Part 36 (1/2)
Fitzroy, a rather short, grey-bearded man with a florid countenance, had risen from a clerk's stool to be what he was, and differed in little particular from thousands of well-off city men who live in the West End and enter the anteroom of society.
Nevertheless, through the influence of the white-waistcoated Member for South-West Norfolk, a good many well-known people dined at Brook Street from time to time, while to Morgan-Mason's smart gatherings at his house or his dinners at the Carlton his sister and her husband were always invited.
It was pleasant enough to mix with such people as surrounded her employers, but, truth to tell, Filomena Nodari quickly found the post of governess monotonous and irksome. First of all, it was difficult for her to preserve her una.s.suming character as a paid menial; secondly, she hated children; thirdly, Bertha was a spoilt child, with no leaning towards lessons; and fourthly, the small bare schoolroom at the top of the house was a gloomy place in which to spend those bright spring days.
Still, she never complained. She was well paid by the Minister of War, and with a woman's love of intrigue, she had set herself to carefully accomplish the difficult task which Borselli had given her.
She was fortunate, inasmuch as Mrs Fitzroy treated her with such consideration. Indeed, sometimes when there were no visitors, she would invite her in to lunch with her, when they would generally talk French, a language with which her mistress was well acquainted.
So well did she act her part that the governess was quickly voted a treasure, and as Bertha was a particular favourite of her Uncle Morgan-Mason, the latter became gradually interested in her. Sometimes, indeed, he would come up to the schoolroom while lessons were in progress with an excuse to leave a packet of sweetmeats for his niece; but Filomena, with her woman's shrewd intuition, knew that he came to have a little chat with her.
He was inquisitive--always inquisitive.
One day as he sat with Bertha upon his knee in the schoolroom he asked about her parentage.
”You are a native of Bologna--where the sausages come from?” he laughed.
Perhaps he sold that comestible at his many shops, she reflected, but she answered in her broken English--
”Yes. But just as none of straw hats are made in Leghorn, so there are none of Bologna sausages made in Bologna.”
”You must be already tired of life here in London after your beautiful Italy?” he remarked.
”Ah! non,” she a.s.sured him. ”I like your London--what leetle I have seen of it. But that is not very much. I take Bertha for one walk in the park, or down to what you call Kensington, every day. And many times we ascend to the roof of an omnibus. But omnibuses are so puzzling,” she added, with a laugh. ”You never know where one goes. We always ascend and seet there till we come to the end of the voyage. But we make some amusing errors many times. Only the day before to-day we ascended on a 'bus outside the Gallery Nationale, where are the fountains, paid twenty centimes--I mean two pennies--_eh bien_! the next street-corner past a church they turned us off--the omnibus went no farther!”
The millionaire laughed aloud, saying--
”It must have been a Royal Oak or Cricklewood 'bus coming home. They go no farther than Charing Cross.”
”But oh!” she continued, ”we go many time a long, long way--out into the country--away from London. Once we went on and on till I thought we would never arrest--right on till we came to a small town down by the river--Tweet-ham--Tweek-ham--the conductor called it, or something like that. Your English names are so very difficult. There was an island in the river, and an old church close by.”
”Twickenham! You mean Twickenham!” he exclaimed. ”Fancy your going so far on an omnibus! Your adventures, mademoiselle, must have been amusing.”
”Ah yes. But poor madame! We did not return till seven of the clock, and she was fearing something had happened.”
”Naturally,” he said. ”But let me give you a word of advice, mademoiselle. Be very careful where you go. London is not at all safe for a foreign lady like yourself, more especially if her face is as attractive as yours.”
”Oh!” she laughed. ”Mine has no attraction, surely. And I tell you, m'sieur, that I am not in the least afraid.”
He had expected her to be impressed by his flattery, but she was not.
On the contrary, she pa.s.sed his remark as though it had never been uttered, and continued to relate to him her impressions of London and London life, some of which were distinctly humorous, for the streets of our metropolis always strike the foreigner as full of quaint incongruities, from the balancing of the hansom cab to the kilt of the Highland soldier.
He found her conversation amusing and interesting. She was somehow different from the wide circle of women of his acquaintance, those society dames who borrowed his money, ate his dinners, and gave tone to his entertainments. And this was exactly how she desired to impress him.
As the weeks went on, the society swallows returned from wintering in the South, and the London season began in earnest. The millionaire, a frequent visitor at his sister's house, often met the pleasant-faced governess, who very cleverly succeeded in increasing her popularity until she was well-known to Mrs Fitzroy's lady friends, and declared by them all to be ”a perfect treasure.”
None knew, however, save little Bertha--who feared to speak lest mademoiselle should punish her--of a rather curious incident which occurred one morning as she was sitting with her charge in Kensington Gardens. A tall, dark-faced, middle-aged man with black moustache, well-dressed in frock coat and silk hat, a fine diamond pin in his scarf, approached, raised his hat, uttered some mysterious words in Italian, and then took a seat at her side.
At first mademoiselle regarded the stranger with distrust, until he drew a paper from his pocket and allowed her to read it. Then, apparently satisfied, she listened to all he told her. But as it was in Italian, the child could not understand. She only noticed that mademoiselle turned rather pale, and seemed to be expressing deep regret.
The dark-faced man spoke slowly and calmly, while, on her part, she shrugged her shoulders and showed her palms, and responded with quick volubility, while the child sat at her side regarding the stranger in open-eyed wonder.