CHAPTER XII.

CECILIA AND THE COUNTESS.

_Second Letter From_ MISS COLLUMPTON _in London to_ Miss Browne _in the country_.

"My Dearest Mora,-- . . . The close of my last letter left Clement and me in a hansom cab in the act of being driven to the lodgings of Mrs. Fildew. Clement told me that his mother had lately moved into fresh apartments no great distance from his studio. I cannot tell you how nervous I became as the moment of my introduction to Mrs. Fildew drew near. What if I should read in her eyes that she thought her son had chosen unwisely? It would not have mattered so much if Clement had not set such store by her opinion--if his love had been of that lukewarm kind which many grown-up sons have for their mother. But in this case it was different, and unless I were loved and liked by Clement's mother I should feel as if I possessed only half of Clement's heart.

"At length the cab stopped and my pulses beat faster than ever. Three minutes later I found myself in Mrs. Fildew's presence--found myself on my knees by her side, while her hands, that trembled a little, rested for a few moments on my hair and her eyes gazed anxiously and inquiringly into mine. Then she bent forward a little and pressed her lips to my forehead.

"'My boy has told me how much he loves you,' she said. 'But I welcome you here, not for his sake only, but for your own also. I often used to wish that Heaven had given me a daughter. At last my prayer has been answered.' Then she kissed me again, and after that I sat down close beside her, but she still kept possession of one of my hands and caressed it softly with hers.

"Mrs. Fildew is a pale and delicate-looking elderly lady, with a thin, worn face and a profusion of snow-white hair. When young she must have been very beautiful. I think I told you in my last letter that she has been a confirmed invalid for years. She cannot walk more than a few yards without great pain and difficulty. From the time she rises till the time she goes to bed she sits in a large easy-chair that runs on noiseless wheels, which Clement has had specially made for her. She can work the wheels with her hands, and so propel herself to any part of the room at will. She keeps one servant, a strong, middle-aged woman, who has been with her several years. Sometimes, on sunny afternoons, Mrs. Fildew and her chair are carried downstairs, and Martha takes her mistress for an airing up and down some of the streets where there is not much traffic, or as far as a certain florist's where they have fresh flowers in the window every morning.

"Once a week Clement comes with an open carriage and takes his mother for a drive into the country. The next time they go on one of these expeditions I am to go with them.

"Presently Martha brought in tea, which we drank out of quaint old biscuit-china, the cups being without handles, and the saucers excessively shallow. We had thin bread-and-butter, watercresses, sardines, damson jam, and a cake from the confectioner's. The tea itself was simply delicious--far superior to any that we ever have at home. The truth is, I suppose, that our servants don't know how to make tea properly; or else, which is quite as likely, they keep the best of it for themselves and only send us up what they leave. I don't think that I ever tasted watercresses before that afternoon; you have no idea how nice they are. To eat them is to be put in mind of country streamlets and all the sights and sounds that go with them--of hidden waterways that betray themselves by their babbling, and--But I 'loiter round my cresses.'

"This six-o'clock tea, with thin bread-and-butter and watercresses, is an 'institution' that I shall never despise again.

"When tea was over Clement had to go out on business, and Mrs. Fildew and I were left alone. Why do women seem all at once to become so confidential towards each other the moment there is no longer a man in the room? I say 'seem,' because such confidences are generally more apparent than real. Mrs. Fildew and I followed the universal rule. Although Clement was so dear to us, and although we talked of nothing in his absence that we might not have said freely before his face, yet the moment he had left the room a spell seemed taken off our tongues, and we both felt that we were going to enjoy a good long talk.

"I hope your situation is a comfortable one, my dear, and that you like it?' said Mrs. Fildew.

"I had to think for a moment, and call to mind what my situation was supposed to be before answering her that I liked it exceedingly.

"'Companion to a young lady, is it not? Yes. Well, I'm glad to hear that you are comfortable. Of course, you have nothing to do with cooking or the superintendence of housework?'

"'Nothing whatever, Mrs. Fildew.'

"'Do you know, my dear, I think that's rather a pity.'

"Why so, Mrs. Fildew?'

"'Because Clement is far from being a rich man, although, of course, there is no knowing what his talents may do for him in time to come, and it would be just as well that his wife should know how to manage and look after a small establishment without trusting too implicitly to her servants. But probably you had some training in such matters when you were a girl at home?'

"'Very little training of that kind,' I said rather bitterly. My face burned, and I felt humiliated by my ignorance.

"'Dear, dear! all young girls ought to be taught how to manage a house,' continued Mrs. Fildew, in that soft, low voice of hers, which seems as if it could never have spoken an unkind word to any one.

"'One is never too old to learn if one has a mind to do so, Mrs. Fildew,' I said.

"'Well spoken, my dear. The will to learn and a little perseverance will work wonders. I don't suppose that Clement will be able to afford more than one servant at first, and for twelve or fourteen pounds a year you can't expect to get a good cook, especially when she has to do the rest of the housework as well. Therefore it is all the more necessary that her mistress should be able to take an active part in all home matters. But I am afraid that you are underrating your knowledge. A woman who can roast a leg of mutton--or see it properly roasted--and who is not above beating up a pudding now and then, or turning out a little light pastry, need never be afraid of getting married.'

"'But, dear Mrs. Fildew, I can't do any of the things you mention,' I cried, with consternation. 'I never made a pudding or a bit of pastry in my life; and as for cooking a joint, I am afraid it would not be fit to send to table by the time I had done with it.'

"The dear old lady's busy fingers ceased their movements. She looked at me in silence for a moment, but I thought that her look seemed to say, 'Then, pray, young lady, what is there that you can do?'

"'People are generally what, they are taught to be,' I said, between laughing and crying. 'I cannot bake, or boil, or make preserves, but I know how to do one or two useless things. I can read Dante or Goethe in the originals. I can sketch from nature. I can play on the piano and the harp. People tell me that I can sing tolerably. I can drive, I can ride, and I can swim.'

"'Then, my dear, you are far too clever a young lady to enter a kitchen or look after the cooking of your husband's dinner. Clement ought to be, and no doubt is, very proud to think that he has won your heart; but you and he ought not to get married on less than a thousand a year.'

"I looked at Mrs. Fildew, in doubt whether her last speech was not meant as a sarcasm. But one glance into her dear face was enough to satisfy my mind on that point. I don't believe that she ever gave utterance to a sarcastic speech in her life. I am not aware, Mrs. Fildew, that I have expressed any anxiety to get married for ever such a long time to come. I am quite willing to wait--for years.'

"'Perhaps so, my dear, but Clement may not be possessed of your patience.'

"'But surely I shall have a voice in a matter of so much importance?'

"'Undoubtedly. But for all that, men generally contrive to get their own way in these things, as you will find.'

"I confess, Mora, that the thought of this early marriage frightens me. I ought to have bargained at the outset that it should not take place for a couple of years at the soonest. I know that you, with your strong mind, would say that it is not too late even now to 'put my foot down' and vow that I won't be married till I'm ready to be. But then, dear, I neither possess your strength of mind nor have you ever been in love, so that, all things considered, I'm afraid my resistance would be a very futile one. Methinks I hear you say, 'How humiliating of Cecilia to make such a confession!' Even so, sweet one. _N'importe_. I would not exchange my fetters for your freedom.

"'What a useless, good-for-nothing creature you must take me to be, Mrs. Fildew,' I said, glad to get away from the marriage question.

"'Indeed, my dear, but there is no such thought in my head. You have been brought up as if you were a young lady of fortune--that is all. And, now I come to think of it, I doubt very much whether Clement would allow his wife to trouble herself about kitchen arrangements or the proper cooking of a dinner. Men nowadays seem to think their wives are only made to be ornamental, and I suppose my boy will be no exception to the rule. When I was young things were different.'

"'I'll buy a cookery-book to-morrow,' I cried in desperation. 'It is never too late to learn.'

"Mrs. Fildew smiled at me, a little compassionately, as I thought.

"'It is never too late to make a good resolution,' she said. 'But if a young woman has not been trained up to housekeeping ways at home, it is not to be expected that she can take kindly to them when she grows up. I wouldn't bother about it if I were you, my dear. I dare say Clement will like you all the better for having been brought up as a fine lady.'

"But I kept my word, and next day I made myself the happy possessor of a cookery-book. My aunt never suspected that it was anything but a novel when I brought it out after luncheon. I read page after page of it, dipping here and there, till I had got a jumble of recipes mixed higgledy-piggledy in my brain, and was in a pitiable state of imbecility.

"Next morning I sought a private interview with Hannah, the cook, the result of which was that, in return for a certain consideration, she was to give me a lesson in the art of cookery of one hour's duration, each morning. I have had five lessons already; they are immense fun, and I can safely say that I never enjoyed my music-lessons half so much. You shall have a practical proof of the progress I have made as soon as you get back to Cadogan Place. We will have a little dinner 'all by our two selves,' as we used to say at school, every dish at which shall be cooked by your Cecilia. I have written out the _menu_ already.

"Of course your comment on all this will be, 'Just like Cecilia--just like her, to waste time and money over some scheme that can never possibly be of any practical use either to herself or anybody else.' But don't you know, dear, that knowledge is power? Besides, one never can tell what may happen. Some day my husband may be a poor man, and then I shall be able to astonish him. By-the-bye, do you know what a roly-poly dumpling is? If you don't there is a treat in store for you. I made a monster one yesterday for the servants. I will make a little one for you and me when I get you back again.

"I don't think I have told you yet how Mrs. Fildew occupies her time. She mends old lace for a large emporium at the West End. The way in which she does it, so as to all but defy detection, is marvellous. It seems to me a charming occupation for a poor gentlewoman, combining in itself the practical and the æsthetical. I could sit and watch her for hours as she deftly takes up stitch after stitch and loop after loop till ragged leaf and frayed flower look as good as new.

"Clement had never talked to me much about his father, but from Mrs. Fildew I learned several particulars concerning him. That he was a gentleman born and a gentleman bred Mrs. Fildew was very particular in striving to impress on my mind. It appears that they were married in America, and there my Clement was born. Mr. Fildew, senior, it would seem, was so entirely a gentleman that it was never expected of him that he should do anything for a living. 'You know, dear, I am not a lady by birth,' said Mrs. Fildew, frankly; therefore, of course, it is only right and proper that I should work--in fact, I could not live without it. And then there is Clement; so that, altogether, we are very comfortable in our humble way.'

"Not knowing what to say, I said nothing.

"'My husband is from home just now,' continued Mrs. Fildew. 'If you had been here three days ago you would have seen him. Some old friend of his has come into a large property and has asked John to go down to his place and put it into something like order for him. Of course, this is not like any ordinary kind of work, or I should not have been willing for him to go. It is merely a little service rendered by one friend to another. My husband has been a gentleman all his life, and it would never do for him to lower himself to any commonplace drudgery now.'

"'I should very much like to see Mr. Fildew,' I said--and so I should. I think I can understand now why Clement hardly ever mentions his name.

"I don't expect him in town for two or three weeks, but when he does come Clement must bring you and introduce you to him. There is an aristocratic style, an air of distinction, about Mr. Fildew, which you will not fail to recognize at once. Clement has the same style, only in a lesser degree; but he will never be as handsome a man as his father.'

"Presently Clement came in, and then we had some music. I find that my boy,' as his mother fondly calls him, plays the violin. With that and the piano, and your Cecilia's thin soprano, the evening was gone far too quickly. It was a happy time. Ten o'clock brought a cab, and half an hour later I was at home. Goodnight and God bless you. More another day.

"Your affectionate friend, C. C."