The Real Charlotte. 291 



was accustomed, and Mrs. Bruff, who had followed her 

 mistress into the window, sprang on a chair, and arching 

 her back, leaned against the well-known black alpaca apron 

 with a feeling that the occasion was exceptionally propitious. 

 The movements of Charlotte's character, for it cannot be 

 said to possess the power of development, were akin to those 

 of some amphibious thing, whose strong, darting course 

 under the water is only marked by a bubble or two, and it 

 required almost an animal instinct to note them. Every 

 bubble betrayed the creature below, as well as the limita- 

 tions of its power of hiding itself, but people never thought 

 of looking out for these indications in Charlotte, or even 

 suspected that she had anything to conceal. There was an 

 almost blatant simplicity about her^ a humorous rough and 

 readiness which, joined with her literary culture, proved 

 business capacity, and her dreaded temper seemed to leave no 

 room for any further aspect, least of all of a romantic kind. 

 Having opened the window for a minute to scream 

 abusive directions to the men who were spreading gravel, 

 she went back to the table, and, gathering her account- 

 books together, she locked them up in her davenport. The 

 room that, in Julia Duffy's time, had been devoted to the 

 storage of potatoes, was now beginning life again, dressed 

 m the faded attire of the Tally Ho dining-room. Charlotte's 

 books lined one of its newly-papered walls ; the fox-hunting 

 prints that dated from old Mr. Butler's reign at Tally Ho 

 hung above the chimney-pit;ce, and the maroon rep curtains 

 were those at which Francie had stared during her last and 

 most terrific encounter with their owner. The air of occu- 

 pation was completed by a basket on the rug in front of the 

 fire with four squeaking kittens in it, and by the Bible and 

 the grey manual of devotion out of which Charlotte read 

 daily prayers to Louisa the orphan and the cats. It was an 

 ugly room, and nothing could ever make it anything else, 

 but with the aid of the brass-mounted grate, a few bits of 

 Mrs. Mullen's silver on the sideboard, and the deep-set 

 windows, it had an air of respectability and even dignity 

 that appealed very strongly to Charlotte. She enjoyed 

 every detail of her new possessions, and unlike Norry and 

 the cats, felt no regret for the urban charms and old 

 associations of Tally Ho. Indeed, since her aunt's death. 



