providing for Emma’s coming-out, I daresay I should never see anything of either of ’em, nor my grandchildren neither, so maybe its all for the best. It suited Sukey very well when I married Ned Floore, because who’s to know I’m her ma, unless I tell ’em, which in the general way I don’t? What’s more, Floore was a very warm man, with never a chick nor child of his own, and every penny he had he left to me, and no strings tied to ’em! So whenever I feel low I tell Sukey I’ve taken a fancy to pay her a visit in her fine London house. It’s as good as a play to see how many excuses she’ll make up to put me off, never dreaming that I do it only to tease her! I never had any taste for grand company myself, but Sukey has, and you can say that’s my doing, for having sent her to a smart school. So she needn’t be afraid! I can’t help laughing at her, but I’ve got no notion of embarrassing her: no, nor Emma either!”
“I am very sure, ma’am, that Emma at least you could not embarrass. She speaks of you with so much affection!”
“Bless her heart!” said Mrs Floore. “All the same, my lady, it wouldn’t do her a bit of good if I was to go around telling everyone I’m her grandma, so I beg you won’t mention it. I’ve been letting my tongue run away with me, like I shouldn’t, but you’re one of those that can be trusted,
“Thank you! If you wish it, I will not mention the relationship to anyone but Lady Spenborough, and her you may also trust.”
“Poor young thing!” remarked Mrs Floore. “Such a sweet face as she has! It quite goes to my heart to see her in her weeds, and she no more than a baby. There! The General is taking his leave of her, and she’ll be looking to see what’s become of you. You’d best go, my lady, for I daresay she wouldn’t think it a proper thing for you to be sitting chatting to me.”
“Not at all,” said Serena calmly, making a sign to Fanny. “If you will allow me, I should like to make you known to her, ma’am.” She smiled at Fanny, as she came up, and said: “Fanny, I wish to introduce Mrs Floore to you, who is Emily’s grandmama.”
Fanny, however astonished she might be, was far too well-bred to betray any other emotions than civil complaisance. She bowed, and held out her hand, which, after heaving herself on to her feet, Mrs Floore shook with great heartiness, saying that she was honoured, and only wished Sukey could see her.
“Which, however, it’s just as well she can’t. And if ever you should find yourselves in Beaufort Square, that’s where I live, and a warm welcome you’d have from me—and no offence taken if you don’t choose to come!”
“Thank you, we should like very much to visit you,” replied Serena.
“So kind!” murmured Fanny.
Mrs Floore beamed all over her face. “Then I’ll tell you what you should do, my dears: just you send your footman round to tell me you mean to pay me a call, and if it should happen that there’s company with me I’ll send ’em packing, because for one thing it wouldn’t be seemly for you to be going to parties, and for another my friends ain’t just in your style, any more than I am myself, the only difference between us being that I shan’t holler at you across the street, or go prating about you all over Bath, which one or two I know
With these reassuring words, she shook hands again, blessed Serena’s lovely face, and waddled away.
“Serena!” breathed Fanny. “What an
“Yes, but quite delightful, I promise you!”
“But, Serena, she is dreadfully vulgar! You cannot really mean to visit her!”
“Certainly I mean to, and I shall think very poorly of you if you don’t accompany me!”
“But, dearest, do you—do you think your papa would have permitted it?” Fanny ventured to say.
That made Serena laugh. “My dear Fanny, you know very well Papa never interfered with me,
“Oh, no, no, I never meant—only I can’t help feeling that everyone would say I ought not to let you become acquainted with vulgar persons, and in particular your Aunt Theresa, though how she thinks I can prevent you from doing exactly as you choose when
7
The call was paid, though without the suggested prelude; and the welcome accorded to the ladies was so good-natured and unaffected that Fanny was brought to acknowledge that however vulgar Mrs Floore might be she had a great deal of drollery, and was certainly no toad-eater. She declined a civil invitation to return the visit, saying, with paralysing candour, that it was one thing for their ladyships to visit in Beaufort Square whenever they felt so inclined, and quite another for them to be entertaining her in Laura Place, and very likely making all their acquaintance wonder what kind of company they had got into.
Since this was very much what Fanny had been thinking she instantly turned scarlet, and stammered an inarticulate protest, which made her hostess tell her very kindly that there was no need for her to flush up, because facts were facts, and no getting round them, and in any event she was grown so stout that it was as much as she cared to do to walk to the Pump Room and back. “And as for calling a chair, I give you my word I never do so without I expect the poor fellows carrying me to drop down dead between the shafts, which would be a very disconcerting thing to happen,” she added.
Serena laughed. “Very well, ma’am, it shall be as you wish! But pray believe we should be happy to see you in Laura Place!”
This won her a glance of decided approval from their fellow-guest, a gentlemanly-looking young man of some thirty years of age, who had been sitting with Mrs Floore when they were announced. It was to be inferred, since he had not been sent packing, that Mrs Floore considered him worthy to meet her distinguished visitors. She introduced him as Ned Goring, the son of her late husband’s business partner, who had ridden over from Bristol to pay his respects to her; and it soon transpired that the redoubtable old lady had inherited, besides two fortunes, considerable interest in her father’s soap factory, and her husband’s shipyard. Young Mr Goring, a junior partner in the latter, evidently regarded her with respect and affection; and when, in the course of conversation with him, Serena said something about her liking Mrs Floore so much, he replied in his blunt way: “Everyone must who knows her, I think. I never knew anyone with a kinder heart, or a sounder understanding.”
She warmed to him, knowing the world well enough to realize how many men in his position, having achieved through education a greater gentility than was aspired to by their fathers, would have found it necessary to have excused a friendship with one so frankly vulgar as Mrs Floore. That lady being fully occupied with Fanny, Serena took pains to draw Mr Goring out. She very soon discovered that he had been educated at Rugby and at Cambridge, and liked him the better when he replied, in answer to an inquiry: “Yes, I
“Very expensively!”
He laughed. “Ah, I was used to tell him he would end up a Bond Street beau! Then, of course, he would make some opprobrious mention of tar, that being the only commodity to be used in my trade which he knew of, and it was a chance if either of us emerged from the argument without a black eye!”
At this point, Fanny rose to take leave, and the party broke up, Serena shaking hands with her new acquaintance, and expressing the friendly hope that they might meet again. As she walked back to Laura Place beside Fanny, she observed: “I liked that young man, did not you? There was something particularly pleasing about his manners, which I thought very easy and frank. He has an air of honest manliness, too, which, in these days of fribbles and counter-coxcombs, I own I find refreshing!”
A new terror reared itself in Fanny’s head; the weekly letter to Mama was painstakingly inscribed, and contained no reference to Beaufort Square.
However, nothing more was heard of Mr Goring. Serena’s friendship with Mrs Floore prospered, but in a mild way that resolved itself into an occasional call, and frequent meetings in the Pump Room, when sometimes conversation was exchanged, and sometimes no more than cordial greetings. The next occurrence to enliven the routine of Bath life was an unexpected visit from Rotherham. Fanny and Serena, coming in one sunny afternoon in April, after walking for an hour in the Sydney Gardens, were greeted with the intelligence that his lordship had been
