I was with Lady Sallonger—as I often was now—when Grand’mere came to her. I was always struck by Grand’mere’s dignity. It was so much a part of her and it demanded immediate respect.
“Forgive me for disturbing you, Lady Sallonger,” she said, “but I must speak to you on a matter that is very important.”
“Oh dear,” sighed Lady Sallonger, who had an aversion to matters that were important and might be left to her to decide.
“It is this. I am to go to London. Yes, it is necessaire for Miss Julia to go. And we must see what is being worn and what we can do to give her the finest wardrobe of the season … yes, yes. I am happy for all this, but I could not go without my granddaughter. It is necessaire that I should have her with me.”
Lady Sallonger opened her eyes very wide. “Lenore,” she cried. “But I need Lenore here. Who will read to me? We are re-reading East Lynne. I need her to look after me.”
“I know that Lenore is of great service to you, Lady Sallonger, but I could not work well if she were not with me … and this is for one week only … perhaps a day or so more. Miss Logan is very good. And there is Miss Everton. They can all serve you.”
“It is quite impossible.”
They looked steadily at each other—two indomitable women, each accustomed to having her own way. It was a tribute to Grand’mere’s character and perhaps her unusual position in the household, that she won the day. Self-absorbed as she was, Lady Sallonger realized die importance of getting Julia launched into society. Grand’mere must go to London and it was clear that she would not go unless I went with her.
Lady Sallonger eventually pursed her lips into a pout and said: “I suppose I shall have to let her go, but it is not very convenient.”
“I know how you appreciate my granddaughter,” said Grand’mere with a touch of irony, “but I must have her with me. Otherwise I could not go.”
“I do not see why not… .”
“Ah, my lady, it is not always easy to see the ‘why not’ for what is necessary for others. i do not see why Miss Logan cannot look after you, and since Lenore is such a comfort to you, you will readily see why i cannot do without her on this very important occasion.”
Grand’mere was triumphant.
“It is time you had a little rest from her,” she said when we were alone. “She is demanding more and more of you. I can see that as the years pass … unless something happens to prevent it … you will be her slave. It is not what I wish for you.”
I was very excited at the prospect of going to London. Cassie was downcast because she would not be accompanying us. There was a suggestion that she should come but Lady Sallonger had very firmly said that she would need her to share some of my duties with Miss Logan.
“It is only for a week or so,” I told Cassie, “and I shall tell you all about it on my return.”
So Julia and I set out with Grand’mere on a rather blustery March day, travelling by rail, which was far more convenient than going by carriage. Cobb met us at the station and took us to the house in Grantham Square.
I was very excited, riding through the streets of London. Everyone seemed to be in a great hurry and there was bustle everywhere. Hansom cabs and broughams sped through the streets at such a rate that I feared they would ride over people in their haste. But no one seemed to think this extraordinary so I supposed it was the usual state of affairs.
As we came into Regent Street Grand’mere was alert. She spoke the names of the shops aloud. Peter Robinson’s… Dickens and Jones … Jay’s. I caught glimpses of splendid looking goods in the windows. Grand’mere was purring like a contented cat.
Grantham Square was in one of the many fashionable residential parts of London. The house was tall, the architecture Georgian and elegant. There were steps to a portico with two urns on either side supported by flimsily clad nymphs and in the urns was a display of tulips. Cobb deposited us at the house and took the carriage round to the mews at the back.
There was a butler, a footman and several servants—slightly more than those we had at The Silk House. Sir Francis was not at home so we were taken to our rooms by the housekeeper who asked us to let her know if there was anything we needed. She was an authoritative looking lady and rather formidable in her black bombazine which rustled when she walked. Her name was Mrs. Camden.
Grand’mere and I were to share a room. It was at the top of the house and large and airy. There were two beds and a small alcove in which was a basin and ewer.
Grand’mere said: “I think we shall be comfortable here. At least we are together.”
I smiled at her. I knew she was determined not to leave me alone in a house to which Charles might come back.
They were interesting days. Sir Francis arrived later that night. He was very courteous to Grand’mere. He said he had been delayed and hoped that we had been well looked after. The Countess of Ballader was arriving the next day and she would then get to work with Julia.
He wanted to take Grand’mere to the Spitalnelds works to show her the new looms and the modern way of weaving, which was causing some distress to the workers, who always thought that when something new came in it threatened their jobs.
“There are always troubles,” he said.
Grand’mere explained to him what a help I was to her and how I had a natural flair for matching styles with materials.
“She will be another such as yourself,” said Sir Francis, eyeing me with approval.
“I think that may well be so,” replied Grand’mere fondly.
I was so tired that night that I was asleep as soon as I got into bed and I awoke next morning to a feeling of excitement.
The Countess of Ballader arrived next day and took charge of Julia. She was to stay in the house while we were there. There was so much Julia had to learn. On those occasions when I saw her—and these were not often for she was almost always being put through her paces by the indefatigable Countess—I heard that on the great day she must have her hair dressed in such a manner as to support the three plumes, and a veil must be worn; her curtsy never seemed to please the Countess, though she could not see what was wrong with it. What was a curtsy anyway? One just bobbed down. Why should it be so difficult to learn? And her waist was not small enough; she had to be fitted for new corsets and she knew they were going to squeeze her so painfully that they made her red in the face; and that would be wrong too.
Poor Julia! Being launched into society seemed to be more a strenuous ordeal than a pleasant experience. But her excitement remained, though she did admit that she might be a failure at her first ball and she was terrified that no one would ask her to dance.
I had a happier time. Grand’mere and I explored London together. We looked in shop windows; we walked through the departments. Grand’mere noted the latest fashions … not only in the shops but on the ladies in the streets. There was a lack of chic, she said. She did not need to learn anything from them.
She bought a few materials and discussed with me how they should be made up.
Sir Francis took Grand’mere to Spitalfields. She came back preoccupied, I thought.
It was fun sharing a room with her, for we used to lie in bed and talk before we slept.
She said: “All this fuss … for one young girl. It seems an extraordinary custom, does it not? A girl cannot go into society and meet others of her class until she has been approved by the Court. And what is that encounter? A bob of the knees and … pass on. And yet there she is … in court gown, plumes and veil… after months of preparation. What do you think? Does it not make you laugh?”