The Wanderer; or, Female Difficulties (Volume 2 of 5) by Fanny Burney
CHAPTER XXX
Ellis had but just cast herself, in deep disturbance, upon a chair, whenher door was opened, without tapping, or any previous ceremony, by MrGiles Arbe; who smilingly enquired after her health, with the familiarkindness of an intimate old friend; but, receiving no immediate answer,gave her a nod, that said, don't mind me; and, sitting down by her side,began talking to himself.
Roused by this interruption, she begged to know his commands.
He finished his speech to himself, before he took any notice of hers,and then, very good humouredly, asked what she wanted.
'May I hope,' she cried, 'that you have the goodness to bring me someanswer to my note?'
'What note, my pretty lady?'
'That which you were so obliging as to undertake delivering for me toMiss Arbe?'
He stared and looked amazed, repeating, 'Note?--what note?' but when, atlast, she succeeded in making him recollect the circumstance, hiscountenance fell, and leaning against the back of his chair, while hisstick, and a parcel which he held under his arm, dropt to the ground: 'Iam frighted to death,' he cried, 'for fear it's that I tore last night,to light my little lamp!'
Then, emptying every thing out of his pockets; 'I can soon tell,however,' he continued, 'because I put t'other half back, verycarefully; determining to examine what it was in the morning; for I wassurprised to find a folded note in my pocket: but I thought of it nomore, afterwards, from that time to this.'
Collecting, then, the fragments; 'Here,' he continued, 'is what isleft.--'
Ellis immediately recognized her hand-writing.
'I protest,' cried he, in great confusion, 'I have never above twice orthrice, perhaps, in my life, been more ashamed! And once was when I wasso unfortunate as to burn a gentleman's stick; a mighty curious sort ofcane, that I was unluckily holding in my hand, just as the fire wantedstirring; and not much thinking, at that moment, by great ill luck, ofwhat I was about, I poked it into the middle of the grate; and not asoul happened to take notice of it, any more than myself, till it made aprodigious crackling; and all that was not consumed split intosplinters. I never was so out of countenance in my life. I could notmake a single apology. So they all thought I did not mind it! Don't youthink so, too, now? For I am very sorry I tore your note, I assure you!'
Ellis readily accepted his excuse.
'Well, and another time,' he continued, 'I had a still worse accident. Iwas running after an ill-natured gnat, that had stung a lady, with myhand uplifted to knock him down, and, very unluckily, after he had ledme a dance all over the room, he darted upon the lady's cheek; and, inmy hurry to crush him, I gave her such a smart slap of the face, that itmade her quite angry. I was never so shocked since I was born. I ranaway as fast as I could; for I had not a word to say for myself.'
He then began relating a third instance; but Ellis interrupted him; andagain desired to know his business.
'Good! true!' cried he, 'you do well to put me in mind, for talking ofone thing makes a man sometimes forget another. It's what has happenedto me before now. One i'n't always upon one's guard. I remember, once,my poor cousin was disappointed of a chaperon, to go with her to a ball,after being dressed out in all the best things that she had in theworld, and looking better than ever she did before in her life, as shetold me herself; and she asked me to run to a particular friend, to begthat she would accompany her, instead of the one that had failed her; soI set off, as fast as possible, for I saw that she was in a prodigiousfidget; not much caring, I suppose, to be dizened out, and to put on herbest looks, to be seen by nobody but her papa and me; which is naturalenough, for her papa always thinks her pretty; and as to me, I don'tdoubt but she may be so neither; though I never happened to take muchnotice of it.'
'Well, Sir, to our business?' cried Ellis.
'Well, when I arrived at this friend of my cousin's, I met there afriend of my own, and one that I had not seen for fifteen years. I hadso prodigious much to say to him, that it put all my poor cousin's fineclothes and best looks out of my head! and, I am quite ashamed to ownit, but we never once ceased our confabulation, my old friend and I,till, to my great surprise, supper was brought upon the table! I was inextreme confusion, indeed, for, just then, somebody asked me how mycousin did; which made me recollect my commission. I told it, in allhaste, to the lady, and begged, so urgently, that she would oblige mycousin, who would never forgive me for not delivering my message sooner,if I carried a refusal, that, at last, I persuaded her to comply; but Iwas so abashed by my forgetfulness, that I never thought of mentioningthe ball. So that when she arrived, all in her common gear, my poorcousin, who supposed that she had only waited, for her hair-dressers andshoe-makers, looked at her with as much amazement as if she had neverseen her before in her life. And the lady was prodigiously piqued not tobe received better; so that they were upon the very point of a quarrel,when they discovered that all the fault was mine! But by the time thatthey came to that part, I was so out of countenance, you would havejudged that I had done it all on purpose! I was frightened out of mywits: and I made off as fast as possible; and when I got to my own room,there was not a chair nor a table that I did not put against the door,for fear of their bursting the lock; they were both of them in suchprodigious passions, to know why I had served them so. And yet, thewhole time, I was as innocent of it as you are; for I never once thoughtabout either of them! never in my life!'
Again Ellis enquired what were his commands, frankly avowing, that shewas too much engrossed by the melancholy state of her own affairs, toattend to any other.
'What, then, I'm afraid those poor people a'n't paid yet?'
'A poorer person, Sir, as I believe, and hope,' answered she, sighing,'than any amongst them, is unpaid also! They would not, else, have thisclaim upon your compassion.'
'What, have you got any bad debts yourself?'
'Enquire, Sir, of Miss Arbe; and if you extend your benevolence torepresenting what is due to my creditors, it may urge her to considerwhat is due to me.'
'Does any body owe you any money, then?'
'Yes, Sir; and as much as will acquire all I myself owe to others.'
'What is the reason, then, that they don't pay you?'
'The want of knowing, Sir, the value of a little to the self-supportedand distressed! The want, in short, of consideration.'
'Bad! bad!--that i'n't right!' cried he: 'I'll put an end to it,however;' rising hastily: 'I'll make my cousin go to every one of them.They must be taught what they should do. They mean very well; but that'sof no use if they don't act well too. And if my cousin don't go to them,I'll go myself.'
He then quitted the house, in the greatest haste; leaving behind him hisparcel and his stick, which were not perceived till his departure.
Ellis knew not whether to lament or to rejoice at this promisedinterference; but, wholly overset by these new and unexpected obstaclesto providing for her immediate subsistence, she had no resource but toawait with patience the effect of his efforts.
The following day, while anxiously expecting him, she was surprised byanother visit from Miss Arbe; who, with an air as sprightly as her ownwas dejected, cried, 'Well, I hope this new plan will make an end of allour difficulties. You have had time enough, now, to consider of it; forI have such a little minute always to stay, that I can never pretend todiscuss an hundred _pros_ and _cons_. Though, indeed, I flatter myself,'tis impossible your scruples should still hold out. But where in theworld have you hid your harp? I have been peeping about for it eversince I came in. And my music? Have you looked it over? Is it notdelightful? I long to play it with you. I tried it twenty times bymyself, but I could not manage it. But every thing's so much easier whenone tries it together, that I dare say we shall conquer all those horridhard passages at once. But where's your harp?--Tell me, however, first,what you decide about our plan; for when once we begin playing, there'sno thinking of any thing else.'
'If it be the concert you mean, Madam, I can only repeat my thanks; andthat I can never, except
'What a thousand pities, my dear Miss Ellis, to throw away your charmingtalents, through that terrible diffidence! However, I can't give you upso easily. I must positively bring you round;--only if we stop now, weshan't have a moment for those horrid hard passages. So where's mymusic? And where have you conjured your harp?'
The music, she answered, she had neither seen nor heard of; the harp,useless since no longer necessary, she had sent home.
The smiles and sprightly airs of Miss Arbe now instantly vanished, andwere succeeded by undisguised displeasure. To send back, withoutconsulting her, an instrument that could never have been obtained butthrough her recommendation, she called an action the most extraordinary:she was too much hurried, however, to enter into any discussion; andmust drive home immediately, to enquire what that eternal blunderer, hercousin Giles, had done, not only with her note, but with her music;which was of so much consequence, that his whole life could not make heramends, if it had met with any accident.
Ellis had been so far from purporting to cast herself into anydependence upon Miss Arbe, that, upon this unjust resentment, shesuffered her to run down stairs, without offering any apology.Conceiving, however, that the parcel, left by Mr Giles, might possiblycontain the music in question, she followed her with it into the shop;where she had the mortification of hearing her say, 'Miss Matson, as toyour debts, you must judge for yourself. I can't pretend to beresponsible for the credit of every body that solicits my patronage.'
With the silent displeasure of contempt, Ellis put the parcel into herhands, and retreated.
'Why how's this? here is my note unopened,' cried Miss Arbe.
Ellis, returning, said that she had not seen any note.
Miss Arbe declared that she had placed it, herself, within thepack-thread that was tied round the music; but it appeared that Mr Gileshad squeezed it under the brown paper cover, whence it had not beenvisible.
'And I wrote it,' cried Miss Arbe, 'purposely that you might be readywith your answer; and to beg that you would not fail to study thepassages I marked with a pencil, that we might know how to finger themwhen we met. However, I shall certainly never trust that monstroustiresome creature with another commission.'
She then, accompanied by Miss Bydel, who now entered the shop, andinvited herself to be of the party, followed Ellis up stairs, to readthe note, and talk the subject over.
From this note, Ellis discovered that the plan was entirely altered: theprofessor was wholly omitted, and she was placed herself at the head ofa new enterprize. It was to be conducted under the immediate and avowedpatronage of Miss Arbe, upon a scheme of that lady's own suggestion andarrangement, which had long been projecting.
A subscription was to be raised amongst all the ladies of any fashion,or consequence, in or near Brighthelmstone, who, whether as mothers,aunts, guardians, or friends, had the care of any young ladiespossessing musical talents. Lady Kendover had consented that her nameshould be placed at the head of the list, as soon as any other lady, ofsufficient distinction to be named immediately after her ladyship,should come forward. The concert was to be held, alternately, at thehouses of the principal subscribers, whose apartments, and inclinations,should best be suited to the purpose. The young ladies were to perform,by rotation or selection, according as the lady directress of the night,aided by Miss Arbe's counsel, should settle. A small band was to beengaged, that the concert might be opened with the dignity of anoverture; that the concertos might be accompanied; and that the wholemight conclude with the _eclat_ of a full piece. Ellis, for whoseadvancement, and in whose name, the money was to be raised, that was topay herself, the other artists, and all the concomitant expences, was toplay upon the harp, and to sing an air, in the course of every act.
This plan was far less painful to her feelings than that which hadpreceded it, since the concert was to be held in private houses, andyoung ladies of fashion were themselves to be performers; but, thoughher thanks were grateful and sincere, her determination was immoveable.'It is not,' she said, 'believe me, Madam, from false notions of pride,that, because I, alone, am to be paid, I decline so honourable a methodof extricating myself from my present difficulties: my pride, on thecontrary, urges me to every exertion that may lead to self-dependence:but who is permitted to act by the sole guidance of their ownperceptions and notions? who is so free,--I might better, perhaps, sayso desolate,--as to consider themselves clear of all responsibility tothe opinions of others?'
'Of others? Why do you belong, then, really, to any body, Mrs Ellis?'cried Miss Bydel.
'They must be pretty extraordinary people,' said Miss Arbe,contemptuously dropping her eyes, 'if they can disapprove a scheme thatwill shew your talents to so much advantage; besides bringing you intothe notice of so many people of distinction.' Then, rising, she wouldforbear, she said, to trouble her any more; inform Lady Kendover of herrefusal; and let Lady Aurora know that her farther interference would beunacceptable.
At the name of Lady Aurora, Ellis entreated some explanation; but MissArbe, without deigning to make any, hurried to her carriage.
Miss Bydel, pouring forth a volley of interrogatories upon theintentions of Ellis, her expectations, and her means, would haveremained; but she reaped so little satisfaction that, tired, at length,herself, she retreated; though not till she had fully caught theattention of Ellis, by the following words: 'I have been very ready, MrsEllis, to serve you in your distress; but I hope you won't forget that Ialways intended to be disbursed by your music teaching: so, if you don'tdo that any more, I can't see why you won't do this; that you may payme.'
She then took leave.
Ellis was far more grieved than offended by this reprimand, which,however gross, did not seem unjust. To judge me, she cried, by mypresent appearance, my resisting this offer must be attributed toimpertinence, ingratitude, or folly. And how can I expect to be judgedbut by what is seen, what is known? Who is willing to be so generous,who is capable to be so noble, as to believe, or even to conceive, thatlonely distress, like mine, may call for respect and forbearance, aswell as for pity and assistance?--Oh Lady Aurora!--sole charm, solesoftener of my sufferings!--Oh liberal, high-minded Harleigh!--why arethere so few to resemble you? And why must your virtues and yourkindness, for me, be null? Why am I doomed to seek--so hardly--thesupport that flies me,--yet to fly the consolation that offers?