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MRS. NELLY

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Away shrank the ladies fearing a penetration of their disguise, and a stinging rebuke by the harridan who advanced in a threatening attitude with shaken fist and out-thrust jaw.

But the cause of the dame's attitude was not either of the disguised beauties, but the busy little slattern who sat by the neat portico of the Play house.

"Mrs. Nelly! Mrs. Nelly!" cried Orange Moll. "Is it the first time I have had to warn you, eh? A-sitting in the front! And you the worst slut of the pack, Mrs. Nelly."

The little creature thus addressed did not answer, but rose good-humouredly enough and whistled the mongrel out of the way.

"Your stand is at the back, my girl," added the beldame, a little mollified by this obedience. "There is face enough allowed and smiled on, without you a-take more on it—get you up and out o' the way 'fore the gallants or spruce citizens see you."

The orange girl smiled and looked at the two ladies behind Orange Moll.

"Do you want Court beauties to cry 'Chaney Oranges' in the pit?" she asked slyly; her London accent became her prettily and her voice was warm and rich.

"She has discovered us," whispered Mrs. Needham angrily.

"Faith and it was not difficult," replied Mistress Bagot, who now saw the absurdity of their disguise.

At this juncture the attention of Orange Moll was mercifully diverted by the arrival of a Sedan chair escorted by two town sparks, and as she rushed up to clamorously thrust her fruit on these and call to order the other wenches who were making too free with the crowd, the sham orange vendors escaped her notice.

But they had occasion to draw back haughtily, for she who had been called Mrs. Nelly sidled up to them and peered impudently into their faces.

"Who have ye come here to meet, my dears?" she asked maliciously. "Who is to buy your China ware? Sixpence a piece and a kiss included?"

"We came to see the show," faltered Mrs.

Needham.

"A grand show," smiled Mrs. Nelly, "inside and out the Play house—but trade grows scant and Moll won't see you a ogling of her customers, my dears, unless ye content yourselves with the cut-purses and ballad-singers yonder." And she waved her hand, with a good-natured air, towards the gathering group of rascals beneath the sign of "The Peacock."

"Cut-purses and ballad-singers!" echoed Mrs. Needham in nervous terror. "We had no thought of such company—"

"And cut-throats too, very likely," grinned Mrs. Nelly, "so be off with you, my darlings—and leave the Lane to those who must get their living in the Lane, there's good moppets, my dears."

This was delivered in a manner so kindly and simple that the ladies could scarcely feel any offence, though never had they before been addressed by a creature so beggarly and rude clad.

Mrs. Needham even felt her spirits rise in an atmosphere so kindly.

"It were poor spirited to leave a jest unfinished," she declared with something of her court simper. "Say nothing further, wench, of our disguise, and you shall have the price of our wares—"

"Think you that if I keep mum, that will mean you go not noticed?" answered Mrs. Nelly; then, seeing that several chairs were coming up to the theatre door, she caught up her fruit and tripped off to join her companions, who offered the oranges with beguiling clamour to each new-comer.

The runaway maids were now thoroughly emboldened, and excited besides by the press of gay people, the lights (for the flambeaux outside the theatre were being lit), the rise and fall of laughing voices, and the lively strains of one of Mr. Purcell's jigs that came from the open doors of the theatre.

"Come," said they, each encouraging the other, "let us prove if we are so easily discovered."

And they stepped from the portico into the street, boldly enough, displaying a well-turned wrist each, as they offered the oranges in delicate white hands. Nor could the vanity of Mrs. Needham be content with this, but she must toss back her hood and show her frail fairness, her beauties of rose, pearl, and gold in the ruddy torch light.

Admiration this display received, but not that the wilful Miss desired; some of the rough idlers greeted her with jeering courtesies that brought the warm colour quick enough to outvie her rouge.

She found her way crossed by an ill-favoured swaggerer, who audaciously took hold of her wrist and thrust his great nose into the orange she held, declaring it mouldy, and desiring the pick of her basket.

"Let me pass!" cried the lady, deeply outraged and frightened. "I have no oranges to sell to you!"

"Have you not?" grinned her tormentor. "What of your kisses? Are they any fresher than your fruit?"

And so the wretch, with a leer, was clutching hold of the maid of honour, while a vile companion of his made little ado to snatch off the hood of Mrs. Bagot.

The crowd gave little attention to orange girls so nice, save that the baser sort jeered and flouted, and the door-keeper of the Play house roughly bade Orange Moll keep order among her sluts.

Nor was that dame slow to response, but, waving lusty arms, screamed to her girls to clear the way for the gentle folk.

Hustled thus back into the obscurity of the outer fringe of the crowd and almost pushed into the arms of their uncouth persecutors, the silly maids could do no better than let their baskets and oranges fall and use, as best they might, their feeble hands in defence of their charms and trinkets.

For Mrs. Needham had been stupid enough to leave a crochet of pearls on her bosom and studs in her ears, and she was like, during this mishandling, to have lost both.

But the young wench who had been turned from the door of the Play house as not fit to adorn such a situation now boldly cast her ragged person before the harassed gentlewomen; their persecutors appeared to be well known to Mrs. Nelly, for she cried out on them by name and with a withering accent of scorn, even snapping her tiny fingers in the great jowl of the most offensive.

The men replied with equal animosity, but their attention was for a second distracted from their victims, who shrank as far as they could into the press behind Mrs. Nelly.

The wordy warfare continued for a second with the hot vehemence of the streets, then when the rascals would have slung the orange girl out of the way, she deftly sprang back a pace and began pelting them with the scattered fruit from the fallen baskets of the maids of honour.

She was both swift and adroit, and the well-aimed missiles kept both the fellows at bay; as the fruit broke on their faces in a rapid succession of blows they even fell back though cursing dolefully, and the crowd were quick to take sides against them and enjoy their discomfiture.

Mrs. Nelly appeared to enjoy the battle which was but one of many she had had to wage in the haunts of Drury Lane, though certainly the first undertaken in defence of two ladies of quality.

Someone shouted:

"Clear the way! Look who comes!" Mrs. Nelly looked over her shoulder; Mrs. Needham screamed:

"O, if we are seen in this rig!"

"Run!" cried the orange wench, "run!"

She flung herself before them to mask their going; there was an uneasier movement in the crowd which swayed back, hushed, and in part crept away.

Mrs. Nelly found herself alone on the space before the theatre facing a party of gentlemen who had sauntered up.


Nell Gwyn - A Decoration

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