University of Virginia Library

5. CHAPTER V.

The sale of “Barclay's furniture” was the
subject of a good deal of conversation among
the circle in which they visited. Every body
seemed apprised of the fact, and the ladies
pretty generally gave Mrs. Barclay a call.
At this particular time, these interruptions
were sad annoyances. And, then, the questionings
and opinions which almost every
friend felt at liberty to give were very far
from producing a comfortable frame of mind
in Mrs. Barclay. There are people in this
world who support a sort of personal dignity
and can so diffuse their own self-esteem as to
awe or intimidate the curious from any minute
interrogations; but, unluckily, Hepsy Barclay
was not one of this number.

Scarcely would any of her particular friends
get fairly seated in the drawing-rooms, ere an
exclamation might be overheard something

like this: “What magnificent parlors these are
for a party! How can Mrs. Barclay bear to
vacate such a house! I wonder her husband
don't know better! She is foolish enough to
board! Surely she never will be contented,
let her go where she may!”

All the above remarks would transpire while
Mrs. Barclay was arranging her hair or dress,
previous to coming into the presence of her
acquaintances, for they were not all friends.
Sally, the nursery woman, was sure to be detained
long enough either in putting back a
stray chair or adjusting the folds of a curtain,
although she often made it look more awry;
but her object was to hear and fully report
to Fanny and Mrs. Barclay all she heard,
and sometimes what she did not hear. This
should serve as a hint to such ladies as are
prone to indulge in random remarks in the
houses of those they visit.

This nursery woman was a great injury to
Mrs. Barclay. Her practice was to take out
“little Fanny” for an airing every pleasant

morning; and, as she was acquainted with
some of Mrs. Barclay's friends, having long
been in the family, they often used to say to
her as they left Mrs. Barclay's house, “Sally,
you must come in, and bring little Fanny to
see my little girl or boy.” This invitation was
sure to be accepted, and sorry am I to record,
that, in many instances, Sally was really more
welcome than her mistress, as more information
concerning family affairs was divulged by
her. Since the advertisement of the sale,
“little Fanny” had taken an unusual number
of “airings,” and made sundry visits to the
little brothers and sisters, whose mothers did
not fail to make many inquiries as to the future
plans of Mr. and Mrs. Barclay. This eavesdropping
woman was sure to remark, “People
don't know all the troubles in a family unless
they live in it. Poor Mr. Barclay has a great
deal to endure. I know it is not becoming in
me to expose the secrets of a family, but we
have strange work at our house sometimes.”
Perhaps the ear into which these words were
uttered would not be fully satiated until some
farther revelation was made, and this was an
easy matter to obtain by simply saying, “You
need not fear I shall ever quote your remarks,
Sally.” In this way, not only Mrs. Barclay
had suffered, but many other unsuspecting
families. The children often get an “airing”
at the expense of their mother's characters!

But it is time we look in upon Mrs. Barclay
and her cousin. As we remarked, they were
every morning filled with company; but from
no one could any information respecting “a
good boarding place” be derived, save old Miss
Widdifield, a maiden lady, who had boarded
some thirty years, and had by this time,
as she shrewdly observed, “learned how to
live.” She informed our friends of a splendid
establishment, of which they had never heard.
It was kept by Mrs. Bates, widow of the late
Lieutenant Bates in the United States service.
This lady had vacant rooms—plenty of them;
and, continued Miss Widdifield, as she thumped
on her silver snuffbox, preparatory to the

information she was about to give, “Mind ye,
Mrs. Barclay, I don't recommend this house,
for I know nothing for or against it. I only
know it is very pleasantly situated, right opposite
to me; and yesterday there was a great
moving out there. Miss Johnson, my landlady,
says they have a great deal of this `moving
out business' going on there. We reckon
they charge too high, and perhaps don't keep
so good a table; but, then, our surmises are
nothing; for you know, Mrs. Barclay, these
boarding-house women sometimes say more
about one another than they raly know.”

“At any rate,” said Fanny, turning to
Mrs. Barclay, “we can go and see for ourselves.”

“Well, my dears,” continued old Miss Widdifield,
“why won't you go over now with me;
for I should like despert well to see how they
do look inside. You know it is a kind of satisfaction
to a lone woman, who sits all day looking
straight across the street, to know how
they look behind the curtains; for, bless me,

they never raise a curtain there, only when
the man sweeps the parlors.”

“But you think, Miss Widdifield, it is a
`genteel house?”' inquired Mrs. Barclay.

“Bless you, child, yes! I am afraid there
is too much fashion; more fashion than food,
Miss Johnson says; but, la! as I said before,
she is a woman that is dreadful apt to
talk.”

In the midst of this conversation Mr. and
Mrs. Bond were announced. Old Miss Widdifield
put up her snuffbox, tightened her light
sable tippet, and spoke a low word to Mrs.
Barclay, to go over in the afternoon, and “be
sure and call for her;” all of which was immediately
agreed upon.

The arrival of Mr. and Mrs. Bond, who, although
they had lived within speaking distance
ever since Mrs. Barclay had inhabited
her new house, yet had never called, put her
curiosity to the test. She was evidently much
disconcerted; but Mr. Bond soon put her at
ease, by remarking he had conversed with Mr.

Barclay since the advertisement of his furniture,
and finding he was about surrendering
his house, he had asked permission of him to
look over it a little; and, if she had no objection,
he would do so.

Mrs. Barclay now felt irritated that her husband
had said nothing to her upon the subject;
however, like a prudent woman, she suppressed
the above fact, and simply inquired of
them if they thought of renting it, and resuming
housekeeping. An affirmative answer being
given, and the premises having been duly
examined and admired by Mrs. Bond, together
with repeated exclamations concerning the
“spacious closets,” the “chambers connecting
with one another,” the “bathing-room,” and
the “fine prospect from the cupola,” she could
not close her visit without wondering how
Mrs. Barclay could think of giving up so fine
an establishment and go to board.

“Hush! my dear,” said Mr. Bond; “by the
time you assume Mrs. Barclay's cares you
may sing a different song.”

“And thereby lose your health, Mr. Bond,
you may add,” said Mrs. Barclay.

“I understand it all,” said Bond, significantly.

And so he did; for Barclay and Bond had
talked confidentially more than an hour that
very morning.

After Mr. and Mrs. Bond had left, Fanny
and Mrs. Barclay adjourned to the nursery,
and, in the presence of Sally, began to reflect
upon Mr. Barclay's conduct in not giving them
information, which he must have known, viz.,
that Bond and his wife were desirous of hiring
the house.

“And I think,” interrupted Fanny, “a part,
or all the furniture, too; for did you notice
how very observing they were; how intently
they looked upon the drawing-room carpets,
and the girandoles, and curtains? and then,
when she would touch him, thinking I did not
see, he would nod; and once I heard him say,
`Don't make any remarks, my dear!' That,”
said Fanny, shrewdly, “was, I suppose, because
he hoped to get the articles cheap.”

“I don't care for that, Fanny,” said Mrs.
Barclay; “if I can but get as good a boarding-place
as they leave, they may have my furniture
and take my cares; and didn't you notice,
cousin, Mr. Bond's remark: `When you
have assumed all Mrs. Barclay's cares, wife,
you may sing a different song?”'

“I did,” said Fanny; “but, Hepsy, I did not
like it; it seemed to me he spoke ironically.”

“I don't think so,” sighed Mrs. Barclay.

In the midst of this conversation Mr. Barclay
entered.