While the reading of books had ever been more pain than pleasure to her, she learned to read music with surprising quickness, and even to accompany herself on the spinet and harpsichord. Mademoiselle Mazet was equally pleased with her, for Bess was quite incapable of airs, and asked no waiting on, which would have been more of a novelty than a pleasure to her. Then, as soon as she found herself at home, her native and ineradicable sense of order and cleanliness asserted itself. From keeping her own room exquisitely neat, she came to take charge of the dark old house. In a little while the cobwebs of a century had been ruthlessly swept out, the dust of ages had been sent along with the cobwebs, the piles of music were put in decent order, the instruments primly ranged against the wall, unused windows were opened, and light, cleanliness, and comfort reigned in Monsieur Mazet’s house. From keeping the house in order, she insensibly came to looking after the household affairs, when she discovered that the Mazets were regularly and systematically cheated by their servants and tradespeople. Bess sent for two or three of the worst of them, the candle merchant, the wood merchant, and the butcher, and descending majestically to the kitchen, harangued them forcibly in such French as she could command, eked out with very vigorous English. And being naturally of a hot temper, she indulged it, and was secretly pleased to find that her dramatic outburst had actually frightened the cheats extremely. Monsieur Mazet, listening anxiously at the head of the stairs, had more than one cause of congratulation at the panic with which she inspired the dishonest tradespeople, and the tragic tone with which she threatened them. After having dismissed them, trembling, Bess came upstairs laughing. Monsieur Mazet ran forward, and clasped her hands with delight.
“And was it truly acting, my child?” he cried. “If it was, you have a great dramatic genius, and you will be able to act as well as sing!”
“I don’t know that it was all acting,” diplomatically replied Bess, “but I think I scared them pretty well, and I want to look in the dictionary and find some more hard names that I can call them next time. I don’t know half enough.”
When she had been in Paris about a month, one morning Roger Egremont dismounted from his horse Merrylegs at the Mazets’ door, and Bess, seeing him from the window, ran and let him in.
Roger was glad to see her so well and happy. Bess examined him critically, but saw no change in him. Roger had learned the lesson of self-possession well, and no one could tell from his countenance when things were going ill with him. He showed the same old kindness in his manner to her, brought her many messages from Madame Michot, and wished to know every particular of Bess’s welfare.
She told him all, and when Roger laughed at some of the things she told him, she smiled a sly and pretty smile at him. But growing serious, she said,—
“Papa Mazet says I must not be Bess Lukens any longer,—that when people begin to hear of me as a singer, they will laugh at so homely a name,—but I must be Elisa Luccheni. The trouble is, that I can write ‘Bess Lukens’ so easy, and to have to learn to write that other name, ’twill be monstrous troublesome.”
“Monsieur Mazet is right,” said Roger, laughing, “And I will write Elisa Luccheni for you, so you may learn to write it yourself.” And taking his tablets from his pocket he wrote her new name most beautifully and gave it to her, which Bess thankfully accepted.
And then she had to tell him all the occurrences, great and small, which had befallen her in Papa Mazet’s house, including her victory over the tradespeople, and the full regeneration of the premises, under the influence of soap and water.
“I’ve washed everything in the house, Master Roger, except Papa and Mamma Mazet—for that’s what the good souls wish me to call them—and I have a great mind to put them in a great pail of water and to scrub them both well. And as for the servants and tradespeople, ’twould do your heart good to see how afraid of me they are.” Here Bess’s red lips parted in a broad smile. “You know my voice is pretty loud and full anyway, and it’s more so since I have got to doing trillos and roulades and such,—and I give ’em the benefit of it. And then I’ve learned a couple of dozen hard words out of the dictionary, and when I bring ’em out—Lord! how it makes their teeth rattle in their heads with fear!”