Rensselaer Union, Volume 8, Number 19, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 27 January 1876 — SUSAN’S MISTAKE. [ARTICLE]

SUSAN’S MISTAKE.

Among all the trim housemaids in Bloomsbury not one could compare with Susan Biffin, who had the privilege of being a servitor in the mansion of Mr. Jobbins, Alderman and tallow-chandler, of the city of London. Not only did Busan excel in the neatness of her dress and the cheerfulness with which she performed her duties, but she also carried off the patm with respect to personal appearance,*Sb would have been admitted by anyone who observed her pouting mouth, ruddy cheeks, bright, full, black eyes, and the pleasant smile which constantly shed light over her features and helped to enhance the charms with which nature had endowed her. Susan Biflin was an extremely well-con. ducted girl and knew more than most people in her station of life, inasmuch as her parents (now dead) had been respectable tradesfolk who, in the latter portion of their life, had fallen into difficulties, but had taken care that, despite the wrecking of their worldly prospects, the education of their only child should not be neglected. Thus much for Susan’s advantages; now let us look at the reverse of the medal. The pretty housemaid’s chief fault was that she was in love—and desperately, too—a circumstance which, of course, called forth the severest censure from her mistress, who, to her credit be it said, took an Interest in her servants not often manifested by people of such rank as the wife of this city magnate. Mrs. Jobbins had four daughters—marriageable years upon years ago, and who, as yet, never had the ghost of an offer. Now, of course, it would have been a commendable thing had these vestals fallen in love and set .their foot firmly on the road which leads to Hymen’s temple; but with a young servant oetat. twenty it was a very different, matter. Mrs. Jobbins took the affair up warmly, as did also the vestals alluded to, and persistently informed Susan that if she knew when she was well off she would remain single, etc.; in fact, if possible, the young ladies expressed a greater horror of matrimony than even their mamma, and went about the house declaiming against the perfidy of mankind in terms that would have fully qualified them to become shining lights in any society of female celibates, although, as cook sententiously remarked in the sacred precincts of the kitchen: “If their ma hadn’t married Mr. Jobbins, where on earth would they have been ? A good Job, perhaps, if their ma had remained single.” From this remark of cook’s, who also had a sweetheart, it may be inferred that the Misses Jobbins were not quite so well liked “ down-stairs” as their maternal parent. Perhaps, however, the great reason for Mrs. Jobbins’ dislike to Susan’s courtship was that the pretty housemaid had fixed her affections upon what Mrs. J. termed a 4l theatrical,” but what Susan always spoke of as a harlequin. The intimacy between Susan and her betrothed was still young, but on one side, at least, it seemed as though it had existed for years, inasmuch as Susan was a tender, sympathetic creature; and when Herr Kiddini fell upon his knees at the house of a mutual friend, and, with uplifted arms, begged her to be “his,” she at once yielded him all the affection her fresh, young heart was capable of bestowing. The harlequin, however, was not Susan’s first sweetheart Such a neat, pretty girl could not fail to have plenty of admirers among the sons of the small tradesmen resident in the neighborhood. The time had been when Susan had almost determined upon becoming the wife of an enterprising young groeer named Perks, who had recently opened a business of his own and was said to be thriving. Susan really liked Perks, but the roseate • hues of courtship were darkened by some trumpery lovers’ quarrel, and as Susan said Perks was in the wrong, and Perks declared that Susan was entirely at fault, the affair resulted in a parting. Neither would give way, and neither would agree to the mediation of a third party; so Susan - at once returned all the little love-gifts which Perks had lavished upon her The jealous young grocer’s parting words Were that he honed she would not make a mistake, and that he felt she would repent of her conduct to him; to which Susan disdainfully tossed her head and turned away. Thus ended one love episode in the pretty housemaid’s life.

Herr Kiddini was, as Susan had stated, a harlequin at Christmastide and a teacher et dancing and calisthenics throughout the remainder of the year. Our heroine met him first at the abode of a married friend, who had once been a fellow-servant in the Jobbins mansion, and that spirit of curiosity ■which seems to be excited by all who are in any way-occupied before the footlights invested Herr Kiddini with an importance he would otherwise not have possessed. He was decidedly not a good-looking man—his eyes were sunken and fringed with thick lashes, and a slight mustache failed to hide the sinister expression of his mouth. But the fact of his being “on the stage’’ blinded Susan and Busan’s friends to everything else. Here they were at tea with the gentleman who-to-morrow night would appear before a crowded audience, in a tight-fitting dress covered with spangles, the grace of whose dances elicited such applause, who bore the wand which turned everything into something totally different, and who jumped through shop-windows with an agility that was vainly emulated by clown and pantaloon. Herr Kiddini was a moody man not given to much conversation; still he had sense enough to perceive that something was expected of him after the numerous slices of bread and butter and sundry cups of tea that had passed down his capacious throat, so he invented a few stories relative to his career, always taking care that he should appear in the most favorable of lights; and ere the evening had closed he had so far succeeded in winning the good-will of Susan and her friend the cook (who accompanied her) that Herr Kiddini was the principal subject of conversation between them throughout the week. How great was the Astonishment of both when, a few days after, a thumb-stained let-

ter arrived for Mias Biffin, inclosing an “ order” for two for the upper boxes at the theater at which Kiddini was engaged, and a greasy half-sheet of note-paper, with the words “Otto Kiddini’s compts” scrawled thereon! The receipt of this courtesy demanded that Susan should, with cook’s assistance, concoct a letter of thanks to the great terpsichorean artist. The letter took some time to write, because, as the cook remarked, it wouldn't “do to be too for’ard or yet too distant.’’ However, at last the happy medium was arrived at, and with many blushes suffusing her countenance Susan dispatched :4a the bostofflce her first communication to Herr Kiddini. The next thing was to obtain the consent of Mrs. Jobbins that , they might spend the evening together, because Susan declared she wouldn’t go without cook, and the latter wouldn’t accept the ticket for herself and a friend on any account whatever. Although it was awkward for both to be out on the same evening, Mrs. J.’s consent was won, and in the brightest of bonnets and warmest of cloaks the two girls went to see the pantomime in which Herr Kiddini took such an active part. Prosperity had not shed its golden rays upon the theater of late and there was plenty of “ paper” to be had, so that when Susan and cook took their seats in the stuffy upper boxes and looked around them they were not so disconcerted as might have been the case if money and not “ orders” had prevailed. The pantomime was played first that evening, so that the girls Were not kept long upon the tenter-hooks of expectancy. The “opening” seemed rather long; but there is' an end to everything, and at length the lamps were lowered for the “ carpenter’s scene.” Which was to usher in the glori es of the frsMsformation. The usual bevy of fairies appeared suspended in the air, there were the customary banks of impossible flowers and the usual combination of colbred fires. Then Kffdini in his parti-colored harlequin dress bounded upon the stage, the very perfection of grme and agility—at least so whispered Susan lb cook, who nodded affirmatively—and throughout the rest of the performance he wasto them the only object of interest. The menfr sallies of the clown, the senile observation! of the pantaloon, the feats of the apparently boneless sprites, the red-hot poker and thwnpirited “ rally’’ were in their eyes mere adjuncts to the dancing of Kiddini, and only gone through in order that he might have an interval of rest. Busan envied the active young person who appeared as Columbine, and began to think that dancing with Herr Klddml must be the greatest pleasure life could afford. But just when the “ comic business” seemed at its height the green baize dropped upon a tableau of which their hero, supporting the columbine on his knee with one hand, was the principal figure, and the pantomime was at an end. Cook had barely time to comment upon the “ loveliness” of the performance when Susan felt a gentle tap upon her shoulder, and, looking round, recognized the friend by whom she had been introduced to Kiddini/ “ You ain’t going for to stop for the drama, are you ? Kiddini said he’d sent you a order, and he gave me one, too. 'Liza (the speaker’s wife) is outside the boxes, and we’re off, because Kid: ini said he’d come round and have a bit of supper with us. You’d better come, too.” The girls looked ri each other, and then began to compare Offfftfons. The Mend's house was down a mews, within a stofie’s throw of their master’s,,and as perhaps (as Susan suggested) the drama might turn out to be a stupid thing, they decided to leave the theater with their friend. The chief inducement with both Susan and cook, however, was that there was a probability of Kiddini partaking of supper with them.

Their hopes in this respect were not disappointed. The great man arrived at their friend’s house almost as soon as they did, and made a very hearty supper, and was more agreeable and talkative than usual. As if by a preconcerted movement Susan suddenly found herself alone with the harlequin, and ere her friends re-entered the room she had become “engaged” to him, and had promised to become his bride in the following July, six months hence. How long Kiddini took to declare his passion is a moot point. Susan declared they were not alone more than five minutes, and that Otto’s confession burst upon her like a bombshell; but cook averred that the arrangement took more than half an hour to settle. That night Kiddini saw the girls home, and the sharp ears of the cook detected the sound of a kiss while She was descending the area-steps, leaving Susan to follow. After this occasion more “orders” came, and Susan found frequent opportunity of meeting her Otto, whom, as she confidently informed the trusty cook, “she loved more and more every time she saw him;” at which sympathizing cook would give an approving smile, and remark: “ Very natural, my dear.” Susan’s conscience occasionally smote her when she recalled her behavior to young Perks, the grocer, who, cook said, “ felt her conduct much, and was reduced to a skelinton;”forthe little quarrel which had separated them had really originated with her, and though all was over between them, and she was engaged to another, she could not bear to think that she had caused him any suffering. She often fancied she would have liked to go round to his shop and confess herself in the wrong, but after consultation with cook she came to the conclusion that such a course of proceeding might inspire hopes in the young man’s breast which could never be fulfilled; so she resolved that matters should remain as they were. Susan was of a sensitive nature, and when the remark that had beefi made by cook relative to the manner in which young Perks was “falling away” recurred to her memory, it was with difficulty she could restrain the tears that dimmed the luster of her black eyes. She tried to think that a “ professional” of the rank of a harlequin was a much better match than a small grocer, who had to stand behind his counter from eight in the morning until ten or eleven o’clock at night, with scarcely opportunity to have a comfortable meal during any portion of the day. Besides, as cook said, Kiddini was a gentleman, as anyone could see, and with his aristocratic bearing and white hands, on one of which a massive ring shone conspicuously, was a fit match even for one of their young ladies—alluding to the Misses dobbins, who, perhaps, would not have felt flattered by the allusion; still, on the other hand (not the harlequin’s other hand), there is a time in the life or a spinister when it seems as though she would be willing to marry anyone, and it must be confessed this critical period was nigh at hand with the Alderman’s daughters. >«. . During the early days of their courtship. Kiddini was not the most attentive of lovere, and when taunted therewith replied that hist arduous exertions at night rendered him al-l, most unfit for society. However, when hr heard from their mutual friend’s wife inthe mews that he really must pay more attention to the pretty housemaid or she would rebel, and when his betrothed In a confiding moment showed him her savings-bank book in which she was credited with the possession of £4O, Herr Kiddini’s affection received an impetus, and he became as ardent as could be wished. After the run of the pantomime his time was more bis own, and, as he informed Susan, excepting the instruction of a few daily pupils, he had really nothing to do. The stunted herbage of the square was beginning to give signs of vitality, the trees had already put forth their foliage, and troops of giggling nurse-girls with their infantine charges were to be seen perambulating the

graveled walks, when Kiddini one evening, sitting alone with Susan in the little house down the mews, moodily remarked that the time was approaching when they were to seek the hymeneal altar. Of course Susarf blushed ana said nothing, which was veiy correct and proper. Then Kiddini, in still more gloomy tones, said that he had had rather a bad spring, inasmuch as some of his pupils had taken their departure from his derpsichorean academy without paying foj the lessons they had received, and that, in short, he had not the wherewithal to provide a home. This somewhat disconcerted Susan, and quite unbidden there arose in her mind the image of the young grocer and his prosperous business; but Kiddini,' who now became warm on the subject, suggested that if Susan would lend him ±2O out of her little fund in the savings bank he would at once provide a home, and they would be married in a month. Kiddini had no doubts at all about the future; he had had an exceptionally bad spring, but the autumn might prove quite the reverse. This communication did not put Susan in a very hopeful mood; but she had pledged herself to Kiddini, and ’twas only right, she thought, that she should assist him in his adversity. She was not long making up her mind; and Kiddini, who had had infinitely less trouble over the matter than he imagined he would have, received the gratifying intelligence that Susan would at once give notice of the withdrawal of £2O from the savings bank, and that the money should be in his hands in a fortnight’s time. Never had Kiddini manifested so much affection for his betrothed as on that evening;» he was the most attentive, the most ardent of lovers, and poor Susan almost felt inclined to cry with happiness. She was an affectionate creature, grateful for every word of tenderness, and the devotion now manifested by her future husband seemed to her full of the pleasantest auguries. “ Poor fellow,” she said to cook on returning to her master’s residence, “ I am certain he loves me, and were it twice the amount he should have it.” In the monetary arrangement, however, a slight hitch occurred, inasmuch as Susan had forgotten that when she entered Aiderman Jobbins’ service that worthy’s wife had introduced her to the savings bank when she made her first deposit, but had taken care to have her own name inserted as trustee for her domestic, whereby the latter could not withdraw one farthing without Mrs. Jobbins’ consent, verbal or written. This .had escaped Susan’s recollection until she hunted up her bank-book and looked admiringly at the £4O with which she was credited. For some reason or other, for which Susan herself would have found 1J difficult to account, she would rather her mistress had known nothing of this withdrawal, but there was no help for it. So she boldly asked the consent of Mrs. Jobbins to what she wished. Great was her surprise when the Alderman’s wife, turning rapidly in her chair, told Susan that she would do nothing of the kind. “ No,” said the worthy Mrs. J.; “ since you’ve been in my house (now nearly six years) I’ve watched over you, Susan, like one of my own daughters, and I’m not going now to see you taken in by a swindler.” “Oh, please, mum,” interposed Susan, with a flush on her cheeks and angry sparkle in her eyes, which made her look prettier than ever, “ don’t call him that.”

“ Well, perhaps It is wrong to call the man names when I know nothing really of him,” replied her mistress; “but at the same time I won’t give my consent to the withdrawal of a penny until you’re married; then of course you can do what you like with your money, and I wash my hands of the whole affair. Depend upon it, Susan, if your sweetheart means honorably he’ll marry you without wanting to borrow your savings, and as you are on the right side keep so, Busan. Now go about your work like a good girl, and perhaps the time will come when you’ll thank me for not letting you have the money until after you’re married.” Susan curtsied submissively and left the room, for she knew one might as well attempt to lift the monument as turn Mrs. Jobbins when she had on'ce made up her mind. Rebellious cook said it was a great shame and she’d'take good care no one was ever trustee for her; and Kiddini, as may be imagined, became frightfully morose. But there the matter stood, and not all the remarks of cook, the anxiety of Busan or the sullen temper of Kiddini could alter it. “ I’ve rgot a couple of pounds by me,” growledKiddini, “and with that I must put up the banns and live meantime. Suppose we sav this dav month—will that do?"

Susan blushed, and, on the principle that silence gives consent, Kiddini stalked away with the understanding that he was to put up the bans and claim the pretty housemaid as his bride on the day signified. It was in no amiable spirit Kiddini sought his lodgings in a street off Drury Lane; and if the Alderman’s wife could have heard what he muttered relative to her welfare as he passed through the crowded courts and alleys she would have been more opposed to the marriage than ever. Oh, what an anxious period was the four weeks prior to the day when Susan was to become a wife! The pretty housemaid was an expert needle-woman, and, like an economic creature as she was, made the wedding-dress herself—a slate-colored silk with spots, something that would prove useful on a future day, and which had been presented her by the Misses Jobbins, who, despite the fact that it was only one of their servants who was about to be married, took a wonderful interest in all that was going on and spent a good deal more time in the kitchen than cook desired. Then there was Mrs. Jobbins, full of wise counsel and cautions as to the pitfalls of matrimonial life. Every one in the house thought it their duty in some way to interfere in the marriage preparations. At last came the eventful morn, and Kiddini, leaping from his couch and peering through the slip of blind which adorned the dirty window of his lodging, observed with no feelings of delight that the rain was descending in terrents.

“ Humph!” he growled; “obliged to have cabs now, I suppose.” Involuntarily his hand sought his trousers pocket, and then, finding that the sum of tive-and-sixpence was contained therein, he began to'make his toilet, It certainly was a depressing morning—the boughs of the trees in the square drooped in the wet, the ram pattered steadily upon the pavement, and a warm, close atmosphere increased the general gloom and dejection. Susan was to be married from the house in the mews where her intimacy with Kiddini had begun; and wishing good Mrs. Jobbins and her daughters farewell, with tears in her tJyes, she started for her friend's house the night prior to t/he bridal. Cook, of course, was to' be principal bridesmaid, and insisted that none but herself should arrange the slate-colored silk, lace shawl (a parting present from Busan’s late mistress) and white tulle bonnetX Nine, ten, eleven o’clock, and still the rain descended as steadily as ever. Poor girl, it was not a very pleasing commencement of her wifely career, but cook succeeded in eradicating all traces of her emotion just as the bridegroom with three cabs rattled up to the door. On their way to the parish church they were compelled to pass the shop of the rejected Perks, and Busan could not refrain from turning her eyes in thatdirection. She noticed that the shop was full of customers, and—yes, there was her former betrothed

with black * apron tied tightly round his waist, darting about his premises as busy as a bee in his efforts not to keep his customers waiting. “He seems to be doing well; the shop'is full,” remarked Susan to her chief bridesmaid. “ People say he’s got the best business in the street,” responded the cook?, Busan breathed a sigh, and wondered after all whether she had taken sufficient notice of Perks’ caution, and had dndeed made a mistake—whether a penniless dancing-mas-ter was so many degrees superior to a prosperous grocer. She had not much tithe for reverie, as in a moment the cabs dashed tip to the church door, and Susan had to run the gantlet of a line of admiring women and children, who, despite the drizzling rain, had.gathered to witness |the marriage cortege. The bride shivered as she got out of the vehicle, and without waiting for her lover’s arm hurried out of the damp air into the church. Expecting that Kiddini would immediately follow, Susan became somewhat surpris ed when five minutes elapsed and he had not made his appearance; still more astonished was she when, going to the church gortal to see what detained him, she observed er betrothed tightly clasped by a gaunt, wretched-looking woman, and five poorlyclad children hanging on to his arms, legs, coat-tails, and other portions of his clothes capable of seizure. “ What—what is the meaning of this?” inquired Susan, her eyes flashing with indignation. Not a word escaped Kiddini, who, with pallid face, remained perfectly helpless in the hands of those who had taken possession ®f him.

“ Kiddini,” exclaimed the bride, “ why don’t you speak?” By this time the woman and children had dragged the bridegroom into the church, and the doors had been closed upon the rabble attracted by the disturbance outside. When the woman knew that her prisoner could not escape she released her hold, and, turning to the indignant Susan, said: “Begging your pardon, miss, this is my husband, and these are our five children born in lawful wedlock. He deserted me and the little ones two years ago at Manchester, and ‘since then I’ve been roaming about in search of him, and if it hadn’t been for the rain this blessed morning, which made me take shelter here, perhaps I shouldn’t have found him at all. His name’s Tom Kidd and not Kiddini, as you call him. Oh, miss, you’ve had a lucky escape!” All the time the woman had been speaking her five children had not in the slightest degree relaxed their hold upon their long-lost father, but clung to him with a pertinacity that made the wretched creature seek a pillar for support. As for poor Susan the words seemed to sear into her brain; but to doubt what she had heard was impossible when she glanced at the helpless harlequin and saw his wretched plight.

“■Take me home, cook—take me home,” she said, resigning herself to her faithful friend; then entering one of the cabs which had awaited the conclusion of the projected marriage she fell into a swoon. When she got back to the little house down the mews it transpked that her friends knew scarcely any more of Kiddini than did Susan herself; they had met him at the abode of an acquaintance, ’and, on the strength of a vague 9 intimation that at any time they would be glad to see him whenever he passed that way, he had become a constant visitor to the house for some weeks prior to his meeting with Susan. An overwhelming sense of the narrow escape she had had so preyed upon the mind of our heroine that a severe illness followed; but the Jobbinses—kind-hearted people as they were—insisted upon her being removed back to their house, where the skill of the family doctor and the tender nursing of cook soon restored Susan to health. While she was ill there was daily inquiry made at the area-gate by Mr. Perks’ shop-boy relative to the invalid’s progress; and at last, when the roses began to appear on her cheeks, Mr. Perks himself called. He blushed deeply when he encountered the gaze of cook, and pleaded that he had given his boy a holiday; but cook was a little bit too experienced to be deceived by such an excuse as that She asked Mr. Perks if he would not step into the kitchen to rest himself just for a few minutes, at which the grocer hesitated; but after a desperate effort he followed his friend down the area-steps. He had not expected to see Susan, or of course he would not have come into the kitchen; but when he was-fair-ly inside the door and saw her wasted form enveloped in warm shawls before the fire he could not retreat with dlgmtywlthout speaking. Just at thatmoment cook remembered that there were some fowls to be dressed for dinner, and that she must see about them without delay; so giving Mr. Perks a hearty grip of the hand, and informing him that he knew his way out when he wanted to go, this artful cook beat a hasty retreat and, closing the door behind her, left the young people alone. It was very awkward and in their innermost thoughts both considered cook a stupid, blundering thing. - The topic of the weather is soon exhausted, and Perks’ delicacy would not allow him to converse much about Susan’s illness, knowing the causes that had led to it. So they Sat silently looking into the fire until Susan, with her face suffused with blushes, said: “I have for a long time been wanting to confess to you that I was in the wrong when we quarreled, but have not had the courage to do so. My illness has taught me much—among other things that I ought to acknowledge a wrong when committed, and that I ought never to intentionally wound an honest, trusting heart. Mr. Perks ” “ No, Susan, call me Tom, as you used to do,” interrupted Mr. Perks, his'face glowing with as much color as the flaming coals into which he gazed.

“ Well, then, Tom, if you wish it. I feet, that I did you a wrong, and I know I caused you distress of mind at the same time; but I am heartily sorry now, and I want you to forgive me. Will you ?’ Bhe raised her face as she concluded and looked so pleadingly at him that Tom Perks felt a big lump rise in his throat which rendered him speechless; but he seized her hand and gave it so hearty a shake that his fervor proved almost too much for her weak condition. “ Tom,” she added, when she had recovered a little, “you warned me once against making a mistake. I was a foolish girl then and disdained your advice; had I'been wise I should have heeded your words, for they have proved only too true.” “ But,” gasped Mr. Perks, “ mistakes may be corrected, and it is never too late to mend. Let us suppose the past eighteen months have passed in a dream. In short, Susan, let us be to each other as wc were once. My. heart beats as warmly as ever for you. Will It take me long, do you think, to regain your love?’ A smile of happiness passed over Busan’s face as she held forth her hand; and as he eagerly grasped it, It really seemed as though the past had been a dream, for even when Kiddini’s influence was strongest upon her there had always been a lingering thought of Tom Perks in her memory; and now that be was again by her side she experienced a sense of peace to which she had long been a stranger. How pleasant was the story told in Mr. Jobbins’ kitchen that autumn morning! And

yet ’twas an old tale. But whether whispered under shady trees, in drawing-room, attic or cellar, it has the same interest as of yore, and until time itself shall cease will remain ever fresh and dear. The following year, when spring was lapsing into summer, another wedding-party set out for the parish church; and this time there was no interruption to the service nor opposition on the part of Mrs. Jobbins and her daughters, who persistently expressed their opinion that in marrying Mr. Perks Busan had indeed acted wisely. The £4O in the savings bank was not required, and in that secure depository the money remained for many a year afterward. As for Kiddini, he is about the cdhntry pursuing his profession, but Busan has never seen him since the memorable occasion at the church-porch, and save at Christmastime, when her husband—now the owner of three grocery establishments in the metrop-olis-takes herself and the children to see a pantomime, her thoughts never revert to harlequins or their associations. Amid her prosperity Susan does not forget her old acquaintances, and there is always a hearty welcome for cook whenever she likes to call. Susan’s sympathetic heart often bleeds for her friend, who has married a house-painter, earning in his best times twenty-eight shillings per week, and who is given to spending his wages in drink, and then ill-treating his wife. Perhaps the time is shortly at hand when cook will leave her husband and take up her abode permanently with the Perkses, Thus Susan, after nearly committing an act which would have wrecked her future, has become transformed from the trimmest housemaid to the happiest wife in the district of Bloomsbury.— Belgravia Anwedt.