CHAPTER XII.

A few weeks after the events related in the last chapter, as Mrs. Battleby was helping her wretched drudge to wash up the miscellaneous assortment of plates, dishes, cups, saucers and tumblers, sent down by her various lodgers, and harrying the girl’s soul out, by constant adjurations to make more haste, she was startled by the sound of a loud double knock on the front door.

“Now! ’oo on hearth can that be calling at this time o’ night?” she exclaimed testily, as she wiped her hands on her canvas apron. “’Ere, ’Liza, ’and me over that clean apron _do_, and don’t stand gaping at me there! I declare, you put me ever so much in mind of that great, hulking fool, Hannah Stubbs, which I’ve never forgiven ’er mother to this day for putting her upon me! It might be some one arter the hattics, for I’ve known ’em to come, when pressed, as late as ten o’clock at night. Now! go on with your washing-up, and don’t be a’follerin’ me to hear what they may say, for it’s no concern of yourn any way.”

Saying which, Mrs. Battleby left the lower regions and ascended to answer the hall door.

It was a dark night, and all she could distinguish at first was, that a female figure stood on the door steps.

“Who do you please to want, Ma’am?” she inquired.

“Is Mrs. Battleby at home?” asked the stranger, in her turn.

“Yes! Ma’am, I be Mrs. Battleby, but if it’s rooms as you want, I’ve none to let but the hattics, which was occupied last by a gentleman of very high degree!”

“Lor! Mrs. Battleby! I don’t believe you know me!” exclaimed the visitor, as she pushed her way into the passage, and leant up against the wall, laughing.

“Why, it’s never!--No! it can’t never be--_Hannah Stubbs!_” cried Mrs. Battleby, too much astounded to be angry at being taken in.

“Yes! it is,” replied Hannah, still laughing, “but I ain’t Hannah Stubbs no longer, Mrs. Battleby! I’m a married lady now, and able to hold my own with anybody. But ain’t you a’going to arsk me to take a chair? Ain’t the parlours vacant? Can’t we go in there?”

“The parlours!” repeated the landlady, with a sneer. “Well! I wonder what we’re coming to, next! I should ’ave thought as the kitchen was good enough for you, Hannah Stubbs, though you _be_ married!”

“Well! then, let me tell you, Mrs. Battleby as it ain’t! And I’ll thank you not to call me out of my name. I’m married to a nobleman, and I’ll stick up for my rights. ‘My lady’ is the proper way for you to address me, Mrs. Battleby! I’m a Markiness!”

“A _what!_” exclaimed Mrs. Battleby, as she pushed her visitor into the back parlour, which lacked an inmate. “Are you mocking me, Hannah, or ’ave you gone clean off your chump? A markiness! You must be daft! They belongs to the highest of the haristocracy. What ’ave you been a’doing of, since you left this ’ouse?”

As she lighted the gas, and was enabled to have a good look at her late slavey, the landlady perceived there was a great difference in her appearance. Hannah wore the famous apple-green merino, with a silk mantle over it--a small black bonnet, crowned with scarlet poppies, and a pair of brown silk gloves. Altogether, though she did not look like a marchioness, she had the appearance of a very respectable servant.

“And now do tell me the rights of all this, for you’ve took my breath away,” said Mrs. Battleby. “What’s become of the poor Professor, and his friend the Doctor, and ’ave you left them for good, and where are you living now?”

She pushed Hannah into a chair and took one opposite herself, so eager was she to learn how this wonderful transformation scene had come about.

The Marchesa di Sorrento was wonderfully self-possessed. She drew off her silk gloves and folded them neatly on her lap--placed her umbrella in a safe position--and settled herself down for a good talk.

“I have not left the Sig-nor at all, Mrs. Battleby,” she commenced; “we’ve been married for a long time now, and our ’ouse is at ’Ampstead.”

“The Sig-nor has _married_ you!” exclaimed the landlady, gasping in her surprise. “Why! I allays thought as ’e was a real gentleman! Actually _married_ you! Well! wonders never cease!”

“A real gentleman,” cried Hannah, sharply, “I should think he was--a better gentleman than you’ll ever ’ave in your attics agen, Mrs. Battleby. He’s more than a gentleman, a good deal! He’s a real Markiss! What do you think of that! The Markiss dee Sorrento! And I’m a Markiness! The Markiness dee Sorrento! And that’s why you’ll ’ave to call me ‘my lady’ if ever you speaks to me agen, Mrs. Battleby.”

“I don’t believe as I could ever find it on my tongue to do it, Hannah--not if you was to give me a ’undred pounds,” said the landlady, as she sank back in her chair with surprise.

“Are you satisfied I speak the truth,” asked Hannah, presently, “or must I bring the Markiss here to tell you so, himself? He was always a Markiss, of course, but he didn’t choose to let on to you about it. But as soon as we was married, he told me the truth! It was a fine surprise for me, as you may be sure, but I’m quite accustomed to it now.”

“And he actually married you--that quiet old gentleman! Well! if you’d told me marriage was in his line, I’d ’ave said you was quite mistook. And the Doctor--what did ’e say to it, eh, Hannah?--I mean--my lady!”

“You don’t go to suppose as we asked the Doctor’s leave, or anybody else’s?” replied the Markiness, with a fine scorn; “the Markiss was old enough to know his own mind, I s’pose! And the Doctor ain’t a doctor any longer either! He’s a Baron--the Baron von Steinberg, and ’as come into a big fortune of thousands and thousands of pounds a year.”

“O! you don’t go to tell me as the Doctor’s a haristocrat, too?” cried Mrs. Battleby, who felt as if all her old acquaintances had suddenly drifted from her into realms above. “’E who was such a nice-speaking young gentleman! A Baron! Well! I never! And money into the bargain! No wonder as they both left the hattics!”

“The Baron ’as a lovely ’ouse in Portland Place,” continued Hannah, “the most beautiful ’ouse as you ever see--all statues and pictures and flowering plants. You can’t ’ear your feet in ’is carpets, and ’e keeps ten or twelve servants. He’s rolling in riches, is the Baron.”

“My!” gasped Mrs. Battleby, too exhausted by astonishment to be able to say any more.

“And you, my dear,” she resumed, after a pause, “’ow do you git on with the cooking and that? The Sig-nor, ’e wasn’t very particular, but if I remembers rightly, you didn’t know nothink of cooking, or of much else when you fust come to me--did you?”

“No! nor now either,” responded Hannah, with her grandest air, “I ’ave no call to do anything of the sort. My servant does all that for me!”

“_Your servant!_ Lor! and you keep a servant!” echoed the landlady. “I never! But in coorse the Sig-nor, being a Markiss, would now, wouldn’t ’e? And ’ave you told all this to your pore mother and father, who ’ave been sadly about you, ever since you runned away from me!”

“No! Mrs. Battleby, and don’t mean to, neither! You don’t suppose as the Markiss would let such people as my mother and father come about the ’ouse! It would bemean his rank! They carst me off and they must keep to theirselves--as well as that ill-mannered young man Joseph Brushwood! I wouldn’t stop to speak to ’em, not if I met ’em in the road.”

“Well! Hannah, you ’ave grown ’igh,” replied the other, “but I ’opes as you’ve given up all them sperrits and devils and things as beset you ’ere. The Markiss won’t allow them about ’im, I expect!”

“You only says that because you’re so ignorant, Mrs. Battleby,” said the Markiness, tossing her head; “those who know about the matter says they’re Science, and all the aristocracy are running after them like mad! They call them ‘angels’ not ‘devils’, and they _do_ say,” continued the girl, lowering her voice, and bending towards the landlady, “that Royalty’s crazy about it, too, and that if I chose to go to the Palace and show ’em what I can do, that I should be made a duchess in my own right!”

“O! Hannah--my lady--don’t you go for to do it!” cried Mrs. Battleby, “for what’s the good of being a duchess, if the Devil ’as got hold of you! Better remain as you are--a plain markiness! O! I ’ad ’oped as you’d given it all up and lived quiet and sober, like a married woman should!”

“O! that would never do!” replied Hannah, “Why! do you know, Mrs. Battleby, as it’s the best thing I’ve got! The Baron says I’m the grandest medium in the land, and there ain’t another as can make the sperrits walk out so soon, and so nateral like! His friends is all mad to meet me, and I’m to go to ’is ’ouse next week, and sit for the Russian Ambassador, and the Duke of Standingstone, and two foreign Princes! Sometimes I wish I hadn’t been so quick to take the Markiss, for I should ’ave ’ad no end of chances, if I ’adn’t been a married lady!”

“Ah! well! I ’opes it will all end satisfactory,” sighed Mrs. Battleby, “but it don’t seem right to me! Sperrits is sperrits all the world over, which we’re told not to meddle with in holy Scriptur, and I should never be surprised to ’ear as they’d taken you away with ’orns and a tail and a smell of brimstone!”

“I ain’t afeared of that!” said Hannah, “the sperrits are more afraid of me than I am of them!”

“Of _you_--who used to shriek if you saw ’em!” replied her companion, incredulously.

“I know! but they says as use is second natur. Anyways, I don’t mind ’em one pin now! The Doctor says they ’ave seen the most wonderfullest things through me--his dead patients and others--and that if anythink ’appened to the Markiss, my mediumship would be worth its weight in gold. So I’m not going to throw it away--you bet!”

“O! well! and I’m not the one to blame yer. We must all look arter ourselves in this world. But ’ow improved you are in your speaking, my dear! ’Ave you been to school since the Sig-nor married you?”

“Am I improved?” demanded Hannah, with a look of surprise; “I don’t see any difference myself! P’r’aps it’s talking so much with my ’usband--not that the Markiss is a great talker, but still I don’t hear anyone else.”

“You are altered in many ways,” continued the landlady, thoughtfully, “you’ve lost the scared look you used to ’ave on your face, and the dull look too, I may say, for we never considered you over-bright, you know, Hannah! But now--I ain’t good at describing--but you seem to me to have wakened up, as if you’d seen a lot of the world and its ways. And it’s improved you, Hannah--wonderful!”

“I’m glad of that,” replied the markiness, “for now that I am a lady, I has to speak like one. Well! I’ll say good-night to you now, Mrs. Battleby, for I must be going ’ome! But I thought, as you’d known the Markiss for so long, you’d like to hear the news, and that we’re all so ’appy together!”

Hannah had risen to go, but Mrs. Battleby detained her for a moment.

“You ’aven’t told me nothing of the Sig-nor’s ’ealth,” she said; “’as ’e got rid of them dreadful fainty attacks as used to take ’im sometimes, when ’e lived with me?”

“No! not quite! He had one yesterday. The Baron says it’s ’is ’eart, and that ’e’s ’ad it a long time. But all we ’ave to do is to be careful, and ’e’ll last as long as any.”

“And may I come up and see you some day, Hannah--my lady?” inquired the landlady. “I should like to ’ave a look at the Sig-nor, I must say.”

The Markiness dee Sorrento hesitated.

“I s’pose I must say ‘yes’, Mrs. Battleby, because of old times, but you must please not to call me ‘Hannah’ before my servant, or she may think it disrespectful. I ’ope you understand the motive!”

“O! yes, my lady--certainly, my lady!” replied Mrs. Battleby, as she curtsied the newly-made peeress out at the hall door, and retreated to the kitchen again, to try and solve the marvellous riddle which had been presented to her.

Meanwhile the marchioness took an omnibus back to Hampstead, where she found Karl von Steinberg, who had been home about a week, in close conversation with her husband.

“I am trying to combat Ricardo’s objection to your giving my friends a séance next week, Hannah!” he said, as she appeared, “but he is very obstinate! He seems to imagine that if your powers are made public, they will deteriorate in some way. I--on the contrary--think they will improve with practice, always provided that we see you are not overtaxed. And _I_ shall be present to prevent that! I have not given up being a doctor, at all events for the benefit of my friends, though I have become a Baron!”

“Of course not!” replied Hannah, “and I’ve told the Markiss so a hundred times! Haven’t the sperrits said the same thing? They’re more likely to desert me, if I disobey their orders. Don’t waste no more time over the Markiss, Baron! I’m going to give your friends that séance next week, and as many more as you choose--so there’s an end of the matter!”

“But we must follow your husband’s wishes in this respect, Hannah,” said Von Steinberg. “I should not enjoy the séance, for one, if he disapproved of your giving it! He will never shut me out from your home sittings, I am sure, and if he is determined, my friends must go without it, or get another medium to sit for them!”

“And where will they find another like me?” replied Hannah, with that strange look in her eyes--half sensual and half cunning--which he had noticed before his departure for Germany. “You know yourself there is not such another in the country! No! I shall sit at your house next week, whatever any one says. Besides, if I do not, Leonora will not come again, and how will you like that, Markiss?”

“Did she tell you so?” cried Ricardo, in alarm.

“Indeed, she did! She says my gift was given me for the good of humanity and not merely to gratify your selfish wish to see her again.”

“O! I will not--I will not--be selfish then,” exclaimed the poor Professor. “Von Steinberg, she is right! This wonderful gift was never intended to be hidden under a bushel! I give my consent to her using it for the benefit of mankind. But--if you will forgive me--I will remain at home! I could not bear to see my Leonora disporting her lovely form for strangers to gaze at. No! let Hannah wait upon your friends, and I will stay here until my Angel deigns to come to me again.”

“But why should Leonora appear at all in my house, Ricardo?” remonstrated his friend, “if you do not care to attend the séance, you can at least bring your wife to my house and take her home.”

“No! no! I would rather that she went alone!” persisted the Professor.

“O! let him be!” cried Hannah, impatiently, “if the markiss has got a crotchet in his head, it’ll take more than you and me to dig it out again. It’ll be his own loss--not ours!”

At this Ricardo rose, and, without another word, walked up stairs to his own room.

“You are wrong, Hannah,” remarked Von Steinberg, “you have no right to speak before your husband like that! You should be doubly forbearing towards him just now, for I don’t think he is well.”

“What’s the matter with him?” asked the girl.

“His heart is weaker than usual, and he has other disorders which complicate it. I think your determination to assume his title has worried him more than you imagine. It rouses unpleasant memories in him, and keeps the Past always before his eyes. Besides, it is not yours to use! It was confiscated years ago by the Italian Government, and does not belong to Ricardo himself any longer!”

“O! that’s rubbish!” cried Hannah, “it wasn’t lawful of them to take it away, and so it’s his still! Besides, what ’arm does it do to anybody, my calling myself a markiness? It’s little enough I got by marrying ’im, I’m sure! He needn’t grudge me that!”

“You got an honest, brave, honourable gentleman, Hannah, which is a thing to be proud of!”

“But it won’t do me ’alf the good that being called ‘my lady’ will, all the same,” replied Hannah, with one of her cunning looks. “I mean to make my way in the world, Baron, for he won’t leave me much butter for my bread, and it’s the only crutch I’ve got to walk with! It’ll go down better than money with ’alf the fools I meet.”

“I think you’re a very clever woman,” said Von Steinberg, regarding her with admiration. “I had no idea when I first saw you, that you had such a quick wit and brain. And you are improving fast in your manner of talking! If it were not for dropping an _h_ now and then, when you get excited, you might really hold your own with many a lady in the land!”

“I mean to, too, you bet!” said Hannah. “I ain’t--I mean, I haven’t--married an old man for nothing! I’ve got something to set against his age, eh, Doctor? And if you’ll stand my friend, and introduce me to some of the big people at your séances, you see if my ‘wonderful gift’ (as you call it) won’t land me some day in unexpected places.”

“By Jove! I believe you’re sharp enough for anything,” exclaimed Von Steinberg, “and if I can help you, I will! But it must be with Ricardo’s consent.”

“Didn’t you hear him give it? He’d sell me to the Devil, if it would bring his Leonora to him! He doesn’t care a hang about me! He only cares for her!”

“You mustn’t say that!” replied Von Steinberg, though he believed it to be true.

“And I’ll tell you a secret, Doctor! I don’t believe that Leonora will come to him much longer, either! She’s pretty well sick of being prayed and slobbered over, and called an angel! She wasn’t an angel--not by no manner of means--and it wearies her! She liked life, did Leonora--domestic happiness wasn’t in her line at all.”

“I believe you are correct there,” replied the Doctor.

“And can’t you see how sitting by himself, night after night, is drawing all the strength out of the Markiss. It doesn’t signify about _my_ strength--he has never thought about that--so long as he can see Leonora--but it’ll chaw him up before long, if he don’t look out. It’ll be for his good to take me away a bit--mark my words!”

“By Jove! you’re right again,” replied her companion, “and it is wonderful I did not perceive the danger to him before! You’ve done Ricardo a great benefit by your astuteness, my dear, and I shall not fail to tell him so! But you are sure you have not hurt yourself! You do not feel at all weak, or ill--not as if a tonic, or stimulant of any kind, would do you good?”

“O! no! Doctor, I’m all right, thank you,” said Hannah, smiling at the anxiety depicted in his face; “only you get me to your fine house and it’ll do me all the good in the world!”

“I am delighted to think that you are coming,” said Von Steinberg, “and, Hannah, at this or any time, remember that anything I may have, or can procure, is at your service! I can never sufficiently thank you for the grand insight you have given me, through your mediumship, to the truth of Immortality, and anything I could do for you in return I should esteem a great favour!

“And now one word of advice, my dear girl, which I know you are too sensible to resent. Try to correct the few errors of grammar which you still retain, and the sooner will you gain admittance into the houses you aspire to be invited to, on an equal footing with their owners.”

Hannah stood, for a moment, as if dumbfoundered.

“I don’t get on as fast as I should, do I?” she said at length. “It seems queer, but there’s something in my tongue as won’t sound some words. I s’pose it’s all habit, and I haven’t much opportunity for improving myself now!”

“How’s that?”

“Why, the markiss has gone dumb! ’E never opens ’is mouth ’ardly from morning till night! ’Ow is a girl to learn anything from him? I can read a little, you know, Doctor, but not enough to improve myself, and I carn’t go back to school, now I’m a markiness!”

“No! you’re too old for that! Well! we must see what we can do together, Hannah, you and I! Your husband is out almost all day, so I could come over here sometimes, and give you a lesson in conversation, that is, if you really wish to learn.”

“I’d like to learn Italian with you,” said Hannah, softly.

Von Steinberg stared.

“Italian, my dear! What are you talking of? I think we had better get on with a little English first! When shall it be? Shall I come up to-morrow morning and begin our studies?”

Hannah approached him, and laid her hand gently on his arm.

“I shall like to learn with you!” she said, softly, in the same voice she had used a moment before. “You are good. I feel it! I shall love you for your kindness to me.”

Karl von Steinberg started away from her, as if he had been stung.

What was the expression in her face, which had so improved its expression? Rough Hannah Stubbs seemed to have gone away, and a gentle-featured, alluring woman to have stepped into her place. Her eyes, always beautiful, glowed with gratitude and sensibility--her touch was tender--her smile had become plaintive and appealing.

The doctor shook off her grasp rather rudely than otherwise, and, rising, declared it was time he returned home, and left the cottage without another word.