Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 193: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

ne —— NL ID LEAL EC TET TET A ETSI araianiem asain tama ig a ate, 180 take me home, I said to Miss Howard, “ Shall we not uso the equipage, however short the dis- tance P” She hesitated for a moment—and then said, “I forgot !—you are not accustomed to walk through the streets at such an hour. It was inconsiderate on my part to make such a proposition! Return you home, my dear Miss Trafford, in the carriage; and favour me with a call to-morrow, instead of my keeping the appointment previously arranged for your own abode. God knows that my address is a humble one!—but I know that you are not too proud to visit me there.” She mentioned the place of her abode; and be- fore I could give utterance to another word, she glided rapidly away. I returned in the carriage to Hunter Street, reflecting the while on all that had taken place, and wondering whether the mor- row would throw any additional light upon the circumstances of Frances Howard. After breakfast on the following morning, I set out on foot to visit my new friend. I was com- pletely ignorant of the street which she had named to me; and when I reached the neighbourhood in which, according to her information, it was situated, I was compelled to step into a shop and make ad- ditional inquiries. A woman was serving at the counter ; and when I put the question, she sur- veyed me attentively before she answered it. At length she said, “I suppose, Miss, it is for some charitable purpose you are going to that street —for it is a very poor one.” The thought flashed to my mind that it might possibly be one which I could not enter with pro- priety; and though I revolted against the idea, as | being insulting to Frances Howard herself, yet I could not help saying, ‘ It may be a poor street: but I hope that it is at least respectable ?” “Oh! as for the matter of that,” replied the mistress of the shop, “it is as respectable as any poor neighbourhood can possibly be: but I have the honour of knowing you by sight, Miss Trafford —and I thought I would take the liberty “Thank you for your well-meant kindness,” I said. “The person whom I seek is indeed poor— but I have no reason to doubt her respectability.” The mistress of the shop, now appearing to be convinced that my object was a charitable one, gave me the requisite instructions; and in a few minutes I was threading the street where Frances Howard dwelt. It was somewhere in the neigh- bourhood of Clare Market: but I have now for- gotten the name; and it was indeed a very poor street. I found the house which I sought: there was a chandler’s shop on the ground-floor ; and its appearance was altogether mean enough. I in- quired of a fat dirty looking woman—who was selling candles and soap to a still dirtier-looking girl—whether Miss Howard dwelt there ?—and she looked at me in astonishment. I began to think that I must have made some mistake; when the woman exclaimed, “Ah! perhaps you mean, Miss, the young person who lives in the back attic ? But this is the first time I ever heard her name mentioned. Please to ring the top bell in the door- post.” . I walked out of the shop, which I had entered for the purpose of making the inquiry; and on examining the side of the little private door, I perceived a perpendicular array of small brass bell: St ELLEN PERCY; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF AN ACTRESS. handles. I pulled the uppermost one; and in a few moments the door was opened by Frances Howard. She grasped my hand in silence; and I saw that she was much affected at being compelled to receive me in such a place. I instantaneously said a few reassuring words; and I followed her up a staircase to which little light penetrated; but still the obscurity was not so great as to prevent me from observing the uncleanliness of the steps and the blackened condition of the walls. Not another word was spoken until the back attic was reached. Here everything was scrupulously clean: but the whole appearance of the little chamber was poverty-stricken — Oh! so poverty-stricken, that my blood turned cold in my veins, and I could scarcely prevent the tears from gushing forth. It was evidently a ready-furnished room which my poor friend tenanted,—if a miserable bed, a ricketty three-legged round table, a couple of rush-bottomed chairs, an old rug, a scrap of carpet, and a few other trifling articles, deserved the denomination of “furniture.” I dared not for a few moments look at Frances Howard: I felt that it was a most painful position for her to be placed in; and heaven knows that mine. as a visitress to that dreary miserable chamber, was likewise painful enough. At length I glanced furtively towards her. She was very, very pale—the expression of her countenance was indescribably sorrowful—and the tears were trickling down her cheeks. I caught her in my arms; and we both of us wept. Some minutes elapsed before our feelings ac quired sufficient composure for conversation: and Frances was the first to break silence. “You can no longer wonder, my dear friend,” she said, “that I should have hesitated to give you my address, or that at the outset of our ac- quaintance I should have declined to receive a visit from you. This is the wretched abode where for weeks and months past I have dwelt, in solitude, in wretchedness, and in poverty. Oh! you cannot conjecture the privations I have endured !” “And never again shall you endure them!” I vehemently exclaimed. ‘ Good heavens! why did you refuse at the beginning to make me your con- fidante ?” “ Know you not, my dear friend,” she replied, in a gentle voice, and with a soft deprecating look, “that there is a certain pride with those who have known better days? And this pride on my part —Oh, deem it nota false or foolish one !—would have prompted me to maintain the secret of this poverty-stricken abode, and never to have received a visit from you until I should have had a more suitable apartment wherein to welcome you,— were it not for an incident which occurred-last night.” “You allude,” I said, “to the presence of the Marchioness of Campanella at the theatre ?’—al- though I did not precisely see how that incident could have induced Miss Howard to alter her deter. mination with regard to keeping her abode a secret from me. rts “ Yes — you are right,” she responded. “And now, my dear Miss Trafford, [am about to ask you a favour—a very great favour!” “Tell me how I can serve you,’ I said; “and rest assured of my willingness to render you any assistance in my power. But pray in the first instance come away with me quick, Frances! e CONMIEIOO KS com