PART I.
AN EVENING AT A GIRLS' CLUB.
I first made Belinda Ann's acquaintance at a social evening at a club in Bethnal Green to which I had been invited by the lady who had instituted it.
In my innocence and ignorance (for at that time I was unacquainted with the manners and customs of the East End) I took my little roll of music in my hand, thinking I should be expected to contribute to the evening's entertainment; but on arrival I found that this was not necessary, as the girls were quite capable of amusing themselves and us too.
On certain occasions a fixed programme was arranged and carried out by friends from the West End, but this happened to be an "off night," when the members did pretty much as they pleased, my hostess leaving them to their own devices entirely, and not interfering unless their spirits threatened to get too boisterous.
As she truly said: "You cannot expect the same manners and etiquette here that you find among Lady Clara Vere de Vere and her friends at their aristocratic club near Grosvenor Square, but my girls have a great sense of honour and chivalry, and a word from me is generally sufficient."
The club-room was at the back of a large, old-fashioned house which at one time, long, long ago, stood in its own extensive grounds in the midst of a peaceful, rural neighbourhood.
Now it was hemmed in on all sides by streets and houses teeming with life, and the only relic of its former grandeur left was a tiny piece of ground in front.
Still, a certain air of aristocratic calm hung about it, and after my recent long drive through the hot, crowded streets, I breathed a sigh of relief when the front door closed behind me and I found myself in the spacious entrance-hall.
I followed the neat maid-servant (herself an East Ender born and bred) along this out into a little paved yard, which we crossed, and up a flight of break-neck stairs into the club-room.
It was a long, narrow apartment, with a low platform at one end, and the wooden walls were hung with gay-coloured bunting interspersed with various flags, a few pictures from Christmas numbers, and some framed texts.
Odd strips of carpet, matting and rugs, covered the floor and on these stood small tables laden with magazines, books and games, while little chairs stood here and there not in stiff rows but in conversational attitudes, so to speak.
A fixed bench ran all round the walls, a piano (rather the worse for wear inside and out) stood in one corner of the platform, and a few plants in pots disguised by crinkled paper completed the furniture.
Judging from the noise that greeted me when I entered, the lungs of Belinda Ann and her friends were in fairly good condition, and I felt distinctly alarmed as I advanced, for they all turned and stared at me with one consent, making frank and audible remarks on my personal appearance and dress.
The room was crowded with girls, tall and short, dark and fair, fat and thin, very few of whom were playing games or reading, but all of whom were chattering as fast as their tongues would let them.
I was relieved when the lady who had invited me stepped forward to shake hands and at once piloted me up the room (for she knew I wanted to learn all I could about my East End sisters) whispering as she went, "I'm going to introduce Belinda Ann to you. You'll find out all you want to know from her," and next minute I found myself deposited next a girl who surveyed me with a mixture of good-humoured contempt and watchful suspicion.
The first was due to my small size, the second to a lurking conviction that I wanted to patronise, or as she afterwards expressed it, "Come the toff over her."
As soon as she found out I was far from wishing to do this, she became more friendly, and assured my hostess that she'd take care of the "lydy."
Belinda Ann was a head and shoulders taller than myself and broad in proportion, although she was only eighteen. She possessed a quantity of black hair which came down to her eyebrows in front in a thick, straight fringe and was beautifully bright and clean. Brown eyes looked fearlessly at you from under the fringe, and her whole manner was that of a girl who, ever since she could walk, had had to fight for herself and protect herself, and had done it too.
You couldn't imagine anyone taking a liberty with Belinda Ann, although she was hail-fellow-well-met with everyone.
She might be a little rough in her manners, and not always too refined in her speech, but Belinda Ann had a heart of gold, was as true as steel to her friends, and thoroughly enjoyed life, taking the sweet with the bitter, spending money royally when she had it, and cheerfully going without when times were bad.
This evening she was attired in a peacock-blue cashmere and plush dress, which had seen its best days, almost covered by a large apron, not so clean as it had once been, and surmounted by a limp black straw hat adorned with some dejected-looking black feathers without a vestige of curl about them, and various dirty white flowers which flopped aimlessly over the brim.
I noticed that her boots were strong and good, and that near her lay a thick, handsome shawl, and in time I learnt that these two items of dress rank next in importance to the famous feathers, and that every true East Ender insists on having them of the best quality, and pays a good price for them.
Belinda Ann, meanwhile, having exhausted her interest in me, was turning to exchange "chaff" with her other neighbour, when, with an inward gasp, I plunged boldly into conversation.
"Do you come here every evening?" I asked.
"Depends!" was the abrupt answer, given in an off-hand, defiant sort of way which characterised her manner with strangers. "P'raps I do an' p'raps I don't!" and her look so plainly added, "What's it to you?" that I refrained from pursuing the subject.
"You all seem very lively," I hazarded next, with a look round.
"So you'd be to get a chance to do somethin' beside work!" was the fierce reply.
This made a capital opening to the question I was longing to lead up to, namely, "What do you do all day?"
"Oh, I'm engyged in chemistry," was the proud reply, accompanied by a visible swelling of her whole person.
"Chemistry!" I ejaculated, rather awe-struck at finding her so clever.
"'Ere, don't you believe 'er!" struck in a fair, florid girl next her on the other side. "She's bluffin' yer! She only sticks the lybels on the bottles at the cord-liver oil factry over the wy."
Whereupon Belinda Ann, with perfect good-humour, made a grab at the other's hat and a friendly little tussle ensued, accompanied by shrieks of laughter and a brisk interchange of chaff.
As soon as this interlude was over and they had once more settled down, I took up the thread of conversation again.
"And are all these girls engaged in sticking——I mean, in the chemistry?" I inquired.
"No," she retorted; "some's jam an' some's pickles, but the jams are a low lot!" and the air of inexpressible scorn with which she said it would not have disgraced a West End beauty alluding to another, "who is not in our set, my dear."
I began to think my hostess had made a mistake in assigning me to Belinda Ann, as the latter seemed more disposed to snub me than anything else, and I was rather relieved when the piano struck up and the girls began to dance.
There were no men present, but this did not at all interfere with their happiness, and I sat lost in amazement at their extraordinary agility and wonderful steps.
Belinda Ann (or as I heard her friends call her, Blinderann) was in no wise behind the others, and sprang hither and thither with the best.
My hostess sank into a seat beside me and murmured apologetically—
"I let them do this to work off a little of their exuberant spirits, for they would never sit still a whole evening, and would fight probably if they had no other outlet. Some nights, if there is any specially good concert or entertainment, I allow each girl to bring one male relative or friend, but oddly enough they don't often avail themselves of the permission. On an informal evening like this, when there are only girls, I don't think a little physical exercise does them any harm, and it tires them out so that they will listen to anything I have to say to them afterwards. If I drew the rein too tight, they would all disperse to the four winds and I should never get hold of them again."
I agreed, and presently seeing a girl leaning up against the wall, I plucked up courage and asked her if she would care to have me as a partner.
She seemed slightly surprised, but consented graciously, and we took a few turns together.
I flattered myself I had got on fairly well, and felt so elated at my success that by-and-by I sought Belinda Ann, who was fanning herself vigorously with her hat, and requested the pleasure.
ENVY.
Her answer rather stunned me.
"No, thank'ee. I've been watchin' yer an' your style won't do fer me!"
Before I had time to reply she was off again, taking part in some very pretty figures in which narrow coloured ribbons were plaited and unplaited as the girls holding the ends moved hither and thither.
As soon as everyone was thoroughly tired and disposed to sit quiet for half an hour or so, a girl (a stranger from the West End like myself) was asked by the hostess to play something, and accordingly, thinking as I should have done, that they preferred lively tunes, sat down and began to rattle off some "catchy" popular airs.
She was unceremoniously stopped by Belinda Ann—
"'Ere, we don't want that rot!"
"Oh," mildly replied the unfortunate pianist, not quite knowing what to say; "I thought you liked variety?"
"No, we don't," retorted the other, misunderstanding her and thinking she meant the music hall close by; "the V'riety costs tuppence an' we can't 'ford it."
"Well, what would you like?" was the inquiry.
"Give us 'We are rout on the ocean syling,' or 'God be with you till we meet agyne,'" and this request being complied with, these favourite hymns were shouted out at the top of their voices, Belinda Ann's in particular being like a clarion.
After this a diversion was created by one of the "pickles" volunteering a recitation which she gave with a good deal of dramatic power; then another girl sang a little song, and Belinda Ann followed with a second, and so the evening wore away to its close; but I felt dissatisfied, for I seemed no nearer attaining my object than before.
Taking the opportunity, I forcibly detained Belinda Ann as she was drifting by, and diffidently observed—
"You've told me what you work at, but how do you amuse yourself?"
"'Ow? There ain't much difficulty 'bout that!" she returned scornfully. "There's this sort o' thing, an' bank 'ollerdys, an' weddins, an' funerals, an' launchin' ships, an'——-"
"I wish you'd let me go with you to some of these!" I eagerly interrupted.
She looked dubiously at me for a minute, thinking I was joking, but seeing I was in earnest, remarked casually—
"Well, I don't mind ef I do, but it's a bit rough sometimes fer the likes o' you."
"Oh, I sha'n't mind," I joyfully replied. "When can I begin?"
"A friend o' mine's goin' to be married the dy after ter-morrer," she said graciously. "I could get yer an invite, if yer liked."
"Do!" was my ecstatic response. "Where shall we meet?"
"'Ere," she returned. "Yer can't go wanderin' about these streets by yerself, an' it wouldn't do fer your grand friends to see me a-knockin' at your door!"
I was trying in vain to assure her that she was quite wrong, when she suddenly rammed her hat viciously down on her head, slung her shawl round her like a woollen whirlwind, and with the brief remark, "G'night," was gone. I also soon afterwards took my leave, having first told my hostess about the proposed expedition.
She looked a little anxious, but her face cleared when she heard that Belinda Ann was coming with me.
"That's all right," she observed, with a sigh of relief. "She's to be trusted to see that you come to no harm; but don't leave her for a minute, and don't wear jewellery or carry much money."
I promised, and went home full of anticipation at the idea of the new world about to open before my delighted eyes.
(To be continued.)
[QUEENS AS NEEDLEWOMEN.]
By EMMA BREWER.