The servant led the way across the station to where a fine carriage with two horses was drawn up; he opened the door, and Miss Carlaw got in, followed by Comethup, who began to realize that he had indeed entered upon a life of luxury. The noise and roar of the streets through which they drove surprised and startled him, after the sleepy quiet of the old town he had left. His aunt was eager with anticipations of all they were to do, and of all the changes she contemplated making in her own mode of life, for the boy’s comfort.
“Oh, we’ll do big things with you, Comethup; you shall be the best-known boy in London. By the Lord! I’ve never had a chance like this before. I’ll dress you like a prince, and let them see that I’ve got some one young and handsome—for you are handsome, you dog, there’s not a doubt of that—some one young and handsome about me, who loves me. Oh, I’ll be good to you, Comethup, if you keep to your part of the bargain, for I’m precious hungry for somebody’s love, I can assure you. I’ve waited a devilish long time for it.”
The carriage drew up at the door of a large house in a square, with a huge garden, protected by an iron railing, in the center of the square. As they alighted, Comethup felt that it must be a very grand neighbourhood indeed, for other carriages were stopping at other doors, and elegant ladies were getting in and out of them. Almost before his aunt had alighted from her carriage the wide door at the top of the steps was opened, and Comethup had a glimpse of a hall beautifully furnished and hung with old-fashioned armour, such as he had heard the captain describe in giving accounts of historic battles—a hall large enough, the boy thought, to be a room itself, and not a mere passageway to other rooms, as it proved to be when they had passed through it. There seemed to be servants everywhere, both male and female, opening doors, and coming in noiselessly with tea, and bringing letters and other things which had arrived for Miss Carlaw during her absence.
It appeared to have been the work of a confidential servant—an elderly, staid woman, who was apparently the housekeeper—to open and read these letters aloud to her mistress; but when she was about to do this now, Miss Carlaw stopped her and turned to Comethup. “Can you read?” she asked, sharply.
“A little,” replied Comethup. “The captain taught me.”
“Give me one of those letters,” said Miss Carlaw, holding out her hand to the housekeeper. A letter was handed to her, over the back of which she swiftly passed her hand; she appeared to know in an instant from whom it came, by the crest on the back, and even muttered the name. This she handed to Comethup. “Open it,” she said, “and read it.”
Comethup opened it tremblingly, and floundered about for a moment among the strange, cramped handwriting; then blushingly confessed that he had not been used to reading writing.
“No, of course not; very foolish of me to think you would be able to,” replied his aunt, taking the letter from him. “For the present we shall have to go on in the old way, until you’ve learned a little more, Comethup; and then we’ll dispense with everybody else for our private matters.”
The letters were opened by the housekeeper, and read aloud, Miss Charlotte Carlaw making audible comments upon them as the reading proceeded. Then a minute account was given of all that had occurred in her absence—the names of callers, and what they had said and what messages they had left. When all was finished, and Miss Carlaw had drunk her tea and had seen that Comethup was also provided with refreshment, she gave orders that all the servants in the place were to be brought to her.
“Every Jack and Jill of ’em,” she exclaimed, emphatically; “I’ve something to say to them.”