The strange transfiguration of Hannah Stubbs
suddenly ceased, and drew from the inmost recesses of the drawer, a
small card, yellow with age, which had become wedged at the back. She
held it to the light with a discordant chuckle of triumph. On it was
printed in flourishing Italian characters, “Marchese di Sorrento.”
“What is that?” she cried, holding it out to the Professor, “is that
your name, or is it not?”
Ricardo was fain to confess the truth.
“Sit down, Hannah, my dear,” he said, “compose yourself, I beg of you!
There is no need for you to be angry with me! Be patient and I will
tell you the whole story.”
“Is that your name, or is it not?” repeated the girl, as she
flourished the card in his face.
“Yes! yes! it is, will that content you? But I shall never use it
again, Hannah! I have very good reasons for not doing so, and you must
regard this discovery on your part as if it had never been. Do you
understand me?”
“I don’t know as I do,” said Hannah; “this is your true name, you
say?”
“Yes! I am the Marchese di Sorrento,” replied Ricardo, with some
degree of pride, “but, as I said before, I have discarded the title
and consider that it is no longer mine! I am sorry you ever found it
out, my dear. I should never have told you myself, but as it is, you
must forget it as soon as you can.”
“If it’s your name, it’s mine too,” said Hannah, with an obstinate
look about the mouth.
“It _would_ have been so, had I retained it,” interposed the
Professor, quietly, “but since I choose to be known only as Signor
Ricardo, my wife is Madame, or Mrs. Ricardo--nothing more!”
“If it’s mine, it’s mine,” returned Hannah, doggedly, “and I don’t see
why I’m to be called out of my name! Why should Mrs. Barnett, the
grocer’s wife, call me ‘Missus’, when she ought to say ‘my lady?’ I
’eard ’er telling another customer larst night, as I was a foreigner!
Like ’er impidence! I’ll shew ’er if I’m a foreigner! I’ll make ’er
say ‘my lady’ next time she speaks to me, or I’ll get all our things
from Addison’s.”
“Hannah! Hannah! for Heaven’s sake, don’t make us the laughing stock
of Hampstead,” exclaimed the Professor, in genuine distress, “however
true the story may be, no one will believe it from your lips. They
will ask you, if you are a lady, _why_ you do all the house-work by
yourself. Such people as you speak of, only value their acquaintances
by the amount of money they may happen to possess.”
“And I don’t see why I shouldn’t ’ave a servant to help me!” replied
Hannah, boldly. “If I’m a Markiness, it isn’t fit as I should cook and
scrub and what not, making my ’ands filthy, and spoiling my
complexion. I’ve been going to speak to you about that afore,
Professor--I mean Markiss----”
“O! Hannah! for God’s sake, don’t call me by that name!” cried poor
Ricardo, with both his fingers in his ears.
“Well! I’m sure!” exclaimed his wife. “I s’pose _she_ called you by
it, or summat very similar, but I ain’t good enough, eh? Well! since
I’ve a right to it, I’m going to use it, and so I tells you straight,
and the sooner you gets accustomed to it, the better. ’Tain’t much as
I got by marrying of you, Markiss, so you might as well leave me the
name. ’Twon’t bring in bread and butter anyway!”
“I know it, and what is the use of using a title which you cannot keep
up in appearance? We have only enough money to live on, and I see no
chance of our ever having more.”
“I don’t know about that!” replied the girl, with a cunning look, “I
know of a way by which money could be made, and pretty sharp, too.”
“What do you mean? If you are correct, you will find me willing enough
to take advantage of it!”
“Well! you just give out as I can make the sperrits and things walk
about the room, and make folks pay to come and see them, and you’d
make a fortune. I’ve ’eard Steinberg say so, times out of mind!”
“O! no! no!” exclaimed the Professor, in disgust. “What! make the
vision of my Leonora common property? Let every Jack and Jill, who has
the money to enable them, come and gape at her, sharers with me in
this heavenly pleasure! Never! Hannah, never! I cannot prevent your
adopting my title if you refuse to comply with my request that you
should not do so, but I utterly forbid your turning your divine gift
into a merchandise. I am afraid you have never estimated it at its
real value!”
“No! I can’t say I see much fun in it myself,” replied Hannah,
grinning, “but it got me out of a precious muddle, didn’t it? I don’t
know what I should have done at that time, Professor, if you ’adn’t
taken a fancy to sperrits and things!”
“You appear to have conquered all your fear of them, Hannah,” remarked
the Professor, musingly. “You have altered in many ways lately! I
never hear you object to the cabinet now, nor express terror of the
spirits, in any way.”
“I’ve no call left to be feared of them,” replied his wife, still
grinning, as if her mediumship were an excellent joke. “They’re allays
after me, day and night! I’ve got so used to them, that I don’t take
no more notice of them than I do of you. Let them go on with their
larks, and leave me to go on with mine!”
“And your father and mother, and Joe, Hannah?” continued the
Professor, a little wistfully; “do you never think of them now,
either?”
It seemed as if he would have liked to hear her say that she still
hankered after her people and her home. But her grin remained
unabated.
“Not often,” she replied; “they ain’t no good to me now! As for Joe,
he may go to the devil for aught I care!”
“O! hush! hush! hush!” cried the Professor.
“It’s of no use your saying, ‘’ush! ’ush! ’ush!’ to me, Sig-nor! You
don’t want me to be ’ankering after a young man now that I’m the
Markiness dee Sorrento, do you? Which I don’t, I’m sure! I often
wonders ’ow I could ever ’ave fancied Joe, with his coarse ’air, and
his pig’s eyes! I’m sure if I ’ad my rights and a ’ouse fit for a
Markiness, I would never arsk ’im into it! I’d ’ave no one under a
Barrow-knight, or a squire, within the walls. I should know ’ow to
play my part, you bet, Professor--I means, Markiss!”
Ricardo sighed.
“Well! my poor girl, I fear you will never have the opportunity of
trying it,” he said. “But will you give me a séance this evening! I
feel rather low-spirited, and it will cheer me and do me good.”
“O! you can ’ave it and welcome,” replied Hannah, “but, I say Markiss,
it do seem a pity now, to ’ave all this fuss, and two good hours
wasted, only for you, don’t it? And if we ’ad a dozen or so of
strangers with their ’alf guinea each, why, I’d make more in a night
than you can do in a week.”
She hung coaxingly over him, as she spoke, but Ricardo put her away,
as though the suggestion had come from the Evil One.
“I have said ‘No!’ already, and I would repeat it a thousand times!”
he ejaculated. “You don’t know what you are talking of! Your
insinuation is a desecration of the angel, for whom alone I value your
services.”
“Didn’t _she_ like being a Markiness?” asked Hannah, as she left the
room to make some little preparations before the séance.
Her remark set Ricardo thinking how much all women are alike.
“How they love a title!” he pondered inwardly. “Although Leonora was
of noble birth, I can well remember her pleasure, less roughly
expressed than that of this poor untutored girl, but still the same,
when she first assumed my name, and heard herself called Marchesa di
Sorrento.
“And how proud I was of her, with her lovely face and swan-like
figure, all life and grace! She looked a Marchioness, from the crown
of her noble head to her dainty feet. But this poor, uncouth child of
nature! I never thought of the disgrace to my title, when I married
her! Steinberg reminded me of it, but I considered it dead, and myself
only as a drudging teacher! How did she find out about it, I wonder!
It is inconceivable--still more, that she should take such a keen
pleasure in assuming it! Well! it is a misfortune, but I cannot
prevent her! It _is_ her name beyond all dispute, and if she will use
it, she must!
“But how changed she has become during the last few weeks. Sometimes I
regard her with amazement and cannot believe she is the same Hannah I
married! Where is her timidity--her stolidity--her implacable good
humour--her fear of me and Von Steinberg, flown? She has become brisk
and pert, almost dominant in her manner--and at times I catch a look
in her eye, as though her soul had but just waked up and was
astonished at its own power. Yet with it all, I like her better--yes!
there is decidedly something that I like better in Hannah now, than
when I first married her!
“But this folly about assuming her title! How I wish Von Steinberg
would hasten home, that he might reason her out of it!”
Here, his wife’s voice summoned him to the séance chamber, and he was
soon absorbed in watching for the wonders which his sittings with her
revealed to him.
One point had rather worried him lately, and that was the defection of
his beloved Leonora, or rather, the little advance which she made
towards development. Ricardo had imagined on commencing his studies in
Occultism, that the apparitions would grow with the growth of his
knowledge of them, and from being visible but silent, would progress
in language, as in familiarity, until they would converse with him as
easily as if they stood face to face on earth, or in Heaven.
He had a thousand things to ask of Leonora. He yearned to ascertain
where she now lived--how she employed herself--what associates she
had--and how her spirit life was sustained in her; above all, by what
mystical wonder, she managed to leave her Heavenly dwelling-place and
visit him in the little dark chamber, which he called his séance
room, and through the instrumentality of so rough and untutored a
medium as Hannah Stubbs.
But though he addressed such queries to the apparition of Leonora
night after night, he never received any satisfactory reply. A shrug
of the shoulders--a shake or nod of the head--a whispered “Yes!” or
“No!” seemed to be the extent of information he could receive from
her.
Naturally, having been her husband, he longed to touch her again, to
put his lips to hers, or to grasp the little white hand which was
invariably thrust through the curtain to greet him.
But such favours were sparingly accorded him. If he were permitted to
touch her hand, it was only to pat the outside of it--if her face were
advanced to meet his, it merely brushed his cheek, like the fluttering
of a butterfly’s wing. And, as he had complained to Von Steinberg, her
visits had become far less frequent than they had been at first.
Strangers, in whom he felt but sparse interest, had taken her place
and usurped the time and power, which he considered Leonora’s.
But this evening, after an interval of several days, she appeared. Her
dark eyes peeped at him through a veil of gossamer, which fell to her
feet, and her lissom form swayed itself to and fro, as though loath to
leave the sheltering curtain.
Ricardo was in the lowest spirits. He could think of nothing but the
subject that immediately disquieted him.
“My beautiful Marchesa!” he said, as Leonora’s form appeared at the
entrance of the cabinet, “can you guess how distasteful it is to me to
hear the title which you adorned, usurped by another? _She_ a
Marchesa! O! it is impossible!--degrading--poor uncouth, ignorant
creature! she little knows the height to which she aspires. She could
as soon sit as Queen, upon the throne of England! Forgive me, sweetest
Love, that I should have given this ungainly servant the semblance of
your position. But she is not _my wife_, Leonora! You know it! Her
name is but an empty sound! I have been widowed since the fatal night
that saw your pure spirit wing its flight to Heaven, and I shall