“Do you wish any expedient to be proposed?” asked the chairman, in a sort of aside.
“Yes, I have one. I spent yesterday in collecting information.”
“Will Captain Duncombe move it?” suggested Raymond.
“Oh no! he is not here. No, it is no use to instruct anybody; I will do it myself, if you please.”
And before the astonished eyes of the meeting, the gold-pheasant hopped upon the platform, and with as much ease as if she had been Queen Bess dragooning her parliament, she gave what even the astounded gentlemen felt to be a sensible practical exposition of ways and means.
She had obtained the address of a warehouse ready to give such rough work as the women could be expected to do; but as they were unaccustomed to work at home, and were at present much crowded from the loss of so many houses, and could besides be little depended on for working well enough without superintendence, her plan was to hire a room, collect the women, and divide the superintendence between the ladies; who should give out the work, see that it was properly done, keep order, and the like. She finished off in full order, by moving a resolution to this effect.
There was a pause, and a little consultation among the gentlemen, ending by Raymond’s absolutely telling Mr. Fuller that it was a very sensible practical arrangement, and that it must be seconded; which the Vicar accordingly did, and it was carried without opposition, as in truth nothing so good had been thought of; and the next thing was to name a committee of ladies, a treasurer and auditor of accounts. There would be no work on Saturdays, so if the ladies would each undertake half a day once a fortnight, the superintendence need not be a burthen.
Mrs. Duncombe and Miss Slater undertook the first start and preliminary arrangements, then each would take her half day in rotation. Lady Tyrrell and her sister undertook two, Cecil two more, and others were found to fill up the vacant space. The chairman moved a vote of thanks to the lady for her suggestion, which she acknowledged by a gracious bow, not without triumph; and the meeting broke up.
Some one asked after Captain Duncombe as she descended into private life. “There’s a wonderful filly that absorbs all his attention. All Wil’sbro’ might burn as long as Dark Hag thrives! When do I expect him? I don’t know; it depends on Dark Hag,” she said in a tone of superior good-natured irony, then gathered up the radiant mantle and tripped off along the central street of the little old-fashioned country town, with gravelled not paved side-walks.
“Isn’t she very superior?” said Cecil, when her husband had put her on horseback.