Keeping up Appearances CHAPTER 11.
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The driver was discharged, the girls brought home from school, and the music lessons suspended; but for all this, the purse of Mrs. Laurie grew lighter and lighter every day, and her heart, and the heart of Annetta, heavier and heavier. Mr. Lewis still kept coming and coming, now at shorter and again at longer intervals, his manners filling them with encouragement at one visit, and at the next depressing their hopes to zero. Certainly, the young man's conduct was a little unaccountable. The frequency and regularity of his visits indicated that his intentions were of a serious character; while his manners towards Annetta rarely went beyond what any lady might expect from a gentleman with whom she was well acquainted. What his real purpose was, in visiting at the house of Mrs. Laurie, could not be deduced clearly from mere appearances.
The hope deferred, that makes the heart sick, had still to be borne by Annetta, day after day, and week after week. This could not be without its paling her cheek and sinking her eye deeper in its socket. Mr. Lewis marked this, and it troubled him. A. word would have brought back the bloom to her cheek and the glad dancing light to her eye — why did he not utter that word? Yes! Why did he not utter it? That is the question. Why did he come and sit with her for hours, almost every week, and talk with her, in a cheerful pleasant way, of things near and more remote, in which she in vain tried to feel an interest — and yet not utter the one word that would have raised her heart from the great deep of despondency to the pinnacle of joy? Did he not know that his conduct was putting thorns in the pillow of that maiden, so that she could not sleep? What was he? A friend or a lover? What would the deeply suffering inhabitants of that richly attired — but cheerless mansion, not have given to know!
The days and weeks went by, and Mrs. Laurie's purse grew lighter and lighter. Six weeks of the new quarter had elapsed.
"We shall have to part with something else, Annetta," said the mother, as they sat musing one day in silence over the fearful uncertainty that surrounded them. "I have but two pounds left."
Annetta looked sadly into her mother's face — but did not reply.
"I have thought that we could spare our gold watches, chains, and pencils very well. The watches cost each twenty-five pounds, and the chains and pencils something over twenty pounds. They are nearly new, and ought to bring a very good price."
"If an honest purchaser could be found," said Annetta, in answer to this.
"We must not put them into the hands of that Jew, of course," returned Mrs. Laurie.
"To whom can we sell them? I am sure I do not know. Trust whom we will, that we dare offer them to, and we are liable to the same kind of treatment that we have received, and will probably not get over twenty pounds for what ought to bring forty-five pounds.
"All that is true enough," replied Mrs. Laurie. "Still something must be done. There is no looking back now. We must have money, or we can no longer keep up appearances; and there is only one way to get money, and that is by disposing of such articles as we have no need of keeping. These must be sold for the most that we can get for them."
"Will you not try to sell them, mother? My efforts turned out so badly, that I cannot bear the thought of going again on a similar errand," said Annetta.
"Indeed, my child, I cannot do it," returned Mrs. Laurie. "I haven't been to the street door for months, much less beyond it. You are younger and lighter, Annetta, and on you must fall this unpleasant task. I wish from my heart you could be spared; but I see no possible way by which it can be done."
"If I must, I suppose I must," said Annetta, gloomily. "I think, however, that it will be more prudent to try one of the watches first, and see what it will bring. If we suspect unfair dealing in regard to it, we can take the other, with the chains and pencils, somewhere else."
"You are, no doubt, right in that," replied the mother. "If we had adopted this course with our silverware, we would have received double what we actually obtained for it. Yes, try one watch first. The only danger is, the greater liability of having the errand you are on discovered by someone who will give it wings. The oftener you go out, the greater the risk that is run."
"I know that very well. When I went to receive the money for the silverware, Mr. Lewis saw me in the Bowery; and ten chances to one if he doesn't see me when I go out to sell the watches."
But talking over the matter did no good, and so Annetta said, rising up and making preparations for going out. With one of the gold watches, beautiful, fully jeweled, in her pocket, she started forth and again directed her steps to the Bowery. She dared not venture into any Broadway shop on such an errand, for fear of meeting a familiar face. After reaching the Bowery, she turned her steps down instead of up, and entered the first jewelry shop on her way. A man was standing behind the counter, who bowed to her politely as she came in. His face was rather more kind than that of the Jew, and showed him to be a different kind of person altogether. With some embarrassment in her manner, which she tried hard to overcome, Annetta drew forth the watch, and asked, in a low, hesitating voice, if he did not wish to purchase it.
"Our business is to sell watches, Miss, not buy them," said the man in a pleasant way.
"Then you do not wish to buy it?" she said.
"No, Miss," was the quiet answer.
Annetta slipped the watch into her pocket, drew her long dark veil quickly over her face, and retired from the shop. The man looked after her curiously for a moment, and then an expression of doubt and suspicion passed over his face.
"Something wrong there," he said to himself. "I might have bought that watch for a mere song, I suppose — but it would have cost me in the end, I am inclined to believe, a good deal more trouble than it is worth."
The answer which the jeweler gave to Annetta discouraged her completely. The fact that men keep shops to sell, not buy goods, had not before occurred to her, self-evident as it was, because she had never had occasion to think upon the subject. To offer a watch for sale, therefore, to a watchmaker and jeweler, she clearly saw to be a very unusual proceeding, not likely to be attended with much success, even if it did not subject her to unjust suspicion.
In this state of mind she walked on, passing street after street, and not finding courage enough to enter any one of the various shops she passed, where articles such as the one she had in her pocket were displayed in the windows. The widening of the street at Chatham Square reminded her that she was going far out of the way, without effecting the object for which she had come out. A thought of the disappointment her mother would feel if she were to return without either effecting a sale or getting some offer for the watch, made her determine to conquer the reluctance she felt, and venture into another shop in the hope of meeting with better success than attended her first effort.
In returning up the Bowery, after having walked the distance of a few streets, she saw a little before her a window filled with watches, and as she drew nearer, read upon a small sign beside the door, "New and Old Gold and Silver Watches Bought and Sold." She was about entering this shop, when the voices of men within caused her to turn quickly away and move on again. Another shop, without, however, the inviting sign which she had just read, soon came in view, the window exhibiting rich array of jewelry, watches, and silverware. With a desperate resolution, Annetta, after half pausing, in order to see if there were any customers inside, forced herself to enter this shop. Her observation had not been very accurate, for she found, after she had entered, that there were a gentleman and lady within, making some purchases. A clerk was attending to them, and a man, who seemed to be the owner of the shop, arose from a bench at the window where he was at work upon a watch, and stood up beside the counter to attend to her. Annetta glanced half around at the lady and gentleman on the other side of the shop, and then asked to look at some silver thimbles. A small box, containing a dozen or two of the articles for which she had inquired, was placed on the glass show case before her, and she fitted herself with a thimble. While receiving change from a five shilling piece which she had given in payment, she said, in a low voice, as if making a casual inquiry,
"Do you ever purchase watches or articles of jewelry that have been slightly used?"
"Sometimes we do, ma'am," replied the man.
"A young friend, whose circumstances have become changed, has a handsome gold watch that she wishes to sell," said Annetta, the unsteadiness of her voice as she spoke, betraying the personal interest she felt in the matter. "I promised that I would make an effort to sell it for her."
"Did you bring it with you?" asked the watchmaker.
Annetta drew forth the watch from her pocket and laid it upon the show case. The man took it up, opened it, and carefully examined it throughout.
"How much does your friend ask for it?" he inquired.
"She did not set any price. It cost twenty-five pounds."
"I would like to sell a dozen or two just like it for sixteen pounds," returned the man, taking from his case two or three watches, and opening and displaying their works to Annetta, whose inexperienced eyes could see no difference between the beauty and excellence of these, and the one she owned.
"These are precisely like your friend's watch," said the man. "And all we ask for them is sixteen pounds. I presume this was purchased in Broadway."
"No, sir; it was bought in London by my fa . . . — by the father of my young friend, before he died, and brought home as a birthday present. I think she told me that it was purchased from a celebrated manufacturer there, named — let me see — what was his name?"
"Tobias," said the man.
"Oh yes, that was the name."
"And these are all Tobias watches, and just as good as the one bought by the young lady's father."
"How much do you think it worth?" asked Annetta.
"I hardly know. I wouldn't be willing to pay over twelve pounds for it."
"My friend expects to receive more than that," said Annetta; the words, "Twelve pounds," sounding like a knell in her ear.
"I could not sell it for over fourteen pounds, at most, and would not, therefore, be willing to give over twelve for it."
"If I should meet with no better offer, I may, perhaps, see you again," said Annetta, returning the watch to her pocket. "Her sister has one just like it that she talks of selling."
"Bought in London?" inquired the watchmaker.
"Yes. They were both purchased at the same time."
"At the same price?"
"Yes, sir. And with both were purchased elegant gold chains."
"Are they for sale, also?"
"I believe so. That is, if anything like a fair price can be had for them."
The man stood musing for some moments, and then said, slowly, as if half in doubt:
"I don't know. Perhaps I might be willing to pay thirteen pounds apiece for the watches. At any rate, I will think about it. If you conclude to sell them at this price, you can give me a call; and you may bring the chains along; perhaps we may be able to strike a bargain for them also."
But little encouraged by this offer of about half the price originally paid for the watches, Annetta left the shop, determined to try what could be done a little farther down, at the place where she had been deterred from entering by the sound of men's voices from within. This shop she was glad to find free from customers. The occupant was a young man, with a Jewish face. He stared fixedly at her as she came up to the counter, at the same time bowing in a rude, half-familiar way. Annetta hardly knew whether to offer him the watch or not; for there was something about him exceedingly repulsive to her. Nor was the appearance of things in the shop, in which there was a strong odor of cigar smoke, very attractive.
"What can I sell you today, Miss," said the young man, seeing that she hesitated about declaring the object of her visit.
"I see, by your sign, that you purchase gold watches," she replied, thinking it best to make an effort to effect a sale, as long as she was in the shop.
"We do, Miss," was briefly answered. "I have one that I wish to sell."
"Will you let me see it, Miss?" Annetta produced the watch; not with much alacrity, however, for she felt no hope of making a sale there at anything above the offer she had already received. The young man took it from her hand and examined it with much attention.
"Full jeweled, I see," he remarked, "What did this watch cost?"
"Twenty-five pounds," replied Annetta.
"Is it yours?" asked the young man, looking steadily at her.
Annetta drew her veil over her face, as she replied,
"I have it to sell, sir. Do you wish to purchase?"
"That will depend pretty much upon the price that is set upon it. How much do you want for it?"
"It ought to bring me sixteen or eighteen pounds."
The man compressed his lips tightly, and shook his head.
"I might give eight for it," he said, indifferently.
Annetta reached out for the watch — but the young man still retained it in his hands, and rather drew it towards him.
"Let me have the watch, if you please. I cannot sell it for any such price."
"Perhaps I might give a little more for it," remarked the young man, still keeping the watch in his possession.
"Not as much as I wish to receive for it, I presume. I have already refused the offer of thirteen pounds."
The man shook his head incredulously, replying, as he did so, in a rude manner,
"Nobody would be fool enough to give that for it."
"Let me have the watch, if you please," said Annetta, in a firm voice, her cheek reddening with indignation at the young man's insulting manner.
"I think you said it was your watch," remarked the keeper of the shop, looking earnestly at Annetta, and trying to read her countenance through the thick veil that covered it; but without restoring the article he named to its owner.
"I don't know that I said so. But we will have no more words about it. If you will pay me sixteen pounds for the watch, you can have it; if not, please return it to me."
"You needn't be so huffy about it," returned the man, coarsely. "We never buy an article like this without knowing all about it. If it is really yours, and come fairly by — pardon my plainness of speech! — I might be tempted to give you a little more than my first offer; say ten pounds. Of course, I understand all about your having had an offer of thirteen pounds — mere romance, of course! I am used to such things — can't deceive me — old hand."
Annetta trembled from head to foot with alarm and indignation.
"Give me the watch, sir!" she said, with much agitation.
The man stepped a few paces back, and pulled a bell-rope. In a moment or two, a smart looking lad entered. To him he gave some directions in a low tone, now and then glancing toward Annetta, the boy's eyes at the same time following the direction of his. A single word of the communication that passed between them reached the young lady's ears, and caused every nerve to quiver. It was the word "Police."
"Be quick!" said the man, as the lad moved towards the door.
"Let me have my watch, sir!" Annetta spoke in a husky voice.
"Don't be so impatient, Miss; I am sure we can strike a bargain. I don't know but I might be tempted to offer you ten pounds. It's the full worth of it; but then it's a very fair article."
Annetta turned away, and was moving towards the door, when the man called after her and said,
"What are you going for? Here?"
Annetta came back to the counter.
"Will you return me my watch, sir?" she said. "Say in a word, 'yes,' or 'no.'"
Just then the lad came back, panting as if he had been running at the height of his speed.
"A single word of the communication that passed between them reached the young lady's ears, and caused every nerve to quiver."
"He'll be here in a moment, sir," he said.
"Very well," returned the man.
"Police." "Here in a moment." These words thrilled through every nerve of the frightened Annetta. She clearly understood the whole matter. Without a word more she hurried from the shop, and ran for the distance of at least two streets, until she was so exhausted that she could continue this speed no longer. Then she walked as rapidly as possible the remainder of the distance home.
Anxiously had Mrs. Laurie awaited the return of her daughter. The time that she was away seemed very long to her. At last she heard the bell ring; and shortly afterwards the street door shut. Then there was the sound of hurrying feet along the hall and up the stairs. In a moment after, Annetta entered the chamber where she sat, with a pale face and quivering lips.
"What is the matter, my child?" asked Mrs. Laurie in an anxious voice.
Annetta tried to speak — but was unable to utter a syllable.
"Couldn't you sell the watch? What ails you, dear?"
Annetta sank down by her mother, and burying her face in her lap, sobbed violently — almost hysterically. It was fully five minutes before she was sufficiently composed to tell of the poor success and final mishap that had attended her efforts to find a purchaser for the watch.
"Mercy!" exclaimed Mrs. Laurie, raising her hands and turning pale, when the word "Police" was mentioned. And when her daughter related how she had retreated with haste on the returning of the lad with the news that the officer would be there in a moment, the mother ejaculated, "What an escape!" with a full realization of the fearful peril that had been undergone.
It needed no suggestions of one to the other to bring into a clearer light the danger that had been encountered. The arrest of Annetta, and her examination at the Police Office as to her property in the watch she was offering for sale, would have effectually blasted all their fondly cherished hopes, to say nothing of the dreadful exposure such an event would have occasioned. The very thought of it almost paralyzed the unhappy mother, and her no less miserable child. Of course, the watch was given up for lost. No attempt to recover it could be made without exposing to someone their great extremity, and consequent false position. This would be running too much risk.
Three days passed without a word more being said about selling the other watch and the gold chains. It was a subject to which neither felt the heart to allude, although it rested almost constantly upon the minds of both, and with it, the conviction that it must be done. On the evening of the third day, Mr. Lewis made one of his visits. His manner revived considerably the drooping hopes of Annetta. Before leaving, he invited her to accompany him, on the next evening, to a concert. This made the necessity for striving to keep up appearances a little longer, still more imperative; at least so it was felt by Mrs. Laurie and her daughter. After holding a consultation on the subject, it was determined that Annetta should wear the remaining gold watch and one of the chains with her diamond breastpin, to the concert, and on the day after take them to the man who had offered thirteen pounds for the watch, and sell the whole for the most he would give for them.
Annetta went to the concert. It was her first appearance at any public place, except church, since the death of her father. Mr. Lewis paid her very particular attentions, and from some things he said on their way home, as well as from his manner and peculiar tone of voice, she more than half expected a declaration of love. In order to make way for this, she talked as little as possible, merely showing by her remarks that she was pleased with and assented to all he said. But the anxiously desired and long looked for announcement, did not come. Mr. Lewis parted from her at the door with a tenderly uttered "Goodnight." This was something at least. Something upon which hope might keep alive for awhile longer.
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