While Stephen Gaff and his son were busy preparing their residence in
the South Sea island, Mrs Gaff was equally busy in preparing her
residence for their reception on their return to Cove.
The little cottage had undergone so many changes during the past few
months that it is doubtful whether its rightful owner would have
recognised his own property,--internally at least; externally it
remained unaltered.
Having, with much pains, ascertained that she might venture to launch
out pretty freely in the way of expenditure without becoming absolutely
bankrupt, Mrs Gaff had supplied herself with a handsome new grate, a
large proportion of which was of polished brass, that cost herself and
Tottie much of their time to keep clean and brilliant; there were also
fender and fire-irons to match, adorned with brass knobs and points,
which latter were the special admiration of Tottie. There was a carpet,
too, straight from the looms of Turkey--as the man who sold it informed
Mrs Gaff--which was the admiration of all Cove, for it was divided into
squares of brilliant colours, with huge red roses in the centre of each.
It was positively a superb, a resplendent, carpet, and rejoiced the
hearts and eyes of Mrs Gaff and her child every time they looked at it,
which you may be sure was pretty often. It kept them indeed in a
constant state of nervous dread lest they should spill or capsize
anything upon it, and in this respect might almost be said to have
rendered their lives a burden, but they bore up under it with surprising
cheerfulness.
There was also a new eight-day clock, with a polished mahogany case and
a really white face, which by contrast made the old Dutch clock more
yellow and bilious than ever, and if possible more horrified in its
expression. Mrs Gaff had allowed the old clock to retain its corner,
wisely concluding that it would be a pleasantly familiar sight and sound
to her husband and son when they returned. It was quite apparent to the
meanest capacity that there was a rivalry between the two timepieces;
for, being both rather good timekeepers, they invariably struck the
hours at the same time, but the new clock struck with such a loud
overbearing ring that the old one was quite overpowered. The latter had
the advantage, however, of getting the first two strokes before the
other began, besides which it prefaced its remarks every hour with a
mysterious hissing and whirring sound that the new clock could not have
got up to save its life.
There were also half-a-dozen new cane chairs. The shopman who had sold
Mrs Gaff the carpet told her that they would look more elegant and
drawing-room-like than the six heavy second-hand mahogany ones, with the
hair-cloth seats, on which she had set her heart. Mrs Gaff would not
at first agree to take the cane chairs, observing truly that they "was
too slim," but she was shaken in her mind when the shopman said they
were quite the thing for a lady's boudoir.
She immediately demanded to know what a "boodwar" was. The shopman told
her that it was an elegant apartment in which young ladies were wont to
sit and read poetry, and think of their absent lovers.
On hearing this she retired into a corner of the shop, taking refuge
behind a chest of drawers, and held a long whispered conversation with
Tottie, after which she came forth and asked the shopman if married
ladies ever used boodwars where they might sit and think of their absent
husbands.
The shopman smiled, and said he had no doubt they did--indeed, he was
sure of it; for, said he, there was a certain apartment in his own house
in which his own wife was wont to sit up at night, when he chanced to be
absent, and think of _him_.
The uncandid man did not add that in the same apartment he was in the
habit of being taken pretty sharply to task as to what had kept him out
so late; but, after all, what had Mrs Gaff to do with that? The result
was that the six cane chairs were ordered by Mrs Gaff, who remarked
that she never read "poitry," but that that wouldn't matter much.
Thenceforth she styled the cottage at Cove the Boodwar.
It is worthy of remark that Mrs Gaff, being a heavy woman, went through
the bottom of the first of the cane chairs she sat down on after they
were placed in the boudoir, and that her fisher-friends, being all more
or less heavy, went successively through the bottoms of all the rest
until none were left, and they were finally replaced by the six heavy
mahogany chairs, with the hair seats, which ever afterwards stood every
test to which they were subjected, that of Haco Barepoles' weight
included.
But the chief ornament of the cottage was a magnificent old mahogany
four-poster, which was so large that it took up at least a third of the
apartment, and so solidly dark and heavy that visitors were invariably,
on their first entrance, impressed with the belief that a hearse had
been set up in a corner of the boudoir. The posts of this bed were
richly carved, and the top of each was ornamented with an imposing ball.
The whole was tastefully draped with red damask so dark with age as to
be almost black. Altogether this piece of furniture was so grand that
words cannot fully describe it, and it stood so high on its carved legs
that Mrs Gaff and Tottie were obliged to climb into it each night by a
flight of three steps, which were richly carpeted, and which folded into
a square box, which was extremely convenient as a seat or ottoman during
the day, and quite in keeping with the rest of the furniture of the
"boodwar."
In addition to all these beautiful and expensive articles, Mrs Gaff
displayed her love for the fine arts in the selection and purchase of
four engravings in black frames with gold slips, one for each wall of
the cottage. The largest of these was the portrait of a first-rate
line-of-battle ship in full sail, with the yards manned, and dressed
from deck to trucks with all the flags of the navy. Another was a head
of Lord Nelson, said to be a speaking likeness!
This head had the astonishing property of always looking at you, no
matter what part of the room you looked at it from! Tottie had
expressed a wish that it might be hung opposite the new clock, in order
that it might have something, as it were, to look at; but although the
eyes looked straight out of the picture, they refused to look at the
clock, and pertinaciously looked at living beings instead. Mrs Gaff
asserted that it had a squint, and that it was really looking at the
Dutch clock, and on going to the corner where that timepiece stood she
found that Lord Nelson _was_ gazing in that direction! But Tottie, who
went to the opposite corner of the room, roundly asseverated that the
head looked at _her_.
There was no getting over this difficulty, so Mrs Gaff gave it up as an
unsolvable riddle; but Tottie, who was fond of riddles, pondered the
matter, and at length came to the conclusion that as Lord Nelson was a
great man, it must be because of his greatness that he could look in two
directions at the same moment.
Mrs Gaff furthermore displayed her taste for articles of _vertu_ in her
selection of chimney-piece ornaments. She had completely covered every
inch of available space with shells of a brilliant and foreign aspect,
and articles of chinaware, such as parrots and shepherds, besides
various creatures which the designer had evidently failed to represent
correctly, as they resembled none of the known animals of modern times.
From this abode of elegance and luxury Mrs Gaff issued one forenoon in
her gay cotton visiting dress and the huge bonnet with the pink bows and
ribbons. Tottie accompanied her, for the two were seldom apart for any
lengthened period since the time when Stephen and Billy went away.
Mother and daughter seemed from that date to have been united by a new
and stronger bond than heretofore; they walked, worked, ate, slept, and
almost thought together. On the present occasion they meant to pay a
business visit at the house of Mr Stuart.
While they were on their way thither, Miss Penelope Stuart was engaged
in the difficult and harassing work of preparing for a journey. She was
assisted by Mrs Niven, who was particularly anxious to know the cause
of the intended journey, to the great annoyance of Miss Peppy, who did
not wish to reveal the cause, but who was so incapable of concealing
anything that she found it absolutely necessary to take the housekeeper
into her confidence.
"Niven," she said, sitting down on a portmanteau, which was packed,
beside one which was packing.
"Yes, ma'am."
"I may as well tell you why it is that I am going to visit my
brother-in-law--"
"Oh, it's to your brother-in-law you're goin', is it?"
"Yes, I forgot that you did not know, but to be sure I might have known
that you could not know unless you were told, although it's difficult to
understand why people shouldn't know what others are thinking of, as
well as what they are looking at. We can see them looking, but we can't
hear them thinking--really it is very perplexing--dear me, where can
they be?"
"What, ma'am?"
"My thick walking-shoes. I'm quite sure that I had them in my hand a
minute ago."
"Ho! ma'am," exclaimed Mrs Niven suddenly, "if you aren't bin an' put
'em into your bonnet-box among the caps."
"Well now, that _is_ odd. Put them into the bag, Niven. Well, as I was
saying--where was I?"
"You was goin' to tell me why you are goin' to your brother, ma'am,"
observed the housekeeper.
"Ah! to be sure; well then--. But you must never mention it, Niven."
Miss Peppy said this with much solemnity, as if she were administering
an oath.
"On my honour, ma'am; trust me. I never mentions hanythink."
Mrs Niven said this as though she wondered that the supposition could
have entered into Miss Peppy's head for a moment, that she, (Mrs
Niven), could, would, or should tell anything to anybody.
"Well then, you must know," resumed Miss Peppy, with a cautious glance
round the room, "my brother-in-law, Colonel Crusty, who lives in the
town of Athenbury, is a military man--"
"So I should suppose, ma'am," observed Mrs Niven, "he being called
Kurnel, w'ich is an army name."
"Ah, yes, to be sure, I forgot that; well, it is two hours by train to
Athenbury, which is a dirty place, as all seaports are--full of fishy
and sailory smells, though I've never heard that such smells are bad for
the health; at least the Sanitary Commissioners say that if all the
filth were cleaned away the effluvia would be less offensive, and--
and--. But, as I was saying, for those reasons I mean to pay my
brother-in-law a short visit."
"Beg parding, ma'am," said Mrs Niven, "but, if I may remark so, you
'ave not mentioned your reasons as yet."
"Oh, to be sure," said the baffled Miss Peppy, who had weakly hoped that
she could escape with an indefinite explanation; "I meant to say, (and
you'll be sure not to tell, Niven), that the Colonel has a remarkably
pretty daughter, with _such_ a sweet temper, and heiress to all her
father's property; though I never knew rightly how much it was, for the
Crustys are very close, and since their mother died--"
"Whose mother, ma'am? the Colonel's or his daughter's?"
"His daughter's, of course--Bella, she is called. Since she died, (not
Bella, but her mother), since then I've never heard anything about the
family; but now that Bella is grown up, I mean to get her and Kenneth to
see each other, and I have no doubt that they will fall in love, which
would be very nice, for you know Kenneth will have a good income one of
those days, and it's as well that the young people should be--be married
if they can, and indeed I see nothing in the way; though, after all,
they would probably be happier if they were _not_ to marry, for I don't
believe the state to be a happy one, and that's the reason, Niven, that
I never entered into it myself; but it's too late now, though I cannot
conceive why it should ever be too late, for if people can be happy at
all, any time, what's to hinder?"
Miss Peppy paused abruptly here, and Mrs Niven, supposing that she
awaited a reply, said--
"Nothing whatever, ma'am."
"Exactly so, Niven, that's just what I think. Kenneth is young and tall
and handsome, Bella is young and small and pretty, and that's the reason
the match is so suitable, though, to be sure, there are many people
similarly situated whose union would not be suitable; dear me, this
world of perplexities! No one can read the riddle, for this world is no
better than a big round riddle, flattened a little at the poles, to be
sure, like an orange, though to _my_ eyes it seems as flat as a pancake,
except in the Scotch Highlands, where it's very irregular, and the
people wear kilts; still, upon the whole, I think the match will be a
good one, so I am going to try to bring it about."
"But are you sure, ma'am, that Master Kenneth will go to visit Colonel
Crusty?"
"O yes, he has promised to escort me there, and then he'll see Bella,
and, of course, he won't wish to leave after that."
Mrs Niven shook her head, and observed that she rather feared Miss
Lizzie Gordon's image was already indelibly impressed on Master
Kenneth's heart, but Miss Peppy replied that that was all nonsense, and
that, at all events, her brother, Mr Stuart, would never permit it.
She did not find it difficult to gain over Mrs Niven to her views, for
that worthy woman, (like many other worthy women in this world), held
the opinion that a "good match" meant a match where money existed on one
or both sides, and that love was a mere boyish and girlish idea, which
should not be taken into consideration at all.
The two were still discussing this important subject when Mrs Gaff laid
violent hands on the door-bell.
On being admitted to the presence of Miss Peppy, Mrs Gaff sat down on
the packed trunk, and all but stove in the lid; whereupon she rose
hastily with many apologies, and afterwards in her confusion sat down on
the bonnet-box, which she stove in so completely as to render it
_hors-de-combat_ for all future time.
"I'm awful sorry," she began.
"Oh, no harm; at least no matter," said Miss Peppy, "it's quite a
useless sort of thing," (this was literally true), "and I mean to get a
new one immediately."
Mrs Gaff became suddenly comforted, and said, with a bland smile, that,
having heard only that morning of her intention to visit the town of
Athenbury, she had called to ask her to do her a great favour.
"With the greatest pleasure; what can I do for you?" said Miss Peppy,
who was the essence of good-nature.
"Thank 'ee, ma'am, it's to take charge o' a bit parcel, about the size
of my head, or thereaway, and give it to a poor relation o' mine as
lives there when he an't afloat."
"A seaman?" said Miss Peppy.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Very well; but," continued Miss Peppy, "you say the parcel is the size
of your head: do you mean your head with or without the bonnet? Excuse
me for--"
"La! ma'am, _without_ the bonnet, of course. It may perhaps be rather
heavy, but I an't quite sure yet. I'll let you know in an hour or so."
Mrs Gaff rose abruptly, left the house, with Tottie, precipitately, and
made her way to the bank, where she presented herself with a defiant air
to the teller who had originally supplied her with a hundred pounds in
gold. She always became and looked defiant, worthy woman, on entering
the bank, having become unalterably impressed with the idea that all the
clerks, tellers, and directors had entered into an agreement to throw
every possible difficulty in the way of her drawing out money, and
having resolved in her own determined way that she wouldn't give in as
long as, (to borrow one of her husband's phrases), "there was a shot in
the locker!"
"Now, sir," she said to the elderly teller, "I wants twenty pounds, if
there's as much in the shop."
The elderly teller smiled, and bade her sit down while he should write
out the cheque for her. She sat down, gazing defiance all round her,
and becoming painfully aware that there were a number of young men
behind various screened rails whose noses were acting as safety-valves
to their suppressed feelings.
When the cheque was drawn out and duly signed, Mrs Gaff went to the
rails and shook it as she might have shaken in the face of her enemies
the flag under which she meant to conquer or to die. On receiving it
back she returned and presented it to the elderly teller with a look
that said plainly--"There! refuse to cash that at your peril;" but she
said nothing, she only snorted.
"How will you have it?" inquired the teller blandly.
"In coppers," said Mrs Gaff stoutly.
"Coppers!" exclaimed the teller in amazement.
"Yes, coppers."
"My good woman, are you aware that you could scarcely lift such a sum in
coppers."
"How many would it make?" she inquired with an air of indecision.
"Four thousand eight hundred pence."
Mrs Gaff's resolution was shaken; after a few moments' consideration
she said she would take it in silver, and begged to have it mixed--with
a good number of sixpences amongst it.
"You see, my lamb," she whispered to Tottie, while the teller was
getting the money, "my poor cousin George is a'most too old to go to sea
now, and he han't got a penny to live on, an' so I wants to gladden his
heart and astonish his eyes wi' a sight o' such a heap o' silver. Mix
it all together, sir," she said to the teller.
He obeyed, and pushed the pile towards Mrs Gaff, who surveyed it first
with unmixed delight; but gradually her face was clouded with a look of
concern as she thought of the counting of it.
If the counting of the gold was terrible to her, the counting of the
silver was absolutely appalling, for the latter, consisting as it did of
half-crowns, shillings, and sixpences, numbered nearly five hundred
pieces.
The poor woman applied herself to the task with commendable energy, but
in ten minutes she perceived that the thing was utterly beyond her
powers, so she suddenly exclaimed to Tottie, who stood looking on with
tears in her eyes,--"Surely the elderly teller must be an honest man,
and would never cheat me;" having come to which conclusion she swept the
silver into the bag previously prepared for it, and consigned that to
the basket which was the inseparable companion of her left arm.
Thereafter she left the bank and hastened to a grocer in the town with
whom she was acquainted, and from whom she obtained brown paper and
twine with which she made the money up into a parcel. Her next act was
to purchase a new bonnet-box, which she presented to Miss Peppy with
many earnest protestations that she would have got a better if she
could, but a better was not to be had in town for love or money.
Having executed all her commissions, Mrs Gaff returned to Cove and
spent an hour or two with Tottie in the four-poster--not by any means
because she was lazy, but because it afforded her peculiar and
inexpressible pleasure to stare at the damask curtains and wonder how
Gaff would like it, and think of the surprise that he would receive on
first beholding _such_ a bed. So anxious did the good woman become in
her desire to make the most of the new bed, that she once or twice
contemplated the propriety of Stephen and herself, and the Bu'ster and
Tottie, spending the first night, "after their return," all together in
it, but on mature consideration she dismissed the idea as untenable.