Valerie

The door opened, and Lionel made his appearance.

“Is it you, Lionel? What do you want?”

“I knew that you were up, and I recollected as we leave before you do, to-morrow, that you would have no one to cord your luggage, so I thought I would come up and do it for you to-night, Miss Valerie, if it is ready.”

“Thank you, Lionel, it is very considerate of you. I will lock the trunks up, and you can cord them outside.”

Lionel took out the trunks and corded them in the passage. When he had finished he said to me, “Good bye, Miss Valerie. You will see me again very soon.”

“See you very soon, Lionel! I am afraid there is no chance of that, for Lady R— intends to stay abroad for six months.”

“I do not,” replied he.

“Why, Lionel, it would be very foolish for you to give up such a good situation. You have such unusual wages: twenty pounds a year, is it not?”

“Yes, Miss Valerie. I should not get half that in another situation, but that is one reason why I am going to leave. Why should she give me twenty pounds a year. I must find out why, and find out I will, as I said to you before. She don’t give me twenty pounds for my beauty, although she might give you a great deal more, and yet not pay you half enough.”

“Well, Lionel, I think you have been here long enough. It is too late to sit up to pay compliments. Fare you well.”

I shut my door upon him gently, and then went to bed. As usual after excitement, I slept long and soundly. When I awoke the next morning, I found it was broad day, and nearly ten o’clock. I rang the bell, and it was answered by the cook, who told me that she and I were the only people in the house. I rose, and as I passed by my table, I perceived another package lying by the side of the one which Lady R— had given me. It was addressed to me and I opened it. It contained a miniature of Lady R— when she was about my age, and very beautiful she must have been. It was labelled “Sempronia at eighteen. Keep it for my sake, dear Valerie, and do not open the paper accompanying it until you have my permission, or you hear of my being no more.”

I laid the miniature down and opened the first packet given me by Lady R—. It contained bank-notes to the amount of one hundred pounds, nearly double the salary due to me. The contents of both these packets only made me feel more melancholy, and I sighed heavily as I put them in my dressing-case; but time ran on, and I had agreed to be at Lady M—’s at one o’clock, when the carriage would be sent for me. I therefore hastened my toilet, closed the remainder of my luggage, and went down to the breakfast which the cook had prepared for me. While I was at breakfast a letter was brought by the post. It had been directed to Madame Bathurst, and was redirected to Lady R—’s address. It was from Madame Paon, and as follows:—

“My dear Mademoiselle de Chatenoeuf,—

“As I take it for granted that you do not see the French papers, I write to tell you that your predictions relative to Monsieur G—, have all proved correct. A month after the marriage, he neglected madame, and spent his whole time at the gaming-table, only returning home to obtain fresh supplies from her. These were at last refused, and in his rage he struck her. A suit for separation of person and property was brought into court last week, and terminated in favour of Madame d’Albret, who retains all her fortune, and is rid of a monster. She came to me yesterday morning, and showed me the letter which you had written to her, asking me whether I did not correspond with you, and whether I thought, that after her conduct you could be prevailed upon to return to her. Of course I could not give any opinion, but I am convinced that if you only say that you forgive her, that she will write to you and make the request. I really do not well see how you can do otherwise, after the letter which you wrote to her, but of course you will decide for yourself. I trust, mademoiselle, you will favour me with a speedy answer, as Madame d’Albret is here every day, and is evidently very impatient,—I am, my dear mademoiselle, yours,

“Emile Paon.

“Née Mercé.”

To this letter I sent the following reply by that day’s post:—

“My dear Madame Paon,

“That I sincerely forgive Madame d’Albret is true; I do so from my heart; but although I forgive her, I cannot listen to any proposal to resume the position I once held. Recollect that she has driven all over Paris, and accused me among all her friends of ingratitude and slander. How then, after having been discarded for such conduct, could I again make my appearance in her company. Either I have done as she has stated, and if so, am unworthy of her patronage, or I have not done so, and therefore have been cruelly used: made to feel my dependence in the bitterest way, having been dismissed and thrown upon the world with loss of character. Could I ever feel secure or comfortable with her after such injustice? or could she feel at her ease on again presenting one as her protégée, whom she had so ill-treated? would she not have to blush every time that she met with any of our former mutual friends and acquaintances? It would be a series of humiliations to us both. Assure her of my forgiveness and good-will, and my wishes for her happiness; but to return to her is impossible. I would rather starve. If she knew what I have suffered in consequence of her hasty conduct towards me, she would pity me more than she may do now; but what is done is done. There is no remedy for it. Adieu, Madame Paon. Many thanks for your kindness to one so fallen as I am.

“Yours truly and sincerely,

“Valerie.”

I wrote the above under great depression of spirits, and it was with a heavy heart that I afterwards alighted at Lady M—’s residence in St James’s Square. If smiles, however, and cordial congratulations, and shakes of the hand could have consoled me, they were not wanting on the part of Lady M— and her daughters. I was shown all the rooms below, then Lady M—’s room, the young ladies’ rooms, and lastly my own, and was truly glad when I was at last left alone to unpack and arrange my things.

The room allotted to me was very comfortable, and better furnished than those in which the young ladies slept, and as far as appearances went, I was in all respects treated as a visitor and not as a governess. The maid who attended me was very civil, and as she assisted and laid my dresses in the wardrobe, made no attempt to be familiar. I ought to have informed the reader that Lady M— was a widow, Lord M— having died about two years before. Her eldest son, the present Lord M—, was on the continent. Dinner was announced; there were only two visitors, and I was treated as one of the company. In fact, nothing could be more gratifying than the manner in which I was treated. In the evening, I played and sang. The young ladies did the same; their voices were good, but they wanted expression in their singing, and I perceived that I could be useful.

Lady M— asked me, when we were not overheard, “what I thought of her daughters’ singing?”

I told her frankly.

“It is impossible to doubt the truth of what you say, my dear Mademoiselle de Chatenoeuf, after having heard your performance. I knew that you were considered a good performer, but I had no idea of the perfection which you have arrived at.”

“If your daughters are really fond of music, they would soon do as well, my lady,” replied I.

“Impossible,” exclaimed her ladyship; “but still they must gain something from listening to you. You look fatigued. Do you wish to go to bed? Augusta will go up with you.”

“I have a nervous headache,” replied I, “and I will accept your ladyship’s considerate proposal.”

Augusta, the eldest daughter, lighted a chamber-candle, and went up with me into my room. After a little conversation, she wished me good-night, and thus passed the first day in St James’s Square.

Chapter Eight

As arranged by Lady M—, the next day we went to Harking Castle, the family seat, in Dorsetshire, and I was not sorry to be again quiet, after the noise and bustle of a London season. As Lady M— had observed, the young ladies were sadly jaded with continual late hours and hot rooms, but they had not been a week in the country before they were improved in appearance and complexion. They certainly were amiable, nice girls; clever, and without pride, and I soon became attached to them. I attended to their music, and they made great progress. I also taught them the art of making flowers in wax, which I had so lately learned myself. This was all I could do, except mildly remonstrating with them when I saw what did not appear to me to be quite correct, in their conduct and deportment. Lady M— appeared quite satisfied, and treated me with great consideration, and I was in a short time very happy in my new position.

For the first month, there were no visitors in the house; after that, invitations were sent out. Lady M— had said that she would have a month’s quiet to recover herself from the fatigues of the season, and I had no doubt but that she also thought her daughters would be much benefited, as they really were, by a similar retirement. It was on the Monday that company was expected, and on Friday Lady M— desired Augusta, the eldest daughter, to put on a new dress which had just been made by the two lady’s-maids, and come down in it that she might see it on. When Augusta made her appearance, and her mother had surveyed the dress, she said, “I do not quite like it, Augusta, and yet I do not exactly know where it’s wrong; but something requires to be altered: it does not hang gracefully.”

As she said this, I was reading a book, and I naturally looked up, and immediately perceived the alteration which the dress required. I pointed it out, and with a few pins made the dress sit well.

“Why this is a new talent, my dear Mademoiselle de Chatenoeuf, one that I had no idea that you possessed; although I admit that no one dresses more elegantly than you do,” said Lady M—. “How much I am obliged to you for taking so much trouble.”

“I am most happy to be of any service, Lady M—, and you may always command me,” replied I. “I have the credit of being a very good milliner.”

“I believe you can do anything,” replied Lady M—.

“Augusta, go up to Benson and show her the alterations that are required, and tell her to make them directly.

“After all,” continued Lady M—, to me, “it is bad economy making dresses at home, but I really cannot afford to pay the extravagant prices charged by Madame Desbelli. My bills are monstrous, and my poverty, but not my will, consents. Still it does make such a difference in the appearance, being well-dressed, that if I could, I never would have a dress made at home; but the saving is astonishing—nearly two-thirds, I assure you.”

“If you will allow me to interfere a little, my lady,” replied I, “I think you can have them as well made at home as by Madame Desbelli. I think I can be useful.”

“You are very kind, Mademoiselle de Chatenoeuf, but it will be taxing you too much.”

“Not at all, Lady M—, if I have your sanction.”

“You shall do just as you please, my dear,” replied Lady M—; “I give you full authority over the whole household, if you wish it; but indeed I think Benson will be much obliged to you for any slight hint that you may give her, and I am sure that I shall; but the carriage is at the door—do you drive to-day?”

“Not to-day, I thank you, Lady M—,” replied I.

“Well, then, I will take Hortense and Amy with me, and leave Augusta with you.”

After Lady M—’s departure, I went up to the room where the maids were at work. I altered the arrangement of Augusta’s dress so as to suit her figure, and cut out the two others for Hortense and Amy. Wishing to please Lady M—, I worked myself at Augusta’s dress, and had it completed before Lady M— had returned from her drive. It certainly was now a very different affair, and Augusta looked remarkably well in it. She was delighted herself, and hastened down to her mother to show it to her. When I came down to dinner, Lady M— was profuse in her acknowledgments; the two other dresses, when finished, gave equal satisfaction, and from that time till the period of my quitting Lady M—, all the dresses, not only of the young ladies, but those of Lady M—, were made at home, and my taste and judgment invariably appealed to and most cheerfully given. I felt it my duty to be of all the use that I could be, and perhaps was not a little gratified by the compliments I received upon my exquisite taste. Time passed on; during the shooting season, Augusta, the eldest daughter, received a very good offer, which was accepted; and at the Christmas festivities, Hortense, the second girl, accepted another proposal, which was also very favourable. Lady M— was delighted at such success.

“Is it not strange, my dear Mademoiselle de Chatenoeuf, that I have been fagging two seasons, night and day, to get husbands for those girls, and now alone here, in solitude and retirement almost, they have both obtained excellent establishments. I do really declare that I believe it is all owing to you, and the delightful manner in which you have dressed them.”

“I should rather think that it is owing, in the first place, to their having so much improved in personal appearance since they have been down in the country,” replied I; “and further, to the gentlemen having now an opportunity of discovering their truly estimable qualities, which they were not likely to do at Almack’s or other parties during a London season.”

“You may think so,” replied Lady M—, “but it is my conviction that all is owing to their being so tastefully-dressed. Why every one admires the elegance of their costume, and requests patterns. Well, now I have only Amy on my hands, and I think that her sister’s high connections will assist in getting her off.”

“She is a sweet girl, Amy,” replied I, “and were I you Lady M—, I should be in no hurry to part with her.”