CHAPTER XXX
A NEW WORLD
After a tedious journey, such as travellers had to undergo at the beginning of the century, whether they journeyed by coach, or by private carriage with post horses, Mrs. Jose and Winefred arrived at Bath. Mrs. Jose sought quarters for herself in a modest tavern, as she could not, dared not thrust herself on her grand relations. Moreover, before formally visiting their house, she had to change her gown, wash off the soil of travel, and give fresh curl to her hair.
When all these preparations were accomplished, she conducted Winefred to the Tomkin-Jones residence, a corner house of a square. The door opened into a narrow street, and the house had but a single window on each story that looked into the square. Nevertheless it was numbered, and esteemed itself as belonging to the square, and not to the street.
Before Winefred Mrs. Jose endeavoured to disguise her nervousness, but the attempt was futile, her excitation was perceptible at every point. A more than ordinary carnation mantled her healthy cheeks, her broad bosom heaved tumultuously, the movements of hand and head were spasmodic, and she showered advice as to comportment on the girl at her side, in the distraction of her mind repeating the same items a score of times.
As the door was approached, 'My dear,' whispered the farmer's wife, 'how do I look? Is my bonnet straight? Just see that my flounce is not curled up behind.'
On the doorstep Mrs. Jose stood in perturbation, unable to decide which was the correct proceeding, to knock or to ring, or to knock and ring, or even to ring and knock.
She was relieved of her embarrassment by the door opening without her having summoned the attendant, and by the maid appearing with letters in her hand for the post.