The strange transfiguration of Hannah Stubbs
“and still more that Hannah should appear ungrateful for your
indulgence.”
“But it is ridiculous--absurd--” exclaimed Ricardo, passionately,
“that she should pass the evening with such people as you gather round
you. Remember what she was--a common scullery maid! She can only bring
disgrace on you and me and herself!”
“But you are really mistaken,” said the Baron. “I acknowledge that
Hannah is uneducated, but she has much shrewdness, and knows when to
hold her tongue. She behaved admirably last evening, and my friends
were delighted with her--so much so, that had I not interfered, she
would have been overwhelmed with invitations to their houses.”
“Only to save themselves money,” sneered Ricardo, “to procure her
services for nothing! She is a curiosity--a new toy--nothing more!”
“I don’t think you quite do justice to Hannah,” observed Von
Steinberg, “she is more than a mere machine! She is naturally clever,
and can be very amusing and original. And she really looked superb! I
was quite astonished at her appearance!”
“She doesn’t go out again. She has done it for the last time!”
persisted the Professor, doggedly.
“My dear friend, there is something more the matter than you have told
me,” said the Baron, looking anxiously into Ricardo’s face; “you are
not yourself this morning! Is there anything else, beside your wife’s
very natural desire to see a little of the great world, that troubles
you?”
“A great deal more,” exclaimed the Professor, “my life with her is
becoming a hell upon earth! I can stand it no longer! You know why I
married her, Karl! A coarse, uneducated, ignorant clod (as you
yourself called her)--I gave her my name and the sanctity of my home,
because she brought my Leonora to me. The great object of my life
seemed about to be realised--my yearnings set at rest! I made this
clod my wife--no! no! not my wife; I will never give her that sacred
title--but I made her mine by law, so that I might keep Leonora ever
by my side. And now--can you believe it?--she refuses any more to sit
for Leonora!”
“O! you must be mistaken,” cried Von Steinberg, “Hannah may be tired
of sitting for a while--you forget the strain it is upon her
constitution--but she can never have intended you to understand that
she would never sit for you again.”
“She said it, and she meant it. I could read it in her evil eyes,”
replied Ricardo, steadfastly. “She told me only this morning, when I
asked if we could have a séance together this evening, that she had
made up her mind to sit with me no more. She said worse than that,”
continued the Professor, in a breaking voice, “she declared that
Leonora--my Leonora--was sick and tired of me--that she said she had
come often enough--and expressed her determination not to appear
again, unless it were for the amusement of a crowd, such as you
gathered round you last night--a crowd who cares nothing for her
personally,--only to see the wonder of her materialisation. And
I--_I_--loved her so!” he gasped out, as he hid his face from
observation, and gave vent to a weak flood of tears.
Karl von Steinberg was much shocked. He was really attached to the
Professor, and his conscience pricked him sorely, lest he should, by
indirect means, have had some share in bringing this trouble on his
head. He turned with him down a narrow lane, where they would be more
sheltered from observation, and waited silently until Ricardo’s
emotion had subsided.
“How weak--how unmanly--you must think me!” he said at last, as he
lifted his worn face and smiled faintly at the Baron, “but I have been
much shaken lately! Hannah’s insolence to me--her over-bearing
manner--the way in which she uses Leonora’s sacred name in my
presence--has sapped my courage!
“O! what an egregious fool I was, not to listen to your kindly advice,
when you warned me that to marry her would ruin me, soul and body! It
has been just that! Were it not for cowardice, I would put an end to
my life to-morrow! There is nothing left me worth living for!”
“My dear friend! I cannot hear you talk like that! I must prescribe a
tonic to strengthen your nerves! You are run down, that is all. I am
afraid that you work too much and worry too much. Do you know,
Ricardo, that these constant séances are very debilitating for you,
and though she might have conveyed the intelligence in milder
language, Hannah is quite right in saying, that you must not indulge
your fancy so frequently.
“I was speaking to her of the danger of it, the other day, and I
daresay she was only repeating my sentiments on the subject to you. If
she failed to express them rightly, you must remember that she has not
been reared in a polite school, and make allowances for her!”
“It is not that!” replied the Professor, shaking his head; “Hannah is
not the same woman she used to be--she is altered in every way! Do you
remember the first time we saw her at Mrs. Battleby’s?--how shy and
awkward she was--how terrified at the effect of her own power--what an
unmeaning, but amiable smile, irradiated her dull vacuous countenance?
“Where has all that gone? She is still somewhat clumsy and coarse, but
her temper is hasty and uncertain--she has developed the cunning of
the Devil--and she will have her own way in everything! It is of no
use my trying to guide, or advise her. She considers she is quite
capable of doing all that for herself.”
“Well! you could hardly expect her to remain for ever, the dull clod
you rightly say she was, when you first fell in with her! She had had
no advantages then, nor opportunities of improving herself! Now--she
has lived for more than twelve months in your daily presence, and must
have been dull indeed, if she had not picked up something of your ways
and manners!”
“But she need not _insult_ me!” cried Ricardo, vehemently, “I tell
you, Karl, there is hardly a day goes by, but she stings my pride with
some covert allusion to the Past! What does she know of it? Have you
ever spoken to her of Leonora?”
“_Never!_ beyond her name!” replied the Baron, decidedly, “what you
related to me of her life and death, I have kept sacredly to myself!”
“Yes! yes! I am sure of it! I should not have put the question to
you,” said Ricardo, feebly, as he wiped the sweat off his forehead;
“but, O! Von Steinberg, I am utterly miserable! I cannot bear my life
much longer! The sooner it is ended, the better!”
Whatever thoughts had run riot through the Baron’s brain as he set out
for the Cottage, were all merged now in the desire to redress the
wrongs of his old friend, and bring Hannah to her senses. He parted
with Ricardo affectionately--told him that he should speak to his wife
on the subject--and extracted a promise from him, that he would come
the following day and dine quietly with him in Portland Place. And
then he hurried on to the Cottage, determined to give Hannah such a
roasting as she had never received from him in her life before.
He found her dressed in a sort of loose tea-gown, seated in the
Professor’s arm-chair, and apparently engaged in reading one of her
husband’s scientific works.
“Isn’t it strange,” she said, as soon as the usual morning salutations
had passed between them, “that I can’t make out half these words? I
seem to have forgotten how to read!”
“I don’t suppose that you ever knew!” returned Von Steinberg, who was
disposed to be rather curt with her on the occasion.
“Then you are mistaken,” she said, without offence, “for I could read
very well--but English is so hard,” she added, pathetically.
The Baron stared at her. Hannah was in one of those queer moods which
were so unaccountable to him.
“Never mind that now!” he said, “I want to talk to you upon another
matter. I met your husband as I was coming up just now, and had some
conversation with him. I think he is looking very ill, and he seems
very unhappy! Why are you treating him so badly, Hannah? What has he
done, that you should make his life a misery to him?”
“Who says that I have?” she answered.
“He did! He told me that you have refused to sit any more with him. Is
that true?”
“Yes! He is wearing me and himself into the grave! He is never
contented, but must sit every night. I shall be ill, if it goes on.
_You_ must prevent it, Karl!”
It was the first time she had ever presumed to call him by his
Christian name and it pleased, whilst it startled him. He drew his
chair nearer to hers.
“I will if I can! I have just been telling Ricardo how bad it is for
you both! But you are not kind to him, Hannah! He says you insult him,
how is that?”
“Bah!” said the girl; “I am sick of his reproaches! They are all on
account of Leonora! If I tell him what is the truth, that Leonora is a
very violent spirit, and that I am more tired after one of her visits
than after twenty others, I have insulted him!
“He is angry now, because you asked me to your house last night, and I
was happy to go. He wants to keep me shut up here all day, whilst he
gives his lessons. It is intolerable! Does he think I am not made of
flesh and blood? But what I told you once before, is true--he married
me, not to get a wife, but a medium! Well! he has got a medium, and
perhaps he will find after all, that a wife might have been a better
thing!”
“Hannah! I am so sorry for all this,” said Von Steinberg,
thoughtfully, “Ricardo is a dear, good fellow in reality, but his
nature has been soured by adversity. He has lost everything,--wife,
fortune, and title--and it has weighed upon his mind. You must bear
with him--he is an old man now----”
“I hate old men!” interposed Hannah.
“No! don’t say that, for I was going to add, that he is much older
than his years, and that I don’t think that he will live for many
more! He is in such a despondent condition too, that I feel very
anxious about him, and I want you to watch him carefully. Have you any
poison about the premises--beetle poison, or oxalic acid, or any of
those mixtures, that servants use for cleaning?”
“What do you mean?” inquired Hannah, with open eyes.
“I mean, that if his distresses weigh too heavily upon his mind, he
may get up some night and take anything that comes to hand, to end his
life. If you have any such dangerous mixtures in the Cottage, Hannah,
you must throw them away, or lock them up. And you will be very kind
to Ricardo--for my sake, won’t you?
“Get him a nice little hot supper, and meet him with a kind smile,
when he comes in, for he is very low-spirited to-day, and if he asks
for a séance, give him one. He has promised to dine with me alone
to-morrow, and then I will have a serious talk with him, about all
this, and show him the folly of endangering your health and his own
for the sake of his occult studies. Will you do this--for _my_ sake?”
he concluded, looking in her face.
“Yes, for _your_ sake, Karl,” she answered, in a low voice.
“Ah! why didn’t _I_ see the beauties in your undeveloped character,
when we first met, and marry you, instead of Ricardo?” exclaimed the
Baron, “there should have been none of this forcing of your
inclinations then! I would have carried you abroad, and let your
natural talents have full sway, until they had blossomed into
fruition. You have a big heart and soul and brain, Hannah! They only
require opportunity, to keep pace with those of anybody.”
“And would you have taken me there?” demanded Hannah, with sudden
interest.
“There--or anywhere!” cried Von Steinberg, rashly.
Hannah made no answer, except what was conveyed by putting her huge
hand into his. He glanced at it, as it lay in his slenderer palm. It
was less rough, and of a better colour, than it had been, but it was
still very, _very_ far from what a lady’s hand should be! As he
regarded it, the same feeling of wonder that had assailed him before,