CHAPTER X

Miss Sharp Begins to Make Friends

And now, being received as a member of the amiable family whose

portraits we have sketched in the foregoing pages, it became naturally

Rebecca's duty to make herself, as she said, agreeable to her

benefactors, and to gain their confidence to the utmost of her power.

Who can but admire this quality of gratitude in an unprotected orphan;

and, if there entered some degree of selfishness into her calculations,

who can say but that her prudence was perfectly justifiable? "I am

alone in the world," said the friendless girl. "I have nothing to look

for but what my own labour can bring me; and while that little

pink-faced chit Amelia, with not half my sense, has ten thousand pounds

and an establishment secure, poor Rebecca (and my figure is far better

than hers) has only herself and her own wits to trust to. Well, let us

see if my wits cannot provide me with an honourable maintenance, and if

some day or the other I cannot show Miss Amelia my real superiority

over her. Not that I dislike poor Amelia: who can dislike such a

harmless, good-natured creature?--only it will be a fine day when I can

take my place above her in the world, as why, indeed, should I not?"

Thus it was that our little romantic friend formed visions of the

future for herself--nor must we be scandalised that, in all her castles

in the air, a husband was the principal inhabitant. Of what else have

young ladies to think, but husbands? Of what else do their dear mammas

think? "I must be my own mamma," said Rebecca; not without a tingling

consciousness of defeat, as she thought over her little misadventure

with Jos Sedley.

So she wisely determined to render her position with the Queen's

Crawley family comfortable and secure, and to this end resolved to make

friends of every one around her who could at all interfere with her

comfort.

As my Lady Crawley was not one of these personages, and a woman,

moreover, so indolent and void of character as not to be of the least

consequence in her own house, Rebecca soon found that it was not at all

necessary to cultivate her good will--indeed, impossible to gain it.

She used to talk to her pupils about their "poor mamma"; and, though

she treated that lady with every demonstration of cool respect, it was

to the rest of the family that she wisely directed the chief part of

her attentions.

With the young people, whose applause she thoroughly gained, her method

was pretty simple. She did not pester their young brains with too much

learning, but, on the contrary, let them have their own way in regard

to educating themselves; for what instruction is more effectual than

self-instruction? The eldest was rather fond of books, and as there was

in the old library at Queen's Crawley a considerable provision of works

of light literature of the last century, both in the French and English

languages (they had been purchased by the Secretary of the Tape and

Sealing Wax Office at the period of his disgrace), and as nobody ever

troubled the bookshelves but herself, Rebecca was enabled agreeably,

and, as it were, in playing, to impart a great deal of instruction to

Miss Rose Crawley.

She and Miss Rose thus read together many delightful French and English

works, among which may be mentioned those of the learned Dr. Smollett,

of the ingenious Mr. Henry Fielding, of the graceful and fantastic

Monsieur Crebillon the younger, whom our immortal poet Gray so much

admired, and of the universal Monsieur de Voltaire. Once, when Mr.

Crawley asked what the young people were reading, the governess replied

"Smollett." "Oh, Smollett," said Mr. Crawley, quite satisfied. "His

history is more dull, but by no means so dangerous as that of Mr. Hume.

It is history you are reading?" "Yes," said Miss Rose; without,

however, adding that it was the history of Mr. Humphrey Clinker. On

another occasion he was rather scandalised at finding his sister with a

book of French plays; but as the governess remarked that it was for the

purpose of acquiring the French idiom in conversation, he was fain to

be content. Mr. Crawley, as a diplomatist, was exceedingly proud of

his own skill in speaking the French language (for he was of the world

still), and not a little pleased with the compliments which the

governess continually paid him upon his proficiency.

Miss Violet's tastes were, on the contrary, more rude and boisterous

than those of her sister. She knew the sequestered spots where the

hens laid their eggs. She could climb a tree to rob the nests of the

feathered songsters of their speckled spoils. And her pleasure was to

ride the young colts, and to scour the plains like Camilla. She was the

favourite of her father and of the stablemen. She was the darling, and

withal the terror of the cook; for she discovered the haunts of the

jam-pots, and would attack them when they were within her reach. She

and her sister were engaged in constant battles. Any of which

peccadilloes, if Miss Sharp discovered, she did not tell them to Lady

Crawley; who would have told them to the father, or worse, to Mr.

Crawley; but promised not to tell if Miss Violet would be a good girl

and love her governess.

With Mr. Crawley Miss Sharp was respectful and obedient. She used to

consult him on passages of French which she could not understand,

though her mother was a Frenchwoman, and which he would construe to her

satisfaction: and, besides giving her his aid in profane literature, he

was kind enough to select for her books of a more serious tendency, and

address to her much of his conversation. She admired, beyond measure,

his speech at the Quashimaboo-Aid Society; took an interest in his

pamphlet on malt: was often affected, even to tears, by his discourses

of an evening, and would say--"Oh, thank you, sir," with a sigh, and a

look up to heaven, that made him occasionally condescend to shake hands

with her. "Blood is everything, after all," would that aristocratic

religionist say. "How Miss Sharp is awakened by my words, when not one

of the people here is touched. I am too fine for them--too delicate. I

must familiarise my style--but she understands it. Her mother was a

Montmorency."

Indeed it was from this famous family, as it appears, that Miss Sharp,

by the mother's side, was descended. Of course she did not say that her

mother had been on the stage; it would have shocked Mr. Crawley's

religious scruples. How many noble emigres had this horrid revolution

plunged in poverty! She had several stories about her ancestors ere

she had been many months in the house; some of which Mr. Crawley

happened to find in D'Hozier's dictionary, which was in the library,

and which strengthened his belief in their truth, and in the

high-breeding of Rebecca. Are we to suppose from this curiosity and

prying into dictionaries, could our heroine suppose that Mr. Crawley

was interested in her?--no, only in a friendly way. Have we not stated

that he was attached to Lady Jane Sheepshanks?

He took Rebecca to task once or twice about the propriety of playing at

backgammon with Sir Pitt, saying that it was a godless amusement, and

that she would be much better engaged in reading "Thrump's Legacy," or

"The Blind Washerwoman of Moorfields," or any work of a more serious

nature; but Miss Sharp said her dear mother used often to play the same

game with the old Count de Trictrac and the venerable Abbe du Cornet,

and so found an excuse for this and other worldly amusements.

But it was not only by playing at backgammon with the Baronet, that the

little governess rendered herself agreeable to her employer. She found

many different ways of being useful to him. She read over, with

indefatigable patience, all those law papers, with which, before she

came to Queen's Crawley, he had promised to entertain her. She

volunteered to copy many of his letters, and adroitly altered the

spelling of them so as to suit the usages of the present day. She

became interested in everything appertaining to the estate, to the

farm, the park, the garden, and the stables; and so delightful a

companion was she, that the Baronet would seldom take his

after-breakfast walk without her (and the children of course), when she

would give her advice as to the trees which were to be lopped in the

shrubberies, the garden-beds to be dug, the crops which were to be cut,

the horses which were to go to cart or plough. Before she had been a

year at Queen's Crawley she had quite won the Baronet's confidence; and

the conversation at the dinner-table, which before used to be held

between him and Mr. Horrocks the butler, was now almost exclusively

between Sir Pitt and Miss Sharp. She was almost mistress of the house

when Mr. Crawley was absent, but conducted herself in her new and

exalted situation with such circumspection and modesty as not to offend

the authorities of the kitchen and stable, among whom her behaviour was

always exceedingly modest and affable. She was quite a different

person from the haughty, shy, dissatisfied little girl whom we have

known previously, and this change of temper proved great prudence, a

sincere desire of amendment, or at any rate great moral courage on her

part. Whether it was the heart which dictated this new system of

complaisance and humility adopted by our Rebecca, is to be proved by

her after-history. A system of hypocrisy, which lasts through whole

years, is one seldom satisfactorily practised by a person of

one-and-twenty; however, our readers will recollect, that, though young

in years, our heroine was old in life and experience, and we have

written to no purpose if they have not discovered that she was a very

clever woman.

The elder and younger son of the house of Crawley were, like the

gentleman and lady in the weather-box, never at home together--they

hated each other cordially: indeed, Rawdon Crawley, the dragoon, had a

great contempt for the establishment altogether, and seldom came

thither except when his aunt paid her annual visit.

The great good quality of this old lady has been mentioned. She

possessed seventy thousand pounds, and had almost adopted Rawdon. She

disliked her elder nephew exceedingly, and despised him as a milksop.

In return he did not hesitate to state that her soul was irretrievably

lost, and was of opinion that his brother's chance in the next world

was not a whit better. "She is a godless woman of the world," would

Mr. Crawley say; "she lives with atheists and Frenchmen. My mind

shudders when I think of her awful, awful situation, and that, near as

she is to the grave, she should be so given up to vanity,

licentiousness, profaneness, and folly." In fact, the old lady declined

altogether to hear his hour's lecture of an evening; and when she came

to Queen's Crawley alone, he was obliged to pretermit his usual

devotional exercises.

"Shut up your sarmons, Pitt, when Miss Crawley comes down," said his

father; "she has written to say that she won't stand the preachifying."

"O, sir! consider the servants."

"The servants be hanged," said Sir Pitt; and his son thought even worse

would happen were they deprived of the benefit of his instruction.

"Why, hang it, Pitt!" said the father to his remonstrance. "You

wouldn't be such a flat as to let three thousand a year go out of the

family?"

"What is money compared to our souls, sir?" continued Mr. Crawley.

"You mean that the old lady won't leave the money to you?"--and who

knows but it was Mr. Crawley's meaning?

Old Miss Crawley was certainly one of the reprobate. She had a snug

little house in Park Lane, and, as she ate and drank a great deal too

much during the season in London, she went to Harrowgate or Cheltenham

for the summer. She was the most hospitable and jovial of old vestals,

and had been a beauty in her day, she said. (All old women were

beauties once, we very well know.) She was a bel esprit, and a dreadful

Radical for those days. She had been in France (where St. Just, they

say, inspired her with an unfortunate passion), and loved, ever after,

French novels, French cookery, and French wines. She read Voltaire,

and had Rousseau by heart; talked very lightly about divorce, and most

energetically of the rights of women. She had pictures of Mr. Fox in

every room in the house: when that statesman was in opposition, I am

not sure that she had not flung a main with him; and when he came into

office, she took great credit for bringing over to him Sir Pitt and his

colleague for Queen's Crawley, although Sir Pitt would have come over

himself, without any trouble on the honest lady's part. It is needless

to say that Sir Pitt was brought to change his views after the death of

the great Whig statesman.

This worthy old lady took a fancy to Rawdon Crawley when a boy, sent

him to Cambridge (in opposition to his brother at Oxford), and, when

the young man was requested by the authorities of the first-named

University to quit after a residence of two years, she bought him his

commission in the Life Guards Green.

A perfect and celebrated "blood," or dandy about town, was this young

officer. Boxing, rat-hunting, the fives court, and four-in-hand

driving were then the fashion of our British aristocracy; and he was an

adept in all these noble sciences. And though he belonged to the

household troops, who, as it was their duty to rally round the Prince

Regent, had not shown their valour in foreign service yet, Rawdon

Crawley had already (apropos of play, of which he was immoderately

fond) fought three bloody duels, in which he gave ample proofs of his

contempt for death.

"And for what follows after death," would Mr. Crawley observe, throwing

his gooseberry-coloured eyes up to the ceiling. He was always thinking

of his brother's soul, or of the souls of those who differed with him

in opinion: it is a sort of comfort which many of the serious give

themselves.

Silly, romantic Miss Crawley, far from being horrified at the courage

of her favourite, always used to pay his debts after his duels; and

would not listen to a word that was whispered against his morality.

"He will sow his wild oats," she would say, "and is worth far more than

that puling hypocrite of a brother of his."