$Unique_ID{bob00570}
$Pretitle{}
$Title{Mystery Of Edwin Drood, The
Chapter XXII - Part II}
$Subtitle{}
$Author{Dickens, Charles}
$Affiliation{}
$Subject{miss
twinkleton
billickin
rosa
grewgious
yourself
am
dear
lady
seemed
see
pictures
see
figures
}
$Date{}
$Log{See Up The River*0057001.scf
}
Title:       Mystery Of Edwin Drood, The
Author:      Dickens, Charles

Chapter XXII - Part II

     By this time Mr. Grewgious had his agreement-lines, and his earnest-
money, ready.  'I have signed it for the ladies, ma'am,' he said, 'and
you'll have the goodness to sign it for yourself, Christian and Surname,
there, if you please.'

     'Mr. Grewgious,' said Mrs. Billickin in a new burst of candour, 'no,
sir!  You must excuse the Christian name.'

     Mr. Grewgious stared at her.

     'The door-plate is used as a protection,' said Mrs. Billickin, 'and
acts as such, and go from it I will not.'

     Mr. Grewgious stared at Rosa.

     'No, Mr. Grewgious, you must excuse me.  So long as this 'ouse is
known indefinite as Billickin's, and so long as it is a doubt with the
riff-raff where Billickin may be hidin', near the street-door or down the
airy, and what his weight and size, so long I feel safe.  But commit
myself to a solitary female statement, no, Miss!  Nor would you for a
moment wish,' said Mrs. Billickin, with a strong sense of injury, 'to take
that advantage of your sex, if you were not brought to it by inconsiderate
example.'

     Rosa reddening as if she had made some most disgraceful attempt to
overreach the good lady, besought Mr. Grewgious to rest content with any
signature.  And accordingly, in a baronial way, the sign-manual Billickin
got appended to the document.

     Details were then settled for taking possession on the next day but
one, when Miss Twinkleton might be reasonably expected; and Rosa went back
to Furnival's Inn on her guardian's arm.

     Behold Mr. Tartar walking up and down Furnival's Inn, checking
himself when he saw them coming, and advancing towards them!

     'It occurred to me,' hinted Mr. Tartar, 'that we might go up the
river, the weather being so delicious and the tide serving.  I have a boat
of my own at the Temple stairs.'

     'I have not been up the river for this many a day,' said Mr.
Grewgious, tempted.

     'I was never up the river,' added Rosa.

     Within half an hour they were setting this matter right by going up
the river.  The tide was running with them, the afternoon was charming.
Mr. Tartar's boat was perfect.  Mr. Tartar and Lobley (Mr. Tartar's man)
pulled a pair of oars.  Mr. Tartar had a yacht, it seemed, lying somewhere
down by Greenhithe; and Mr. Tartar's man had charge of this yacht, and was
detached upon his present service.  He was a jolly-favoured man, with
tawny hair and whiskers, and a big red face.  He was the dead image of the
sun in old woodcuts, his hair and whiskers answering for rays all around
him.  Resplendent in the bow of the boat, he was a shining sight, with a
man-of-war's man's shirt on - or off, according to opinion - and his arms
and breast tattooed all sorts of patterns.  Lobley seemed to take it
easily, and so did Mr. Tartar; yet their oars bent as they pulled and the
boat bounded under them.  Mr. Tartar talked as if he were doing nothing,
to Rosa who was really doing nothing, and to Mr. Grewgious who was doing
this much that he steered all wrong; but what did that matter, when a turn
of Mr. Tartar's skilful wrist, or a mere grin of Mr. Lobley's over the
bow, put all to rights!  The tide bore them on in the gayest and most
sparkling manner, until they stopped to dine in some everlastingly-green
garden, needing no matter-of-fact identification here; and then the tide
obligingly turned - being devoted to that party alone for that day; and as
they floated idly among some osier-beds, Rosa tried what she could do in
the rowing way, and came off splendidly, being much assisted; and Mr.
Grewgious tried what he could do, and came off on his back, doubled up
with an oar under his chin, being not assisted at all.  Then there was an
interval of rest under boughs (such rest!) what time Mr. Lobley mopped,
and, arranging cushions, stretchers, and the like, danced the tight-rope
the whole length of the boat like a man to whom shoes were a superstition
and stockings slavery; and then came the sweet return among delicious
odours of limes in bloom, and musical ripplings; and, all too soon, the
great black city cast its shadow on the waters, and its dark bridges
spanned them as death spans life, and the everlasting-green garden seemed
to be left for everlasting, unregainable and far away.

[See Up The River: The tide was running with them, the afternoon was charming]

     'Cannot people get through life without gritty stages, I wonder?'
Rosa thought next day, when the town was very gritty again, and everything
had a strange and an uncomfortable appearance of seeming to wait for
something that wouldn't come.  No. She began to think, that, now the
Cloisterham schooldays had glided past and gone, the gritty stages would
begin to set in at intervals and make themselves wearily known!

     Yet what did Rosa expect?  Did she expect Miss Twinkleton?  Miss
Twinkleton duly came.  Forth from her back parlour issued the Billickin to
receive Miss Twinkleton, and War was in the Billickin's eye from that fell
moment.

     Miss Twinkleton brought a quantity of luggage with her, having all
Rosa's as well as her own.  The Billickin took it ill that Miss
Twinkleton's mind, being sorely disturbed by this luggage, failed to take
in her personal identity with that clearness of perception which was due
to its demands.  Stateliness mounted her gloomy throne upon the
Billickin's brow in consequence.  And when Miss Twinkleton, in agitation
taking stock of her trunks and packages, of which she had seventeen,
particularly counted in the Billickin herself as number eleven, the B.
found it necessary to repudiate.

     'Things cannot too soon be put upon the footing,' said she, with a
candour so demonstrative as to be almost obstrusive, 'that the person of
the 'ouse is not a box nor yet a bundle, nor a carpet-bag.  No, I am 'ily
obleeged to you, Miss Twinkleton, nor yet a beggar.'

     This last disclaimer had reference to Miss Twinkleton's distractedly
pressing two-and-sixpence on her, instead of the cabman.

     Thus cast off, Miss Twinkleton wildly inquired, 'which gentleman' was
to be paid?  There being two gentlemen in that position (Miss Twinkleton
having arrived with two cabs), each gentleman on being paid held forth his
two-and-sixpence on the flat of his open hand, and, with a speechless
stare and a dropped jaw, displayed his wrong to heaven and earth.
Terrified by this alarming spectacle, Miss Twinkleton placed another
shilling in each hand; at the same time appealing to the law in flurried
accents, and recounting her luggage this time with the two gentlemen in,
who caused the total to come out complicated.  Meanwhile the two
gentlemen, each looking very hard at the last shilling grumblingly, as if
it might become eighteenpence if he kept his eyes on it, descended the
doorsteps, ascended their carriages, and drove away, leaving Miss
Twinkleton on a bonnet-box in tears.

     The Billickin beheld this manifestation of weakness without sympathy,
and gave directions for 'a young man to be got in' to wrestle with the
luggage.  When that gladiator had disappeared from the arena, peace
ensued, and the new lodgers dined.

     But the Billickin had somehow come to the knowledge that Miss
Twinkleton kept a school.  The leap from that knowledge to the inference
that Miss Twinkleton set herself to teach her something, was easy.  'But
you don't do it,' soliloquised the Billickin; 'I am not your pupil,
whatever she,' meaning Rosa, 'may be, poor thing!'

     Miss Twinkleton, on the other hand, having changed her dress and
recovered her spirits, was animated by a bland desire to improve the
occasion in all ways, and to be as serene a model as possible.  In a happy
compromise between her two states of existence, she had already become,
with her workbasket before her, the equably vivacious companion with a
slight judicious flavouring of information, when the Billickin announced
herself.

     'I will not hide from you, ladies,' said the B., enveloped in the
shawl of state, 'for it is not my character to hide neither my motives nor
my actions, that I take the liberty to look in upon you to express a 'ope
that your dinner was to your liking.  Though not Professed but Plain,
still her wages should be a sufficient object to her to stimilate to soar
above mere roast and biled.'

     'We dined very well indeed,' said Rosa, 'thank you.'

     'Accustomed,' said Miss Twinkleton with a gracious air, which to the
jealous ears of the Billickin seemed to add 'my good woman' - 'accustomed
to a liberal and nutritious, yet plain and salutary diet, we have found no
reason to bemoan our absence from the ancient city, and the methodical
household, in which the quiet routine of our lot has been hitherto cast.'

     'I did think it well to mention to my cook,' observed the Billickin
with a gush of candour, 'which I 'ope you will agree with, Miss
Twinkleton, was a right precaution, that the young lady being used to what
we should consider here but poor diet, had better be brought forward by
degrees.  For, a rush from scanty feeding to generous feeding, and from
what you may call messing to what you may call method, do require a power
of constitution which is not often found in youth, particular when
undermined by boarding-school!'

     It will be seen that the Billickin now openly pitted herself against
Miss Twinkleton, as one whom she had fully ascertained to be her natural
enemy.

     'Your remarks,' returned Miss Twinkleton, from a remote moral
eminence, 'are well meant, I have no doubt; but you will permit me to
observe that they develop a mistaken view of the subject, which can only
be imputed to your extreme want of accurate information.'

     'My information,' reported the Billickin, throwing in an extra
syllable for the sake of emphasis at once polite and powerful - 'my
information, Miss Twinkleton, were my own experience, which I believe is
usually considered to be good guidance.  But whether so or not, I was put
in youth to a very genteel boarding-school, the mistress being no less a
lady than yourself, of about your own age or it may be some years younger,
and a poorness of blood flowed from the table which has run through my
life.'

     'Very likely,' said Miss Twinkleton, still from her distant eminence;
'and very much to be deplored. - Rosa, my dear, how are you getting on
with your work?'

     'Miss Twinkleton,' resumed the Billickin, in a courtly manner,
'before retiring on the 'int, as a lady should, I wish to ask of yourself
as a lady, whether I am to consider that my words is doubted?'

     'I am not aware on what ground you cherish such a supposition,' began
Miss Twinkleton, when the Billickin neatly stopped her.

     'Do not, if you please, put suppositions betwixt my lips where none
such have been imparted by myself.  Your flow of words is great, Miss
Twinkleton, and no doubt is expected from you by your pupils, and no doubt
is considered worth the money.  No doubt, I am sure.  But not paying for
flows of words, and not asking to be favoured with them there, I wish to
repeat my question.'

     'If you refer to the poverty of your circulation,' began Miss
Twinkleton, when again the Billickin neatly stopped her.

     'I have used no such expressions.'

     'If you refer, then, to the poorness of your blood - '

     'Brought upon me,' stipulated the Billickin, expressly, 'at a
boarding-school - '

     'Then,' resumed Miss Twinkleton, 'all I can say is, that I am bound
to believe, on your asseveration, that it is very poor indeed.  I cannot
forbear adding, that if that unfortunate circumstance influences your
conversation, it is much to be lamented, and it is eminently desirable
that your blood were richer. - Rosa, my dear, how are you getting on with
your work?'

     'Hem!  Before retiring, Miss,' proclaimed the Billickin to Rosa,
loftily cancelling Miss Twinkleton, 'I should wish it to be understood
between yourself and me that my transactions in future is with you alone.
I know no elderly lady here, Miss none older than yourself.'

     'A highly desirable arrangement, Rosa my dear,' observed Miss
Twinkleton.

     'It is not, Miss,' said the Billickin, with a sarcastic smile, 'that
I possess the Mill I have heard of, in which old single ladies could be
ground up young (what a gift it would be to some of us), but that I limit
myself to you totally.'

     'When I have any desire to communicate a request to the person of the
house, Rosa, my dear,' observed Miss Twinkleton with majestic
cheerfulness, 'I will make it known to you, and you will kindly undertake
I am sure, that it is conveyed to the proper quarter.'

     'Good-evening, Miss,' said the Billickin, at once affectionately and
distantly.  'Being alone in my eyes, I wish you good-evening with best
wishes, and do not find myself drove, I am truly 'appy to say, into
expressing my contempt for an indiwidual, unfortunately for yourself,
belonging to you.'

     The Billickin gracefully withdrew with this parting speech, and from
that time Rosa occupied the restless position of shuttle-cock between
these two battledores.  Nothing could be done without a smart match being
played out.  Thus, on the daily-arising question of dinner, Miss
Twinkleton would say, the three being present together:

     'Perhaps, my love you will consult with the person of the house,
whether she can procure us a lamb's fry; or failing that, a roast fowl.'

     On which the Billickin would retort (Rosa not having spoken a word),
'If you was better accustomed to butcher's meat, Miss, you would not
entertain the idea of a lamb's fry.  Firstly, because lambs has long been
sheep, and secondly, because there is such things as killing-days, and
there is not.  As to roast fowls, Miss, why you must be quite surfeited
with roast fowls, letting alone your buying, when you market for yourself,
the agedest of poultry with the scaliest of legs, quite as if you was
accustomed to picking 'em out for cheapness.  Try a little inwention,
Miss.  Use yourself to 'ousekeeping a bit.  Come now, think of something
else.'

     To this encouragement, offered with the indulgent toleration of a
wise and liberal expert, Miss Twinkleton would rejoin, reddening:

     'Or, my dear, you might propose to the person of the house a duck.'

     'Well, Miss!' the Billickin would exclaim (still no word being spoken
by Rosa), 'you do surprise me when you speak of ducks!  Not to mention
that they're getting out of season and very dear, it really strikes to my
heart to see you have a duck; for the breast, which is the only delicate
cuts in a duck, always goes in a direction which I cannot imagine where,
and your own plate comes down so miserably skin-and-bony!  Try again,
Miss.  Think more of yourself, and less of others.  A dish of sweetbreads
now, or a bit of mutton.  Something at which you can get your equal
chance.'

     Occasionally the game would wax very brisk indeed, and would be kept
up with a smartness rendering such an encounter as this quite tame.  But
the Billickin almost invariably made by far the higher score; and would
come in with side hits of the most unexpected and extraordinary
description, when she seemed without a chance.

     All this did not improve the gritty state of things in London, or the
air that London had acquired in Rosa's eyes of waiting for something that
never came.  Tired of working, and conversing with Miss Twinkleton, she
suggested working and reading: to which Miss Twinkleton readily assented,
as an admirable reader, of tried powers.  But Rosa soon made the discovery
that Miss Twinkleton didn't read fairly.  She cut the love-scenes,
interpolated passages in praise of female celibacy, and was guilty of
other glaring pious frauds.  As an instance in point, take the glowing
passage: 'Ever dearest and best adored, - said Edward, clasping the dear
head to his breast, and drawing the silken hair through his caressing
fingers, from which he suffered it to fall like golden rain, - ever
dearest and best adored, let us fly from the unsympathetic world and the
sterile coldness of the stony-hearted, to the rich warm Paradise of Trust
and Love.' Miss Twinkleton's fraudulent version tamely ran thus: 'Ever
engaged to me with the consent of our parents on both sides, and the
approbation of the silver-haired rector of the district, - said Edward,
respectfully raising to his lips the taper fingers so skilful in
embroidery, tambour, crochet, and other truly feminine arts, - let me call
on thy papa ere to-morrow's dawn has sunk into the west, and propose a
suburban establishment, lowly it may be, but within our means, where he
will be always welcome as an evening guest, and where every arrangement
shall invest economy, and constant interchange of scholastic acquirements
with the attributes of the ministering angel to domestic bliss.'

     As the days crept on and nothing happened, the neighbours began to
say that the pretty girl at Billickin's, who looked so wistfully and so
much out of the gritty windows of the drawing-room, seemed to be losing
her spirits.  The pretty girl might have lost them but for the accident of
lighting on some books of voyages and sea-adventure.  As a compensation
against their romance, Miss Twinkleton, reading aloud, made the most of
all the latitudes and longitudes, bearings, winds, currents, offsets, and
other statistics (which she felt to be none the less improving because
they expressed nothing whatever to her); while Rosa, listening intently,
made the most of what was nearest to her heart.  So they both did better
than before.