Читать книгу His Excellency's English Governess - Sydney C. Grier - Страница 4

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Miss Arbuthnot’s well-meant solicitude had the effect of making Cecil very nervous as the evening approached, and at last she actually entreated to be allowed to stay behind at the School and spend a quiet hour or two with the governesses, instead of going to Burlington House. But Miss Arbuthnot would not hear of this, and insisted on supervising her dressing personally, almost hustling her into the carriage at last.

“Nonsense, my dear, nonsense!” she said, vigorously, when they were fairly started. “You really must get rid of this foolish timidity, or you will be fit for nothing. I should have been seriously displeased if you had not come. Not only would it have been very rude, for it is a great favour to get a ticket, but there are several people I want you to see, a very old friend of mine for one. You have heard me speak of Elma Wargrave?”

“One of the pioneers?” asked Cecil.

In Miss Arbuthnot’s circle the early workers in the cause of female education were always designated by this respectful term.

“Yes, I see you know whom I mean. She and I were great friends when we were girls, and we had almost decided to start school-keeping together. She was most enthusiastic about it, and used to talk of the joy of devoting her whole life absolutely to the great work. But, unfortunately, she went to stay with some relations, and while with them she fell in with a young Scotch soldier, Sir Dugald Haigh. He was ridiculously poor, for his father had spent everything he could lay his hands on, and mortgaged the estates, so that Sir Dugald had scarcely more than his Artillery pay upon which to support an empty title and two people. But Elma married him and went out to India at once, and she has travelled about with him ever since in all sorts of outlandish places and horrible climates. I believe they have been very happy, and Sir Dugald is high in the Service, and has lately been made Consul-General and political agent at Baghdad, so I suppose they are not pinched any longer now. I don’t grudge them their happiness, my dear,” added Miss Arbuthnot, slowly, “but I have never been able to help regretting that Elma should have given up such a work for the sake of that very ordinary little man.”

“I am quite anxious to see them,” said Cecil. “Is Sir Dugald in England as well as Lady Haigh?”

“No, she is here alone. Some trouble broke out in the country just as they were starting, and Sir Dugald would not take his furlough. But here we are. Now, my dear child, forget yourself, and think of the people you will see.”

In spite of this excellent advice, Cecil still felt very nervous when they had laid aside their wraps and she was following Miss Arbuthnot’s sweeping satin train up the steps and into the crowded and brightly lighted rooms of the Academy. She did not know that she made a very pretty picture herself, with her fresh colouring and coils of bright hair set off by the black velvet dress, with its deep cuffs and standing collar of old lace, but Miss Arbuthnot perceived this and rejoiced to know it, not caring at all that her own plain, sensible face, adorned with the inevitable pince-nez, formed an excellent foil for Cecil’s girlish charms.

At first Cecil wanted to stand aside in some quiet corner, and watch the throng of noted people moving about, and learn all their names, but Miss Arbuthnot was a celebrity herself, and was, moreover, a woman of many acquaintances, who had all some kind or complimentary word for her young companion, when they recognised her or heard who she was. Still, it seemed to Cecil that her friend was watching anxiously for some one who had not yet appeared, and that she was manifestly relieved when a stout elderly lady, chiefly remarkable for the possession of a very prominent set of teeth, made her way through the crowd and joined them, greeting Miss Arbuthnot with effusion, and turning an expansive smile on Cecil.

“And this must be our young friend the lady graduate,” she said, looking at her kindly. “You must introduce us, Marian. I should like a talk with Miss Anstruther.”

“Cecil,” said Miss Arbuthnot, rather nervously, “I want to introduce you to Lady Haigh. We were speaking about her just now.”

Cecil was nothing loth to make acquaintance with the lady who had given up so much for the sake of her young Scotch soldier, and whose defection Miss Arbuthnot still mourned so bitterly, and she acquiesced at once when Lady Haigh suggested that they should retire to a quiet palm-shaded seat among the statuary, and have a chat, while Miss Arbuthnot was taken possession of by a distinguished cleric who had also been one of the pioneers of the education movement. Lady Haigh proved to be as kind as she looked, and showed herself very much interested in Cecil’s career. She asked as many questions as though she wanted to write her biography, and asked them, too, as if she were really interested in the answers, and not asking merely for politeness’ sake. Then she inquired all about the girl’s home circumstances, and learned all that Cecil would tell her about Mr and Mrs Anstruther and the rest of the family at St Barnabas’ Vicarage, and then she changed the subject of the conversation abruptly, and began to talk about her own doings in Baghdad. It seemed to be a fairly pleasant life on the whole, and Lady Haigh showed herself by no means desirous of underrating its attractions.

“You see, my dear, although it is dreadfully decayed since the days of the Khalifs and the ‘Arabian Nights,’ yet it is a very interesting place still. The society is really not bad, for there are nearly always travellers or officers of some sort passing through, and they all come to the Residency. Then the assistant political agent comes up sometimes from Basra, and of course there are clerks and secretaries, but they are mostly Armenians or East Indians. There is generally a gunboat in the river, too, and when it is lying off the Residency we are really quite gay. Then there are the officials at the other consulates, but socially speaking, and between you and me, they are rather a dull set. But there are a few of the Jews and Armenians in the place who are travelled and cultivated people, and quite friends of ours. Then, of course, it is very interesting when you get to know some of the Turkish ladies, and it is curious to study the mixture of nationalities in such a place as Baghdad. I often say that it reminds me of nothing so much as of Nuremberg or one of those German cities of the Middle Ages, at the time of their annual fairs.”

“I should love to see it,” said Cecil, drawing a long breath, “but I shall never be able to afford an Eastern trip until I am quite old. When the boys are all off my hands, I mean to save up, so that I can travel about wherever I like when I am an ancient spinster. It would scarcely do for me to go out now and set up a girls’ High School under the shadow of the Residency, would it?”

“Scarcely,” laughed Lady Haigh; “and I am afraid, too, you would hardly get pupils enough to make it pay, except possibly among the Greeks and Armenians. The Turkish ladies are kept very closely secluded, and although the Pasha is very anxious to do what he can to introduce European customs, yet he is not even backed up by his own harem.”

“It must feel like being in the ‘Arabian Nights’ to live in Baghdad,” said Cecil.

“Wouldn’t you like to find out something about it from one of the natives?” asked Lady Haigh, indicating a tall, olive-complexioned gentleman a short distance off, clad in irreproachable evening-dress and a fez cap. “That is Denarien Bey, an Armenian gentleman whose family has lived in Baghdad for many generations. He is in England at present on some business for the Pasha, and would be delighted to tell you anything you wanted to know.”

She beckoned with her fan, and Denarien Bey came forward with much alacrity. He bowed very politely when he was introduced, but Cecil fancied that she saw a start of dismay when he caught her name. She assured herself afterwards, however, that it must have been only fancy, for he was most attentive, answered all her questions about Baghdad, and escorted her to the buffet and catered for her as punctiliously as any Englishman. At last he took her back to Miss Arbuthnot, and the strange, delightful evening was over. Cecil passed the sleeping hours of that night in a wild whirl, in which visions of Baghdad in the golden prime of good Haroun-al-Raschid were peopled with the gorgeous throngs she had seen at Burlington House, and the President’s bow and hand-shake had some occult connection with the black eyes and hooked nose of Denarien Bey, and with the diamonds and Indian embroidery of the “Mother of Teeth,” as her Armenian friend had informed her that Lady Haigh was called in Baghdad. Towards morning she had a less extravagant dream, relating to the foundation of the High School she had laughingly proposed, and including the appearance of his Excellency Ahmed Khémi, Pasha-Governor of Baghdad, in full uniform and blazing with orders, to give away the prizes at the end of the first term. From this delightful vision Cecil was roused by a visit from Miss Arbuthnot, who came to her room to see whether she had overslept herself, and again displayed considerable interest in ascertaining what dress she intended to wear.

Breakfast over, and Miss Arbuthnot’s modest victoria at the door to convey Cecil to meet her fate, the principal grew nervous again. Cecil was far more collected than she was, and got together her testimonials and certificates with a calmness which was extremely creditable. At last they were ready to start, and, after what seemed a miraculously short drive, arrived at Daridge’s Hotel. Cecil’s courage was beginning to fail her now, and she felt her limbs trembling as she followed Miss Arbuthnot into the hall, and thence up the wide staircase, preceded by a peculiarly gorgeous domestic in livery. Presently this individual opened a door on one side of a lofty corridor, and ushered them into a room filled with gentlemen. Cecil caught Miss Arbuthnot’s arm.

“This can’t be the right room. He’s taking us into a committee meeting by mistake,” she whispered.

“No, my dear, it is all right,” said Miss Arbuthnot, and marched on undauntedly, Cecil following, and experiencing something of the feeling which must have actuated Childe Roland when he came to the Dark Tower.

The gentlemen rose as they entered, and one of them, in whom Cecil recognised her last night’s acquaintance, Denarien Bey, came to shake hands; while, to complete her mystification, she caught sight of Lady Haigh smiling and nodding at her from the other side of a long table. Denarien Bey placed chairs for the new arrivals—a proceeding which reminded Cecil forcibly of the words sometimes met with in the reports of trials, “the prisoner at the bar was accommodated with a seat,”—and then returned to his place, so that Cecil had time to look about her.

There were some eight or nine gentlemen present, the chief of whom seemed to be a grey-haired man at the end of the table. His face was in some way familiar to Cecil, but it was not at first that she remembered that she had seen him in close attendance on the Turkish Ambassador on his way to some State function. Next to him, on either side, sat Lady Haigh and Denarien Bey, and then came several vivacious, dark-eyed gentlemen in fezzes, who talked among themselves with a great deal of gesticulation, and seemed to bear a kind of national likeness to the Armenian envoy. Somewhat apart from the rest sat a stout elderly Englishman, with a stolid and unconvinced expression, and a general air of being present to keep other people from being imposed upon. There was also a secretary—a slim, dark-skinned youth in spectacles, who scribbled notes in a large clasped book, when he was not nibbling his pen and staring at Cecil; and lastly, at the very end of the table, Cecil and Miss Arbuthnot themselves. Cecil was in a hopeless state of amazement and mystification, feeling, moreover, a terrible inclination to giggle on finding herself the cynosure of all the eyes in the room. What could it all mean? Was it possible that Ahmed Khémi Pasha, who was said to be fond of European innovations, was going to found a High School in Baghdad? and was she to take charge of it? But no; Miss Arbuthnot had said that the situation was to be in a private family. What could be going to happen?

There was a little low-toned conversation between the two gentlemen at the head of the table, and then Denarien Bey spoke.

“We have heard, mademoiselle, that you are willing to accept a situation as governess out of England—a course seldom adopted by young ladies of your high attainments. This suggested to her ladyship,” he bowed to Lady Haigh, “and myself the idea that you might be found the proper person to undertake a charge of a very delicate and important nature. Before saying more, I must impress upon you that all that passes here is in strict confidence, whether the result of this interview is satisfactory or the reverse.”

Cecil bowed, and he went on—

“I think I shall scarcely be committing an indiscretion if I mention in the present company that his Excellency Ahmed Khémi Pasha, whom I have the honour to represent here, intends to make his third son, Azim Shams-ed-Din Bey, his heir. A cause may be found for this in the unsatisfactory character of his Excellency’s eldest son; and there are also other family reasons which render it imperative. His Excellency has always felt a profound admiration for the English people, and this has of late so much increased that he is anxious to secure an English governess for the Bey, who is now about ten years old. As I was about to visit England, his Excellency thought fit to confide to me the duty of finding a lady with suitable qualifications who would be willing to accept the post, and I, feeling the charge too heavy for me, even with the kind and experienced help of her ladyship, have taken the precaution of associating with myself my good friend Tussûn Bey,” here he bowed to the old gentleman at the head of the table, “and these other kind friends.”

There was another interlude of bowing, and Denarien Bey continued—

“The special qualifications which his Excellency desired me to seek in the lady who is to have the charge of his son are these: she must be capable of carrying on and completing the Bey’s education in all but strictly military subjects; she must be young and—and—well, not disagreeable-looking, that the Bey may feel inclined to learn from her; she must be discreet and not given to making mischief; and she must have been trained in the best methods of teaching. May I trouble you, mademoiselle, to bring your testimonials to this end of the table?”

Somewhat surprised, Cecil rose and carried her bundle of papers to him, while the other gentlemen all turned round on their chairs to look at her, apparently to ascertain whether she fulfilled the second condition satisfactorily.

“I think, gentlemen,” said Tussûn Bey in French, “that if Mademoiselle Antaza”—he made a bold attempt at the unmanageable name—“finds herself able to accept the situation, his Excellency will be much gratified by her appearance. She is thoroughly English.”

“Vraiment anglaise!” ran down the table, as all the gentlemen gazed critically at the tall slight figure in the severely simple tweed dress and cloth jacket, with the small close hat and short veil crowning the smooth hair. Cecil returned blushing to her place, while Denarien Bey explained to his assessors the purport of the various testimonials; and the secretary, finding Miss Arbuthnot’s eye upon him, made copious notes. After a time the papers were all returned to Denarien Bey, the gentlemen making remarks upon them in two or three strange-sounding dialects; and after receiving a paper from the secretary, the Pasha’s representative proceeded to explain the terms which were offered.

The salary proposed was a large one, but the Pasha was anxious that his son’s course of study should be uninterrupted, and it was therefore his endeavour to secure for it an unbroken period of five years by the following plan. Cecil was to sign an agreement, if her services were engaged, to serve for two years, and on the expiration of this term she could, if she was willing, at once sign another bond to remain three years more, after which she was to be entitled to a large extra bonus in consideration of her labours in conducting Azim Bey’s education to a successful close. If Cecil broke the agreement, she was to forfeit the salary for all but the time she had actually served; but if it was broken by the Pasha for any cause excepting her misconduct, the balance was to be paid to her. By the end of the five years Azim Bey would be fifteen, and old enough to be emancipated from female control, and Cecil might return to her own country after an uninterrupted absence of five years.

Cecil’s heart sank as she listened. When she heard the amount of the salary offered, she had eagerly calculated what she could do for the boys with it, and the mention of the bonus raised high hopes in her heart, until she realised the conditions under which alone it was to be gained. Actually to expatriate herself for five whole years! Never to see England, or her father, or cheerful little Mrs Anstruther, or any of those dear dreadful children for five years! It was too appalling. She was on the point of rising and refusing the situation point-blank, but she found that Denarien Bey was speaking again.

“You will take until the day after to-morrow to consider this, mademoiselle. I will peruse carefully your testimonials, if you will be good enough to leave them with me; and if they prove satisfactory, as I have no doubt will be the case, and you decide to accept the terms offered by his Excellency, Lady Haigh’s return to Baghdad to rejoin her husband will afford an excellent opportunity for your journey thither. This proposal comes from her ladyship herself, and I do not doubt that you will rejoice to avail yourself of it. I would remind you that there is no obligation upon you, when you have served for two years, to sign the further bond for three years more, although his Excellency is anxious to secure this, and offers such a handsome present with the view of obtaining it. I thank you for your presence here to-day, mademoiselle, and will not trouble you any further.”

The whole assembly rose and bowed as Cecil and Miss Arbuthnot passed out, Lady Haigh following them closely.

“Come to my sitting-room,” she said; “you are going to lunch with me, you know. Denarien Bey will be coming in as soon as he has got rid of his friends, and then we can pick his brains to some purpose.”