Letters from Bath; Or, A Friend in Exile Read online

  Chapter Eight

  Letter No. 15

  Tuesday, 5th June

  My Dear Julia,

  I trust you know me well enough, that you will be unsurprised to learn that a week’s disappointment has not proved sufficient to sway me from my scheme of rescuing the Barr ladies from their unhappy predicament. Sadly, my plan for discovering a more compassionate benefactress for them came to naught: it appears that for mature ladies in need of companions, there is never any shortage of ‘poor relations’ to occupy these positions; while those who do not already have such companions, are often protective of their independence, and inconveniently argue that to add the interference of a hired companion to a life already filled (variously) with the opinions of husbands, friends, grown children and servants, would be the height of folly. Even Mrs. Warren, upon whose tender heart, I confess, I had rather fixed my hopes, started, and looked alarmed at the first mention of a companion, and after some hesitation, confided to me, in a piercing undertone, her own terrifying experience with one of the creatures, a dreadfully overbearing woman, who had been inflicted on her by Mrs. Warren’s well-meaning son. Mrs. Warren had only been delivered from her, in the end, by the death of the woman’s brother-in-law, a blow which apparently left the widow in too weakened a state to be able to repel a determined invasion of sisterly solicitude. Mrs. Warren locked the door behind her departing ‘companion’ with trembling fingers, as it were, and had expressed herself so vehemently when her son brought up the subject of a replacement, that he had desisted from any further attempts to improve his mother’s life.

  In the face of such a tale, I could not bring myself to press upon her the merits of Mrs. Barr in the hated role, and having met with universal failure in similar conversations with the rest of my allies and several of their friends, I abandoned my attempts to place the mother in a more congenial household, and instead turned my attention toward establishing the daughter as the mistress of her own.

  I know I mentioned previously that I had designs upon a rich suitor for Miss Barr, but further consideration revealed to me that, aside from the greater difficulty of finding such a prize single, agreeable, and present in Bath, there was the additional thought, that someone as shy and unworldly as Miss Barr, was ill-equipped to undertake even the nominal supervision of a rich man’s household, and, despite the respectability of her birth, she would probably quickly become prey to her servants, and a disappointment to her husband. He, vexed by tears and ignorance, would most likely allow contempt to begin to color his perception of his young bride, and thereafter their marriage would inevitably be marked by discord and misery. This was an image of my heroine’s future not to be borne, and thus I trimmed my pattern for Miss Barr’s Suitor to include only a moderate income, and a small, comfortable house, with no more than a handful of servants, and perhaps a boy for the garden.

  One would have thought that such a decision would have made my task much easier, but though at first it expanded my choices, other factors quickly intruded, diminishing my optimism, as well as my list of candidates. In compiling this list, my allies were of course most helpful, though unconscious of doing anything more strenuous than indulging in the most benign bits of gossip and speculation (anything more malicious, I understand, having been forbidden by the Rules of Bath, as laid down by the Revered Nash in a fit of whimsy). Once the fortunes of the prospective suitors were settled upon, however, there were still other matters to take into account, and as little as I thought a wealthy husband would increase Miss Barr’s happiness, did I suppose that a dandy, or a gamester, or a gentleman who might have served as the model for Sir Boreas Blubber, would do so. In the end, there were only two and a half gentlemen whom I found at all acceptable—the last being only partially qualified, due to the number of young ladies I had seen him stand up with, just in the course of a single evening in the Lower Rooms. Such industry might, of course, have been solely inspired by a compassionate regard for those who might otherwise never have been granted an opportunity to dance; but having carefully scrutinized the handsome countenances of the young ladies in question, I thought not. So, though an excessively sociable disposition did not instantly preclude him from appearing on my list, I did think that such a disposition might not be the most compatible with Miss Barr’s own, even if my other reservation was groundless and the young man was not an irretrievable flirt.

  Having made my selection, my next course of action was to arrange the most casual of introductions, and for this I employed the invaluable Mrs. Farris, who is one of those puzzling persons who, despite spending uncounted hours of her day sitting at a card-table and speaking to no one save her immediate companions, somehow contrives to be acquainted with almost everyone, even if it is only to the extent of knowing their names, and being able to nod and smile at them in passing, without receiving a coolly repellent stare in return. Mrs. Farris, therefore, became my chosen escort whenever I could persuade Miss Barr to abandon her book and her chair in order to walk about the rooms and be admired like any normal young lady. In these instances, my usual slow progress worked very much in our favor, for Mrs. Farris had ample time as we crept about, to spot all her varied acquaintances, and begin conversations with them. Perhaps you are thinking, that I have struck upon a very roundabout way in which to promote my scheme; and it is true that after two days and a good deal of tiresome hobbling, Mrs. Farris managed to bring us to the notice of only one of my candidates, who happened to be talking to his sister as we approached. She was well-acquainted with the sister, so there was no difficulty about the business, and I had the gratification of seeing the young man gaze at my heroine with particular attention. Alas, that Miss Barr herself remained in ignorance of his admiration, for throughout the entirety of the conversation (which was, admittedly, brief), she raised her eyes no higher than the lowest fold of his cravat; and even when addressed directly, produced nothing but faint syllables that might be accepted as actual words only if one was very charitably disposed.

  Of course, it would be very much easier to bring Miss Barr to the attention of young men at a ball; but though I have considered the notion of offering to pay her subscription, in the end I am always deterred by the suspicion that a person who has no more than two morning dresses is unlikely to possess the proper attire for even a cotillion-ball, and the knowledge that even if she were somehow suitably clothed and persuaded to attend, she would recoil in genuine horror if any gentlemen were actually presented to her as desirable partners for the dance. I hope I am not as mean as Mrs. Smithton, but I see no point in throwing away half a guinea on someone who would find even less pleasure in a ball than I do myself.

  I would ask you to pray for my success, but as I suppose you are even now frowning down in dismay at this page, and wondering what nonsensical contrivances I am entangling poor innocent Miss Barr in, the best I can hope for is that you will wish me good Luck—since I know you do not believe in the influence of any such mythical entity.

  Yours, thwarted but not yet baffled, Ann Northcott

  PS. By the by, if you have persisted in sharing my letters to you with the rest of your family, I hope you have always remembered to read to them only the most sensible passages; I would not like your mother to think I arrived in Bath and immediately became a frivolous meddler, even though at times I fear that is what may have happened to me. Perhaps it is some little-known effect of sampling the waters. Let us, by all means, blame the selenite, and the inflammable gases.