Fan : The Story of a Young Girl's LifeHudson, W. H. (William Henry)
General
Fan : The Story of a Young Girl's Life
Hudson, W. H. (William Henry)
Fiction
“Come here and sit down,” she said, placing herself in one hall chair
and making Fan take the other. “Now listen. Would you like to come and
live here as my servant? You are not fit for such a place, I know--at
all events, not at present; and I should not put you with the other
servants, and upstairs you could do nothing. However that does not
signify. The thing is this. If you would like to come and live with me
you must stay here now, and never go back to those places where you have
lived, and try if possible to forget all about them.”
“Oh yes, ma'am, I promise!” she replied, trembling with joy at the very
thought of escaping from that life of bitter want and anxiety.
“Very well, that's settled then. Come this way with me.”
She then led the way to a large bath-room, a few steps above the
first-floor landing.
“Now,” she said, “undress yourself, and put all your clothes and hat and
shoes in a bundle in the corner--they are shocking to look at, and must
be taken away--and give yourself a hot bath. See, I am turning on the
water for you. That will be enough. And stay in as long as you like,
or can, and try not only to wash off all the dirt on your skin, but all
thought and recollection of Moon Street and Harrow Road and doorsteps,
and all the foul evil things you have seen and heard in your life; and
when you have washed all that off, Fan, and dried yourself, wrap this
shawl around you, and run into that open room you see facing the bath.”
Left to herself, Fan proceeded to obey the instructions she had
received. It was a great luxury to be in that smooth enamelled basin,
where she could lie at full length and move her limbs freely about,
experiencing the delicious sensation of the hot water over her whole
body at the same time.
In the dressing-room she found her mistress waiting for her. There were
clothes there ready for her, and now, for the first time in her life,
she dressed herself in new, clean, sweet garments, over all a gown of
a soft grey material, loose at the waist, and reaching nearly to the
ankles--a kind of “Maid Marian” costume. There were also black stockings
and new shoes. Everything fitted well, although they had all been made
the day before by guess in Westbourne Grove.
Miss Starbrow made her stand in the middle of the room, and turned
her round, while Fan glanced shyly at her own reflection in the tall
cheval-glass, almost wondering “if this be I.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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