May I commend what I conceive to have been your conduct on this occasion. The fact that you referred Mr. Meriwether to me, without reference to your own inclinations, confirms me in my hope that you have profited from the unhappy lesson of your sister, and have forsworn any tendency to that independence of spirit which prevails so much in modern days, even in young women. I am greatly gratified you have recollected your obligation to defer to those who have some right to guide and advise you. In his letter, I might add, Mr. Meriwether paid the highest tribute to your modesty and propriety.
I have informed Mr. Meriwether by return of post that once I have satisfied myself as to the veracity of his representations of his background, conduct, and fortune, I could perceive no grounds upon which to oppose his paying his addresses to you. He has assured me he takes no offense at the natural solicitude of a fond parent, and in fact he invited me to freely put any questions to him, or to his friends and associates.
The match may not be, in all of its particulars, what I and your mother had projected for you, when you were in your cradle. Still, despite what we owe to ourselves in upholding the dignity of the name of Bertram, I have never been one to deny the just claims of merit, endeavour, application, and worldly success.
However unexceptional this match may appear to be from a pecuniary point of view, dear Julia, I need hardly add that your happiness and credit in life is of the greatest importance to your parents. If you sincerely believe you can be happy and honourably married to Mr. Meriwether, despite the differences in your age and the still greater differences in your rank in society, I shall have no objection to make.
Experience as well as conviction leads me to assert that your own happiness will be increased by entering the married state, and if the strength of my affections alone could answer my wishes, you would be very happy indeed. I need hardly add, that to behold you honourably and properly settled would be greatly to the satisfaction of,
Your devoted father,
T. Bertram
* * * * * * *
It was late on a Friday afternoon, and Fanny and Eliza Bellingham were in the counting office, going over the accounts for the store and the academy.
“How extraordinary—a scrap of fabric, rendered into an evening gown for a doll, gives us a better return, yard for yard, than a full-size gown for our real flesh-and-blood customers!” Eliza Bellingham gestured at her calculations. “Mr. Blodgett told me he will order more dolls for us to dress, and is giving over more space in the shop window for them! If only I’d done this in Liverpool! I should have made sweet little bonnets for heads that are made of china, not heads which are stuffed with—-”
“Sawdust?” suggested Fanny.
“I was not speaking of dolls’ heads, and you know that, Fanny!”
“Eliza, why do not you and I draw up a memorandum for presentation to the committee, explaining the profit to be made from the sale of dolls’ clothes? Indeed, could we not emphasize to our customers the fact that the clothes are made by labouring children, for charitable purposes?”
“That’s a wonderful idea, Fanny! And, why should we sell them only here in Camden Town? Perhaps we could find other shops willing to sell them in London?”
“Yes, of course! Heavens, Madame Orly went into London with Mrs. Butters this morning—I wish I had thought of sending some samples along with her.”
“Mrs. Blodgett!!”
Fanny and Eliza heard Cecilia Butters’ raised voice, and after exchanging perplexed glances, they both hurried out to the classroom to behold an indignant Cecilia Butters bearing down on Mrs. Blodgett.
“Mrs. Blodgett!”
Four and twenty little heads looked up, four and twenty pairs of hands froze in mid-stitch.
“Mrs. Blodgett, I have learned there is a most unsuitable person in your employ here.”
“Whatever can you mean, ma’am?” Mrs. Blodgett was both alarmed and affronted.
“I mean, a notorious, scandalous woman has been allowed to work here, to associate with my children, to spread her polluting influence. I should have thought, Mrs. Blodgett, that solicitude for your own reputation and the safety of your pupils would ensure you would hire only persons of the most unimpeachable character! Did not the charter for this school specifically state that only gentlewomen of pious and decent character be engaged?”
“Whomever can you be referring to, ma’am?”
Fanny cast an anxious look at Eliza, who covered her face with her hands and retreated back into the counting office. Fanny stepped forward, prepared to defend her friend, even if it meant encountering the full force of Cecilia Butters’ anger.
“Do you recall a scandal about a Mr. Crawford a few years ago?” Cecilia Butters continued, her words echoing about the room. “Do you recall there was a woman who passed herself off as his wife, lived with him at his estate, and then, when he left her, forced her cousin to fight a duel over her? The newspapers called her ‘Miss P.’ Do you know, who is ‘Miss P’?”
Cecilia Butters turned and pointed to Fanny, who froze in horror and shame.
“It is she! It is none other than Miss Price! Miss Price!”
Four and twenty heads swivelled and looked at Miss Price with expressions ranging from confusion, to surprise to wonder.
“Can this be true! Good gracious! How could my sister-in-law have permitted this! No, she could not have known of this disgraceful affair, or she would never—have you, Miss Price, deceived Mrs. Butters as to your character?”
“I have not, Madam,” said Fanny. “And there was no duel—I never—”
“Can you deny that you called yourself ‘Mrs. Crawford’?” interposed Cecilia Butters. “And that you and he
