The hope of self-dependence, ever cheering to an upright mind, sweetened the rest of Ellis in her mean little apartment, though with no brighter prospect than that of procuring a laborious support, through the means of Miss Matson, should she fail to obtain a recommendation for the superiour office of a governess.
The decision was yet pending, when a letter from Selina charged her, in the name of Mrs Maple, to adopt, as yet, no positive measure, in order to put an end to the further circulation of wonder, that a young lady should go from under Mrs Maple’s protection, to a poor little lodging, without any attendant, and avowedly in search of a maintenance: and, further, Selina was bid to add, that, if she would be manageable, she might still persist in passing for a young gentlewoman; and Mrs Maple would say that she was reduced to such straights by a bankruptcy in her family; rather than shock all the ladies who had conversed with her as Mrs Maple’s guest, by telling the truth. Mrs Howel, too, with the approbation of Lord Denmeath himself, to keep her out of the way of Lord Melbury, would try to get her the place of an humble companion to some sick old lady who would take up with her reading and singing, and ask no questions.
Ellis, with utter contempt, was still perusing this letter, when she was surprised by a visit from Miss Arbe and Miss Bydel.
Miss Arbe had just been calling upon Mrs Maple, by whom she had been told the plan of Mrs Howel, and the plausible tale of its sudden necessity. Finding Ellis still under a protection so respectable, the wish of a little musical intercourse revived in Miss Arbe; and she remarked to Miss Bydel, that it would be a real charity, to see what could be done for an accomplished young woman of family, in circumstances so lamentable.
The reception they met with from Ellis was extremely cold. The careless air with which Miss Arbe had heard, without entering into her distress; and the indifference with which she had suddenly dropt the invitations that, the minute before, had been urgent nearly to persecution, had left an impression of the littleness of her character upon the mind of Ellis, that made her present civilities, though offered with a look that implied an expectation of gratitude, received with the most distant reserve. And still less was she disposed to welcome Miss Bydel, whose behaviour, upon the same occasion, had been rude as well as unfeeling.
Neither of them, however, were rebuffed, though Miss Arbe was disappointed, and Miss Bydel was amazed: but Miss Arbe had a point to carry, and would not be put from her purpose; and Miss Bydel, though she thought it but odd not to be made of more consequence, could not be hurt from a feeling which she neither possessed nor understood,—delicacy.
‘So I hear, Miss Ellis, you have met with misfortunes?’ Miss Bydel began: ‘I am sorry for it, I assure you; though I am sure I don’t know who escapes. But I want to know how it all first began. Pray, my dear, in what manner did you set out in life? A great deal of one’s pity depends upon what people are used to.’
‘What most concerns me for poor Miss Ellis,’ said Miss Arbe, ‘is her having no instrument. I can’t think how she can live without one. Why don’t you hire a harp, Miss Ellis?’
Ellis quietly answered, that she was not very musically inclined.
‘But you must not think how you are inclined,’ said Miss Bydel, ‘if you are to go out for a companion, as Mrs Howel wants you to do; for I am sure I don’t know who you will get to take you, if you do. I have known pretty many young women in that capacity, and not one among them ever had such a thought. How should they? People do not pay them for that.’
‘I only hope,’ said Miss Arbe, ‘that whoever has the good fortune to obtain the society of Miss Ellis, will have a taste for music. ’Twill be a thousand shames if her fine talents should be thrown away.’
Ellis, as she suspected not her design, was much surprised by this return to fine speeches. Still, however, she sustained her own reserve, for the difficulty of devising to what the change might be owing, made her cast it upon mere caprice. To the enquiries, also, of Miss Bydel, she was equally immoveable, as they evidently sprang from coarse and general curiosity.
This distance, however, was not successful, either in stopping the questions of Miss Bydel, or the compliments of Miss Arbe. Each followed the bent of her humour, till Miss Arbe, at length, started an idea that caught the attention of Ellis: this was, that instead of becoming an humble companion, she should bring her musical acquirements into use, by giving lessons to young ladies.
Ellis readily owned that such a plan would be best adapted to her inclinations, if Mrs Howel and Mrs Maple could be prevailed upon to exert their influence in procuring her some scholars.
‘But a good word or two from Miss Arbe,’ said Miss Bydel, ‘would do more for you, in that tuning way, than all their’s put together. I should like to know how it was you got this musical turn, Miss Ellis? Were your own friends rich enough, my dear, before their bankruptcy, to give you such an education themselves? or did it all come, as one may say, from a sort of knack?’
Ellis earnestly asked whether she might hope for the powerful aid of Miss Arbe to forward such a plan?
Miss Arbe, now, resumed all her dignity, as an acknowledged judge of the fine arts, and a solicited patroness of their votaries. With smiles, therefore, of ineffable affability, she promised Ellis her protection; and glibly ran over the names of twenty or thirty families of distinction, every one of which, she said, in the choice of instructors to their children, was guided by her opinion.
‘But then,’ added she, with an air that now mingled authority with condescension, ‘you must have a better room than this, you know. The house is well enough, and the milliner is fashionable: she is my own; but this little hole will never do: you must take the drawing room. And then you must buy immediately, or at least hire, a very fine instrument. There is a delightful one at Strode’s now: one I long for myself, and then—’ patting her shoulder, ‘you must dress, too, a little ... like other people, you know.’
‘But how is she to do it,’ said Miss Bydel, ‘if she has got no money?’
Ellis, however ashamed, felt rather assisted than displeased by this plump truth; but it produced no effect upon Miss Arbe, who lightly replied, ‘O, we must not be shabby. We must get things a little decent about us. A few scholars of my recommending will soon set all that to rights. Take my advice, Miss Ellis, and you won’t find yourself vastly to be pitied.’
‘But what have you got to begin with?’ said Miss Bydel. ‘How much have you in hand?’
‘Nothing!’ answered Ellis, precipitately: ‘I lost my purse at Dover, and I have been destitute ever since! Dependant wholly upon accidental benevolence.’
Miss Bydel, now, was extremely gratified: this was the first time that she had surprized from Ellis any account of herself, and she admitted not a doubt that it would be followed by her whole history. ‘That was unlucky enough,’ she said; ‘and pray what money might you have in it?’
Ellis, strongly affected herself, though she had not affected her auditors, by the retrospection of a misfortune which had been so eventful to her of distress, said no more; till she saw some alarm upon the countenance of Miss Arbe, at the idea of a protegée really pennyless; and then, fearing to forfeit her patronage, she mentioned the twenty pounds which she owed to the generous kindness of Lady Aurora Granville.
Miss Arbe now smiled more complacently than ever; and Miss Bydel, straining wide open her large dull eyes, repeated, ‘Twenty pounds? Good me! has Lady Aurora given you twenty pounds?’
‘The money,’ said Ellis, blushing, ‘I hope I may one day return: the goodness surpasses all requital.’
‘Well, if that is the case, we must all try to do something for you, my dear. I did not know of any body’s having begun. And I am never for being the first in those sort of subscriptions; for I think them little better than picking people’s pockets. Besides that I entirely disapprove bringing persons that are poor into habits of laziness. However, if Lady Aurora has given so handsomely, one does not know how to refuse a trifle. So, I tell you what; I’ll pay you a month’s hire of a harp.’
Ellis, deeply colouring, begged to decline this offer; but Miss Arbe, with an air of self-approbation that said: I won&rsq............