The Passionate Elopement 17 – Mackenzie · Verses Across
Literature · Romance
The Passionate Elopement 17Monarchy in Repose
18
Literature · Romance
The Passionate Elopement 17
Monarchy in Repose
MackenzieEnglish
On the following morning after breakfast Mrs. Courteen produced a strip of faded rose ribband.
"Try to match this, child," she said to Phyllida.
"But mamma, 'tis not possible. The silk is old," expostulated the daughter who was dressed and ready to take the air.
"Nothing is impossible, child," generalised the widow. "Do your best--all that is required of human beings. You may take Thomas with you."
"But mamma, I don't want Thomas. I would rather take Betty."
"People can't always take what they desire in this world, and a very good thing too," remarked Mrs. Courteen, "for the world would be a wickeder place if they could. Betty must stay and help me."
The widow was determined to begin the supervision of her daughter recommended by Mr. Ripple. It was the old story of Sisyphus and the Stones, of Tregeagle and the Thimble; as mischievous spirits are kept occupied in Tartarus, and condemned for ever to the performance of the impossible, so was Phyllida to be kept from the temptations of idleness, in order to save, if not her soul, at any rate her reputation.
The widow apprehended that obedience would be more easily secured by guile than the direct imposition of a command.
Miss Phyllida Courteen went out that morning with a sullen little frown above her charming little nose, and walked so fast that Thomas was hard put to keep his proper distance behind her as he continued to mutter, 'How long, O Lord?' with many a dolorous wheeze and mortified grunt.
In and out of a dozen haberdashers they went. All the young women behind the counters were very polite and amazingly hopeful, but when they came to pull out the long drawers filled with ribbands of every size and colour, they could only produce the gayest pinks, the most brilliant shades of rose, and though they continued to be very cheerful and persuaded themselves and their rather petulant customer that the match was as near as could be expected, they were quite unsuccessful, and the ribbands were put back in the drawers to await a less exacting purchaser.
Finally Phyllida, turning out of the tenth shop, heard St. Simon's clock strike eleven. It was a moderately fine morning, and she knew her beau was at that moment turning into Curtain Garden. She stamped her foot with vexation and disappointment.
"Oh Thomas, Thomas! was ever such a mad errand before?" complained his mistress.
"Velvet! Vanity! and a-whoring after strange silks," groaned Thomas.
"Thomas," said Miss Courteen in her most engaging voice, "you would do anything for me?"
"With God's help," agreed the footman.
"And you'd do a great deal for a shilling-piece?"
"To spite Beelzebub," said Thomas.
"Then, Thomas, step down to the Western Colonnade, make my compliments to Miss Sukey Morton, say I hope she is better of her cold, and will she give Miss Phyllida Courteen the pleasure of her company to Mrs. Pinkle's Conversazione. But perhaps you'll forget that long message?"
Thomas replied in accents of unctuous solemnity:
"Better of her cold and quite recovered."
"Yes, but there's more."
"Waste not, want not," he answered severely.
"Oh Lud! I suppose I were wise to write it down," with which Miss Courteen tried the eleventh haberdasher. The pinks were just as light, the carmines as crude and fresh as ever.
But at the opposite counter it was possible to buy the most agreeable paper; so Miss Courteen bought a quire, and also a box of wafers marked with a laurel-wreathed C. Then she borrowed old Mrs. Rambone's crow-quill pen with which the accounts were made up every evening in the little back parlour, and Miss Lettice Rambone politely cleared a corner of the counter and brought out a standish, while Phyllida put her swansdown muff on the chair because, though it was high enough to pull about haberdashery, it wasn't high enough for writing letters. After much arrangement, she wrote:
"MY DEAREST MISS MORTON,--_I hope you are better of your cold. I am truly anxious that you should come and see me this afternoon at four o'clock on a matter of great importance. I am truly distressed by a most unlucky Event. I doubt my dearest Sukey can guess what disturbs her.
