It Began in Vauxhall Gardens

"No ... or very little."

"Then you must learn more. You must learn about art, poetry and music. There is much conversation in my salon, and it is better for a girl to be intelligent and beautiful. She does better for herself. Genevra is a very beautiful girl, but she knows very little, and she will not or ca

"Do they know that I am . . . the unaccepted daughter of Sir Charles Treve

"They do not know his name, dear. It is wiser not to tell. You can never be sure into whose ears the information will fall. They'll know you're illegitimate. Clotilde is the illegitimate daughter of a lady of high rank. Her mother asked me to take her . . . much as your father did. Lucie is another ... although not so highly placed and the daughter of a gentleman and a village girl. She is to marry with her father's consent. We are delighted with Lucie. My girls find what they want in my establishment, and that is what I want."

"You are very kind, I can see."

"Oh, I have been fortunate. I like to share my good fortune. I teach my girls to be self-reliant. When I was a girl of your age I was married. I had a fortune and what I thought was a fine future. My husband was unfaithful to me and, worse still, he spent all my money."

"I ca

"Most wish it, my dear; some because they are fools; others because they are wise. The fools long for a man to protect them; the wise long for a man whom they can govern. Petticoat government, my dear, is what I like to teach my girls; how to rule the world of men. The essence of the power which we wield is our secrecy. The only way to subdue masculine egoism is never to offend masculine vanity by letting it be known that you are in control. It is a simple method when dealing with simpletons. Half the world is made up of rulers; the other half, of slaves. You must decide to which half you are going to belong."

"This is all very strange to me. I have never heard anyone talk like this before."

"You have lived with nuns.*'

"And they hate men. They shut themselves away from them."

"I don't hate men; I like them. I understand them. In fact I'm very fond of them. But I never let my fondness blind me to their weakness. Consider us and consider them. We let them think we are vain. We are the ones who are continually peeping into mirrors, who are concerned about gowns and ornaments. Poor souls! They call that vanity when they feel they themselves are so perfect that they need little adornment. But you will learn. When you have finished tea I am going to ring for one of the girls to show you your room. They will help you to dress and, unless you feel too tired—or would rather not—you may come to the salon this evening. What clothes have you? Have you a suitable gown for evening wear?"

"I have one for special occasions. My ... Sir Charles bought it for me when we were in Paris."

"Is it as becoming as that one?"

"It is beautiful, but I have had few occasions to wear it."

"Let Genevra see it and she will tell you if it is suitable for the salon. If it is, and you wish to let them bring you down, you may come. But if you would prefer to stay in your room and rest after your journey, please do so. It will be necessary for you to be discreet in the salon. We will say that you are convent-bred, which is true, of course; you have come from the country because your family feel that you should not stay there where there are so few opportunities of meeting people. What do you know of literature ?"

"I have read Pilgrim's Progress and some of Jane Austin's novels while I was in the Convent. When I was in Cornwall I read Sartor Resartus and the Last Days of Pompeii"

Fenella grimaced. "No Byron?"

"No ... no Byron."

"You must be very quiet to-night ... if you come down. After all, you are French. You can pretend you don't understand if conversation gets beyond you. Genevra uses her impudence as a defence against her ignorance. At first you can pretend not to understand the language. To-morrow I shall set you a course of reading. I can see you are intelligent and will quickly learn. You should be able to discuss the works of Te

"Very little indeed, I'm afraid."

"Well, at the moment you will become delightfully French if these subjects turn up. I doubt whether many will feel equal to

204 IT BEGAN IN VAUXHALL GARDENS

conducting a conversation in French on such subjects. I feel very strongly about the working conditions of women and children in the mines and factories. We have some old Tories who argue fiercely about that. You ask what your duties will be. You must keep up to date with current affairs. My young ladies must not only be beautiful; they must be entertaining. Now, my dear, I can see that I am bewildering you. I am going to ring for one of the girls to show you your room. She will show you the house and tell you all you need to know. Go and pull the bell-rope, will you?"

Melisande obeyed, and the summons was answered by a maid who was asked by Fenella to find either Miss Clotilde, Miss Lucie or Miss Genevra, and send her along.

In a short time there was a knock on the door and there entered one of the most beautiful girls Melisande had ever seen.

She was fair-haired and her eyes were a startling blue; she had a small piquant face and a slightly tiptilted nose; while she was slender there was a hint of the voluptuous in her figure; and there was about her an air of suppressed amusement.

"Ah!" said Fenella. "Genevra!"

"Yes, Madam?" The accent was unexpected; in it was the unmistakable tang of the London streets.

"Genevra, here is Melisande St. Martin who is going to be with us. I want you to look after her . . . show her round ... see that she is comfortable."

"Why yes, Madam." She smiled at Melisande.

"Take her along now, Genevra."

Melisande followed Genevra.

Polly came in as soon as Melisande had left.

Fenella smiled ironically. "Well?"

"Talk about a little beauty!" said Polly. "I bet she reminded you of what you were . . . like all the charmers do."

"No insolence now!"

"What are your plans for her?"

"He wants me to find the right sort of husband for her—a lawyer would be his choice."

"He don't look all that high, does he?" said Polly sarcastically.

"Don't forget he's a countryman. He's got a keen sense of the fitness of things. She's a girl of obscure birth, and therefore she's

suitable only for a professional gentleman—a barrister say. There'll be a nice dowry for her—a great attraction."

"And a nice picking for us, Madam dear?"

"We'll be paid for her board and lodging while she is here, and we'll be given a useful sum when we have delivered the husband."

"It beats me how you do it," said Polly admiringly. "No one but you could. Look at you! Nobody could call you a prude, Madam dear; and yet country gentlemen with nice ideas put their daughters into your charge. Young ladies from convents mix with harlots . . . for that Kate and Mary Jane are no less ..."

"Now, Polly, this is where you show your mediocrity. Moderation is always desirable. Put girls in a nu