The Purser's Daughter: and other tales

Front matter

THE PURSER'S DAUGHTER AND OTHER TALES THE PURSER'S DAUGHTER AND OTHER TALES BY MRS. SANDEES LONDON TINSLEY BROTHERS, 8. CATHERINE STREET, STRAND 1875 [All Sights Reserved] PRINTED BY TAYLOR AND CO., LITTLE QUEEN STREET, LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS. CONTENTS. PAGE THE PURSER'S DAUGHTER 1 FOUND OUT 87 NIL DESPERANDUM 123 A LIFE'S MISTAKE THE PUESEE'S DAUGHTEE CHAPTEE I. Captain Moses Brown, as he liked to be called, though he had no right in the world to the appellation of captain, really being only purser of a man-of war, was a respectable man in his way, rough as a Polar bear, using at times most forcible language, quite unfit for ears polite, apt to indulge when at home in violent passions, still, honest and trustworthy, fulfilling all the duties of the situation in which Pro vidence had placed him, to the perfect satisfaction of his superior officers and the ship's company generally.

To look at this rough specimen of the genus homo, you would hardly have thought it possible for this man ever to have felt the tender passion of love ; you could never have fancied he could in any sort of way B have framed that rough voice of his to a tender tone, have ever been in a melting mood, or that he could ever have asked a beautiful woman to love him and become his wife ; yet once when on shore a longer period than usual he married, for when my story begins he was a widower with two daughters. The eldest, Beatrice, was a fine handsome girl, with large dark eyes, a nose which betrayed, however remote and mixed with other races, that she originally sprang from Jewish origin ; a large mouth, with a good-humoured expression of countenance, but with nothing show ing much intellect. You have now before you Beatrice Brown.

I ought perhaps to add, she was rather above than below the middle height. One evening her father hearing her sing a little childish song, in a tolerable tune, voice, and time, for her age, resolved that she should be taught music as a profession. It was a sad day for the little girl when he took this determination, for adieu to all her pretty dolls, her playthings, donkey-rides, etc. ; music was now to be the order of the day, and as long as it was possible to keep a young child of her age practising music and singing, was now the doom of poor little Beatrice ; any complaints made by her instructors were puuished by her father, with the utmost severity, in which he was ably seconded by a maiden aunt, his half sister, Miss Abigail Flint, who, when Captain Brown's engage ments took him to sea, enforced all his orders reo 3 specting his eldest daughter's musical education in the most stringent manner.

Chapter II

The next morning at the breakfast hour, Captain Brown very plainly informed his daughter of the verdict of the musical critics on her singing ; it was not nearly as favourable a one as he had hoped ; they said she had a rather powerful voice, a louder one than a lady usually possesses, but there must have been great negligence in her practising or of her teaching, as there was a frequent want of correctness in the notes she sang. " So now, miss," and the Captain did look severe, "practise you shall, much more frequently, and you must take likewise greater pains than you have hitherto done ; mind, I will be obeyed or it will be the worst for you." Beatrice cried and trembled, for wellsheremembered many acts of severity she had had to endure. When she was calmer, Captain Brown continued, " Also there is a lack of sweet notes in your voice.

To supply this deficiency I have been advised to take you to the soft air of Italy ; and, as I am determined nothing shall be omitted on my part to complete your musical education, I have made up my mind to the expense of taking you there, and trying if that country, so famous for improving and ameliorating harsh singing, frequently rendering the human voice flute-like and extremely harmonious, may not supply what is failing in yours ; but remem ber, Betty, you must really use your best endeavours, it is no use piping your eyes : do you remember the story of Malibran's great success with the public ? In spite of her magnificent voice, she often made one great mistake in a particular note, which greatly offended the fine taste of her musical father; at length so enraged was he at not being able to cure her of this defect, that he vowed the very next time he caught her so tripping, he would cut her throat.

One night at the opera she again transgressed. In accidentally turning round, her quick eye caught sight of her father standing at the side scene with an open knife in his hand, with a furious look and me nacing gesture, ready to receive her on her exit. So terrified was Malibran, that her scream of natural terror brought forth such high notes, and no doubt many very sweet ones, that her success was complete after that night. I do not say I will either stab you or cut your throat, but, mark my words, if I catch you idle or not trying your hardest in Italy, I promise you a rare good thrashing, and no mistake." So saying, the Captain went to arrange about giving up the tenancy of his small house in the suburbs of London, and soon after father and daughter left England for the sunnier climate of the South.

A long and tedious journey, aud they arrived at Leghorn, and soon after at Sienna, where it had been settled before leaving England they should locate themselves at the house of La Signora Angelina Giiibelletti, a widow, and distant relative of Signor Romano's, whose son, being now at home on account of delicacy of health, would also be an advantage. " For the Signor," he added, " would, most likely, for a very small consideration, instruct La Signorina Beatrice ; no one could do it better." The Captain and his daughter found themselves comfortably lodged at La Signora Giubelletti's sunny house : to the gentleman she gave a most comfortable bed-room on the ground-floor, while Beatrice had her youthful wishes gratified by possessing a much larger apartment than she had ever before enjoyed all to herself, with a bed, etc., in an alcove, behind a curtain, which could at pleasure be drawn, so forming a very pleasant sitting-room ; the prospect from the windows was also a most lively one.

In addition to these rooms, the Browns were allowed the privilege of sitting, when they liked it, in the public drawing room. The meals were taken with the family and the other lodgers, in the dining-room. Beatrice's musical instruction commenced soon after her arrival. Captain Brown was frequently present during these lessons. Her new master was most attentive and painstaking in his instructions, often watching her practising. She did her best, fearing her father's angry frowns when she made the slightest mistake. Occasionally she was taken to see the far-famed beautiful Florence, and to the opera to improve her ear, which was, to tell the truth, a little faulty. The young girl, on the whole, enjoyed herself at Sienna, which is a pretty place, but being situated on the declivity of a mountain, the streets are very steep, and it is one continual going up and down hill.

There is much to see ; some of the churches are well worth a visit ; the marble fountain in Piazzo del Campo is very curious, and the wolf on the granite column near it is interesting from the legend attached to it of its being the representation of the one who suckled Romulus and Remus ; there are also many fine public buildings. Beatrice was taken many pleasant walks by her father, and shown all that was worth seeing, though still obliged to devote many hours a day to an accom plishment she did not like, and in which she could not take that interest which would have been the most likely means for her to have excelled in it ; yet still, Beatrice, like most young girls, was delighted with the novelty of being abroad, and the immense change of scene from London to Sienna ; also she was now free of the burden of housekeeping, which had kept her in a constant state of agitation and alarm since Judith's marriage had taken place, and the reins of domestic management had been handed over to her.

She had been very heedless, constantly forgetting her father's orders respecting some favourite dish, or spoiling it in the prepara tion, so that at their English home the dinner hour was one continued scene of terrific explosions of anger on the Captain's part ; tears, trembling excuses, and promises of more attention for the future on Beatrice's. Now, all this misery was at last at an end. II Signor Alberto Giubelletti was a more gentle, good-natured master than her late one ; his mother, La Signora, was kind and obliging, most anxious to meet the wishes and please the tastes of the various inmates. With all this, it is not there fore surprising that the exchange from the smoky atmosphere of London to that of the pure air of Italy was not a little exhilarating to Beatrice's youthful spirits.

One bright sunny day, in the beginning of Febru ary, when all looked gay and cheerful, giving the pro mise of an early spring, Beatrice stole away from her daily practising of music and, book in hand, en sconced herself in the recess of her warm bed-room window, basking herself iu the pleasant sunshine. Her father had gone to Florence for the day, II Sig nor Giubelletti was ill, so she could fearlessly give herself up to the idle pleasure of watching the many passers-by. Many she saw, about whom she did not care in the least, saw nothing in them at all interesting; but after sitting an hour thus amusing herself, she observed a young officer ride past, his horse suddenly starting just as he approached the window where Beatrice sat. Their eyes met, and, with this quick exchange of glances, she caught one of evident admiration, from such a pair of beautiful, dark, expressive eyes, as only Italy can produce : he bowed, and continued on his way.

Beatrice knew it was wrong, thus to look at and return the salutation of a perfect stranger, but still she did it; and, in the secret recess of her youthful heart, there lurked an ardent wish to see the stranger of the bright eyes again.

Chapter III

A few days after this occurrence, Beatrice was asked one morning by La Signora Giubelletti if she would like to accompany her that evening to a concert, having just had two tickets given her ; she regretted she had not another to offer the Captain. No objection was made, many thanks given, and Beatrice was only too happy to have this amusement, and escape the constant weary, long games of backgammon and draughts, that she was always called upon to play with her father, to amuse him on those evenings he spent at home. Beatrice devoted some time to arranging her glossy dark hair in the most becoming manner ; she tried various different ways before she was quite satis fied with the effect produced. Then she looked over her wardrobe, which, it must be confessed, was but a scanty one ; at last she chose a rather handsome black silk dress.

To relieve this dark colour, she placed some crimson velvet in her hair, fastened her small lace collar with her best broach, and throwing over her shoulders a white cashmere opera cloak, like wise trimmed with crimson, Judith's parting gift, she left with La Signora for the concert. They arrived early, but a short time after the con cert had commenced she perceived the handsome officer enter, and she could plainly see he looked much at her. During a short interval, while the performers rested after their labours, Beatrice saw him bow to her chaperon, who, returning it, offered him a vacant seat by her side ; thus was Beatrice introduced to the young stranger by the name of Antonio Fiengo. He was, she found, a lieutenant in an infantry regiment, the head-quarters being at Florence ; he was on detachment with his company at Sienna.

Delighted was the young girl to become a little acquainted with this good-looking Italian. Still, a6 it is not the custom abroad for a young gen tleman to converse with a young unmarried lady, very few words passed between them ; but there is in all countries the mute language of the eyes, and, as has been said before, Antonio possessed a pair of most expressive ones, with all the fire, and yet at times all the melting softness so peculiar to the south. After this, Beatrice met Antonio with La Siguora twice in coming out of the beautiful cathedral, where they had gone for early mass : he joined them there. Also one day when she was shopping with Bettina (La Signora's active maid) ; though ou this last occasion he only bowed, he yet contrived, unseen by the maid, to slip into her hand a tiny note.

To rush up into her room was the affair of a moment to the young girl ; she read it with eager eyes and a beating heart. It was an ardent request that she would meet him the next morning at a tolerably early hour at a public walk in Sienna, at that hour generally deserted ; but to conform to Italian customs, of which, as he expressed it, in his own flowery language, as a beautiful English girl she might be totally ignorant, it would be as well if she brought a servant with her. She then remembered having heard that even affianced lovers, with the full consent of their parents, never meet without the presence either of a mother, grandmother, or some discreet female relative, to afford a proper protection to the betrothed. Beatrice felt most agitated at the reading of these few which, the help of a dictionary and the little Italian she had already learnt, enabled her pretty well to comprehend.

The next morning she remembered her father mentioning his intention of going out for the day with some friends, so one grand difficulty was removed ; but then arose the question in her mind, ought she to meet a youug man whom she had seen but a few times, with whom she had so slender an acquaintance, and that principally consist ing of looks of admiration; certainly La Signora Giubelletti had spoken well of him, as they returned the evening of the concert, saying she had known him from a child ; he was always amiable, and bore a good character in Sienna. She had likewise known his mother many years ago, but still neither Beatrice nor her father were really acquainted with him ; to the latter he was a perfect stranger. It, however, must be remembered as some palliation of this girl's impru dence, that her mother had died when her daughters were still very young.

Beatrice had never known a mother's tender care, or those wise gentle admoni tions in riper years that can never be so kindly given, or so well received as from a mother. A mother whom we have loved from our earliest infancy, we must believe her and obey her ; other people's counsel and advice, however good and well meant, we too often set at nought. Over this little note Bea trice paused long and thoughtfully. With her outward garments removed, her magnifi cent dark hair escaping from the comb which fastened it falling in luxuriant tresses around her well-formed throat, her dreamy yet tender upturned look, she would have made a charming study for a painter. At last, after much deliberation, she considered she c would, she must, agree to this interview. How she wished she had dear Judith by her side ! but then not unlikely she would pronounce a most decided negative on her wishes.

Then came the puzzling ques tion, who could she take with her to this stolen meeting, for maid she had none, and even could Bettina have been spared at that hour, which she well knew she could not be, she would hardly like to intrust her secret to a strange servant, and that ser vant another's. At length she recollected a little girl of perhaps twelve, who for Italy was rather respectably dressed, upon the whole a genteel-looking girl, at the circulating library * where she sometimes hired a few French volumes, and occasionally an English one, of a light amusing kind ; this girl she thought it just possible she might be able to hire for a short time. The breakfast hour was nine, therefore Beatrice fancied she might be able 'to arrange her intended project, as she was allowed to walk out short * This library, situated in the Piazza Santa Trinita, was formerly an hotel, remarkable for being the scene of the tragic adventure of the maid and the magpie, which forms the plot of ' La Gazza Ladra.' In the real tale the lady had her valuable pearl necklace stolen by the magpie flying in at the window, who carried it to her nest at the top of a high column opposite the hotel, where, a long time after the execution of the poor maid, accused and found guilty of the theft, it was discovered in the scales of justice, when illuminating the column at a time o_f public rejoicing. distances alone.

It was her first love affair, Antonio was her first admirer, this the first note she had ever received from any young man, so some slight excuse may be made for her. Had she had any kind female friend or relative near her, I make no doubt, although she might not formally have asked their advice, yet still she would have possibly related this affair to them, and very likely have listened to some kind word of womanly counsel, and might perhaps have been frightened from her now fixed purpose of meeting a young man of whom she actually knew so little, and who had probably little else but a fine pair of dark eyes, and a good figure to recommend him to a fair lady's notice. The note spoke of trying so to gain her favour, that after a time he might please her sufficiently to win her as his bride.

Independent of any love-sick, girlish fancies, the idea of marriage was most pleasing to Beatrice, for since their residence in Italy she had only felt a still more decided repug nance than ever to the operatic life carved out for her by her father. Music was no real pleasure to her, she never felt like those persons to whom it is an all absorbing delight. There are people who can sit en tranced over the notes of some beautiful air; who can remain for hours spell-bound, realising in music the most charming images of poetry, or composing beautiful variations, forgetting time, hunger, everything, over their all-absorbing occupation. Beatrice c2 felt not one iota of this ; she learnt her lessons, vocal and instrumental, as a task, and having played her allotted time, was only too pleased to run like a child to her book or fancy work.

She found her dislike to her future public life increase daily ; one day she had even endeavoured to alter her father's firm determina tion as regarded her musical career. Bracing up her nerves, she informed him of her great dislike to become a public singer. She was quickly silenced by his angry tones and loud voice : " Well, Betty " (so he spoiled her pretty name), " you must be a greater goose than ever I took you for ; after all the trouble I have had with you, having but one end in view, having spent lots of good money upon masters to teach you your do-re-me-fas, a pretty round sum first and last I can tell you, and my money was hardly earned too ; and now this journey to Italy, all under taken for your voice — can you for one minute think that I could agree to this sad waste of time and money ?

No, it is but fair now that I should have some return for what I have spent. I have had much trouble to keep you to your practice, and now you want me to sacrifice everything to your absurd whims, all I have laid out in hope of future gain to be a dead loss to me. What uncommon fools girls are ! I must have no more such childish nonsense ! you will of course do as you are bid ; you will find a singer's a very pleasant life, and if ever you have the good luck to become a prima donna, our fortune will be made ; your life will then be one great success." Beatrice dared not speak any more upon this subject to her father, she saw that any further endeavours to shake his resolution would be worse than fruitless, and only expose her to angry reproaches, but her own wishes remained the same ; therefore in marriage, and in marriage alone, could she see any escape from the life in store for her, a life she was sure she should hate.

The interview took place at the appointed hour. As a great favour, for a very small consideration, she was allowed to hire Paulina, the little girl she had remarked at the library, for an hour. No sooner had Beatrice reached the walk named, than she saw Antonio holding a lovely bouquet in his hand, which he presented to her, profusely rendering her a thousand thanks, uttered in the soft pretty words of his own language, expressing his deep-felt gratitude for the great honour she had so kindly conferred on him by giving him this meeting. How long this interview would have lasted it is impossible to say, had they not been interrupted by Paulina telling them she was sure the hour was nearly spent, and the Padrone would be inquiring after her. This of course brought all this pleasant meeting to an abrupt termination.

As a matter of precaution, they each walked off in different directions, but before they parted they had agreed to meet when possible. This on Beatrice's side was a very difficult matter to arrange ; it was, however, settled that every morning at about halfpast nine, when the movements of her father and the plans of the day would be pretty well known, she was to place a single flower in a niche of the open window of her bedroom, if she believed she could give Antonio a meeting. If impossible, no flower was to appear ; she was generally in her room at this hour, breakfast being then finished.

Chapter IV

The winters in Italy are mild generally and of short duration. The Browns were favoured by many sun shiny days, at times however interspersed with cold ones ; for sometimes a bitter piercing wind prevails, called the Tramontana. When it blows, those who brave it dress warmly, pulling up the collars of their cloaks to protect them from its fury. Occasionally, as the weather permitted, Captain Brown's engage ments took him to Florence, where he was sometimes tempted to pass a couple of days, or now and then he went long excursions into the country about Sienna ; all these opportunities were embraced by Beatrice. On the mornings her father mentioned his intention of leaving Sienna for one of these various, before spoken' of, wanderings from home, where at least he was safe for the day, the flower was regularly put in the window, and the interview between the lovers took place.

It was not long before Beatrice confided to Antonio the fixed determination of her father, that as soon as her musical education was completed, and competent judges deemed it prudent, he intended to bring her out on the stage at Florence, Milan, or whatever city offered the most likely means of suc cess. She of course mentioned her great repug nance to this plan of her father's ; she was quite certain, she added, she should be most miserable to lead such a life ; she also related how she had endeavoured to shake her father's stern resolve, but that it had been all in vain. To all this Antonio lent an attentive ear. Though young, he was cautious ; like his countrymen he was crafty, calculating, and fond of making money. Even into a love affair, did this young man carry out his powers of calculation, and he summed up quietly to himself what profit hereafter Beatrice's voice might prove to him ; however, he saw now he must dissimulate, it would be time enough to mention his future plans when she became his wife.

So now, in the sweetest tones, he gave her all the consolation and sympathy she required in the gloomy anticipations she had expressed as to her future musical career. " Carissima," he would exclaim with the utmost fervour, in spite of all his secret feelings in favour of the Captain's plan, only altering the person who was thereby to be benefited by it, " carissima, if you will consent, if I can be so far fortunate as to be able to persuade you to become my cara sposa, never shall you, my little darling, fear being dragged against your own will upon the stage of an opera-house. Beatrice, carissima, you shall only play for your own pleasure, when so inclined, and to delight my dear mother and myself with your bellissima voce ; " adding, his mother would indeed be in raptures with the charming English Signorina.

" Honpleased she would be with such a daughter ! " Then, as to himself, he vowed with all a lover's rapture to adore her all the days of his life, with a deep and passionate devotion such as could never be felt by any cold Englishman ; then, instead of returning to live in the chilly fogs of barbarous London, she should dwell with him in Italy's sunny clime ; he would teach her his own melodious language, fit sounds to be uttered by her own pretty rosy mouth ; the natural sweet words, he added, would be softened by falling from such lips. Of course the usual amount of nonsense was spoken by this youthful pair, on these occasions, that always have been, and probably always will be spoken in all ages by lovers. After each interview Beatrice felt herself becoming still more delighted with Antonio's society.

Such a strong hold had he already taken upon her affections, that, hopeless as she knew it would be to ask her father's consent to her marriage, or to mention in any way the affair to him, which she knew would only have the effect of putting him into a violent rage, and his preventing most likely any further intercourse between herself and Antonio — yet hopeless, therefore, as she knew her case to be, she never denied herself the pleasure of a stolen meeting whenever possible ; nor did she place the slightest check over her own feelings ; in her headstrong love she totally forgot the natural and proper duty due from a child to a parent ; still, in spite of her fears, and real fears they were, Beatrice felt very happy, an exquisite glamour was thrown over her whole life, everything now appeared to her with une couleur de rose aspect.

Love greatly adds to female beauty, often even rendering plain women pretty, at least for a time ; if, therefore, Beatrice was handsome before, she was doubly so now. Never had her brilliant eyes looked so sparkling, or the rich red and creamy whiteness of her complexion looked so lovely. Just when she was as to outward appearance grown most attractive, Captain Brown was unexpectedly called to Ireland upon business that admitted of no delay. He was therefore obliged to leave his daughter in Italy for the continuation of her musical studies. The Purser's Datighter. Before his departure the Captain informed Beatrice that he had made every necessary arrangement to facilitate her obtaining an engagement at the best opera-house in Florence, but of course much would depend upon the verdict given by II Signor A , the musical director to the manager of the said house, whose opinion was all powerful.

He had promised to come over one day soon to hear her sing ; he regretted that he should then be absent ; of course, no important steps towards an engagement could take place, should she be lucky enough to please the director, till the Captain's return to Italy. She must therefore see the absolute necessity of re doubling her usual endeavours, so that she might satisfy the correct ear of II Signor. He was quite sure if she wished to please her father she would do this, and the director would be perfectly contented with her vocal powers ; so pleased perhaps as either to offer her an engagement, or at least a trial. It would, added Captain Brown, be a proud day for him, when he saw his owu little Betty upon the stage of the grand opera; she should indeed have some beautiful smart dresses for the occasion.

How he should like to hear her pipe her pretty voice amongst the finest of the Italian singers ! " and you yourself," contiuued he, " would like well enough to be encored and applauded. Many fine big nosegays would be thrown at your head, such as would last you in sweet smells for a month at least; now and then they would perhaps throw even a glittering bracelet, aud trinkum-traukum ormolu trifles ; perhaps some real gold things at your feet, such as you women delight in. You might get up to the top of the tree, and be so applauded, you would be the queen of the evening." So saying, Captain Brown gave his daughter a hearty embrace, bid her be good and study her music well, and left this young girl alone in a foreign country. Certainly he had not the most distant idea of her possessing even the shadow of a lover, far less that she had not only a lover, but had had many stolen meetings with him.