A bird of passage

by B. M. Croker

This was almost the first greeting that Helen received from her aunt Julia.

"And, dear me, how thin you have grown! I would have passed you in the street," was her eldest cousin's welcome.

Mrs. Platt and her two daughters, Clara and Caroline, had returned from church, and found their expected guest awaiting them alone, in the drawing-room! "Surely one of them might have stayed at home," she said to herself with a lump in her throat and a mist before her eyes. She had latterly been made so much of at Port Blair that her present reception was indeed a bitter contrast. It undoubtedly is rather chilling to arrive punctually from a long journey (say, half across the world), and to find that your visit is a matter of such little moment to your relations, that they have not even thought it necessary to remain indoors to await, much less to send to meet you! Helen felt strangely neglected and depressed, as she sat in the drawing-room in solitary state, still wearing her hat and jacket, and feeling more like a dependant, who had come to seek for a situation, than a near relation to the lady of the house. She had fully an hour in which to contemplate the situation, ere her aunt and cousins returned. They were three very tall women, and made an imposing appearance, as they filed in one after another in their best bonnets, with their prayer-books in their hands. They kissed her coolly, inquired when, and how, she had arrived, and then sat down and looked at her attentively.

Mrs. Platt was a thin, fair lady, with handsome profile, who had married well; and contrived to keep herself aloof from the general wreckage, when her maiden home was broken up; ambition was her distinctive characteristic; she had married well, and got up in the world, and now she hoped to see her daughters do the same.

To effect a lodgment in an upper strata of society, to mix with what she called the "best people," was her idea of unalloyed happiness.

In her grander, loftier style she was every bit as fond of a title as our dear friend Mrs. Creery.

Besides all this she was a respectable British matron, who paid her bills weekly, went twice to church on Sunday, never darkened the door of an omnibus, or condescended to use a postcard. Still, in her own genteel fashion, she was a capital manager, and generally made eighteen pence contrive to do duty for two shillings. She was honest, scheming, hard to every one, even to herself, making all those with whom she came into contact useful to her in some way; either they were utilized as social stepping-stones, or givers of entertainment, concert, and opera tickets, flowers, or better still, invitations to country houses; all her friends were expected to put their shoulder to her wheel in some respect—either that,—or she dropped their acquaintance under these circumstances.

It will be easily imagined, how very unwelcome to such a lady as Mrs. Platt was the unlooked-for return of this handsome, penniless niece!

The Misses Platt were tall young women, of from six, to eight and twenty years of age; they had unusually long necks, and carried their noses in the air; they were slight, and had light eyes and eyebrows, which gave them an indefinite, unfinished appearance; their hair was of a dull ashen shade, and they wore large fluffy fringes, were considered "plain" by people who did not like them, and "elegant-looking girls" by those who were their friends.

They were unemotional, critical, and selfish, firmly resolved to get the best of whatever was going; for the Miss Platts influenced their mother as they pleased, and had the greatest repugnance to having their cousin Helen thus billeted upon them.