Hartley yawned hugely, and said, ‘Oh, the guv’nor has better things to do than worry about balls, I can tell you. There was the devil of a fuss at the embassy last night, lights burning until all hours, and the upshot of it is, we shall all be off home any time now. I wish they would get on with it, and do away with this nonsensical peace. I mean to get Pa to buy me a commission as soon as ever the war starts, and then there’ll be some fun at last! It’ll be a famous lark, I warrant you! Sauvechasse was in the last one, and he says there’s nothing like it, only he says one must get into one of the proper fighting regiments, not one of these fancy Dragoons outfits that do nothing but drill and visit their tailors three times a week.’ He yawned again. ‘I dare say Mama will kick up a fuss about it, and want me to join a fashionable cavalry regiment. Well, we shall see. Where was you off to, anyway, Miss Peters, when I bumped into you? No, let me guess – the mantuamakersl’
He grinned triumphantly at his own perspicacity, and Anne was glad enough to be able to agree truthfully.
‘You guess right, Mr Murray.’
‘Those sisters of mine will never rest until they have bought up Paris! If I don’t bankrupt the guv’nor, they’ll go far to doing it; and however they’ll get all their clothes back to England without sinking the ship, I don’t know. Well, I’m off home for a clean shirt, and then back to the club. Harrington and Markby and some of the others have some notion of joining the German mercenaries when the war starts. I must say the idea of being out from under the guv’nor’s eye, and away from all the old pussy-cats and their wagging tongues, appeals mightily.
Good day, Miss Peters. If the Count calls, I’ll tell him to wait for you!’
He grinned happily at his own wit, attempted again to raise his missing hat, and ambled away round the corner. Anne watched him go with half a smile, and more fellow-feeling than she had ever thought to have for him, and then resumed her own way towards the first of the dressmaking establishments in the rue St Honoré.
Chapter Four
So preoccupied had Anne been with her own immediate problems that Hartley’s words about the imminence of war had hardly impinged on her. He was, in any case, one of the world’s worst rattles, and not to be relied on for accuracy. So when she returned to number eight rue St Augustine at the end of the day, she was not prepared for the scene of confusion which greeted her.
She went in by the service door and ran cheerfully up the backstairs, well satisfied with the result of her endeavours. She had found herself a position with a mantuamaker, which, if it did not promise much immediately, was at least the first step on the ladder, and at the recommendation of her new employer had also secured herself a room in a lodging-house which was clean and conveniently placed. She had thus made herself independent of the Murrays, which alone was enough to put a spring in her step.
Half-way up the stairs, one of the French housemaids pushed past her brusquely with an armful of linen. Then, as she passed the end of the second-floor passage, the maid Salton shot out of the young ladies’ room like a peeled grape, impelled by Miss Murray’s voice crying shrilly, ‘And don’t come back until you’ve found it!’
Anne stopped in surprise. There were boxes standing in the passage, the chair outside the door was heaped with clothes, and from inside the room came the sound of the Miss Murrays chattering excitedly. Anne could not hear what they were saying, but she could tell from the tone of their voices that something tremendous had happened.
‘Salton, what is it? Are you packing?’ she asked.
The maid, who had been scurrying in the other direction, span round at the sound of her voice, and cried, ‘Oh Miss, there you are! Thank heaven! Miss Murray’s in such a taking, for I can’t find her nightgown with the Marseilles frocking, and there’s Miss Caroline’s boxes to be done as well, and her taking everything out again as fast as I can put it in, and both of them argufying about whose is what, and I don’t know how ever I am to get done if you don’t come and help me. Couldn’t you p’raps take them away somewhere and read to them, Miss? They’ll have everything out again by the time I’m back, even if I can find the nightgown at all, which I’m sure it must have been stolen by that laundress, for I’ve looked everywhere else I can think of.’
‘It’s all right, Salton, I have it in my room,’ Anne said quickly. ‘I was altering it for Miss Murray, don’t you remember? Come with me now, and I’ll give it to you. But why are you packing? Has something happened?’
‘Why, Miss, didn’t you know?’ Salton said, round-eyed, as she panted up the stairs behind her. ‘We’re all leaving. Master came home two hours since, and said as how everyone was going as soon as possible, and Mistress gave orders to pack right away. New instructions from home, it seems, Miss. Master was with Lord Whitworth and the Russian Ambassador all day–’
‘The Russian Ambassador?’ Anne exclaimed.
‘Yes, Miss, because nobody knew which way the King of Russia was going to jump, with Malta and all that, and now Betson says Master says he’s going to side with the French, so we must go home, Miss, that’s what I heard.’
‘Yes, Salton, well never mind it now,’ Anne said, realising she could not hope for a clearer account of the political situation from a harassed serving-maid. ‘Come and fetch the nightgown, and I’ll see what I can do to help you.’
But she had no sooner handed over the nightdress, and a heap of silk stockings which had been given her to darn because Lady Murray said they never sat right after Simpkins had been at them, when a housemaid came in to say that Miss Peters was wanted in at once in Lady Murray’s room. Anne paused only to take off her hat and pelisse, and went down to face whatever new odium was waiting for her.
Lady Murray’s room also bore the signs of imminent departure, but there was no confusion here, for Simpkins was an expert packer, and Lady Murray would never have dreamed of interfering with her. Her ladyship was still on the day bed, and still in her wrapper, but she had her writing-case on her lap and appeared to be in the middle of writing a note. Anne had hardly ever before seen her with a pen in her hand, and it may have been the memory of Anne’s services in that department which made her speak more civilly than probably she had intended.
‘Ah, Miss Peters, there you are. I have been sending to your room for you half the day.’
‘I went out, ma’am,’ Anne said briefly. Lady Murray looked as though she meant to challenge this statement, but having regard to the angle of Anne’s chin, changed her mind.
‘Well, never mind that now. As you see, we are packing everything. Sir Ralph says we must be ready to leave at a moment’s notice, though he does not know exactly when the orders will come. When you have packed your own box you had better help Salton with the Miss Murrays’ boxes, for I dare say she is behind as usual. Sir Ralph says we shall have to travel post, which I detest above all things, so you will have to travel with Miss Caroline, for there will be no stopping if she is sick, and I cannot have her in the carriage with me.’
‘I, ma’am?’ Anne said, raising her eyebrows. ‘What can you mean?’
Lady Murray frowned crossly. ‘Don’t pretend to be stupid, Miss Peters. You will travel with us only as far as London, of course, and I hope I can trust you to comport yourself properly during the journey. You will attend Miss Caroline, who I dare say will be dreadfully sick, but we must travel quickly when we go, though I don’t think I quite understand why. Then Sir Ralph has said that he will pay you a month’s salary in lieu of notice, which I consider very handsome; and – though I don’t promise it, mind – if you behave yourself extremely well between now and then, I may bring myself to give you a reference after all, though I shall have to think how to frame it, for I cannot, of course, write any untruths. But I shall say something, at all events.’