England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; English fiction -- 19th century
At this moment a servant entered with tea, and Emmeline, sorely
flurried, talked rapidly of the advantages of Sutton as a residence.
She did not allow her visitor to put in a word till the door closed
again. Then, with an air of decision, she announced her terms; they
would be three guineas a week. It was half a guinea more than she
and Clarence had decided to ask. She expected, she hoped, Mrs.
Higgins would look grave. But nothing of the kind; Louise's mother
seemed to think the suggestion very reasonable. Thereupon Emmeline
added that, of course, the young lady would discharge her own
laundress's bill. To this also Mrs. Higgins readily assented.
'A hundred and sixty pounds per annum!' Emmeline kept repeating to
herself. And, alas! it looked as if she might have asked much more.
The reference difficulty might be minimised by naming her own
married sister, who lived at Blackheath, and Clarence's most
intimate friend, Mr. Tarling, who held a good position in a City
house, and had a most respectable address at West Kensington. But
her heart misgave her. She dreaded her husband's return home.
The conversation was prolonged for half-an-hour. Emmeline gave her
references, and in return requested the like from Mrs. Higgins. This
astonished the good woman. Why, her husband was Messrs. 'Iggins of
Fenchurch Street! Oh, a mere formality, Emmeline hastened to
add--for Mr. Mumford's satisfaction. So Mrs. Higgins very pompously
named two City firms, and negotiations, for the present, were at an
end.
Louise, summoned to the drawing-room, looked rather tired of
waiting.
'When can you have me, Mrs. Mumford?' she asked. 'I've quite made up
my mind to come.'
'I'm afraid a day or two must pass, Miss Derrick--'
'The references, my dear,' began Mrs. Higgins.
'Oh, nonsense! It's all right; anyone can see.'
'There you go! Always cutting short the words in my mouth. I can't
endure such behaviour, and I wonder what Mrs. Rumford thinks of it.
I've given Mrs. Rumford fair warning--'
They wrangled for a few minutes, Emmeline feeling too depressed and
anxious to interpose with polite commonplaces. When at length they
took their leave, she saw the last of them with a sigh of
thanksgiving. It had happened most fortunately that no one called
this afternoon.
'Clarence, it's _quite_ out of the question.' Thus she greeted her
husband. 'The girl herself I could endure, but oh, her odious
mother!--Three guineas a week! I could cry over the thought.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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