The Nonesuch

Thus it was that Ancilla became an inmate of Staples, and, within a surprisingly short time, Mrs Underhill’s principal confidante.

Mrs Underhill had not previously confided in any of the governesses she had employed, for although she was a good-natured woman, she was quite understandably jealous of her dignity; and in her anxiety not to betray her origins she was prone to adopt towards her dependants a manner so stiff as to border on the top-lofty. She had been too much delighted to regain possession of her niece to raise any objection to the proviso that Miss Trent must accompany Tiffany; but she had deeply resented it, and had privately resolved to make it plain to Miss Trent that however many Generals might be members of her family any attempt on her part to come the lady of Quality over them at Staples would be severely snubbed. But as Miss Trent, far from doing any such thing, treated her with a civil deference not usually accorded to her by her children Mrs Underhill’s repressive haughtiness was abandoned within a week; and it was not long before she was telling her acquaintance that they wouldn’t believe what a comfort to her was the despised governess.

She said now, developing her theme: “She’s no more than a child, when all’s said, but with that face, and the things one hears about these smart town-beaux—Well, it does put me quite in a worry, my dear, and I don’t deny it!”

“But I don’t think it need, ma’am: indeed I don’t!” Miss Trent responded. “She may set her cap at him—in fact, I am tolerably certain that she will, just to show us all that she can bring any man to his knees!—and he might flirt with her, perhaps. But as for doing her any harm—no, no, there can’t be the least cause for you to be in a worry! Only consider, dear ma’am! She’s not a little serving-maid with no one at her back to protect her!”

“No,” agreed Mrs Underhill doubtfully. “That’s true enough, but—he might want to marry her, and a pretty piece of business that would be!”

“If he shows any such disposition,” said Miss Trent, laughter warming her eyes, “we must take care to remind her that he is not a member of the peerage!”

Mrs Underhill smiled, but she sighed too, saying that she wished to goodness Sir Waldo wasn’t coming to Broom Hall.

The wish was echoed, a few days later, by the Squire, who told Miss Trent that he heartily wished the Nonesuch at Jericho.

He had overtaken her on her way back to Staples from the village, and had very civilly dismounted from his hack to walk with her down the lane. He was thought by many to be rather an alarming man, for besides being a trifle testy he had an abrupt manner, and a disconcerting way of staring very hard at people from under his bristling eyebrows. Mrs Underhill always became flustered in his presence, but Miss Trent was not of a nervous disposition. She met his fierce gaze calmly, and answered the questions he shot at her without starting or stammering, thus winning his rare approval. He said she was a sensible woman: no nambypamby nonsense about her! He wished he could say the same of some others he might mention.

In this instance Miss Trent responded only with a slight smile, which caused him to say, in a threatening tone: “Don’t tell me you are in raptures over this Pink of the Ton!”

That drew a laugh from her. “No, how should I be? I am past the age of falling into raptures, sir!”

“Gammon! Chit of a girl!” he growled.

“Six-and-twenty!”

“Ay, so you may be: exactly what I thought! Wouldn’t signify if you was six-and-fifty, either. Look at my wife! Killed with delight because this chuckfarthing fellow is coming amongst us! Means to give a party in his honour, if you please! None of your pot-luck, mind! Oh, no! Shouldn’t wonder if she sends out her cards for a turtle-dinner, and has a waltzing-ball to round the thing off in style! Ay, you may laugh, miss! Don’t blame you! I shall laugh when the fellow sends his regrets—which he will do, if I know anything about these Town Tulips! I shall call on him, of course: can’t but do the civil, though I’d as lief give him the go-by.”

“Never mind, sir!” said Miss Trent encouragingly. “I daresay he will be gone again within a sennight, and he can’t break any hearts in such a short time, surely?”

“Break any hearts? Oh, you’re thinking of the girls! They don’t bother me! It’s our boys. Damme if I wouldn’t be better pleased if he was a Bond Street fribble, for that wouldn’t send ’em mad after him! The mischief is that he’s a Top-of-the-Trees Corinthian—and I’ve seen what harm they can do to silly young greenheads!”

The amusement left her face; she replied, after a moment:

“Yes, sir: so to have I. In my own family—But that was in London! I can’t think that here, in such a quiet neighbourhood, the silliest greenhead could find the means to run into a ruinous course.”