CHAPTER III

MRS. THOMAS TRATTLES

MR. CHOUSEY advertising, as well the arrival of his victims, as their departure and where they go to, our fair friends had hardly got themselves shook out in their pretty semi-detached villa in Seaview Place, and John Thomas his calves revised and hair powdered after the toils of unpacking, ere the well-known Mrs. Thomas Trattles came, card-case in hand, to pay her respects to the newly arrived inmates. Mrs. Trattles knew a lady who knew a gentleman who knew another lady who knew a cousin of the late lamented Mr. McDermott, and upon the strength of their far-fetched introduction, she had called to see if she could be of any use to Mrs. McDermott, help her to a cook—tell her of a grocer, a blanchisseuse, a bather-woman, a butcher, a flyman—anything that was wanted.

Mrs. Trattles lived a good deal upon commission, and was always ready, in the mediating way, to arrange introductions, adjust differences, recommend houses, engage musicians, or attend dinner-parties on the shortest notice. She knew everything and everybody, and was considered a great authority in the matter of money. She acquired this reputation, and maintained her ascendancy, by always descending to minutiæ—telling the odd hundreds, instead of dealing in thousands, as most people do. Thus young Wheeler would have four thousand three hundred and twenty pounds a year, instead of the five thousand that Mrs. Bolsterworth, the opposition matrimonial appraiser, boldly assigned to him; while Mrs. Trattles knew that Captain Caret’s great expectations from an uncle were much overrated, the estate of Meadowbank, upon which they chiefly dwelt, being close to a particular friend of hers, and barely worth fifteen hundred a year, out of which there was a payment of eighty-two pounds a year for keeping up a school, all very imposing information on account of its perspicuity. To say that Mrs. Trattles knew nothing about either case, would not be far from the mark. That, however, is neither here nor there; people like to believe what they wish, and it answered Mrs. Trattles’ purpose to accommodate them.

For fanning a flirtation she was truly invaluable, and was frequently retained on both sides. She was now busily engaged in endeavouring to clench a somewhat procrastinated courtship between Captain Languisher of the Cooington Hussars and pretty Sarah Snowball, whose face unfortunately was her fortune; as also in trying to induce Mr. de Breezey to reciprocate Miss Nettleworth’s devotion, without any apparent progress in either case. Rides and drives, and boats and balls, had all been tried unsuccessfully, and now the fine weather had prompted an excursion to the beautiful ruins of Witchwood Priory.

The thing was about ripe when Mrs. Trattles found our fair friends’ names in the list of arrivals, and learning from Mrs. Chousey, with whom she was on easy tea-drinking terms, that they were highly genteel people, and Miss very pretty, she determined to avail herself of the unlimited capability of a Pic-Nic, to enlist them in the service. Having now satisfied herself that they would do, she gradually unfolded her budget of gaiety and amusements, coming at length to the Pic-Nic, and dwelling on the enchanting nature of the scenery around Witchwood Priory, with incidental mention of the great people who would be there. Sir Stephen Sappey, the member for Bluffshire’s eldest son, with eighteen thousand a year landed property; Mr. Bolingbroke Benson, with a Peerage in expectancy; Mr. John and Mr. William Worthington, both very nice young men; Mr. Stanley Smith, Mr. Martin Hogg, and many other great catches.

Mrs. McDermott heard all Mrs. Trattles had to say with well-feigned indifference. She was extremely obliged—very much so indeed—but they were not there for gaiety, merely on a bathing excursion while their house was getting painted, and if they were to go, they wouldn’t know anybody, and altogether, she was afraid they must decline; at the same time, they were extremely obliged to Mrs. Trattles for thinking of them, very much obliged indeed, and so on. Mrs. Trattles, on the other hand, charged with vigorous determination —“Oh, dear, indeed; but she would take care that they should know everybody, she would introduce them herself.” But Mrs. McDermott, not knowing her friend, wisely left the offer open, promising to let Mrs. Trattles know in the evening if they could come. And Mrs. Trattles having presented her card, presently cleared herself out—hoops and all—leaving Mamma and Miss to con the matter over, who shortly after put on their things to go out for a stroll, but in reality, to call at Comfit, the confectioner’s, to eat themselves into the information they required. Suffice it to say, that what they heard of Mrs. Trattles was so satisfactory, that they were next seen at that interesting repertory, Madame Bergamotte’s bonnet shop, trying on bonnet after bonnet, until all idea of what they intended to have was entirely lost sight of. It ended, however, in two blue boxes and a bill arriving that evening in Seaview Place. Nor was this all; for next day, Monsieur Julian Millefleurs, the famous Parisian hairdresser, who tires for three and sixpence a trip, was summoned along, who immediately, on seeing our fair friend’s soft blue eyes beaming between two bunches of light brown ringlets, denounced those bar-maid looking things, and insisted upon dressing her hair in plain bands, which both Mrs. and Miss afterwards agreed were very becoming. And they wondered what a “certain person” would say if he saw her, said “certain person” being an admirer of ringlets.