Chapter 1 - Chiswick Mall

While the present century was in its teens, and on one sunshiny morningin June, there drove up to the great iron gate of Miss Pinkerton'sacademy for young ladies, on Chiswick Mall, a large family coach, withtwo fat horses in blazing harness, driven by a fat coachman in athree-cornered hat and wig, at the rate of four miles an hour. A blackservant, who reposed on the box beside the fat coachman, uncurled hisbandy legs as soon as the equipage drew up opposite Miss Pinkerton'sshining brass plate, and as he pulled the bell at least a score ofyoung heads were seen peering out of the narrow windows of the statelyold brick house. Nay, the acute observer might have recognized thelittle red nose of good-natured Miss Jemima Pinkerton herself, risingover some geranium pots in the window of that lady's own drawing-room.

"It is Mrs. Sedley's coach, sister," said Miss Jemima. "Sambo, theblack servant, has just rung the bell; and the coachman has a new redwaistcoat."

"Have you completed all the necessary preparations incident to MissSedley's departure, Miss Jemima?" asked Miss Pinkerton herself, thatmajestic lady; the Semiramis of Hammersmith, the friend of DoctorJohnson, the correspondent of Mrs. Chapone herself.

"The girls were up at four this morning, packing her trunks, sister,"replied Miss Jemima; "we have made her a bow-pot."

"Say a bouquet, sister Jemima, 'tis more genteel."

"Well, a booky as big almost as a haystack; I have put up two bottlesof the gillyflower water for Mrs. Sedley, and the receipt for makingit, in Amelia's box."

"And I trust, Miss Jemima, you have made a copy of Miss Sedley'saccount. This is it, is it? Very good--ninety-three pounds, fourshillings. Be kind enough to address it to John Sedley, Esquire, andto seal this billet which I have written to his lady."

In Miss Jemima's eyes an autograph letter of her sister, MissPinkerton, was an object of as deep veneration as would have been aletter from a sovereign. Only when her pupils quitted theestablishment, or when they were about to be married, and once, whenpoor Miss Birch died of the scarlet fever, was Miss Pinkerton known towrite personally to the parents of her pupils; and it was Jemima'sopinion that if anything could console Mrs. Birch for her daughter'sloss, it would be that pious and eloquent composition in which MissPinkerton announced the event.

In the present instance Miss Pinkerton's "billet" was to the followingeffect:--

The Mall, Chiswick, June 15, 18

MADAM,--After her six years' residence at the Mall, I have the honourand happiness of presenting Miss Amelia Sedley to her parents, as ayoung lady not unworthy to occupy a fitting position in their polishedand refined circle. Those virtues which characterize the young Englishgentlewoman, those accomplishments which become her birth and station,will not be found wanting in the amiable Miss Sedley, whose INDUSTRYand OBEDIENCE have endeared her to her instructors, and whosedelightful sweetness of temper has charmed her AGED and her YOUTHFULcompanions.

In music, in dancing, in orthography, in every variety of embroideryand needlework, she will be found to have realized her friends' fondestwishes. In geography there is still much to be desired; and a carefuland undeviating use of the backboard, for four hours daily during thenext three years, is recommended as necessary to the acquirement ofthat dignified DEPORTMENT AND CARRIAGE, so requisite for every younglady of FASHION.

In the principles of religion and morality, Miss Sedley will be foundworthy of an establishment which has been honoured by the presence ofTHE GREAT LEXICOGRAPHER, and the patronage of the admirable Mrs.Chapone. In leaving the Mall, Miss Amelia carries with her the heartsof her companions, and the affectionate regards of her mistress, whohas the honour to subscribe herself,

Madam, Your most obliged humble servant, BARBARA PINKERTON

P.S.--Miss Sharp accompanies Miss Sedley. It is particularly requestedthat Miss Sharp's stay in Russell Square may not exceed ten days. Thefamily of distinction with whom she is engaged, desire to availthemselves of her services as soon as possible.

This letter completed, Miss Pinkerton proceeded to write her own name,and Miss Sedley's, in the fly-leaf of a Johnson's Dictionary--theinteresting work which she invariably presented to her scholars, ontheir departure from the Mall. On the cover was inserted a copy of"Lines addressed to a young lady on quitting Miss Pinkerton's school,at the Mall; by the late revered Doctor Samuel Johnson." In fact, theLexicographer's name was always on the lips of this majestic woman, anda visit he had paid to her was the cause of her reputation and herfortune.

Being commanded by her elder sister to get "the Dictionary" from thecupboard, Miss Jemima had extracted two copies of the book from thereceptacle in question. When Miss Pinkerton had finished theinscription in the first, Jemima, with rather a dubious and timid air,handed her the second.

"For whom is this, Miss Jemima?" said Miss Pinkerton, with awfulcoldness.

"For Becky Sharp," answered Jemima, trembling very much, and blushingover her withered face and neck, as she turned her back on her sister."For Becky Sharp: she's going too."

"MISS JEMIMA!" exclaimed Miss Pinkerton, in the largest capitals. "Areyou in your senses? Replace the Dixonary in the closet, and neverventure to take such a liberty in future."

"Well, sister, it's only two-and-ninepence, and poor Becky will bemiserable if she don't get one."

"Send Miss Sedley instantly to me," said Miss Pinkerton. And soventuring not to say another word, poor Jemima trotted off, exceedinglyflurried and nervous.

Miss Sedley's papa was a merchant in London, and a man of some wealth;whereas Miss Sharp was an articled pupil, for whom Miss Pinkerton haddone, as she thought, quite enough, without conferring upon her atparting the high honour of the Dixonary.

Although schoolmistresses' letters are to be trusted no more nor lessthan churchyard epitaphs; yet, as it sometimes happens that a persondeparts this life who is really deserving of all the praises the stonecutter carves over his bones; who IS a good Christian, a good parent,child, wife, or husband; who actually DOES leave a disconsolate familyto mourn his loss; so in academies of the male and female sex it occursevery now and then that the pupil is fully worthy of the praisesbestowed by the disinterested instructor. Now, Miss Amelia Sedley was ayoung lady of this singular species; and deserved not only all thatMiss Pinkerton said in her praise, but had many charming qualitieswhich that pompous old Minerva of a woman could not see, from thedifferences of rank and age between her pupil and herself.

For she could not only sing like a lark, or a Mrs. Billington, anddance like Hillisberg or Parisot; and embroider beautifully; and spellas well as a Dixonary itself; but she had such a kindly, smiling,tender, gentle, generous heart of her own, as won the love of everybodywho came near her, from Minerva herself down to the poor girl in thescullery, and the one-eyed tart-woman's daughter, who was permitted tovend her wares once a week to the young ladies in the Mall. She hadtwelve intimate and bosom friends out of the twenty-four young ladies.Even envious Miss Briggs never spoke ill of her; high and mighty MissSaltire (Lord Dexter's granddaughter) allowed that her figure wasgenteel; and as for Miss Swartz, the rich woolly-haired mulatto fromSt. Kitt's, on the day Amelia went away, she was in such a passion oftears that they were obliged to send for Dr. Floss, and half tipsifyher with salvolatile. Miss Pinkerton's attachment was, as may besupposed from the high position and eminent virtues of that lady, calmand dignified; but Miss Jemima had already whimpered several times atthe idea of Amelia's departure; and, but for fear of her sister, wouldhave gone off in downright hysterics, like the heiress (who paiddouble) of St. Kitt's. Such luxury of grief, however, is only allowedto parlour-boarders. Honest Jemima had all the bills, and the washing,and the mending, and the puddings, and the plate and crockery, and theservants to superintend. But why speak about her? It is probable thatwe shall not hear of her again from this moment to the end of time, andthat when the great filigree iron gates are once closed on her, she andher awful sister will never issue therefrom into this little world ofhistory.

But as we are to see a great deal of Amelia, there is no harm insaying, at the outset of our acquaintance, that she was a dear littlecreature; and a great mercy it is, both in life and in novels, which(and the latter especially) abound in villains of the most sombre sort,that we are to have for a constant companion so guileless andgood-natured a person. As she is not a heroine, there is no need todescribe her person; indeed I am afraid that her nose was rather shortthan otherwise, and her cheeks a great deal too round and red for aheroine; but her face blushed with rosy health, and her lips with thefreshest of smiles, and she had a pair of eyes which sparkled with thebrightest and honestest good-humour, except indeed when they filledwith tears, and that was a great deal too often; for the silly thingwould cry over a dead canary-bird; or over a mouse, that the cat haplyhad seized upon; or over the end of a novel, were it ever so stupid;and as for saying an unkind word to her, were any persons hard-heartedenough to do so--why, so much the worse for them. Even Miss Pinkerton,that austere and godlike woman, ceased scolding her after the firsttime, and though she no more comprehended sensibility than she didAlgebra, gave all masters and teachers particular orders to treat MissSedley with the utmost gentleness, as harsh treatment was injurious toher.

So that when the day of departure came, between her two customs oflaughing and crying, Miss Sedley was greatly puzzled how to act. Shewas glad to go home, and yet most woefully sad at leaving school. Forthree days before, little Laura Martin, the orphan, followed her aboutlike a little dog. She had to make and receive at least fourteenpresents--to make fourteen solemn promises of writing every week:"Send my letters under cover to my grandpapa, the Earl of Dexter," saidMiss Saltire (who, by the way, was rather shabby). "Never mind thepostage, but write every day, you dear darling," said the impetuous andwoolly-headed, but generous and affectionate Miss Swartz; and theorphan little Laura Martin (who was just in round-hand), took herfriend's hand and said, looking up in her face wistfully, "Amelia, whenI write to you I shall call you Mamma." All which details, I have nodoubt, JONES, who reads this book at his Club, will pronounce to beexcessively foolish, trivial, twaddling, and ultra-sentimental. Yes; Ican see Jones at this minute (rather flushed with his joint of muttonand half pint of wine), taking out his pencil and scoring under thewords "foolish, twaddling," &c., and adding to them his own remark of"QUITE TRUE." Well, he is a lofty man of genius, and admires the greatand heroic in life and novels; and so had better take warning and goelsewhere.

Well, then. The flowers, and the presents, and the trunks, andbonnet-boxes of Miss Sedley having been arranged by Mr. Sambo in thecarriage, together with a very small and weather-beaten old cow's-skintrunk with Miss Sharp's card neatly nailed upon it, which was deliveredby Sambo with a grin, and packed by the coachman with a correspondingsneer--the hour for parting came; and the grief of that moment wasconsiderably lessened by the admirable discourse which Miss Pinkertonaddressed to her pupil. Not that the parting speech caused Amelia tophilosophise, or that it armed her in any way with a calmness, theresult of argument; but it was intolerably dull, pompous, and tedious;and having the fear of her schoolmistress greatly before her eyes, MissSedley did not venture, in her presence, to give way to any ebullitionsof private grief. A seed-cake and a bottle of wine were produced inthe drawing-room, as on the solemn occasions of the visits of parents,and these refreshments being partaken of, Miss Sedley was at liberty todepart.

"You'll go in and say good-by to Miss Pinkerton, Becky!" said MissJemima to a young lady of whom nobody took any notice, and who wascoming downstairs with her own bandbox.

"I suppose I must," said Miss Sharp calmly, and much to the wonder ofMiss Jemima; and the latter having knocked at the door, and receivingpermission to come in, Miss Sharp advanced in a very unconcernedmanner, and said in French, and with a perfect accent, "Mademoiselle,je viens vous faire mes adieux."

Miss Pinkerton did not understand French; she only directed those whodid: but biting her lips and throwing up her venerable and Roman-nosedhead (on the top of which figured a large and solemn turban), she said,"Miss Sharp, I wish you a good morning." As the Hammersmith Semiramisspoke, she waved one hand, both by way of adieu, and to give Miss Sharpan opportunity of shaking one of the fingers of the hand which was leftout for that purpose.

Miss Sharp only folded her own hands with a very frigid smile and bow,and quite declined to accept the proffered honour; on which Semiramistossed up her turban more indignantly than ever. In fact, it was alittle battle between the young lady and the old one, and the latterwas worsted. "Heaven bless you, my child," said she, embracing Amelia,and scowling the while over the girl's shoulder at Miss Sharp. "Comeaway, Becky," said Miss Jemima, pulling the young woman away in greatalarm, and the drawing-room door closed upon them for ever.

Then came the struggle and parting below. Words refuse to tell it. Allthe servants were there in the hall--all the dear friend--all the youngladies--the dancing-master who had just arrived; and there was such ascuffling, and hugging, and kissing, and crying, with the hystericalYOOPS of Miss Swartz, the parlour-boarder, from her room, as no pen candepict, and as the tender heart would fain pass over. The embracing wasover; they parted--that is, Miss Sedley parted from her friends. MissSharp had demurely entered the carriage some minutes before. Nobodycried for leaving HER.

Sambo of the bandy legs slammed the carriage door on his young weepingmistress. He sprang up behind the carriage. "Stop!" cried MissJemima, rushing to the gate with a parcel.

"It's some sandwiches, my dear," said she to Amelia. "You may behungry, you know; and Becky, Becky Sharp, here's a book for you that mysister--that is, I--Johnson's Dixonary, you know; you mustn't leave uswithout that. Good-by. Drive on, coachman. God bless you!"

And the kind creature retreated into the garden, overcome with emotion.

But, lo! and just as the coach drove off, Miss Sharp put her pale faceout of the window and actually flung the book back into the garden.

This almost caused Jemima to faint with terror. "Well, I never"--saidshe--"what an audacious"--Emotion prevented her from completing eithersentence. The carriage rolled away; the great gates were closed; thebell rang for the dancing lesson. The world is before the two youngladies; and so, farewell to Chiswick Mall.