Chapter 6 The departure

Everything in Vernon's house went its usual way next day. No one could even suspect that something was wrong. Lord Vernon was calm as usually, strict as required and chatty as he could let himself. But then Colonel Matthews came and again they locked themselves in the study. They weren't there for long. When they came out the military man had a grave face, although it was habitual for him, and Sir Arthur was in some anger and anxiety, which he tried to conceal as hard as he could. After seeing off his friend the lord went to his wife and they were talking for some time. Jenny, who was loaded with work, had a moment when she could leave it without being noticed. She stole to the lady's room, put her cheek to the door and tried to strain all her hearing. They were speaking... It seemed she could make out some words but... Oh! They were talking so quietly! The maid tried harder. Here... "What are ye doin'?!" was heard the well-known to our girl voice that could frighten even an experienced soldier. "Nancy..." Jenny said quietly. She was really not in time... "Shameless girl! Don't ye have work to do?" the old maid shouted again. "Oh, I know, I know, I know..." Jenny went away from the door and right at that moment it was opened and the noble pair, who was disturbed by Nancy s shout, appeared in the doorway. Everyone looked at Jenny crossing their arms on breasts. Understanding that she had just been caught red-handed the young girl cried out as a great tragic actress: "Yes, I am shameless! Yes, I am sinned! Oh! I am better to be gone with the wind! And I know that I have still some work to do." And with these words she returned to her duties. Funny, just a couple of days ago Colonel Dellis caught her talking with some lad at the market and it was his verse! He really got stuck on her and the only way to get rid of his attack of poetry was to give a letter to Miss Rosie. Besides, what is with her? She locked herself in her room. The first time when she came out of there was when her father made her visit a usual event in the high society. Everything should have been in such way as if nothing had happened. She hardly spoke a word for all that time. When she was free, she again locked herself there and would not come out till her parents made her. Well, she had a habit of being mostly in her room but she wasn't used to locking herself at daytime. The day after that in the evening a carriage with the veiled companion set off for Bath. The girl was really surprised and delighted to travel like a lady but the only condition was to depart that very night. At least a weak had passed from that moment when the preparations started for Rosie's departure. Most of the work did Jenny. She had been watched for that entire week so as she couldn't connect with Dellis. Rosie confessed to her mother that she was the only maid in the house that knew her secret. To tell you the truth, Jenny didn't like that at all. Once she asked her lady why she wouldn't have rebelled and instead passively accepted everything. But Rosie didn't answer. Their set-off was quite unnoticeable. To people including the fiancé, who suspected nothing, it was said that the young of Vernons had weak health and needed some peace and quiet. That's why she left for her uncle's house near Bath. But in fact the carriage drove in absolutely different direction. There in a modest unsightly vehicle sat three persons. The two of them of course were our dear girls. Let me introduce you the third one. Mr Crookins, one of the employees of Lord Vernon, who was ordered to accompany our heroines or in other words be their watchdog. It was a man neither tall nor short, neither thin nor fat. All in all, only his head could have been described somehow. It had a form of an overturned pear or, what's so, of an uninvented yet light bulb. On its top were combed tightly back yellowish hair and on its bottom was a very little mouth, just like Gothic beauties had. His colourless eyes were concealed behind glasses. His skin was pale and nose too wasn't a masterpiece. But these were not his most memorable features. Once Cervantes in one of his descriptions of famous Don Quixote after his long journeys mentioned that his cheeks were as if stuck together in his mouth. Only it was all excusable and clear with the Hidalgo from Lamancha but it was quite a mystery how Mr Crookins got such cheeks. When Lady Rosamund was really bored and angry (This man wasn't really very interesting and pleasant, so about the frequency of these fits of anger we may only guess.), she used to draw caricatures and write epigrams against poor Mr Crookins. In her collection there were already "Mr Crookins, the slippery fish", "Mr Crookins, the study rat", an acrostic with his name and many other interesting examples. All these works she gathered in a special collection, which she called "The forbidden angry book". Though Miss Rosie was sometimes really malicious, she was brought up like a lady and by her own nature was very polite. What she was drawing you could have guessed only by strange sparks in her eyes. Jenny was quite another story. When she wanted to laugh, she laughed with all of her might. At such outbursts of neighing Mr Crookins would think: "These silly women. I should ask Lord Vernon a pay rise for it". But joking apart, this study rat could hit an apple from ten paces. But quite another mood accompanied Rosie for the most of the journey. In her soul she recalled Beethoven's "The moon sonata". All her condition and state of mind were melancholy. She almost always was looking into a carriage window. By it ran various picturesque English landscapes. Golden beams of July sun generously fell on this old Earth with young nature on it. The light was reflected in each emerald leaf, grass, glassy stream... These trees waltzing with wind... Fragrant green meadows of the countryside, swaying cereal fields that bowed and paid tribute to their ancient mother, the heavenly star of the day... Rosie was a child of a city, of its civilization and comfort. Each time when she left it she couldn't find this harmony with nature, her piece in it. The emperor Convenience is not for this great reign of freedom, where everyone is equal to survive. No, before she was just an indoor plant and not the part of it. By then things had changed... The girl was leaving all city vanity and bustle with human ambitions, passions and competition. In nature she tried to melt, to rest with it, to cure her spiritual wounds. She contemplated this rejoicing of superhuman elements, tried to forget herself in it. Then trailed cool white fogs, such as unclear as her future, and whining crying rains, that made everything damp and country roads - impassable. Jenny tried to merry her up with her endless chatters, to support her with an idea that Dellis would find her and take her away. It was unbearable then for her to hear his name. Was it all true, real? She thought back about their last meeting in the park, the expression of his face... He definitely loved her but was her own love real? She fought for it not a little bit and at once surrendered. Was she worthy of it? No, as said her mother, it was just forgetfulness, alas, the one that is not cured out quickly and very painful. Here far away she should find her piece and understand herself at last. She would forget this bad dream but if not, she would learn to bury her feeling very deep, live with it and just get used to it. Here in this text is a very appropriate quote from a famous poem by Pushkin, the Russian genius of poetry: A habit is the Heaven's grace, For us it will happiness replace... (A humble translation by your modest friend) Well, of course, Rosie couldn't know it and yet this may have become her first rule for the latest time. She was leaving her first pains and love behind and with becoming the predecessor of Byron s Don Juan, who being on the ship and getting away from his native Spain didn t know that and what even greater adventures were awaiting him. But she should think about her future and ergo once when Mr Crookins stepped away for a while she took a word from Jenny not to pronounce in her presence the name of Dellis. That s how romanticism is defeated by realism. She couldn t wait the reaching to their point of destination. During this long journey she had thought so many things over. She had already exhausted herself so much… But they rode and rode and this way seemed to be endless. First waiting was painful, then became rather nervous and after it unbearable. But by the end of this journey she just got used to it as if it had been her whole life. When they came at last she was so shocked as if she had been torn away from her habitat. But to say the truth, the arrival was really ill-timed…