The Tinted Venus: A Farcical Romance by F. Anstey (fiction book recommendations TXT) 📖

"This is Leander, mamma dear," said Matilda, shyly and yet proudly.

Her mother inspected him for a moment, and then half closed her eyes. "My daughter tells me that you carry on the occupation of a hairdresser," she said.

"Quite correct, madam," said Leander; "I do."

"Ah! well," she said, with an unconcealed sigh, "I could have wished to look higher than hairdressing for my Matilda; but there are opportunities of doing good even as a hairdresser. I trust you are sensible of that."

"I try to do as little 'arm as I can," he said feebly.

"If you do not do good, you must do harm," she said uncompromisingly. "You have it in your means to be an awakening influence. No one knows the power that a single serious hairdresser might effect with worldly customers. Have you never thought of that?"

"Well, I can't say I have exactly," he said; "and I don't see how."

"There are cheap and appropriate illuminated texts," she said, "to be had at so much a dozen; you could hang them on your walls. There are tracts you procure by the hundred; you could put them in the lining of hats as you hang them up; you could wrap them round your—your bottles and pomatum-pots. You could drop a word in season in your customer's ear as you bent over him. And you tell me you don't see how; you will not see, I fear, Mr. Tweddle."

"I'm afraid, mum," he replied, "my customers would consider I was taking liberties."

"And what of that, so long as you save them?"

"Well, you see, I shouldn't—I should lose 'em! And[Pg 187] it's not done in our profession; and, to tell you the honest truth, I'm not given that way myself—not to the extent of tracks and suchlike, that is."

Matilda's mother groaned; it was hard to find a son-in-law with whom she had nothing in common, and who was a hairdresser into the bargain.

"Well, well," she said, "we must expect crosses in this life; though for my own daughter to lay this one upon me is—is——But I will not repine."

"I'm sorry you regard me in the light of a cross," said Leander; "but, whether I'm a cross or a naught, I'm a respectable man, and I love your daughter, mum, and I'm in a position to maintain her."

Leander hated to have to appear under false pretences, of which he had had more than enough of late. He was glad now to speak out plainly, particularly as he had no reason to fear this old woman.

"Hush, Leander! Mamma didn't mean to be unkind; did you, mamma?" said Matilda.

"I said what I felt," she said. "We will not discuss it further. If, in time, I see reason for bestowing my blessing upon a choice which at present——But no matter. If I see reason in time, I will not withhold it. I can hardly be expected to approve at present."

"You shall take your own time, mum; I won't hurry you," said Leander. "Tillie is blessing enough for me—not but what I shall be glad to be on a pleasant footing with you, I'm sure, if you can bring yourself to it."

Before Mrs. Collum could reply, Miss Louisa Tweddle made an opportune appearance, to the relief of Matilda, in whom her mother's attitude was causing some uneasiness.

Miss Tweddle was a well-preserved little woman, with[Pg 188] short curly iron-grey hair and sharp features. In manner she was brisk, not to say chirpy, but she secreted sentiment in large quantities. She was very far from the traditional landlady, and where she lost lodgers occasionally she retained friends. She regarded Mrs. Collum with something like reverence, as an acquaintance of her youth who had always occupied a superior social position, and she was proud, though somewhat guiltily so, that her favourite nephew should have succeeded in captivating the daughter of a dentist.

She kissed Leander on both cheeks. "He's done the best of all my nephews, Mrs. Collum, ma'am," she explained, "and he's never caused me a moment's anxiety since I first had the care of him, when he was first apprenticed to Catchpole's in Holborn, and paid me for his board."

"Well, well," said Mrs. Collum, "I hope he never may cause anxiety to you, or to any one."

"I'll answer for it, he won't," said his aunt. "I wish you could see him dress a head of hair."

Mrs. Collum shut her eyes again. "If at his age he has not acquired the necessary skill for his line in life," she observed, "it would be a very melancholy thing to reflect upon."

"Yes, wouldn't it?" agreed Miss Tweddle; "you say very truly, Mrs. Collum. But he's got ideas and notions beyond what you'd expect in a hairdresser—haven't you, Leandy? Tell Miss Collum's dear ma about the new machines you've invented for altering people's hands and eyes and features."

"I don't care to be told," the lady struck in. "To my mind, it's nothing less than sheer impiety to go improving the features we've been endowed with. We ought to be content as we are, and be thankful we've[Pg 189] been sent into the world with any features at all. Those are my opinions!"

"Ah," said the politic Leander, "but some people are saved having resort to Art for improvement, and we oughtn't to blame them as are less favoured for trying to render themselves more agreeable as spectacles, ought we?"

"And if every one thought with you," added his aunt, with distinctly inferior tact, "where would your poor dear 'usband have been, Mrs. Collum, ma'am?"

"My dear husband was not on the same level—he was a medical man; and, besides, though he replaced Nature in one of her departments, he had too much principle to imitate her. Had he been (or had I allowed him to be) less conscientious, his practice would have been largely extended; but I can truthfully declare that not a single one of his false teeth was capable of deceiving for an instant. I hope," she added to Leander, "you, in your own different way, are as scrupulous."

"Why, the fact is," said Leander, whose professional susceptibilities were now aroused, "I am essentially an artist. When I look around, I see that Nature out of its bounty has supplied me with a choice selection of patterns to follow, and I reproduce them as faithful as lies within my abilities. You may call it a fine thing to take a blank canvas, and represent the luxurious tresses and the blooming hue of 'ealth upon it, and so do I; but I call it a still higher and nobler act to produce a similar effect upon a human 'ed!"

"Isn't that a pretty speech for a young man like him—only twenty-seven—Mrs. Collum?" exclaimed his admiring aunt.

"You see, mamma dear," pleaded Matilda, who saw that her parent remained unaffected, "it isn't as if Leander was in poor papa's profession."[Pg 190]

"I hope, Matilda," said the lady sharply, "you are not going to pain me again by mentioning this young man and your departed father in the same breath, because I cannot bear it."

"The old lady," reflected Leander here, "don't seem to take to me!"

"I'm sure," said Miss Tweddle, "Leandy quite feels what an honour it is to him to look forward to such a connection as yours is. When I first heard of it, I said at once, 'Leandy, you can't never mean it; she won't look at you; it's no use your asking her,' I said. And I quite scolded myself for ever bringing them together!"

Mrs. Collum seemed inclined to follow suit, but she restrained herself. "Ah! well," she observed, "my daughter has chosen to take her own way, without consulting my prejudices. All I hope is, that she may never repent it!"

"Very handsomely said, ma'am," chimed in Miss Tweddle; "and, if I know my nephew, repent it she never will!"

Leander was looking rather miserable; but Matilda put out her hand to him behind his aunt's back, and their eyes and hands met, and he was happy again.

"You must be wanting your dinner, Mrs. Collum," his aunt proceeded; "and we are only waiting for another lady and gentleman to make up the party. I don't know what's made them so behindhand, I'm sure. He's a very pleasant young man, and punctual to the second when he lodged with me. I happened to run across him up by Chancery Lane the other evening, and he said to me, in his funny way, 'I've been and gone and done it, Miss Tweddle, since I saw you. I'm a happy man; and I'm thinking of bringing my young lady soon to introduce to you.' So I asked them to come[Pg 191] and take a bit of dinner with me to-day, and I told him two o'clock sharp, I'm sure. Ah, there they are at last! That's Mr. Jauncy's knock, among a thousand."

Leander started. "Aunt!" he cried, "you haven't asked Jauncy here to-day?"

"Yes, I did, Leandy. I knew you used to be friends when you were together here, and I thought how nice it would be for both your young ladies to make each other's acquaintance; but I didn't tell him anything. I meant it for a surprise."

And she bustled out to receive her guests, leaving Leander speechless. What if the new-comers were to make some incautious reference to that pleasure-party on Saturday week? Could he drop them a warning hint?

"Don't you like this Mr. Jauncy, Leander?" whispered Matilda, who had observed his ghastly expression.

"I like him well enough," he returned, with an effort; "but I'd rather we had no third parties, I must say."

Here Mr. Jauncy came in alone, Miss Tweddle having retired to assist the lady to take off her bonnet.

Leander went to meet him. "James," he said in an agitated whisper, "have you brought Bella?"

Jauncy nodded. "We were talking of you as we came along," he said in the same tone, "and I advise you to look out—she's got her quills up, old chap!"

"What about?" murmured Leander.

Mr. Jauncy's grin was wider and more appreciative than ever as he replied, mysteriously, "Rosherwich!"

Leander would have liked to ask in