SHE'S GONE TO BATH.

BY GREENSLEEVES.

BETTY opened the door.

"Please, ma'am, she's gone to Bath.

The tea-table rose en masse.

"Gone to Bath!" echoed the party, amazed, and for three mortal seconds the tea-table was dumb. Nature could stand it no longer; the prisoned members broke loose, and the air was rent with exclamations and apostrophes.

"Well!" "There!" "Now!" "Could you!"

"I always thought it! I always said it! I always knew it!" said a little sharp-featured woman, striking the table forcibly at each announcement.

"Hush!" cried the lady of the house; but she cried in vain. All spoke; no one listened certainly not the best way to gratify curiosity, or gain information. The stronger minds seemed suddenly struck with this conviction. "Hush!" cried they, and they made signs, nodded, opened their mouths, and pointed to Betty. The pantomime succeeded; all eyes were turned upon the round red face; all tongues attacked its owner.

"Are you sure?” "Did you listen?" "Looks stupid!" "And, may be, fibs!"

"Can she be trusted?"

Betty had not her rival in S******. She was housemaid, parlourmaid, laundry-maid, lady's-maid rolled up in one: the best cook and the kindest nurse in the parish, too. Betty was a treasure; Betty was a favourite: Betty was aware of it, and-Betty was saucy. Her mistress, old, weak, and a little fidgety, would have doubled her wages rather than lose her.

Betty heard the "impident observations," twirled the doorhandle, and gazed stolidly at the bald mandarin on the mantel

shelf.

"You don't speak, woman," exclaimed the vivacious lady who had so oracularly declared her intelligence.

"I ain't no woman at all, Mrs. Wiper," said Betty, exploding. "I ain't so stoopid as some folks think; I never tells no lies; and, thank my granny as larnt me better, I knows it ain't genteel to talk when somebody else is speakin'."

"What's that she says?"

"Did you ever!"

"Such a very extraordinary licence of speech!"

"Hold your tongue, Betty," prayed Mrs. Willetts; "it's only her way; and, to be sure, I never knew her to make a mistake. Who did you see, Betty?"

"The old lady."

"Mrs. Maunder ?"

"There ain't no other old lady at Helen Cottage as I know on.” "Not now, certainly, Betty," interposed her mistress; "but, remember that common courtesy-"

"I never was no hand at curtseyin'," muttered Betty, dropping an awkward bob; "Granny took a world o' pains a learnin' me, but I can't do no better."

"You may withdraw, Betty," said her mistress, mildly; "when I ring, bring up the kettle."

Betty was gone off" without leave."

"An oddish temper, but so faithful and trustworthy," remarked old Mrs. Willetts; "and then she can't bear, poor thing! to be checked by any one but myself." She glanced rather resentfully at Mrs. Viper.

"Check her, my dear Mrs. W.! I caught your look, and I call these ladies to witness I only dubbed her woman; and, upon my word, under our present excitement, I cannot see any great harm in the phrase. But who's that?"

There was an impatient knock at the street door: two ladies ran to the window and peeped over the blinds.

"Miss Cramshaw!" cried they, in ecstasy.

The door was opened. Miss Cramshaw rushed into the room. "Have you heard it?" gasped she. The tea-table sprung up. "Yes!-no!-what?" cried the members.

"Gone to Bath!-and I met her yesterday, asked her how she did, and she never hinted it!" Miss Cramshaw spread out her hands, then her eyes up to the ceiling, and herself into a chair.

"Very surprising !" quavered Mrs. Willetts, Betty went to the cottage this afternoon and saw old Mrs. Maunder. 'Where's Miss Danvers?' said Betty. 'Gone to Bath,' said the old lady."

"The very thing that she told me. I saw her watering her geraniums as I passed by; 'Where's your niece?' said I. 'Gone to Bath,' stammered she. 'Gone to Bath!' said I; 'bless me! how sudden !'-'Ay,' said the old dame. And she bent her head aside, and put her hand up to her ear;-a trick only; how sudden,' said I. Lor', is it?' mumbled the old lady; 'well, I thought it was rather chilly.' Stuff! said I, but I saw at a glance the thing was mum! for the old lady went into the cottage and shut the door. Let the cat out of the bag, plain enough."

6

Miss Cramshaw squinted and looked wise.

"Ah!" sighed Mrs. Spoonbill, a matron whose daughter hung on hand, "this is a warning for George Benson: he shall know it, please God. My Mary Anne never could bear that Miss Danvers. Mamma,' says she, 'she's so artful, and such a flirt! If you'd seen, ladies, how the hussy angles for George-I'm sure it's shameful!"

"I always foresaw how it would end," cried Mrs. Viper, whose volubility bore down all before her; "such extravagance,-such folly such absolute disregard of-I may almost say common honesty. First, to rent an elegant little cottage fit only for gentle

folks."

Old Mrs. Willetts shook her head and took snuff. dent!" chorussed the ladies.

"Very impru

"Imprudent!-UNPRINCIPLED!" retorted the censor; "had she money in hand-a husband—a shop-or means to pay for it? No! What is she? a poor officer's daughter. What is her aunt ?—a purser's widow. They 've nothing between them,-nothing at all to live on."

"Mrs. Maunder has a pension," ventured a good-natured young lady, hitherto silent.

"A pension-fiddlestick!" cried Mrs. Viper, snapping her fingers, "I wouldn't give that for it: Viper gets more in fees in a summermonth. I wonder they 're not ashamed to go on as they do! Rent a beautiful house, buy furniture, carpets, and chairs, and tables, and mirrors. I never heard of such infamous proceedings." The lady's rapid enunciation exhausted her breath.

"Possibly they hope to increase their income by boarders," suggested the good-natured young lady.

"Do they, Miss Vernon,-hum! And what right have strangers to come to this favourite watering-place and rob the old inhabitants of their profits and the preference due to them? I've been unlet half the season, so has Mrs. Swasher, and poor Miss Agrimony."

"If she's gone to Bath, it's to be hoped she 'll stay," said Mrs. Spoonbill.

"Gone to Bath," sneered Mrs. Viper; "ah! that's the end of it, -that's the wind up and finale. A fortnight ago, had in a new sofa covered with green velvet, carved à la renaissance,—last week I saw a large chimney glass go up to the cottage, neat, gold and burnished. Lord knows what price: and no later than Monday, a dozen fashionable chairs, that I'm sure Viper couldn't afford me, and the influenza raging. I knew how it would end; and as to George Benson —"

"He's a fool, that's all," snarled Mrs. Spoonbill.

"It's a sad thing," sighed Mrs. Willetts, tapping her snuff-box. "Sad! it's shocking. Philips sent in his bill three months ago; the baker received a promise instead of payment; and as to Bull the butcher, I pity the man! he's a sick wife and eleven children." "Is Miss Danvers in his debt?" asked the good-natured young lady; "I was told she paid ready money."

66

Ready money," hissed Mrs. Viper; "I don't think much of that coin passes into her hands, and of course it would be hard to expect it to pass out. Why, she's not let her apartments or had a boarder, to my certain knowledge, these six months." "Six months!" said the good-natured young lady; "who was the Mrs. Mountjoy that went away last week, after staying the summer?"

"A friend, I believe; one that paid nothing, or next to nothing, as friends mostly do. George Benson was always going in and out of the house then; one would have thought he was paying court to the old lady instead of the young one."

"But who was she? she had the manners and appearance of a gentlewoman."

"Nobody knows and nobody cares, I dare say," cried Mrs. Viper. "She was a very unpleasant, sharp, satirical old woman, I'm sure. Visited nobody-spoke to nobody; and always eyed them as if they were dirt."

"She took the wall of me twice," said Mrs. Spoonbill: "and was

very high and mighty, when my Mary Ann looked over her shoulder as she was reading on the sands."

"I can't say but that I liked the look of the old lady; a little stately perhaps; but I liked her the better for that," observed Mrs. Willetts, in a quiet tone.

"I remember meeting her near the Castle, leaning on George Benson's arm," said Miss Vernon; "she had an ebony crutch-stick in her hand, and as she passed, it caught in my skirt and tore the flounce; the old lady stopped and spoke to me, apologising for the accident, and her voice, though a little tremulous with age, was so sweet, her regard so kind, and her manner so gracious, that I have thought of them ever since."

Mrs. Viper laughed derisively: Mrs. Spoonbill imitated her.

"Very romantic, Miss Vernon," said the former; "quite an incident and a picture. Perhaps the old lady happened to know that you're an only child, and has a son she wishes to settle."

"No, no, Mary," cried Mrs. Willetts, shaking her head; "Mary will not forget my poor Dick, though he's far away. God bless

him!"

Mary Vernon blushed, but cast her young eyes so assuringly, yet timidly on the speaker, that all fear of a rival for “ poor Dick was laid at rest.

That Miss Danvers could not meet her engagements, and was furtively gone off to Bath in the hope of evading her creditors, was carried by a majority. What the landlord would do what the tradesmen would do, and what Goody Maunder would do, were about to be canvassed, when the street bell rang.

"That's the butcher with a sweetbread," said Mrs. Willetts; "I saw him pass the window."

"Have him in," cried Mrs. Viper, "it would be only Christian to warn him."

"Bull was shewn in, and, making his best bow, stood close to the door, cap-in-hand.

"We wished to see you, Bull," began Mrs. Viper, very readily. "Yes, ma'am," said the butcher.

"We wish you well, Bull." Bull "made a leg." "And, from a pure feeling of charity tell you that Miss Danvers is gone to Bath." "Gone to Bath, is she, ma'am ; Lord love her pretty face! she's a sweet young lady," wheezed Bull, with a ray of animation in his huge ox-eye. There was some surprise.

"Do you understand, Bull? SHE'S GONE TO BATH," said Mrs. Viper, laying extraordinary emphasis on the words.

"To Bath-mind TO BATH," chorussed the rest of the company, always excepting the good-natured young lady.

"To drink the waters ?" said stupid Bull; "much good may it do her, ma'am ; she's as fair spoken a young lady as ever I had to deal with."

66

"Soft words butter no parsnips," cried Mrs. Spoonbill, forgetting her gentility of speech. My Mary Ann hates palaver." "Allow me to speak, Mrs. Spoonbill, if you please," said Mrs. Viper, with dignity. "Fair speaking is one thing, Bull, but fair dealing's another. You're a man saddled with a sick wife and eleven children, all hearty four-meals-a-day boys, I believe?"

Just so, ma'am," sighed the puzzled butcher.

"You ought to know your duty."

"I humbly hope I do, ma'am," cried Bull, still more perplexed; "I fear God and honour the queen; damn the French, and go to church of a Sunday; pay tithes and taxes, send the young 'uns to school, keep a nuss to wait on my missis, and never backbite nobody."

"Bless me! how intensely stupid you are, Bull," screamed Mrs. Viper. "Miss Danvers, I tell you, is GONE TO BATH.”

"What's that to me, ma'am?" said Bull, growing surly.

"Doesn't she owe you money?-basn't she run a long bill with you?-isn't she gone to Bath?-and do you flatter yourself she'll come back to pay you, eh?"

"In course, Mrs. Viper," said Bull, "when a customer's honourably paid a bill once, he's a d-d rogue that hopes to get it twice. Beg pardon, ladies, Miss Danvers paid me yesterday morning a little bill she owed me, and what's more gave young Bob a shilling. Any orders, ladies? Good evening, Mrs. Willetts-Mrs. Viper, your

sarvant."

Bull rolled out of the room, and shut the street-door rather roughly after him.

"Paid him!-well I'm sure!-Miss Danvers paid him!-can't believe it!-very odd!"

Another ring: Betty came in.

"Please, ma'am, Mister Philips is stepped up to know if you'll have the cabinet, as a lady thinks of taking it if you don't." "Tell Philips I don't wish it," said Mrs. Willetts.

66 'let

"Goodness me! don't send him away," cried Mrs. Viper; him come in, my dear Mrs. W. Good evening, Mr. Philips: how is Miss Philips?

"Quite charming, Mrs. Viper," smirked the upholsterer. "I hope I see you well, ladies," and he swept off his hat, and bowed all round, "quite charming, I thank you."

"By the bye those were uncommon stylish chairs you sent in yesterday to Elm Cottage."

"A slap-up article, ladies, London-made-solid rosewood-silk damask, nine-and-threepence a yard."

Up went the hands, eyes, and noses of the majority.

"And the sofa, you sent that in, too?"

"I did, ma'am ; very handsome thing. Genoa velvet-all carved -light and tasteful, yet durable as steel,"

"I am truly sorry, Philips."

"The chimney glass!" squealed Mrs. Spoonbill: "my Mary Ann took particular notice of that."

"Ah! that," said Philips, "Ashby supplied; I had not one large enough-magnificent plate from Ravenhead, sixty inches by thirty-six-matchless frame-splendidly moulded."

"Hum! ha! upon my word, she has grand notions," writhed Mrs. Viper; "but are you and Mr. Ashby aware that Miss Danvers has gone to Bath?"

"Gone to Bath!" shrieked all but the good-natured young lady and old Mrs. Willetts.

"Gone to Bath!" said Philips, very tranquilly.

Yes, gone to Bath! suddenly and secretly. Don't look as if it meant nothing-the thing means much-it speaks volumes-folios,