Chapter 18 Such Vicarious Vanity
Such Vicarious Vanity
“IT IS SUCH a shame that Rose could not join us!” Mrs Hartley said for the third time since Belinda had climbed into the Hartleys’ carriage half an hour earlier.
“Oh Mamma, Miss Everson has already explained why her aunt could not come. Surely if Papa were taken ill, you would not venture out the very next day.” Dora shot Belinda an apologetic smile. “We do wish your uncle a quick recovery.”
“I’m sure you are right. But it is not every day that one is granted admittance to the Zoological Society, you know.” Above the collar of her almost violently violet pelisse, Mrs Hartley’s face crinkled with puzzlement. “And I cannot think why dear Leo and Davis also declined to come with us.”
I think I might know why, Belinda thought, her ears tired already at her hostess’s incessant chatter.
Earlier, when Minnie had come into the parlour to announce that the carriage of a family called Hartley was waiting outside, Belinda and Rose had stared at each other in surprise. Neither had given the zoo outing a single thought since the tumult of the previous afternoon.
Rose suggested that Belinda ought to keep the engagement if she at all wanted to, insisting she would not be needed at home for the next few hours.
Still, Belinda had felt guilty as she donned her pelisse.
Now, as she sat in the carriage, she wondered if she was being courageous in venturing out with new friends, or cowardly for fleeing Hertford Street right when Mr Alwyn was expected to arrive there.
At a pause in Mrs Hartley’s prattle, Lindy realized a question had just been asked of her.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Your aunt is so lovely,” Mrs Hartley began again. “She must have been the belle of the season when she first appeared! How ever did your uncle charm her to the altar? Surely he cannot be as handsome as she!”
Thinking the praise a bit sharp, Lindy gave a breathy laugh and answered, “Oh! Well, Uncle George is a very fine fellow, but yes, Aunt Rose is certainly the more comely of the two.”
“Mamma,” Dora tutted. “I am sure you do not mean to slight the man, especially as he is unwell.”
“Where is the slight in saying that his wife, who is well past her first bloom, is still beautiful?”
Offering a small smile in response, Belinda was thankful when Mrs Hartley launched into another subject, and pried no further into the history of Mr and Mrs Caspar’s courtship.
She herself was fourteen before Nell told her in a whisper that Aunt Rose had been an actress in London.
Thinking it would be disrespectful to ask questions about the matter, Lindy had learned nothing more about it except for a few snippets that she overheard from her parents’ conversations.
‘There was nothing improper about it, regardless of what some might say or want to believe about actresses,’ her mother had once said.
And why are actresses so ill-regarded? Belinda wondered for possibly the hundredth time in her life. If their work upon the stage is thought unseemly, why do even lords and ladies flock to theatres and pay to see it?
The carriage rolled into the yard at Regent’s Park, and Mrs Hartley’s chatter stopped. When the footman swung open the door, she went through it in a flash, her feet crunching across the gravel even before the younger ladies had collected their reticules.
“This way, girls!” Her voice was shrill as she bustled towards the admission gate at remarkable speed.
“Goodness, she is delighted to be here.” There was a touch of embarrassment in Dora’s voice as she and Belinda disembarked. “I am so thankful you agreed to come along with us, Miss Everson. Had you not, I could not enjoy myself nearly as much.”
“I was so pleased to be invited,” Lindy said, which was true even though she had forgotten about the invitation afterwards.
Dora held her hand out shyly as if to be led forward, and Belinda grasped it without hesitance.
“Don’t dilly-dally – we’ve much to do!” Mrs Hartley cried over her shoulder from the front gate. With a flourish, she produced the written order from her reticule, holding it out for the gatekeeper’s examination.
I might prove useful to Miss Hartley today, especially if her mother intends to spend the morning ever ahead of us, Lindy thought as she held her friend’s arm snugly against her side, heading into the gardens.
Directly ahead, several guests were standing, peering into a wrought-iron enclosure. Reaching it, Belinda saw a very large bird was inside, perched on a leafy branch. For Miss Hartley’s benefit she read aloud a sign which was affixed to the ornate aviary.
“’Doctor Brookes’, A Griffon Vulture.”
“‘Doctor’, is it?” Dora simpered.
Seeing how the bird’s fluffy brown plumage contrasted with its scrawny neck and downy head, Lindy whispered, “He looks more like a bald man in a bear coat to me.”
Laughing, Dora pressed her face against the bars and squinted determinedly at the vulture, making Belinda wonder again what might be wrong with her eyes that a pair of spectacles could not fix.
“Oh, my!” Miss Hartley cried as the bird upreared its wings before resettling itself. “He’s a big fellow, isn’t he?”
Mrs Hartley hooted with laughter. “Indeed! No pot in the kitchen could hold him, though he looks half-plucked for it!”
Chuckling, Belinda was grateful that not every utterance from the woman’s mouth required patience.
However, Mrs Hartley then strode off without a glance backward, saying, “Come, girls! I believe the birds from the Americas are this way!”
Nettled anew, Lindy felt little obligation to hurry after her.
At least I can ensure that her daughter has no trouble keeping up with me.
As she reached for Miss Hartley’s hand, a thought streaked through her mind like a meteor in the night sky.
Perhaps I could be employed as Dora’s companion!
Her heart sped up at the prospect as she led her friend down the gravel pathway.
Surely even her mother could see the benefits of such an arrangement. She said herself that Dora’s governess was proved useful in her own way.
Stepping up to the parrot enclosure, Lindy wondered if the formerly mentioned Miss Harp had been dismissed, or had left of her own accord.
“Oh!” Dora gasped, her faulty eyes flitting over the colorful flock. “Such blues and yellows!
Though smiling at her friend’s delight, Belinda felt her ears were being assaulted. Covering them against the parrots’ screeches, she thought through the ways she might assist Dora while out in society, as well as at home, and became ever more convinced of the idea.
When at last Mrs Hartley had tired of the cacophony, she set off again, eager to see another American creature.
Arriving at a paddock together, the ladies beheld a small, gangly herd.
These llamas, as they were called, appeared to have actual smiles on their furry faces.
Dora beamed, hearing Belinda describe how their lower jaws looped around comically whilst they chewed their cud.
When a workman entered the pen to fill a water trough, the largest llama flattened its ears at him.
As Lindy narrated this, she was not expecting the beast to then draw back its lips, and spatter the keeper with a spray of stinking slime from its mouth.
The girls had hardly recovered from their fit of horrified giggles before the fidgeting Mrs Hartley was ready to move on again.
Making their way down a narrower path, they found an odd, towering stable. Built out of red brick, its most distinctive feature was a trio of unusually tall doors, one of which was ajar.
“What is housed here?” Miss Hartley asked, but there was no sign posted to give them an answer, nor any trace of a beast in the paddock out front.
Her mother leaned over the railing, calling, “Hallooooo!”
Lindy barely curbed her urge to shush her.
“Please excuse Mamma,” Dora murmured. “At times, she simply cannot contain herself.”
The older woman’s cries continued, but still, nothing stirred.
“Well, it must be a rather dull creature,” she groused, “if it can’t be bothered to come outside to see us.”
“Their stable is a snug alternative to the paddock on days like today,” said a finely dressed woman who seemed to have appeared from nowhere. She looked up at the overcast skies. “Especially to those who were born for a much warmer climate.”
Lindy found the stranger’s forthrightness, as well as the fact that she was carrying two carrots, quite intriguing.
“And what exactly are they?” Dora asked.
“Perhaps you would like to see for yourselves,” came the woman’s reply, a glint of mischief in her smile. “But first, allow me to introduce myself. I am Sophia Raffles – a fellow here at the Zoological Society.”
What? Belinda was certain she had misheard as she murmured her own name in response. Women cannot belong to scientific societies!
She studied the woman carefully. Likely pretty and delicate once, there were lines of hard-living etched into her face. Her hooded eyes were widely set, and her mouth and chin had a narrowness to them that made her look a bit hawkish, though it did not dampen the warm kindness that Lindy detected.
“Please, follow me,” their new acquaintance said, then started off towards the stable. When she glanced back and saw them all rooted in place, she urged, “Oh, come along — never allow fear to hold you back!”
This got the party’s feet moving. When they reached the door, it was swung open from the inside by a man with a muck rake in his hand.
“Ah mornin’, Lady Raffles!” he said, cheerfully. “I shoulda known you’d be ‘ere any moment!”
“Good morning, Tom.”
She’s a societal fellow as well as a lady? Belinda couldn’t help but press Miss Hartley’s arm at the realization. Dora replied with a squeeze of her own.
“I’ll tend the pens later, so as not to bother you and yer friends.” The man leaned the rake against the wall and went off to busy himself elsewhere as the four women entered the building.