Part 19 (1/2)
”Take time to answer, and speak out, my dear. Don't be afraid. You'll not offend me.”
The kindly cheerful tone made Hilary recover her balance immediately.
”I never thought of it before; the possibility of such a thing did not occur to me; but I hope I should not be ashamed of any honest work for which I was competent. Only--to serve in a shop--to want upon strangers--I am so horribly shy of strangers.” And again the sensitive color rushed in a perfect tide over checks and forehead.
Miss Balquidder looked, half amused, compa.s.sionately at her.
”No, my dear, you would not make a good shop-woman, at least there are many who are better fitted for it than you; and it is my maxim that people should try to find out, and to do, only that which they are best fitted for. If they did we might not have so many cases of proud despair and ambitious failure in the world. It looks very grand and interesting sometimes to try and do what you can't de, and then tear your hair, and think the world has ill-used you--very grand, but very silly: when all the while, perhaps, there is something else you can do thoroughly well; and the world will be exceedingly obliged to you for doing it, and not doing the other thing.--As doubtless the world was to me, when, instead of being a mediocre musician, as I once wished to be--it's true, my dear--I took to keeping one of the best ladies' outfitting warehouses in London.”
While she talked her companion had quite recovered herself, and Miss Balquidder then went on to explain, what I will tell more briefly, if less graphically, than the good Scotchwoman, who, like all who have had a hard struggle in their youth, liked a little to dilate upon it in easy old age. Hard as it was, however, it had ended early, for at fifty she found herself a woman of independent property, without kith or kin, still active, energetic, and capable of enjoying life. She applied her mind to find out what she could best do with herself and her money.
”I might have bought a landed estate to be inherited by--n.o.body; or a house in Belgravia, and an opera-box, to be shared by--n.o.body. We all have our pet luxuries; none of these were exactly mine.”
”No,” a.s.sented Hilary, somewhat abstractedly. She was thinking--if she could make a fortune, and--and give it away!--if, by any means, any honorable, upright heart could be made to understand that it did not signify, in reality, which side the money came from; that it sometimes showed deeper, the very deepest attachment, when a proud, poor man had self-respect and courage enough to say to a woman, ”I love you, and I will marry you; I am not such a coward as to be afraid of your gold.”
But, oh! what a ridiculous dream!--and she sat there, the penniless Hilary Leaf, listening to Miss Balquidder, the rich lady, whose life seemed so easy. For the moment, perhaps, her own appeared hard. But she had hope, and she was young. She knew nothing of the years and years that had had to be lived through before those kind eyes looked as clear and cloudless as now; before the voice had gained the sweet evenness of tone which she liked to listen to, and felt that it made her quiet and ”good,” almost like Johanna's.
”You see, my dear,” said Miss Balquidder, ”when one has no duties, one must just make them; when we have n.o.body to care for us, we must take to caring for every body. I suppose”--here a slight pause indicated that this life, like all women's lives, had had its tale, now long, long told--”I suppose I was not meant to be a wife; but I am quite certain I was meant to be a mother. And”--with her peculiar, bright, humorous look--”you'd be astonished, Miss Leaf, if you knew what lots of 'children' I have in all parts of the world.”
Miss Balquidder then went on to explain, that finding, from her own experience, how great was the number, and how sore the trial of young women who nowadays are obliged to work--obliged to forget that there is such a thing as the blessed privilege of being worked for--she had set herself, in her small way, to try and help them. Her pet project was to induce educated women to quit the genteel starvation of governess.h.i.+ps for some good trade thereby bringing higher intelligence into a cla.s.s which needed, not the elevation of the work itself, which was comparatively easy and refined, but of the workers.
She had therefore invested sum after sum of her capital in setting up various small shops in the environs of London, in her own former line, and others--stationers, lace-shops, etc.--trades which could be well carried on by women.--Into the management of these she put as many young girls as she could find really fitted for it, or willing to learn, paying them regular salaries, large or small, according to their deserts.
”Fair work, fair pay; not one penny more or less; I never do it; it would not be honest. I overlook each business myself, and it is carried on in my name. Sometimes it brings me in a little profit; sometimes not. Of course,” she added, smiling. ”I would rather have profits than losses; still, I balance one against the other, and it leaves me generally a small interest for my money--two or three per cent., which is all I care about. Thus, you see. I and my young people make a fair bargain on both sides; it's no charity. I don't believe in charity.”
”No,” said Hilary, feeling her spirit rise. She was yet young enough, yet enough unworn by the fight to feel the deliciousness of work--honest work for honest pay. ”I think I could do it,” she added.
”I think, with a little practice, I really could keep a shop.”
”At all events, perhaps you could do what I find more difficult to get done, and well done, for it requires a far higher cla.s.s of women than generally apply: you could keep the accounts of a shop; you should be the head, and it would be easy to find the hands, Let me see; there is a young lady, she has managed my stationer's business at Kensington these two years, and now she is going to be married.
Are you good at figures; do you understand book-keeping?”
And suddenly changing into the woman of business, and one who was evidently quite accustomed both to arrange and command, Miss Balquidder put Hilary through a sort of extempore arithmetical catechism, from which she came off with flying colors.
”I only wish there were more like you. I wish there were more young ladies brought up like--”
”Like boys!” said Hilary, laughing, ”for I always used to say that was my case.”
”No, I never desire to see young women made into men.” And Miss Balquidder seemed a little scandalized. ”But I do wish girls were taught fewer accomplishments, and more reading, writing, and arithmetic; were made as accurate, orderly, and able to help themselves as boys are. But to business. Will you take the management of my stationer's shop?”
Hilary's breath came hard and fast. Much as she had longed for work, to get this sort of work--to keep a stationer's shop? What would her sisters say? what would he say! But she dared not think of that just now.
”How much should I be able to earn, do you think?”
Miss Balquidder considered a moment, and then said, rather shortly, for it was not exactly acting on her own principles; she knew the pay was above the work. ”I will give you a hundred a year.”
A hundred a year! actually certain, and over and above any other income. It seemed a fortune to poor Hilary.
”Will you give me a day or two to think about it and consult my sisters?”