Penelope

by William Pitt Scargill

Then did she feel her truly desolate and destitute condition. She had been as a beauteous flower hanging on a slender film over the current of a river, that film had broken, and the flower had dropped upon the stream at the mercy of its waves. With the opening day there had been accustomed to enter into her mind thoughts of devotion and gratitude. These thoughts came, but not as usual. It seemed to her as though she had not been sufficiently thankful to her Creator for his blessings, and that they had been withheld. She would have prayed but she dared not, she would have wept but she could not. Her bodily fatigue was gone, but the weariness of mind was felt more strongly. She endeavoured to compose her scattered thoughts, but that was a task of no small difficulty. One of the greatest concerns of all, however, was, that by this new arrangement she was placed out of all communication with her father; for the late Dr Greendale was the only person in England with whom Mr Primrose had any correspondence. It was even doubtful whether Mrs Greendale herself knew his address. These circumstances, therefore, though they might not break off his communication with England, would naturally produce a long and serious interruption to it. For her own part, it was out of her power to convey to her father any knowledge of her situation, so as to be able by his intervention to avoid that publicity which she so much dreaded.

Not long had her mind been thus painfully occupied, before she received a visit in her apartment from her friend Lady Smatterton: and as she was now totally dependent on her ladyship, she was desirous of conciliating her regards as much as possible; nor indeed was that a very difficult task. A little sense of humility and feeling of obligation and submission to her ladyship’s superior wisdom, would always ensure the Countess of Smatterton’s good will. When, therefore, Penelope with great humility, and a look of gratification, expressed her thanks to her ladyship for her very kind attentions, the Countess being pleased to see that her condescension had made its impression, was in very high spirits, and became more gracious and condescending still.

“My dear Miss Primrose, you look quite charmingly this morning. I am delighted to find that you have not experienced any inconvenience from the fatigue of your journey. I think you will be in most excellent voice this evening. Now, I expect a few select friends to-night; and some of them are amateurs, and I assure you I have promised them a treat, in which I know they will not be disappointed. I have all your favourite songs and duets, so you may make your selection in the course of the morning; and I have a new harp which I wish you to try. I think you will like it.”

With a very great effort to suppress a very deep sigh, Penelope replied: “I shall be most happy to use my best exertions to gratify your ladyship, but I fear that before so many persons who are total strangers to me, and without any previous scientific instruction, I may disappoint the expectations which your ladyship’s kindness has excited.”

“Oh dear no, my dear, I beg you will not entertain any such notion; we shall have a very small party indeed, and of the amateurs, I can assure you that there is not one that is half so well acquainted with the science of music as you are. It will be time enough for you to take lessons previously to your performance in public, and that not because you need musical instruction, but there are certain peculiarities which it is necessary that public performers should know.”

Miss Primrose, knowing how much the Countess disliked objections to any of her own arrangements, submitted as resignedly as she could; but with a feeling that neither her bodily nor mental strength were equal to the task which awaited her. The visit of the Countess concluded with requesting Penelope to take her breakfast with the family, unless she preferred being quite alone. But Penelope found little pleasure in solitude, and therefore very readily accepted the invitation to take breakfast at the family table, where she very soon after made her appearance.

At this table there sat down the Earl and Countess of Smatterton and Lord Spoonbill. This was the usual party, and Penelope was received by them all three with so much kindness, and such genuine politeness of manner, that she felt herself no stranger. And they all asked very kindly after Mrs Greendale, and they all hoped that Miss Primrose had not suffered from the fatigue of the journey; and when Lord Spoonbill asked how Miss Primrose had travelled, and when he heard that she had travelled by the stage-coach in company with Mr Kipperson, he was astonished and grieved; and he thought it a great pity that arrangements had not been previously made for accommodating the young lady in one of their carriages. The Earl also expressed himself much concerned at the same neglect. Alas, thought Penelope, what a multitude of words on trifles. How she had travelled was now nothing to her, but it was something to her when she thought for what purpose that journey had been made.

Lord Spoonbill, after a proper interval, and with a very becoming seriousness of manner, gently adverted to the death of Dr Greendale, and perceiving that it was a subject on which Penelope loved to dwell, notwithstanding the melancholy and painful associations connected with it, he proceeded to extol the virtues of her deceased relative, and to express his own great obligations to the good man for the many valuable pieces of advice he had received from the late rector of Smatterton; he thought that it was a great pity that some of the doctor’s sermons should not be given to the public, for they would undoubtedly be productive of good. Penelope was very well pleased, and indeed quite interested by the manner in which Lord Spoonbill condescended to speak of her departed relative; and she began to think that his lordship was not quite so great a coxcomb as she had once taken him to be. Gradually her mind recovered a little of its natural vivacity, and her looks resumed part of their wonted cheerfulness. She was comparatively easy and composed. Then did the young nobleman ingeniously, and without forced transition, turn the conversation to other topics, and he spoke much of the metropolis and its many magnificences; but with peculiar delicacy avoided saying anything of public concerts. Penelope felt grateful for such kind and considerate attentions, and began to think that in the manners of the higher ranks there was something peculiarly fascinating which could render such a man as Lord Spoonbill not only tolerable but really agreeable. The Earl of Smatterton was also very courteous and kind to his guest, though he could not well avoid majestic manifestations of his kindness. He condescended to hope that Miss Primrose would find herself happy in the metropolis, and dwelt with much complacency on the opportunity she would enjoy of introduction to society; and he spake largely of the patronizing propensities of the Countess; he also mentioned other titled ladies, to whose saloons the young dependent might be admitted; and concluded a long harangue by saying, that on proper occasions she would be a welcome guest at his own house.

Now it happened that on the breakfast table there was lying a newspaper, which was occasionally taken up and laid down by one or other of the noble family of Smatterton. Penelope was not a politician, but seeing the words “Ship News” printed in distinct and distantly visible characters, she felt some curiosity to read that same news, for she thought it possible that there might be in that article something deeply interesting to herself. It appeared however to her that it would be making herself rather too much at home to take up the paper; she endeavoured therefore as it lay to catch a glimpse of the intelligence. Lord Spoonbill observed the direction of her eyes, and very politely offered her the paper, which she thankfully accepted. Just as she was in the act of directing her eyes towards that part of the paper which contained the intelligence most important to her, something addressed to her by Lord Smatterton called her away from the page almost in the very moment that the name of Primrose caught her eye. And as Penelope laid down the paper on being spoken to by his lordship, Lord Spoonbill took it up again, and by some means or other it was no longer visible. What she had seen was enough to excite strong feelings and to raise her hopes. She had a recollection of the word “arrived,” and the name of “Primrose” among the list of passengers; at least so it seemed to her from the hasty glance which she had taken of the paper. This of course was quite sufficient to fill her mind with the most pleasing visions for the rest of the day: and hearing that Mr Kipperson might very probably be one of the party in the evening, and knowing that this gentleman was deeply versed in matters of business, it occurred to her that he might bring her some pleasing intelligence from the city touching the arrival of vessels from the East Indies, and the names of passengers. It is true, there might be one of the name of Primrose and still no relation of hers. But she might at least enjoy the hope as long as possible; and it would cheer her spirit amidst the darkness of reality.

The evening came, and with it the few select friends of the Countess of Smatterton, who were to compose her party. There were not many persons in town at this time; but Penelope had never before seen anything bearing the slightest resemblance to a fashionable party, for she had never been at the Easter ball at the Mansion house, or at Bartholomew fair; to her therefore this very small select party looked like a very tumultuous and promiscuous multitude. Every face was strange to her, and as the apartments were splendidly lighted up, the drawing and music rooms opening into each other, and displaying by means of mirrors a deceiving appearance as to their real dimensions. Thus magnified and multiplied, they looked to her unpractised eye as awfully public as a great theatre. Part of the company was assembled before Penelope made her appearance. When therefore she entered the middle drawing-room, which was the apartment most usually occupied by the family, she was surprised at the sight of lighted apartments on both sides of this, and these apartments to her eye filled with elegant company. She was still more surprised at entering the room to find that no one took the slightest notice of her in the way of courtesy, but that three or four young gentlemen who were standing together near a fire-place absolutely and immovably stared at her: and then, as soon as she caught sight of the Countess of Smatterton, she observed that her ladyship was engaged in conversation with a great, broad, coarse, overdressed female, who was talking very loud and looking very majestically. This stranger appeared like a very vulgar woman to our unfashionable heroine, but was in reality no less a personage than the Duchess of Steeple Bumstead. Her Grace put her glass to her eye, and contemplated by its means the face and figure of Penelope. The poor girl felt very uncomfortable and ill at ease being thus gazed at so unmercifully. As soon as her Grace had satisfied her curiosity she dropt her glass, and wheeled round and sailed away in another direction. The Countess of Smatterton then approached the confused and embarrassed dependent, and after giving her a good-humoured rebuke for making her appearance in such very sable attire, told her that the Duchess of Steeple Bumstead was very desirous of hearing her sing.