It was not long after Miss Wewitz’s visit to the linen-room that a loud ring at the gate-bell, making it sound half across the Common, announced the arrival of Miss Chutney’s guardian.
Miss Wewitz received the gentleman with great joy, for she was growing quite alarmed at the peculiar and unaccountable conduct of the young lady, and wished to consult her “friend” as to the best means of dealing with her.
The schoolmistress was not long in detailing to her visitor all the occurrences of the last two days, and concluded by informing him that the young lady had partaken of no nourishment but a small piece of dry bread during the entire forty-eight hours; and that she would really take it as a personal obligation if he would exert his influence in bringing her to a right sense of her conduct.
The guardian, who was a shipping agent in a “large way,” and had a habit of talking of his ships on every possible opportunity, in such a manner, that, christened as they mostly were after private and public individuals, it was often difficult to understand whether he was alluding to a thing of flesh and blood, or merely wood and iron.
“You astonish me, my dear madam,” he said, in as pompous a tone as possible—for the gentleman was particularly anxious at all times to produce an impression upon strangers—“Miss Chutney’s conduct reminds me forcibly of our ‘Maria of North Shields.’”
“Indeed!” cried Miss Wewitz, judging from the name that the gentleman alluded to some young lady-friend of his resident in that quarter of the kingdom, and smiling blandly at the bare idea of the chance of adding the said Maria to the list of her parlour-boarders.
“Yes,” returned the shipping agent; “our ‘Maria’ was as pretty a little thing as ever you set eyes on; but, you see, she was so queer about the head, we couldn’t get her to steer the right course any how.”
“Bless me!” exclaimed the astonished Miss Wewitz, “you don’t say so.”
“Yes,” continued the shipping agent, leaning back in the easy chair, and swinging his seals round and round; “but that’s a very common fault. Why, there was our ‘Eliza,’ that’s being overhauled now, she was so cranky, that I’m sure she wanted ballast enough for six; but then, you see, she was so long in the back, that she was always a-missing her stays.”
“Dear me!—poor thing! she found them a great support to her, I dare say,” observed the ingenuous Miss Wewitz, fancying that the said Eliza was none other than a daughter of her visitor, and a young lady suffering under weakness of the spine.