Part 18 (2/2)
”Oh no,” said Hilary, responding heartily to the hearty clasp of a hand large as a man's, but soft as a woman's.
”Why did you not come sooner?”
More than one possible excuse flashed thro' Hilary's mind, but she was too honest to give it. She gave none at all. Nor did she like to leave the impression that this was merely a visit, when she knew she had only come from secondary and personal motives.
”May I tell you why I came to-day?--Because I want advice and help, and I think you can give it, from something I heard about you yesterday.”
”Indeed! From whom?”
”In rather a roundabout way; from Mrs. Jones, who told our maid-servant.”
”The same girl I met on the staircase at your bones? I beg your pardon, but I know where you live, Miss Leaf; your landlady happens to be an acquaintance of mine.”
”So she said: and she told our Elizabeth that you were a rich and benevolent woman, who took a great interest in helping other women; not in money”--blus.h.i.+ng scarlet at be idea--”I don't mean that, but in procuring them work. I want work--oh! so terribly. If you only knew--”
”Sit down, my dear;” for Hilary was rambling much, her voice breaking, and her eyes filling, in spite of all her self-command.
Miss Balquidder--who seemed accustomed to wait upon herself--went out of the room, and returned with cake and gla.s.ses; then she took the wine from the side-board, poured some oat for herself and Hilary, and began to talk.
”It is nearly my luncheon-time, and I am a great friend to regular eating and drinking. I never let any thing interfere with my own meals, or other folks' either, if I can help it. I would as soon expect that fire to keep itself up without coals, as my mind to go on working if I don't look after my body. You understand? You seem to have good health, Miss Leaf. I hope you are a prudent girl, and take care of it.”
”I think I do;” and Hilary smiled. ”At any rate my sister does for me, and also Elizabeth.”
”Ah, I liked the look of that girl. If families did but know that the most useful patent of respectability they can carry about with them is their maid-servant! That is how I always judge my new acquaintances.”
”There's reason in it, too,” said Hilary, amused and drawn out of herself by the frank manner and the cordial voice--I use the adjective advisedly; none the less sweet because its good terse English had a decided Scotch accent, with here and there a Scotch word. Also there was about Miss Balquidder a certain dry humor essentially Scotch--neither Irish ”wit” nor English ”fun,” but Scotch humor; a little ponderous perhaps, yet sparkling: like the sparkles from a large lump of coal, red-warm at the heart, and capable of warming a whole household. As many a time it had warmed the little household at s...o...b..ry--for Robert Lyon had it in perfection. Like a waft as from old times, it made Hilary at once feel at home with Miss Balquidder. Equally, Miss Balquidder might have seen something in this girl's patient, heroic, forlorn youth which reminded her of her own. Unreasoning as these sudden attractions appear, there is often a hidden something beneath which in reality makes them both natural and probable, as was the case here. In half an hour these two women were sitting talking like old friends; and Hilary had explained her present position, needs and desires. They ended in the one cry--familiar to how many thousands more of helpless young women!--”I want work!”
Miss Balquidder listened thoughtfully. Not that it was a new story--alas! she heard it every day; but there was something new in the telling of it; such extreme directness and simplicity, such utter want of either false pride or false shame, No asking of favors, and yet no shrinking from well-means kindness; the poor woman speaking freely to the rich one, recognizing the common womanhood of both, and never supposing for an instant that mere money or position could make any difference between them.
The story ended, both turned, as was the character of both, to the practical application of it--what it was exactly that Hilary needed, and what Miss Balquidder could supply.
The latter said, after a turn or two up and down the room, with her hands behind her--the only masculine trick she had--
”My dear, before going further, I ought to tell you one thing--I am not a lady.”
Hilary looked at her in no little bewilderment.
”That is,” explained Miss Balquidder, laughing, ”not an educated gentlewoman like you. I made my money myself--in trade. I kept an outfitter's shop.”
”You must have kept it uncommonly well,” was the involuntary reply, which, in its extreme honesty and naivete, was perhaps the best thing that Hilary could have said.
”Well, perhaps I did,” and Miss Balquidder laughed her hearty laugh, betraying one of her few weaknesses--a consciousness of her own capabilities as a woman of business, and a pleasure at her own deserved success.
”Therefore, you see. I can not help you as a governess. Perhaps I would not if I could, for, so far as I see, a good clearance of one half the governesses into honest trades would be for their own benefit, and greatly to the benefit of the other half. But that's not my affair. I only meddle with things I understand. Miss Leaf, would you be ashamed of keeping a shop?”
It is no reflection upon Hilary to confess that this point-blank question startled her.--Her bringing up had been strictly among the professional cla.s.s; and in the provinces sharper than even in London is drawn the line between the richest tradesman who ”keeps a shop,”
and the poorest lawyer, doctor, or clergyman who ever starved in decent gentility. It had been often a struggle for Hilary Leaf's girlish pride to have to teach A B C to little boys and girls whose parents stood behind counters; but as she grew older she grew wiser, and intercourse with Robert Lyon had taught her much. She never forgot, one day, when Selina asked him something about his grandfather or great-grandfather, and he answered quickly, smiling, ”Well, I suppose I had one, but I really never heard.” Nevertheless it takes long to conquer entirely the cla.s.s prejudices of years, nay, more, of generations. In spite of her will Hilary felt herself wince, and the color rush all over her face, at Miss Balquidder's question.
<script>