It is thirty years since we first met the Mysterious Lady at a
fashionable sea-side boarding-house, and on our introduction, we
found that her brother, General Jerningham, was well known to some
members of our family. For five-and-twenty years afterwards she
haunted us at intervals; and so singularly and secretly conducted
were all her movements, that had she lived in the days of the
Inquisition, Miss Jerningham might have proved one of its most
valuable agents and coadjutors. She was a thin, middle-aged
personage, or, more correctly speaking, of uncertain age, and
without anything remarkable in her exterior, which was decidedly
lady-like, if we except a pair of the very smallest and most
restless brown eyes that were ever set in mortal's head. These eyes
expressed suspicion, together with intelligence and close
observation. They were clear and sparkling, and shaded by no
drooping fringes; and some folks declared that Miss Jerningham slept
with her eyes open. On conversing with her, she appeared to have
been everywhere and to know everything; but the moment any allusion
was made to the future, any attempt to discuss _her_ prospective
plans, then did the little brown eyes assume a reddish tinge, their
expression passing from suspicion and alarm to the most stubborn
resolve. All this was somewhat ludicrous, because nobody really felt
particular interest in her movements, or desired to pry into her
actions; but on discovering what appeared to be the weak point in
her character--because it was out of all proportion strong--idle
people, in search of amusement, availed themselves of the knowledge
to lead her a very uncomfortable life. Her most intimate friends
never knew, for months together, where she was to be found; and it
was currently reported that General Jerningham had once advertised
in the _Times_ for his sister. Certain it is, she always conned the
newspapers with avidity, particularly the portion devoted to
anonymous communications and the mystical interchange of sentiments;
and we frequently suspected that her interest arose from a deeper
source than mere curiosity. The simple query: 'Where do you think of
passing this autumn, Miss Jerningham?' threw her into a state of
strange excitement; and she always commenced her answer somewhat in
the following strain: 'Letters of importance, daily looked for, will
determine me--circumstances over which I have no control: it _is_
possible that I may visit Cowes;' but a possibility declared in this
way by Miss Jerningham was never known to come to pass. Wherever she
chanced to be seen, former acquaintances popped upon her with
uplifted hands, exclaiming: 'What! _you_ here? Why, we thought you
were at Ilfracombe'--or some other far-away place. 'How long have
you been here?--how long do you stay?' were questions easily
parried; but if a more searching investigation commenced, then the
Mysterious Lady turned, and twisted, and doubled painfully; but
somehow always managed to elude and baffle her persecutors.
Miss Jerningham's moral rectitude and unimpeachable propriety of
conduct--unsullied by the breath of detraction--rendered her in a
great measure impervious to downright ill-nature; but still she was
open to teasing and bantering; and the more she was teased, and the
more she was bantered, the more impenetrable she became. We
endeavoured to find out from herself--but unsuccessfully--if she had
always led such a roving kind of existence, and also how it
originated; for General Jerningham had a nice villa near the
metropolis, and a small, amiable, domestic circle, ready to receive
and welcome the wanderer. But no: she came upon them unawares, and
at periods when they least expected her, and disappeared again as
suddenly, they knew not why nor whither. In this way she vanished
from the boarding-house where we first met her, with no intimation
of her intention even to our hostess, till her baggage was ready and
the coach at the door.
'Where is Miss Jerningham?' was the unanimous cry when she did not
appear in her usual place.
'She left us early this morning,' quietly replied the landlady.
'Gone--really gone?' was repeated in various tones of
disappointment; and one old gentleman, who had paid the absent lady
marked attention, demanded in a chagrined voice: 'Pray, where has
she gone? Can you tell us _that_, ma'am?--heigh!'
'No, sir, I cannot,' replied our hostess. 'All I can say is, that
Miss Jerningham is a very honourable and generous lady, and wherever
she is, I wish her well.'
'Humph!' said the old gentleman gruffly; 'she must have a good
fortune to do as she does.'
'Yes, sir, she must,' was the reply: 'and go where she will, I
believe that Miss Jerningham always gives plentiful alms. It seems
her settled habit, like.'
'Settled habit!' muttered the old gentleman: 'she hasn't got a
settled habit, ma'am: she is a most unsettled and extraordinary
individual.'
'Well, sir, perhaps so,' replied Mrs Smith; 'but Miss Jerningham is
quite the lady.' And in that opinion we all coincided, supposing our
hostess by the word lady to have meant gentlewoman.
A few months afterwards she called upon us in London. She was not
staying with her brother, but declined giving her address, remarking
that it was not worth while, as she was about to change her abode
immediately. By accident, however, we discovered afterwards that
Miss Jerningham had lodged for the whole period within a dozen doors
of us. Our surprise was lessened in after-years at the pertinacity
with which she continued to appear to us, although always at
uncertain intervals; for a service rendered by our father, referring
to some banking transaction, apparently never escaped her memory,
and she invariably alluded to this act of kindness with expressions
of gratitude. This circumstance operated, we conjectured, as an
encouragement to bestow on us an unusual mark of confidence and
friendship, for such Miss Jerningham considered it when requesting
permission to add our address to an advertisement she was about
inserting in the _Times_ for 'eligible board and lodging.' She knew
that newspapers were prohibited articles in our circle,
consequently we had no opportunity of finding out that portion of
the transaction she wished to conceal. In what locality this
'eligible board and lodging' was advertised for, we never inquired,
judging it would be needless to do so, but we consented to receive
the letters Miss Jerningham expected in answer.
Poor Miss Jerningham! great was her amazement as well as our own
when, in the course of three days, we had amassed for her
consideration and perusal no less than seventy-seven letters
directed to 'X.Y.Z.' What temptations were held forth in the
advertisement which elicited so many replies we never were made
acquainted with: Miss Jerningham counted the letters, tied them up,
and carried them off in triumph. Next day we received a handsome
present of some chimney-ornaments, with 'Miss Jerningham's regards
and best thanks;' but we saw no more of the Mysterious Lady for some
years. When we did meet again in a quiet country town, she had been
to America, and we had experienced vicissitude and bereavement. Our
altered mode of living made no difference to Miss Jerningham: she
accompanied us home, for we met in the market-place; but as it is
not so easy to keep one's place of abode secret in a small
gossipping community, for once in her life she made a virtue of
necessity, and openly divulged the fact of her locale, number and
all specified. She did not know a creature in the town or in the
suburbs--she came there for solitude. Conjecture was afloat in all
quarters as to who or what she could be. Some said she must be a
gentlewoman, because she wore velvet and satin, and gold
chains--moreover, paid well for everything. Others affirmed she
might be a gentlewoman--gentlewomen did queer things sometimes--but
there must be some very strange reason for a lone and unknown female
to drop from the skies, as it were, in the midst of strangers. For
our own part, our mind was easier on her account, now that she had
broken through her rule of secrecy; and we even hoped that when we
saw her again, she might go a step farther, and throw off the veil
entirely.
On calling at her lodgings, however, the next day, we learned that
the lodger had decamped, after placing in the landlady's hand the
solatium of another week's rent, as specified in the agreement--a
week's notice or a week's money. Thus, for the space of
five-and-twenty years, every now and then, did the Mysterious Lady
turn up. Whenever we left home on a visit, we were sure, on our
return, to find a card on the table, inscribed with the mystical
characters--'Miss Jerningham.' No message left, no address given.
The last time we ever saw her was in Hyde Park, walking arm-in-arm
with her brother the general; and soon after we heard from the
worthy veteran, that 'Bessie had gone on her travels again.'
If Miss Jerningham has really ceased to exist, her end was as
mysterious and uncertain as the movements of her life. We say if,
because we feel by no means sure on the subject, and should neither
faint nor scream if she were to enter the apartment at this moment.
It is about five years since General Jerningham set hurriedly off,
in considerable dismay, for the scene of a direful conflagration in
a northern county, wherein several unfortunate individuals had
perished. The fire originated at a hotel, and the General had
reasons for fearing that his sister might be among the number of the
sufferers, for she was known to have followed that route. A
notification likewise had appeared in the public prints, respecting
an unknown lady, whose remains awaited the coroner's inquest, but
afforded no clue whatever to recognition.
General Jerningham, however, came to the conclusion that he indeed
beheld the mortal remains of his poor sister, although the only
evidence he could obtain was the description given of her appearance
by those who had seen her in life. He may have been influenced,
likewise, by the fact, that the unfortunate lady had arrived at the
hotel only on the previous day, and that no one knew who she was,
whence she had come, or whither she was going. After making every
possible inquiry, but without obtaining more satisfactory
information, the General and his family put on mourning. The shock
he had sustained produced bad effects on an already enfeebled
constitution, and accelerated the veteran's decease. During his last
days, he frequently alluded to 'poor Bessie' in affectionate terms;
and we then gathered at least one fact relating to her past history.
Her lover, it seems, had been suddenly carried off by malignant
fever on the eve of their wedding-day, bequeathing to Bessie all his
property; and Bessie, who had never known serious sorrow before,
gave no sign, by sigh or lamentation, that she bemoaned the untimely
fate of her betrothed, but withdrew herself from friends and
connections, and became the restless, homeless, harmless being at
whose peculiarities we had so often laughed, little thinking that
tears of secret anguish had probably bedewed the pathway of her
early wanderings. This very concealment of her grief, however, may
have arisen from the peculiar idiosyncrasy which procured for her
among all who knew her the name of the Mysterious Lady. But we will
not talk of her in the past tense. We are so sure of her being
alive, that we are even now anxious to conclude our visit to the
pleasant house where this is indited, feeling a presentiment we
cannot overcome, that the first interesting object we shall see on
returning home is that mystical card which has so often startled and
baffled our curiosity--'Miss. Jerningham.'