CHAPTER IV.

"The wondering stranger round him gazed, All spoke neglect and disrepair."

SIR WALTER SCOTT.

William sought the capricious storekeeper in the proper sphere of his labour, viz. the store-room, and, as he had anticipated, found him deeply engaged in some imaginarily abstruse piece of figurative collocation, from the study of which he relieved his brain and raised his eyes at the sound of intrusive steps. William advanced with outstretched hand, which was humbly and respectfully taken by Mr. Billing; who, as he removed his spectacles from his nose, and shifted, we will not say rose from his desk, answered to his visitor's sanitary enquiry in his blandest manner: "I thank you, Mr. Ferguson; it affords me great satisfaction to say I am in the enjoyment of excellent health, and trust, my dear sir, a similar blessing is dispensed to yourself."

"Well, thank you, Mr. Billing," replied William, "I am pretty well. But don't let me disturb you if you are busy, I have just called in to see and have a chat with you; but if you are engaged I will not interrupt you; for I thoroughly agree to the principle that business must be attended to."

"I assure you, sir," said Mr. Billing, "I appreciate your kindness in thinking me worthy of your consideration. I feel favoured, sir, beyond measure; and if you will still further honour me by gracing our humble dwelling, I can say, sir, with confidence Mrs. Billing will be equally as delighted as myself."

"But I hope, Mr. Billing, I am not taking you away from your business," said William.

"By no means, my dear sir," exclaimed that urbane individual, "however engrossed I might be in my mental or corporeal occupations, the respite, sir, from those labours, when it is occasioned by the honour of a visit from a young gentleman of your talent and abilities, is of too valuable a nature, sir, not to be gratefully seized by your humble servant. Pray accept my best thanks, sir, for your attention, and permit me to invite you, sir, to our unpretending abode; for lowly it is, and not of those pretensions I could desire, sir, nor of such as it has been my lot at a former period of my life to possess, yet, sir, to it I can offer an Englishman's adjunct, a hearty welcome."

"I am very much obliged to you, Mr. Billing," replied William, "and will be happy to accept of your hospitality."

"This way then, Mr. Ferguson," said Mr. Billing. "Allow me to close the door of the store. I always lock it in my absence to prevent, sir, any unpleasant affairs, such as have occurred here, you know. If you will be good enough to step this way, sir? I must apologize beforehand, for the litter which I expect you will find, sir, in our domicile by explaining that Mrs. Billing does not anticipate the pleasure of visitors."

Considering the sight that greeted the eyes of William as he entered the cottage, such an apology was certainly necessary, or rather unnecessary, to prepare him for what he was to witness. We said necessary, to excuse the lady of the house for the chaotic arrangements of her household, seeing that one couldn't enter the dwelling without being painfully aware that slovenliness and disorder reigned supreme. Therefore we corrected ourselves in the expression, and stated the absence of such necessity; as no one could be so blind as to imagine that the litter which Mr. Billing alluded to was merely the result of an occasion; for it was too palpably evident that the spirit of disorganization was the presiding genius of the Billing mansion, and, moreover, the visitor would be strengthened in the conviction the very moment he cast his eyes upon the wife of Mr. Billing's bosom. We will repeat then that Mr. Billing made numerous apologies for the disorder to which he was about to usher William Ferguson; and we may safely conjecture that William was not a little surprised when all the internal arrangements of the home burst upon his vision.

"Let me show you to my domicile, Mr. Ferguson," said the little man in rather a pompous way; "as usual, sir, the house is turned topsey-turvey, Mrs. Billing is such a woman for cleanliness. You have no doubt, Mr. Ferguson (though you have not yet become entangled in the meshes of matrimony), heard of the nuisance of a musical wife; let me equally warn you, sir, against choosing the partner of your connubial bliss, from those of too cleanly a predilection. My spouse, sir, for instance, has periodical fits for cleansing (and I regret to say, sir, they are of too frequent occurrence for my especial comfort); then nothing but dust, soap and water, and disquietude pervades the house for a full twelve or twenty-four hours. You are aware, sir, 'at home' (I mean of course in Old England) we paterfamiliases are taught, sir, to look upon washing-days as the very superlative of domestic misery; but my wife always had a propensity for having something like a washing-day very nearly six times a week, sir; and she has brought her customs and prejudices with her to this barbarous country. But come in, my dear sir, and take a seat, while I inform Mrs. Billing of your presence; and if I may be so bold, sir, as to add, I will entreat you to make yourself quite at home."

This introductory prologue of Mr. Billing's was delivered as he stood with the door slightly ajar, and holding it by the handle while he addressed William, no doubt to fully prepare him to a proper appreciation of the merits of the lady to whom he was about to be introduced. When we say introduced we do not mean that formal ceremony in which strangers are brought to a mutual acquaintance (for William had frequently before met Mrs. Billing), but the mere act of being ushered to her presence in a house into which he, as yet, had never entered. Mr. Billing had stood, door in hand, while he uttered about half of his last sentence, when William saw, or fancied he saw, a female hand suddenly draw back the cover of a muslin blind that screened the lower part of a window situated in close proximity to the door at which he stood. Instantly thereafter a female head was substituted in its place, but as instantly withdrawn; while the noise of some falling object was distinctly heard, and was as speedily followed by that of a hastily closed door; all of them unmistakeable signs of a surprisal and retreat.

At this moment Mr. Billing pushed open the door and entered the evacuated room, in which he concluded his lugubrious notice of his lesser half's peculiarities, and desired his visitor to take a seat; which his visitor, picking up a chair that lay prostrate on the floor, accordingly did; and Mr. Billing went in search of his lady. Judging from the seeming confidence with which he walked into an apartment entering from the one which William sat in, forming the only other one in the front of the cottage, the operation was one of more certitude than the verb he made use off would imply; and also judging from the subdued whispers that William could overhear through the thin wooden partition that constituted the wall of the room, the search was also attended with wonderful success. But during Mr. Billing's absence to look for his spouse, let us join our young friend in his general inspection of the furnishing and upholstery department of the establishment.

In the first place we must say, distinctly and candidly, that the room was furnished badly. Not that there was any paucity in the collection; but the articles, though numerous, taken in the abstract, with the greatest regard to symmetry, contrast, and beauty, and the best possible display of talent in their collocation, any one with the slightest pretensions to comfort, we are certain would eliminate the entire mass; and any appraiser, if such an individual existed, within the boundaries of New South Wales, if called in to take an inventory, would elevate both his nose and his shoulders.

But we will, with the reader's kind permission, give a short description, for the benefit of young couples about to furnish; and out of respect for the feelings and the patience of those of our readers, who have no desire or necessity for such detail, we will epitomize the catalogue as much as possible.

First then we must state that there was no semblance of order in the arrangements. Far from it; in fact, quite the reverse. All things seemed to have been placed with a predetermination on the part of some one to create as much confusion as possible, and to put each individual article into as awkward a position as imaginable. It is true William had rescued a chair from a lowly position, and had placed it on an unoccupied spot on the floor, and used it for the purpose for which in its construction it was intended. But it was well our young friend was not of an erratic disposition, for if he had been bent upon voyages of discovery, other than could be effected by his eyes, he would have found himself in as great a labyrinth as ever impeded the progress of the polar explorers. The fact was William was perfectly hemmed in; so that, with the exception of a small spot that was partially occupied by his chair, there was no room to stir, or at least very little; and he did not consider it wise, or politic, to risk his knees and shins in an attempt to penetrate into the thickly timbered recesses of the apartment. As he sat in the midst of this mass, which seemed to have been collected as the entire furniture of a dwelling, deposited in a room for the convenience of the van that officiates at flittings, he almost looked like an anxious emigrant keeping guard over his effects when landed in a strange country, or as "Caius Marius mourning over the ruins of Carthage."

But we have wandered from our task, our self-imposed descriptive task, which we confess ourselves at a loss to perform with satisfaction; for having no cabinet-making knowledge, and never having before been called upon to take an inventory of such chattels, we feel ourselves, to make use of a vulgar idiom, "all abroad." We fear we have assumed the title and privileges of the author without considering whether or not we are possessed of the attributes pertaining to one; and, in our insensate conceit, we are afraid we have forgotten the absence of that recondite perspicuity and facile elucidation which are imperatively essential to the character we have arrogated. But we fancy we hear some of our impatient readers exclaim, "We wish you would tell us, without 'beating about the bush,' what the room contains; it is all nonsense your making excuses now, you should have thought of your incapacity before you commenced your history, and must go on with it; all we can do is to pity and smile at your ignorance;" and we exclaim, "A thousand thanks, kind readers! That is the very lenience we wished to evoke; we now can proceed with confidence, if not in our powers of depiction, at least in your charity and forbearance."

Well then, in the centre of the room stood a table, which we venture to say had not been displaced in the general disorganization, notwithstanding that its satellites had. There was nothing extraordinary about this table, and yet there was a something which inspired awe, or at least curiosity, and that would lead to the enquiry, Whence came it? and this was precisely William's thought. Ah! that was a rare old table, and struck William with a desire to know its history; but unfortunately it had not the power to satisfy his enquiring mind; and he, having no one at the time with him from whom he could glean the information, was not likely to be the wiser. With the reader, however, we will not be so harsh or uncommunicative, but will make use of our knowledge, and impart the secret of its life; at least from the time whence it boasted of Mr. Billing as its owner. First, however, we will give a sketch of its general appearance.

When we called it a table, we should have in greater justice said two tables, for, though one, it was also two. This seeming paradox may be explained by stating that, as it stood, it was one, but in its integral parts it could be spoken of in the plural number; in fact, to descend to the common vernacular mode of expression, we will say they were two side leaf-tables that had graced the parlour windows of the little box at Brixton. The leaves were, and had been for many years (in fact, rarely otherwise), quiescent, and were each made to hide its diminished head in a close contiguity to the object's crural appendages. The two tables, thus reduced to their natural bounds, were arranged with an affectionate concomitance so as to act the part of a table of family pretensions. It was of mahogany; and we will assume the postulation, that it was of solid mahogany, to which assumption we are led from its antique appearance, presuming that in the good old days of our ancestors, that refined species of humbug and deception, yclept veneering, was not in vogue, as our forefathers, so we are told, could not tolerate anything but what was substantial. But how sadly have we degenerated in these latter days! We now no longer perpetuate their creed, or retain any of their material predilections, except those for beef, beer, "bacca," and bills.

But to return to the table. We said it was mahogany, but we must correct ourselves; we mean it was so originally, when it stood in the parlour at Brixton, but now no longer could it be said to be of that wood. If it but spoke, what "tales it could unfold" of voyages, journeys, mishaps, and accidents, that would put the whole fraternity of aristocratic loos far into the shade. Mr. Billing was wont to say he loved that old table as much as hundreds of individuals are in the habit of affirming a similar affection for a certain "old arm chair." He would also inform his friends, when in a communicative mood, that that table had belonged to his friend Lord Tom Noddy, whom he knew very well; but, unfortunately for our poor little friend's aristocratic reputation, on one occasion when he was a little "farther gone" than was usually his habit to go, the truth of _in vino veritas_ was exemplified. On that occasion he innocently informed his friends, that, of course, the Lord Tom Noddy did not know him; that he, Mr. B., had bought the table at a sale of that nobleman's effects, when the inconvenient demands of low tradespeople rendered a sojourn in London exceedingly annoying to his lordship, and induced him to fancy his health demanded attention and his person relaxation and continental air. But still Mr. Billing could boast of what very few, if any, men in Australia could, that is, that he was possessed of a table that had belonged to a real, live lord; and many were those who were made aware of the fact.

We fear we are not confining ourselves to a succinct account of minutiæ, but are again running too much into detail of no moment; and we will, therefore, continue more briefly the history and description of this wonderful piece of furniture. It had been considered too great a treasure to be sacrificed in the break-up of the Brixton "box;" consequently it was carried off to gladden the eyes and astonish the nerves of the natives of Australia. As we have already said, many were the misfortunes it had gone through in its various peregrinations, and vast the trouble it had been to its present owner, who, notwithstanding, through all his vicissitudes, stuck to it as long as it stuck to him. Lord Tom Noddy's table was in much the same predicament as Jack's knife, which had had five new blades and three new handles; for his lordship's table had had innumerable splicings, nailings, screwings, patchings, and new leggings, composed of a variety of fibrous material, and of numerous colours and artistic designs. Yet there it stood, with its legs of an unequal longitude, some with castors and some without (the latter being supplied with a stone or a piece of wood, to preserve as nearly as possible the equilibrium); and, with more than one bandage to conceal a fractured limb, this relic of the past, this trophy of Mr. Billing's palmy days, and proof of his intercourse with aristocracy, preserved a dignified composure, like a veteran surveying the scene of a triumph. We said that the table stood in the centre of the room, and bore no evidences of having been moved in the general disorder; of this we were morally certain, for, judging by its paralytic appearance, it threatened a speedy dissolution if touched.

The other members of this conglomerate fraternity were some dozen chairs, more or less, also in various stages of dilapidation, and of them we can say much in a few words. They were American, machine-made, cane-bottomed, painted, and patent varnished ladies' and gent's body supporters, and bore the same relation to civilized furniture as Dutch clocks used to do to the old-cased patriarchs, that in our halls marked the phases of fleeting time.

They were "machine-made," we say, that is, the legs, bars, etc., were cut and turned by machinery; they were possessed of cane bottoms, whether also arranged by machinery or not, we can't say, though they were painted and varnished by its aid. But why such ordinary articles of domestic use should be patent we are at a loss to comprehend, unless it were for the design, or in the operation of painting the decorating portion, which consisted of an application of gilt varnish on the front of each leg and prominent part of the seat, and the representation on the back, in high colours and gilt, of some flowers and fruit, which it would be difficult to match with originals, from all the varieties that have been produced, from the Eden apple downwards.

The next article was a sort of chiffonnier, a piece of furniture that made a great display; with crystal and china arranged with precision on the top, and a protecting covering of chintz, no doubt the uninitiated would imagine, to keep the polish from sustaining any injury. But must we discover the truth? Oh! deceitfulness of man, and, we may add, of woman too. This elegant and costly piece of furniture was nothing but a large deal box placed up on end, with rough shelves fixed into it to add to its utility, and with a gaudy cover put over it to hide its nakedness. There was another article of a similar construction, a luxuriant-looking ottoman, and a sofa which had originally, no doubt, been of polished cedar (of which wood, we may remark, all the best colonial furniture is made, and found to equal, if not excel, Honduras mahogany), and with horse-hair cushions, etc. But now it presented a doleful appearance of weather-beaten features and limbs, and where a horse-hair covering had existed, now only canvas was visible. A mirror of the dull and heavy school rested on the mantel-piece, along with sundry portraits, no doubt of a family importance, executed in an art of stern profile blackness, which art, we believe, is extinct, and happily so. The floor had no covering, neither had the walls, which showed the wood in its crude state, or rather in the serrated condition in which it had left the sawyer's pit. A few children's stockings and shoes scattered about; a woman's dress, mantle, and bonnet lying on the table, with some calico in the process of conversion to an article of apparel; a piano of ancient make which, we must say though, belonged to Mrs. Rainsfield, and was placed there for the use of the children while under the tuition of Mrs. Billing, completed the furniture; and, with other scraps, such as towels, dusters, and odds and ends, all heaped together, as we have said before, in interminable confusion, the reader has an idea of what William was surveying.

We have already confessed our lack of the author's talent of succinct expression; and what we might have been able, had we been possessed of such a gift, to have detailed in a few pithy words, and what was noticed by William in a few minutes, it has taken us so long to describe. We must therefore beg to assure the reader that Mr. Billing was not so rude as to leave his guest waiting alone so long as we have kept him, but shortly re-entered the sitting-room and informed William that Mrs. Billing was that moment engaged with the children, but if he would excuse her for a few minutes she would be obliged to him.

Now it happened that William had heard certain sounds that indicated arrangements of no possible connexion with children's attiring and ornature; such as the washing of an adult's hands, the operation of adjusting that corporeal appertinence, which is made to enclose the forms and symmetrize the figures of Eve's fair daughters of the present age, the rustling of silk, and other prognostics of a personal embellishment. But still conveniently deaf as a visitor should be to such sounds he begged that Mrs. Billing would not allow herself to be drawn from her attention to the children on his account, for he would be sorry to inconvenience her by his call.

Mr. Billing thanked him for his politeness and consideration, and entreated him not to mention anything about inconvenience; and at that very moment Mrs. Billing sailed into the room, or at least as much of it as she could get into; and, while shaking hands with William, said: "I am delighted beyond measure, Mr. Ferguson, at your kindness in calling upon us. It is so affable of you, and I can only express my regrets that you should have happened to have chosen a day when you see we are all topsy-turvey. You must know, Mr. Ferguson, I always like to keep my house clean and in order, although Mr. Billing will persist in grumbling at what he calls unnecessary cleanliness; but still I am glad you have honoured us with a visit." "Go away, Johnny, and Bobby! Mary, don't be rude!"

These latter expressions were addressed to various olive branches of the Billing tree, who showed their heads at the door whence had emerged the parent stem, and to which, we presume, the juveniles had come to satisfy their curiosity as to the nature of the intrusion on their domestic privacy. But they did not seem disposed to obey the injunctions of their maternal parent; who therefore rose and put them inside the room and shut the door, while they continued to amuse themselves by keeping up a perpetual kicking.

Possibly the reader may desire to know something about Mrs. Billing, her genealogy, etc. If so, we will endeavour to prevent disappointment by giving a brief sketch of her. She was a lady, "a perfect lady," as her husband used to say, and we should imagine, nearly twenty years the junior of her lord. She was not absolutely plain; she might once have been good-looking. In fact, Mr. Billing used to assure his friends, when first he married her she was a beauty, one, he affirmed, of the Grecian mould. We will not flatter her, however, by saying she was handsome; though we will state that her looks were capable of great improvement by the study of a little judicious display and effective costuming. But these virtues or follies, as our readers may consider them, obtained very little regard from Mrs. Billing; notwithstanding that on sundry occasions, such as the present, she made an effort to appear as in former years.

She had taken some little pains, we say little pains because of the insignificance of the result, to present a genteel appearance to our friend William, and had made a hasty toilet. If it had effected any improvement in her appearance it argued badly for her presentableness before the operations of ablution and ornature had taken place. Her hair, in keeping with her eyes, was black, and parted not scrupulously in the centre; a stray lock on the forehead segregated from its rightful position was brought immediately across the line of demarcation and incorporated in the opposition. However, its lamination was lost in the plastering the whole had undergone in the toilet operations; and, as Mrs. Billing was not a vain woman, such a mishap was not deemed worthy of notice, or at least the trouble of rectification. Her features, if not good, were certainly far from bad. There was a vivacity and expression in them, but there was also an unctuousness that was a necessary concomitant on her perpetual bustle, which incessantly displayed itself in her pale face. She wore a black silk dress, that made a rustling like dry leaves in winter, and was modelled in a fashion so as to confine both the wrists and the throat of the wearer; at which points it terminated without the muslin adjuncts we usually look for. As for the dress itself nothing need be said, except that it might have, and had been a good one, but was then rather seedy. It gave us, however, the idea that it was worn in much the same manner, and for much the same purpose, as the closely buttoned up frock-coat of the "shabby genteel gentleman," who is unable to make any display of spotless linen. But we will make no ambiguous allusion to a lady's under garments, though we cannot shut our eyes to noticeable facts. Neither could William, for he perceived that her boots, though they had once been of a fashionable make, were not what they had been, for their glory had long since departed. He also noticed that her hands and facial contour were of a different shade to her neck and throat. It might have been an optical illusion, the effect of a deceptive light, the contrast of complexion, or the exposure to sun; but he thought that where the tints blended the contrast was too perceptible to be natural, and therefore concluded that the phenomenon arose from the dirt not being thoroughly removed, or the omission of an ablutionary application to the dark tinted part.

William also noticed,--but we must again crave the indulgence of our fair readers, whose pardon we implore for adverting to such a subject,--when Mrs. Billing turned herself to eject and inject the juvenile representatives of the Billing family; he saw her back! yes, reader! her back! Now no lady should turn her back on a gentleman any more than a gentleman should perform so derogatory an act upon a lady, either literally or figuratively. More especially if that lady be not a good figure, or if her dress does not fit immaculately. We do not insinuate that Mrs. Billing had not a good figure, she was _once_ graceful; but it was to be presumed, that considering the ample proofs she had given of a proclivity to gestation, the symmetry of that figure had to some extent been impaired. Be that as it may, the dress of Mrs. Billing did not meet behind by some three or four hooks; and the consequence was that a sight was revealed to the bashful gaze of our young friend which caused him to blush; while the remembrance of the cleanly characteristics, enunciated by her lord as pertaining to her, made him wonder. For there! immediately underneath the habilimentary cuticle, William saw garments of so suspicious a colour as to make it questionable whether they had attained their peculiar hues by the process of dyeing, or by their contact with this world's filth.

But there is one thing that we must explain before we leave Mrs. Billing. We have already told the reader that cleanliness was Mrs. Billing's peculiar and predominant idiosyncrasy, and we must reconcile this statement to our portraiture of unbecoming slovenliness. It is easily said in a few words. Mrs. Billing was one of those women who are always in a fuss about their domestic affairs; who are for ever fidgeting about the dirt in the house; and always attempting to remove, or remedy it, though in the attempt they only succeed in adding to the filth. Making "confusion worse confounded;" leaving things worse than they were before; adding to the discomfort of their husbands, their children, and themselves; whom they keep in a perpetual state of slovenliness and untidiness. Such was Mrs. Billing's failing; and if her husband was blessed with perspicuity sufficient to notice it, for his own peace of mind, he abstained from any dictation that might have embroiled him in family dissensions; and he was right: for on the whole she was undeniably a good wife to him notwithstanding her little peculiarities.

Mrs. Billing had managed to squeeze herself into a seat, as her husband had previously done, without necessitating any extraordinarily unpleasant contiguity to her visitor; though any extension of prerogative on the part of the upper or nether limbs of either of the party would have been detrimental to the visages, or shins, of the others. So they were all perforce compelled to adhere to a strict propriety of deportment.

The lady was particularly charmed, or at least she continued to say so, at what she designated the condescension of Mr. Ferguson in visiting her humble abode.

"I am truly delighted to see you," she said again, for at least the twentieth time; "and only regret I can offer you no inducement to prolong your visit. I suppose there would be no use in my asking you to stay and take pot-luck with us in the friendly way, Mr. Ferguson? Not that it would be any change of fare to you, for we are necessarily humble people now; and, if we even desired it, we could not have anything out of the common. It is not here like 'at home,' where you can, even with the most moderate means, procure anything nice. In this horrid country neither love nor money can buy tasty things. One has to be contented with what we can get, and we live so incessantly upon mutton that I wonder we're not all ashamed to look a sheep in the face. But, as I was saying, can we persuade you to stop and take pot-luck with us, Mr. Ferguson?"

"I really thank you, Mrs. Billing," said William; "but my friends will expect me to make my appearance at the house shortly. I have brought my sister over to see Miss Eleanor, and have just dropped in to see you as I passed."

"Yes! it is very kind of you," said Mrs. Billing; "and of course Mrs. Rainsfield will be expecting you. However, if at any time you shall be disposed to honour us with a visit, let us have the pleasure of your company sufficiently long to enable us fully to enjoy it. Devote some evening to us, and we will endeavour to amuse you. We would be most happy to see your sister too, if she would condescend to honour our roof by her presence; she is a gentle, amiable young lady. I need not ask if she is well as that I am sure of?"

"Thank you," said William, "she is quite well, and I have no doubt will be happy to join me in paying you a visit; especially when I tell her of your kind enquiries."

"Will you try a little spirits, Mr. Ferguson?" asked the master of the mansion. "I am sorry I have no wine to offer you, and neither any choice of spirits; but I shall be delighted if you will join me in a glass of rum."

"I am obliged to you; not any," replied William.

The conversation continued for some short time longer, chiefly though on the part of the Billing couple; who took upon themselves the initiatory to enlighten their visitor upon all their family affairs and departed greatness. William soon began to feel a distaste for this kind of conversation and society, and had made one or two attempts to break the spell. But as the pair kept up an alternate and incessant dialogue he could not find an opportunity of taking his leave; and neither did he effect his retreat until he had risen from his seat, stood hat in hand for nearly ten minutes, and repeated more than once that he feared his sister would be wondering what had become of him.

He at last succeeded in escaping, and cordially shaking hands with the quondum commercial man and his lady, he took his departure and walked back to the house. Mr. Billing returned to, and was speedily lost in the abstruse calculation from which his attention had been diverted by William's visit; while Mrs. Billing retired to the precincts of her sanctum, to divest herself of her outer covering for one of more humble pretensions, in which she had been habited at the time of her surprisal.