The Baroness did not like to be called “Madame” according to the French
fashion. She thought it derogated from her dignity. She wished everyone
to address her as “my lady,” and considered she was cheated out of her
rights when it was omitted. But she liked chocolate almost as well as
Harriet did. “Thank you! I’ll ’ave a few!” she said, grabbing about a dozen in
her huge hand at the first venture. “What a liking for candies the
Amurricans seem to ’ave introduced into England! I can remember the
time when you never saw such a thing as sweets in the palace--I
don’t think they were allowed--and now they’re all over the place. I
shouldn’t wonder if Her Majesty hasn’t a box or two in her private
apartments, and as for the Princesses, well!--”

“The Palace!--Her Majesty!”--echoed Miss Brandt, opening her dark eyes
very wide. “As I tell ’em,” continued the Baroness, “they won’t ’ave a tooth left
amongst the lot of ’em soon! What are you staring at?”

“But--but--do you go to the Queen’s palace?” demanded Harriet,
incredulously, as well she might. “Not unless I’m sent for, you may take your oath! I ain’t fond enough
of ’em for all that; besides, Windsor’s ’orribly damp and don’t suit me
at all. But you mustn’t go and repeat what I tell you, in the Hotel. It
might give offence in high places if I was known to talk of it. You see
there’s some of ’em has never seen me since I married the Baron! Being
in trade, they thought ’e wasn’t good enough for me! I’ve ’eard that
when Lady Morton--the dowager Countess, you know--was asked if she ’ad
seen me lately, she called out loud enough for the whole room to ’ear,
‘Do you mean the woman that married the boot man? No! I ’aven’t seen
’er, and I don’t mean to either!’ Ha! ha! ha! But I can afford to laugh
at all that, my dear!”

“But--I don’t quite understand!” said Harriet Brandt, with a bewildered
look. “Why! the Baron deals in shoe-leather! ’Aven’t you ’eard it? I suppose
we’ve got the largest manufactory in Germany! Covers four acres of
ground, I give you my word!”

“Shoe-leather!” again ejaculated Harriet Brandt, not knowing what to
say. “Why, yes! of course all the aristocracy go in for trade now-a-days! It’s the fashion! There’s the Viscountess Gormsby keeps a bonnet-shop,
and Lord Charles Snowe ’as a bakery, and Lady Harrison ’as an old
curiosity-shop, and stands about it, dusting tables and chairs, all
day! But how can you know anything about it, just coming from the West
Indies, and all those ’orrid blacks! Ain’t you glad to find yourself
amongst Christians again?”

“This is the first time I ever left Jamaica,” said Miss Brandt, “I was
born there.”

“But you won’t die there, or I’m much mistaken! You’re too good to be
wasted on Jamaica! When are you going back to England?”

“Oh! I don’t know! I’ve hardly thought about it yet! Not while Mrs.
Pullen stays here, though!”

“Why! you’re not tied to ’er apron-string, surely! What’s she to you?”

“She is very kind, and I have no friends!” replied Miss Brandt. The Baroness burst into a coarse laugh. “You won’t want for friends, once you shew your face in England, I
can tell you. I’d like to ’ave you at our ’ouse, the Red ’Ouse, we
call it. Princess--but there, I mustn’t tell you ’er name or it’ll go
through the Hotel, and she says things to me that she never means to
go further--but she said the other day that she preferred the Red ’Ouse
to Windsor! And for comfort, and cheerfulness, so she may!”

“I suppose it is very beautiful then!” observed Harriet. “You must judge for yourself,” replied the Baroness, with a broad
smile, “when you come to London. You’ll be your own mistress there, I
suppose, and not so tied as you are here! I call it a shame to keep you
dancing attendance on that brat, when there’s a nurse whose business it
is to look after ’er!”

“O! but indeed it is my own wish!” said the girl, as she cuddled the
sleeping baby to her bosom, and laid her lips in a long kiss upon
its little mouth. “I asked leave to nurse her! She loves me and even
Nurse cannot get her off to sleep as I can! And it is so beautiful to
have something to love you, Madame Gobelli! In the Convent I felt so
cold--so lonely! If ever I took a liking to a girl, we were placed in
separate rooms! It is what I have longed for--to come out into the
world and find someone to be a friend, and to love me, only me, and all
for myself!”

Madame Gobelli laughed again. “Well! you’ve only got to shew those eyes of yours, to get plenty of
people to love you, and let you love them in return--that is, if the
men count in your estimation of what’s beautiful!”

Harriet raised her eyes and looked at the woman who addressed her! There was the innocence of Ignorance in them as yet, but the slumbering
fire in their depths proved of what her nature would be capable, when
it was given the opportunity to shew itself. Hers was a passionate
temperament, yearning to express itself--panting for the love which it
had never known--and ready to burst forth like a tree into blossom,
directly the sun of Desire and Reciprocity shone upon it. The elder
woman, who had not been without her little experiences in her day,
recognised the feeling at once, and thought that she would not give a
fig for the virtue of any man who was subjected to its influence. “I don’t think that you’ll confine your attentions to babies long!”
quoth the Baroness, as she encountered that glance. “How do you know?” said her young companion. “Ah! it’s enough that I _do_ know, my dear! I ’ave ways and means of
knowing things that I keep to myself! I ’ave friends about me too, who
can tell me everything--who can ’elp me, if I choose, to give Life and
Fortune to one person, and Trouble and Death to another--and woe to
them that offend me, that’s all!”

But if the Baroness expected to impress Miss Brandt with her hints of
terror, she was mistaken. Harriet did not seem in the least astonished. She had been brought up by old Pete and the servants on her father’s
plantation to believe in witches, and the evil eye, and “Obeah” and the
whole cult of Devil worship. “I know all about that,” she remarked presently, “but you can’t do me
either good or harm. I want nothing from you and I never shall!”

“Don’t you be too sure of that!” replied Madame Gobelli, nodding her
head. “I’ve brought young women more luck than enough with their lovers
before now--yes! and married women into the bargain! If it ’adn’t been
for me, Lady--there! it nearly slipped out, didn’t it?--but there’s a
certain Countess who would never ’ave been a widow and married for the
second time to the man of ’er ’eart, if I ’adn’t ’elped ’er, and she
knows it too! By the way, ’ow do you like Miss Leyton?”

“Not at all,” replied Harriet, quickly, “she is not a bit like Mrs.
Pullen--so cold and stiff and disagreeable! She hardly ever speaks to
me! Is it true that she’s the daughter of a lord, as Madame Lamont
says, and is it that makes her so proud?”

“She’s the daughter of Lord Walthamstowe, but that’s nothing.