“Dissembling hope, her cloudy front she clears, And a false vigor in her eyes appears.”—Dryden.
She alighted from the carriage when it stopped at the door, and entered the shop, where, to her inexpressible satisfaction, the first object she beheld was Miss Rushbrook, sitting pensively at one of the counters. The moment she saw Amanda she recollected her, and, starting up, exclaimed, as she took her hand, “Ah! dear madam, this is indeed a joyful surprise! Ah! how often have I wished to meet you again to express my gratitude.” The affectionate reception she met, and the unexpected sight of Miss Rushbrook, seemed to promise Amanda that her wishes relative to Rushbrook would not only be accelerated, but crowned with success. She returned the fervent pressure of Miss Rushbrook’s hand, and inquired after her parents—the inquiry appeared distressing, and she was answered, with hesitation, that they were indifferent. The evident embarrassment her question excited prevented her renewing it at this time. The mistress of the house was not present, and Amanda requested, if she was within, she might see her directly. Miss Rushbrook immediately stepped to a parlor behind the shop, and almost instantly returned, followed by the lady herself, who was a little fat Irish woman, past her prime, but not past her relish for the good things of this life. “Dear madam,” said she, curtseying to Amanda, “you are very welcome. I protest I am very glad to see you, though I never had that pleasure but once before; but it is no wonder I should be so, for I have heard your praises every day since, I am sure, from that young lady,” looking at Miss Rushbrook. Amanda bowed, but her heart was too full of the purpose of this visit to allow her to speak about anything else. She was just come from the country, she told Mrs. Connel, where (she sighed as she spoke) she had left her friends, and, being unwilling to go amongst[Pg 475] total strangers, she had come to her house in hopes of being able to procure lodgings in it.
“Dear ma’am,” said Mrs. Connel, “I protest I should have been happy to have accommodated you, but at present my house is quite full.”
The disappointment this speech gave Amanda rendered her silent for a moment, and she was then going to ask Mrs. Connel if she could recommend her to a lodging, when she perceived Miss Rushbrook whispering her. “Why, madam,” cried the former, who, by a nod of her head, seemed to approve of what the latter had been saying, “since you dislike so much going among strangers, which, indeed, shows your prudence, considering what queer kind of people are in the world, Miss Emily says, that if you condescend to accept of part of her little bed, till you can settle yourself more comfortably in town, you shall be extremely welcome to it; and I can assure you, madam, I shall do everything in my power to render my house agreeable to you.” “Oh, most joyfully, most thankfully, do I accept the offer,” said Amanda, whose heart had sunk at the idea of going amongst strangers. “Any place,” she continued, speaking in the fulness of that agitated heart, “beneath so reputable a roof, would be an asylum of comfort I should prefer to a palace, if utterly unacquainted with the people who inhabited it.” Her trunk was now brought in, and the carriage discharged. “I suppose, ma’am,” said Mrs. Connel, looking at the trunk on which her assumed name was marked, “you are Scotch by your name, though, indeed, you have not much of the accent about you.” “I declare,” cried Emily, also looking at it, “till this moment I was ignorant of your name.”
Amanda was pleased to hear this, and resolved not to disclose her real one, except convinced Rushbrook would interest himself in her affairs. She was conducted into the parlor, which was neatly furnished, and opened into the shop by a glass door. Mrs. Connel stirred a declining fire into a cheerful blaze, and desired to know if Amanda would choose anything for dinner. “Speak the word only, my dear,” said she, “and I think I can procure you a cold bone in the house. If you had come two hours sooner, I could have given you a bit of nice veal for your dinner.” Amanda assured her she did not wish to take anything till tea-time.
“Well, well,” cried Mrs. Connel, “you shall have a snug cup of tea by and by, and a hot muffin with it. I am very fond of tea myself, though poor Mr. Connel, who is dead and gone, used often and often to say, ‘I that was so nervous should never[Pg 476] touch tea;’ ‘but, Biddy,’ he would say, and he would laugh so, poor clear man, ‘you and all your sex are like your mother Eve, unable to resist temptation.’”
Emily retired soon after Amanda entered; but returned in a few minutes with her hat and cloak on, and said, nothing but a visit she must pay her parents should have induced her to forego, for the first evening, at least, the pleasure of Miss Donald’s society. Amanda thanked her for her politeness, but assured her if considered as a restraint she should be unhappy.
“I assure you,” said Mrs. Connel, as Emily departed, “she is very fond of you.” “I am happy to hear it,” replied Amanda, “for I think her a most amiable girl.” “Indeed she is,” cried the other; “all the fault I find with her is being too grave for her time of life. Poor thing, one cannot wonder at that, however, considering the situation of her parents.” “I hope,” interrupted Amanda, “it is not so bad as it was.” “Bad! Lord! it cannot be worse; the poor captain has been in jail above a year.” “I am sorry,” said Amanda, “to hear this. Has any application been made to Lady Greystock since his confinement?” “To Lady Greystock! why, Lord! one might as well apply to one of the wild beasts in the Tower! Ah! poor gentleman, if he was never to get nothing but what she gave him, I believe he would not long be a trouble to any one. It is now about fourteen years since my acquaintance with him first commenced. My poor husband, that is no more, and I kept a shop in Dublin, where the captain’s regiment was quartered, and he being only a lieutenant had not room enough for his family in the barracks, so he took lodgings at our house, where Mrs. Rushbrook lay in, and I being with her now and then during her confinement, a kind of friendship grew up amongst us. They had not left us long to go to America, when a relation of my husband, who owned this house and shop, having lost his wife, and being lonesome, without either chick or child, invited us to come and live with him, promising us if we did, to settle us in his business, and leave us everything he had. Well, such offers do not come every day; so, to be sure, we took him at his word; and here we had not long been when the poor man bid adieu to all mortal care, and was soon followed by Mr. Connel. Well, to be sure, I was sad and solitary enough; but when I thought how irreligious it was to break one’s heart with grief, I plucked up my spirits and began to hold up my head again. So, to make a short story of a long one, about six years ago Mrs. Rushbrook and Miss Emily came one day into[Pg 477] the shop to buy something, little thinking they should see an old friend. It was, to be sure, a meeting of joy and sorrow, as one may say. We told all our griefs to each other, and I found things were very bad with the poor captain. Indeed I have a great regard for him and his family, and when he was confined, I took Emily home as an assistant in my business. The money she earned was to go to her parents, and I agreed to give her her clothes gratis; but that would have gone but a little way in feeding so many mouths, had I not procured plain work for Mrs. Rushbrook and her daughters. Emily is a very good girl, indeed, and it is to see her parents she is now gone. But while I am gabbling away I am sure the kettle is boiling.” So saying, she started up, and ringing the bell, took the tea-things from a beaufet where they were kept. The maid having obeyed the well-known summons, then retired; and as soon as the tea was made, and the muffins buttered, Mrs. Connel............