“Thursday.
“MY DEAR LYDIA--Some persons in my situation might be a little offended
at the tone of your last letter. But I am so fondly attached to you! And
when I love a person, it is so very hard, my dear, for that person to
offend me! Don’t ride quite so far, and only drink half a tumblerful of
claret next time. I say no more.
“Shall we leave off our fencing-match and come to serious matters now?
How curiously hard it always seems to be for women to understand each
other, especially when they have got their pens in their hands! But
suppose we try.
“Well, then, to begin with: I gather from your letter that you have
wisely decided to try the Thorpe Ambrose experiment, and to secure, if
you can, an excellent position at starting by becoming a member of Major
Milroy’s household. If the circumstances turn against you, and some
other woman gets the governess’s place (about which I shall have
something more to say presently), you will then have no choice but to
make Mr. Armadale’s acquaintance in some other character. In any case,
you will want my assistance; and the first question, therefore, to set
at rest between us is the question of what I am willing to do, and what
I can do, to help you.
“A woman, my dear Lydia, with your appearance, your manners, your
abilities, and your education, can make almost any excursions into
society that she pleases if she only has money in her pocket and a
respectable reference to appeal to in cases of emergency. As to the
money, in the first place. I will engage to find it, on condition of
your remembering my assistance with adequate pecuniary gratitude if you
win the Armadale prize. Your promise so to remember me, embodying the
terms in plain figures, shall be drawn out on paper by my own lawyer, so
that we can sign and settle at once when I see you in London.
“Next, as to the reference.
“Here, again, my services are at your disposal, on another condition. It
is this: that you present yourself at Thorpe Ambrose, under the name
to which you have returned ever since that dreadful business of your
marriage; I mean your own maiden name of Gwilt. I have only one motive
in insisting on this; I wish to run no needless risks. My experience,
as confidential adviser of my customers, in various romantic cases of
private embarrassment, has shown me that an assumed name is, nine times
out of ten, a very unnecessary and a very dangerous form of deception.
Nothing could justify your assuming a name but the fear of young
Armadale’s detecting you--a fear from which we are fortunately relieved
by his mother’s own conduct in keeping your early connection with her a
profound secret from her son and from everybody.
“The next, and last, perplexity to settle relates, my dear, to the
chances for and against your finding your way, in the capacity of
governess, into Major Milroy’s house. Once inside the door, with your
knowledge of music and languages, if you can keep your temper, you may
be sure of keeping the place. The only doubt, as things are now, is
whether you can get it.
“In the major’s present difficulty about his daughter’s education, the
chances are, I think, in favor of his advertising for a governess. Say
he does advertise, what address will he give for applicants to write to?
“If he gives an address in London, good-by to all chances in your favor
at once; for this plain reason, that we shall not be able to pick out
his advertisement from the advertisements of other people who want
governesses, and who will give them addresses in London as well. If, on
the other hand, our luck helps us, and he refers his correspondents to
a shop, post-office, or what not _at Thorpe Ambrose_, there we have our
advertiser as plainly picked out for us as we can wish. In this last
case, I have little or no doubt--with me for your reference--of your
finding your way into the major’s family circle. We have one great
advantage over the other women who will answer the advertisement. Thanks
to my inquiries on the spot, I know Major Milroy to be a poor man; and
we will fix the salary you ask at a figure that is sure to tempt him. As
for the style of the letter, if you and I together can’t write a modest
and interesting application for the vacant place, I should like to know
who can?
“All this, however, is still in the future. For the present my advice
is, stay where you are, and dream to your heart’s content, till you hear
from me again. I take in _The Times_ regularly, and you may trust my
wary eye not to miss the right advertisement. We can luckily give the
major time, without doing any injury to our own interests; for there
is no fear just yet of the girl’s getting the start of you. The public
reception, as we know, won’t be ready till near the end of the month;
and we may safely trust young Armadale’s vanity to keep him out of his
new house until his flatterers are all assembled to welcome him.
“It’s odd, isn’t it, to think how much depends on this half-pay
officer’s decision? For my part, I shall wake every morning now with
the same question in my mind: If the major’s advertisement appears, which
will the major say--Thorpe Ambrose, or London?
“Ever, my dear Lydia, affectionately yours,
“MARIA OLDERSHAW.”