The history of the two women—Mrs. Bristow and Bessie Dalton—is in many respects a romantic one. We have not taken note of them for a long time, but doubtless those who have perused these pages will remember that a number of Bank of England notes were found secreted in a looking-glass—behind the plate and back-board of that useful piece of furniture.
The notes represented in the aggregate many thousands of pounds.
When Mrs. Bristow and her faithful companion and friend, Bessie Dalton, arrived in London they changed their names, as they had changed their condition in life.
Mrs. Bristow, although the wife of a working engineer, was tolerably well connected, certainly better than most women in the same walk of life.
She took an elegant suite of apartments in Brook-street, Grosvenor-square, and having ample means at her disposal, she lived in good style, and in the due course of time contrived to get introduced into society, as it is termed—that is, she became acquainted with people who moved in the upper circles.
Bessie passed as her younger sister, and as time went on they both improved, became more polished in their manners, dropped provincialisms as much as possible, and really turned out very creditable specimens of unostentatious gentility, and were pretty generally liked, for their kindliness of heart and unobtrusive manners and demeanour.
They were introduced to Mr. Metcalf, a rich city merchant, and frequently paid visits at his house at Greenwich.
He was seized with a sudden fit of illness—a virulent fever.
Bessie Dalton volunteered her services as nurse, and her attention was so unremitting, her gentleness was made so manifest on many occasions, that it laid the foundation of a deep and endless love which found its way into the heart of Mr. Metcalf.
The result of all this was an offer of marriage, and Bessie Dalton became the wife of, as she told Charles Peace, an honourable gentleman.