Courtship -- Fiction; England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Mate selection -- Fiction
“She kissed me just before she went on that fatal excursion, Baldwin;
she will never kiss me again--oh! oh! You must call on Dejazet for me,
and bespeak me a bonnet to match; it is not to be supposed I can run
about after her trumpery at such a time; besides, it is not usual.”
“Indeed, ma'am, you are in no state for it; I will undertake any
purchases you may require.”
“Thank you, my good Baldwin; you are a good, kind, feeling, useful
soul. Oh, Baldwin, if it had pleased Heaven to take her by disease, it
would have been bad enough to lose her; but to be drowned! her clothes
all wetted through and through; her poor hair drenched, too; and then
the water is so cold at this time of year--oh! oh! Send me a cross of
jet, and jet beads, with the dress, and a jet brooch, and a set of jet
buttons, in case--besides--oh! oh! oh!--I expect every moment to see
her carried home, all pale and wetted by the nasty sea--oh! oh!--and
an evening dress of the same--the newest fashion. I leave it to you;
don't ask me any questions about it, for I can't and won't go into
that. I can try it on when it is made--oh! oh! oh!--it does not do to
love any creature as I loved my poor lost Lucy--and a black fan---oh!
oh!--and a dozen pair of black kid gloves--oh!--and a
mourning-ring--and--”
“Stop, aunt, or your love for me will be your ruin!” said Lucy,
coldly, and stood suddenly before the pair, looking rather cynical.
“What, Lucy! alive! No, her ghost--ah! ah!”
“Be calm, aunt; I am alive and well. Now, don't be childish, dear; I
have been in danger, but here I am.”
Mrs. Bazalgette and Mrs. Baldwin flew together, and trembled in one
another's arms. Lucy tried to soothe them, but at last could not help
laughing at them. This brought Baldwin to her senses quicker than
anything; but Mrs. Bazalgette, who, like many false women, was
hysterical, went off into spasms--genuine ones. They gave her
salts--in vain. Slapped her hands--in vain.
Then Lucy cried to Baldwin, “Quick! the tumbler; I must sprinkle her
face and bosom.”
“Oh, don't spoil my lilac gown!” gasped the sufferer, and with a
mighty effort she came to. She would have come back from the edge of
the grave to shield silk from water. Finally she wreathed her arms
round Lucy, and kissed her so tenderly, warmly and sobbingly, that
Lucy got over the shock of her shallowness, and they kissed and cried
together most joyously, while Baldwin, after a heroic attempt at
jubilation, retired from the room with a face as long as your arm.
_A bas les revenants!!_ She went to the housekeeper's room. The
housekeeper persuaded her to stay and take a bit of dinner, and soon
after dinner she was sent for to Mrs. Bazalgette's room.
Lucy met her coming out of it. “I fear I came _mal apropos,_ Mrs.
Baldwin; if I had thought of it, I would have waited till you had
secured that munificent order.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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