attics agen, Mrs.
Battleby. He’s more than a gentleman, a good deal! He’s a real
Markiss! What do you think of that! The Markiss dee Sorrento! And I’m
a Markiness! The Markiness dee Sorrento! And that’s why you’ll ’ave to
call me ‘my lady’ if ever you speaks to me agen, Mrs. Battleby.”
“I don’t believe as I could ever find it on my tongue to do it,
Hannah--not if you was to give me a ’undred pounds,” said the
landlady, as she sank back in her chair with surprise.
“Are you satisfied I speak the truth,” asked Hannah, presently, “or
must I bring the Markiss here to tell you so, himself? He was always a
Markiss, of course, but he didn’t choose to let on to you about it.
But as soon as we was married, he told me the truth! It was a fine
surprise for me, as you may be sure, but I’m quite accustomed to it
now.”
“And he actually married you--that quiet old gentleman! Well! if you’d
told me marriage was in his line, I’d ’ave said you was quite mistook.
And the Doctor--what did ’e say to it, eh, Hannah?--I mean--my lady!”
“You don’t go to suppose as we asked the Doctor’s leave, or anybody
else’s?” replied the Markiness, with a fine scorn; “the Markiss was
old enough to know his own mind, I s’pose! And the Doctor ain’t a
doctor any longer either! He’s a Baron--the Baron von Steinberg, and
’as come into a big fortune of thousands and thousands of pounds a
year.”
“O! you don’t go to tell me as the Doctor’s a haristocrat, too?” cried
Mrs. Battleby, who felt as if all her old acquaintances had suddenly
drifted from her into realms above. “’E who was such a nice-speaking
young gentleman! A Baron! Well! I never! And money into the bargain!
No wonder as they both left the hattics!”
“The Baron ’as a lovely ’ouse in Portland Place,” continued Hannah,
“the most beautiful ’ouse as you ever see--all statues and pictures
and flowering plants. You can’t ’ear your feet in ’is carpets, and ’e
keeps ten or twelve servants. He’s rolling in riches, is the Baron.”
“My!” gasped Mrs. Battleby, too exhausted by astonishment to be able
to say any more.
“And you, my dear,” she resumed, after a pause, “’ow do you git on
with the cooking and that? The Sig-nor, ’e wasn’t very particular, but
if I remembers rightly, you didn’t know nothink of cooking, or of much
else when you fust come to me--did you?”
“No! nor now either,” responded Hannah, with her grandest air, “I ’ave
no call to do anything of the sort. My servant does all that for me!”
“_Your servant!_ Lor! and you keep a servant!” echoed the landlady. “I
never! But in coorse the Sig-nor, being a Markiss, would now, wouldn’t
’e? And ’ave you told all this to your pore mother and father, who
’ave been sadly about you, ever since you runned away from me!”
“No! Mrs. Battleby, and don’t mean to, neither! You don’t suppose as
the Markiss would let such people as my mother and father come about
the ’ouse! It would bemean his rank! They carst me off and they must
keep to theirselves--as well as that ill-mannered young man Joseph
Brushwood! I wouldn’t stop to speak to ’em, not if I met ’em in the
road.”
“Well! Hannah, you ’ave grown ’igh,” replied the other, “but I ’opes
as you’ve given up all them sperrits and devils and things as beset
you ’ere. The Markiss won’t allow them about ’im, I expect!”
“You only says that because you’re so ignorant, Mrs. Battleby,” said
the Markiness, tossing her head; “those who know about the matter says
they’re Science, and all the aristocracy are running after them like
mad! They call them ‘angels’ not ‘devils’, and they _do_ say,”
continued the girl, lowering her voice, and bending towards the
landlady, “that Royalty’s crazy about it, too, and that if I chose to
go to the Palace and show ’em what I can do, that I should be made a
duchess in my own right!”
“O! Hannah--my lady--don’t you go for to do it!” cried Mrs. Battleby,
“for what’s the good of being a duchess, if the Devil ’as got hold of
you! Better remain as you are--a plain markiness! O! I ’ad ’oped as
you’d given it all up and lived quiet and sober, like a married woman
should!”
“O! that would never do!” replied Hannah, “Why! do you know, Mrs.
Battleby, as it’s the best thing I’ve got! The Baron says I’m the
grandest medium in the land, and there ain’t another as can make the
sperrits walk out so soon, and so nateral like! His friends is all mad
to meet me, and I’m to go to ’is ’ouse next week, and sit for the
Russian Ambassador, and the Duke of Standingstone, and two foreign
Princes! Sometimes I wish I hadn’t been so quick to take the Markiss,
for I should ’ave ’ad no end of chances, if I ’adn’t been a married
lady!”
“Ah! well! I ’opes it will all end satisfactory,” sighed Mrs.
Battleby, “but it don’t seem right to me! Sperrits is sperrits all the
world over, which we’re told not to meddle with in holy Scriptur, and
I should never be surprised to ’ear as they’d taken you away with
’orns and a tail and a smell of brimstone!”
“I ain’t afeared of that!” said Hannah, “the sperrits are more afraid
of me than I am of them!”
“Of _you_--who used to shriek if you saw ’em!” replied her companion,
incredulously.
“I know! but they says as use is second natur. Anyways, I don’t mind
’em one pin now! The Doctor says they ’ave seen the most wonderfullest
things through me--his dead patients and others--and that if anythink
’appened to the Markiss, my mediumship would be worth its weight in
gold. So I’m not going to throw it away--you bet!”
“O! well! and I’m not the one to blame yer. We must all look arter
ourselves in this world. But ’ow improved you are in your speaking, my
dear! ’Ave you been to school since the Sig-nor married you?”
“Am I improved?” demanded Hannah, with a look of surprise; “I don’t
see any difference myself! P’r’aps it’s talking so much with my
’usband--not that the Markiss is a great talker, but still I don’t
hear anyone else.”
“You are altered in many ways,” continued the landlady, thoughtfully,
“you’ve lost the scared look you used to ’ave on your face, and the
dull look too, I may say, for we never considered you over-bright, you
know, Hannah! But now--I ain’t good at describing--but you seem to me
to have wakened up, as if you’d seen a lot of the world and its ways.
And it’s improved you, Hannah--wonderful!”
“I’m glad of that,” replied the markiness, “for now that I am a lady,
I has to speak like one. Well! I’ll say good-night to you now, Mrs.
Battleby, for I must be going ’ome! But I thought, as you’d known the
Markiss for so long, you’d like to hear the news, and that we’re all
so ’appy together!”
Hannah had risen to go, but Mrs. Battleby detained her for a moment.
“You ’aven’t told me nothing of the Sig-nor’s ’ealth,” she said; “’as
’e got rid of them dreadful fainty attacks as used to take ’im
sometimes, when ’e lived with me?”
“No! not quite! He had one yesterday. The Baron says it’s ’is ’eart,
and that ’e’s ’ad it a long time. But all we ’ave to do is to be
careful, and ’e’ll last as long as any.”
“And may I come up and see you some day, Hannah--my lady?” inquired
the landlady. “I should like to ’ave a look at the Sig-nor, I must
say.”
The Markiness dee Sorrento hesitated.
“I s’pose I must say ‘yes’, Mrs. Battleby, because of old times, but
you must please not to call me ‘Hannah’ before my servant, or she may
think it disrespectful. I ’ope you understand the motive!”
“O! yes, my lady--certainly, my lady!” replied Mrs. Battleby, as she
curtsied the newly-made peeress out at the hall door, and retreated to
the kitchen again, to try and solve the marvellous riddle which had
been presented to her.
Meanwhile the marchioness took an omnibus back to Hampstead, where she
found Karl von Steinberg, who had been home about a week, in close
conversation with her husband.
“I am trying to combat Ricardo’s objection to your giving my friends a
séance next week, Hannah!” he said, as she appeared, “but he is very
obstinate! He seems to imagine that if your powers are made public,
they will deteriorate in some way. I--on the contrary--think they will
improve with practice, always provided that we see you are not
overtaxed. And _I_ shall be present to prevent that! I have not given
up being a doctor, at all events for the benefit of my friends, though
I have become a Baron!”
“Of course not!” replied Hannah, “and I’ve told the Markiss so a
hundred times! Haven’t the sperrits said the same thing? They’re more
likely to desert me, if I disobey their orders. Don’t waste no more
time over the Markiss, Baron! I’m going to give your friends that
séance next week, and as many more as you choose--so there’s an end
of the matter!”
“But we must follow your husband’s wishes in this respect, Hannah,”
said Von Steinberg. “I should not enjoy the séance, for one, if he
disapproved of your giving it! He will never shut me out from your
home sittings, I am sure, and if he is determined, my friends must go
without it, or get another medium to sit for them!”
“And where will they find another like me?” replied Hannah, with that
strange look in her eyes--half sensual and half cunning--which he had
noticed before his departure for Germany. “You know yourself there is
not such another in the country! No! I shall sit at your house next
week, whatever any one says. Besides, if I do not, Leonora will not
come again, and how will you like that, Markiss?”
“Did she tell you so?” cried Ricardo, in alarm.
“Indeed, she did! She says my gift was given me for the good of
humanity and not merely to gratify your selfish wish to see her
again.”
“O! I will not--I will not--be selfish then,” exclaimed the poor
Professor. “Von Steinberg, she is right! This wonderful gift was never
intended to be hidden under a bushel! I give my consent to her using
it for the benefit of mankind. But--if you will forgive me--I will
remain at home! I could not bear to see my Leonora disporting her
lovely form for strangers to gaze at. No! let Hannah wait upon your
friends, and I will stay here until my Angel deigns to come to me
again.”
“But why should Leonora appear at all in my house, Ricardo?”
remonstrated his friend, “if you do not care to attend the séance,
you can at least bring your wife to my house and take her home.”
“No! no! I would rather that she went alone!” persisted the Professor.
“O! let him be!” cried Hannah, impatiently, “if the markiss has got a
crotchet in his head, it’ll take more than you and me to dig it out
again. It’ll be his own loss--not ours!”
At this Ricardo rose, and, without another word, walked up stairs to
his own room.
“You are wrong, Hannah,” remarked Von Steinberg, “you have no right to
speak before your husband like that! You should be doubly forbearing
towards him just now, for I don’t think he is well.”
“What’s the matter with him?” asked the girl.
“His heart is weaker than usual, and he has other disorders which
complicate it. I think your determination to assume his title has
worried him more than you imagine. It rouses unpleasant memories in
him, and keeps the Past always before his eyes. Besides, it is not
yours to use! It was confiscated years ago by the Italian Government,
and does not belong to Ricardo himself any longer!”
“O! that’s rubbish!” cried Hannah, “it wasn’t lawful of them to take
it away, and so it’s his still! Besides, what ’arm does it do to
anybody, my calling myself a markiness? It’s little enough I got by
marrying ’im, I’m sure! He needn’t grudge me that!”
“You got an honest, brave, honourable gentleman, Hannah, which is a
thing to be proud of!”
“But it won’t do me ’alf the good that being called ‘my lady’ will,
all the same,” replied Hannah, with one of her cunning looks. “I mean
to make my way in the world, Baron, for he won’t leave me much butter
for my bread, and it’s the only crutch I’ve got to walk with! It’ll go
down better than money with ’alf the fools I meet.”
“I think you’re a very clever woman,” said Von Steinberg, regarding
her with admiration. “I had no idea when I first saw you, that you had
such a quick wit and brain. And you are improving fast in your manner
of talking! If it were not for dropping an _h_ now and then, when you
get excited, you might really hold your own with many a lady in the
land!”
“I mean to, too, you bet!” said Hannah. “I ain’t--I mean, I
haven’t--married an old man for nothing! I’ve got something to set
against his age, eh, Doctor? And if you’ll stand my friend, and
introduce me to some of the big people at your séances, you see if my
‘wonderful gift’ (as you call it) won’t land me some day in unexpected
places.”
“By Jove! I believe you’re sharp enough for anything,” exclaimed Von
Steinberg, “and if I can help you, I will! But it must be with
Ricardo’s consent.”
“Didn’t you hear him give it? He’d sell me to the Devil, if it would
bring his Leonora to him! He doesn’t care a hang about me! He only
cares for her!”
“You mustn’t say that!” replied Von Steinberg, though he believed it
to be true.
“And I’ll tell you a secret, Doctor! I don’t believe that Leonora will
come to him much longer, either! She’s pretty well sick of being
prayed and slobbered over, and called an angel! She wasn’t an
angel--not by no manner of means--and it wearies her! She liked life,
did Leonora--domestic happiness wasn’t in her line at all.”
“I believe you are correct there,” replied the Doctor.
“And can’t you see how sitting by himself, night after night, is
drawing all the strength out of the Markiss. It doesn’t signify about
_my_ strength--he has never thought about that--so long as he can see
Leonora--but it’ll chaw him up before long, if he don’t look out.
It’ll be for his good to take me away a bit--mark my words!”
“By Jove! you’re right again,” replied her companion, “and it is
wonderful I did not perceive the danger to him before! You’ve done
Ricardo a great benefit by your astuteness, my dear, and I shall not
fail to tell him so! But you are sure you have not hurt yourself! You
do not feel at all weak, or ill--not as if a tonic, or stimulant of
any kind, would do you good?”
“O! no! Doctor, I’m all right, thank you,” said Hannah, smiling at the
anxiety depicted in his face; “only you get me to your fine house and
it’ll do me all the good in the world!”
“I am delighted to think that you are coming,” said Von Steinberg,
“and, Hannah, at this or any time, remember that anything I may have,
or can procure, is at your service! I can never sufficiently thank you
for the grand insight you have given me, through your mediumship, to
the truth of Immortality, and anything I could do for you in return I
should esteem a great favour!
“And now one word of advice, my dear girl, which I know you are too
sensible to resent. Try to correct the few errors of grammar which you
still retain, and the sooner will you gain admittance into the houses
you aspire to be invited to, on an equal footing with their owners.”
Hannah stood, for a moment, as if dumbfoundered.
“I don’t get on as fast as I should, do I?” she said at length. “It
seems queer, but there’s something in my tongue as won’t sound some
words. I s’pose it’s all habit, and I haven’t much opportunity for
improving myself now!”
“How’s that?”
“Why, the markiss has gone dumb! ’E never opens ’is mouth ’ardly from
morning till night! ’Ow is a girl to learn anything from him? I can
read a little, you know, Doctor, but not enough to improve myself, and
I carn’t go back to school, now I’m a markiness!”
“No! you’re too old for that! Well! we must see what we can do
together, Hannah, you and I! Your husband is out almost all day, so I
could come over here sometimes, and give you a lesson in conversation,
that is, if you really wish to learn.”
“I’d like to learn Italian with you,” said Hannah, softly.
Von Steinberg stared.
“Italian, my dear! What are you talking of? I think we had better get
on with a little English first! When shall it be? Shall I come up
to-morrow morning and begin our studies?”
Hannah approached him, and laid her hand gently on his arm.
“I shall like to learn with you!” she said, softly, in the same voice
she had used a moment before. “You are good. I feel it! I shall love
you for your kindness to me.”
Karl von Steinberg started away from her, as if he had been stung.
What was the expression in her face, which had so improved its
expression? Rough Hannah Stubbs seemed to have gone away, and a
gentle-featured, alluring woman to have stepped into her place. Her
eyes, always beautiful, glowed with gratitude and sensibility--her
touch was tender--her smile had become plaintive and appealing.
The doctor shook off her grasp rather rudely than otherwise, and,
rising, declared it was time he returned home, and left the cottage
without another word.