No Name Wilkie Collins (e book reader android TXT) 📖

first. After making all the inquiries that occurred to her at the time, and after determining to give the maid a fair trial, Magdalen rose to leave the room. The very air in it was still heavy to her with the oppression of the past night.

“Have you anything more to say to me?” she asked, turning to the servant, with her hand on the door.

“I beg your pardon, miss,” said Louisa, very respectfully and very quietly. “I think my master told me that the marriage was to be tomorrow?”

Magdalen repressed the shudder that stole over her at that reference to the marriage on the lips of a stranger, and answered in the affirmative.

“It’s a very short time, miss, to prepare in. If you would be so kind as to give me my orders about the packing before you go downstairs⁠—?”

“There are no such preparations to make as you suppose,” said Magdalen, hastily. “The few things I have here can be all packed at once, if you like. I shall wear the same dress tomorrow which I have on today. Leave out the straw bonnet and the light shawl, and put everything else into my boxes. I have no new dresses to pack; I have nothing ordered for the occasion of any sort.” She tried to add some commonplace phrases of explanation, accounting as probably as might be for the absence of the usual wedding outfit and wedding-dress. But no further reference to the marriage would pass her lips, and without an other word she abruptly left the room.

The meek and melancholy Louisa stood lost in astonishment. “Something wrong here,” she thought. “I’m half afraid of my new place already.” She sighed resignedly, shook her head, and went to the wardrobe. She first examined the drawers underneath, took out the various articles of linen laid inside, and placed them on chairs. Opening the upper part of the wardrobe next, she ranged the dresses in it side by side on the bed. Her last proceeding was to push the empty boxes into the middle of the room, and to compare the space at her disposal with the articles of dress which she had to pack. She completed her preliminary calculations with the ready self-reliance of a woman who thoroughly understood her business, and began the packing forthwith. Just as she had placed the first article of linen in the smaller box, the door of the room opened, and the house-servant, eager for gossip, came in.

“What do you want?” asked Louisa, quietly.

“Did you ever hear of anything like this!” said the house-servant, entering on her subject immediately.

“Like what?”

“Like this marriage, to be sure. You’re London bred, they tell me. Did you ever hear of a young lady being married without a single new thing to her back? No wedding veil, and no wedding breakfast, and no wedding favors for the servants. It’s flying in the face of Providence⁠—that’s what I say. I’m only a poor servant, I know. But it’s wicked, downright wicked⁠—and I don’t care who hears me!”

Louisa went on with the packing.

“Look at her dresses!” persisted the house-servant, waving her hand indignantly at the bed. “I’m only a poor girl, but I wouldn’t marry the best man alive without a new gown to my back. Look here! look at this dowdy brown thing here. Alpaca! You’re not going to pack this alpaca thing, are you? Why, it’s hardly fit for a servant! I don’t know that I’d take a gift of it if it was offered me. It would do for me if I took it up in the skirt, and let it out in the waist⁠—and it wouldn’t look so bad with a bit of bright trimming, would it?”

“Let that dress alone, if you please,” said Louisa, as quietly as ever.

“What did you say?” inquired the other, doubting whether her ears had not deceived her.

“I said, let that dress alone. It belongs to my mistress, and I have my mistress’s orders to pack up everything in the room. You are not helping me by coming here⁠—you are very much in my way.”

“Well!” said the house-servant, “you may be London bred, as they say. But if these are your London manners, give me Suffolk!” She opened the door with an angry snatch at the handle, shut it violently, opened it again, and looked in. “Give me Suffolk!” said the house-servant, with a parting nod of her head to point the edge of her sarcasm.

Louisa proceeded impenetrably with her packing up.

Having neatly disposed of the linen in the smaller box, she turned her attention to the dresses next. After passing them carefully in review, to ascertain which was the least valuable of the collection, and to place that one at the bottom of the trunk for the rest to lie on, she made her choice with very little difficulty. The first gown which she put into the box was⁠—the brown alpaca dress.

Meanwhile Magdalen had joined the captain downstairs. Although he could not fail to notice the languor in her face and the listlessness of all her movements, he was relieved to find that she met him with perfect composure. She was even self-possessed enough to ask him for news of his journey, with no other signs of agitation than a passing change of color and a little trembling of the lips.

“So much for the past,” said Captain Wragge, when his narrative of the expedition to London by way of St. Crux had come to an end. “Now for the present. The bridegroom⁠—”

“If it makes no difference,” she interposed, “call him Mr. Noel Vanstone.”

“With all my heart. Mr. Noel Vanstone is coming here this afternoon to dine and spend the evening. He will be tiresome in the last degree; but, like all tiresome people, he is not to be got rid of on any terms. Before he comes, I have a last word or two of caution for your private ear. By this time tomorrow we shall have parted⁠—without any certain knowledge, on either side, of