Page 43 of The Cheapside Runners
None of her charges had ever wondered what happened to Mr Black, or if he ever existed in the first place. The term ‘Mrs’ was slightly ambiguous in English society. It most often meant a woman was married, but it was also common when she took a senior position. For example, most housekeepers were ‘Mrs’ regardless of their marital status. Most governesses did not go to that extreme, but a senior governess, or the head of a school might. Mrs Black seemed to be the head of this school so that fit. Naturally, that did not count for all the women who had a baby on the wrong side of the blanket and just called themselves Mrs to pretend they were widows—an act nobody with any sense blamed them for.
“That waiter is Mr Gabriel Sinclair. He got that horrific burn rescuing a child from a burning building. Actually, he got the burn on the fourth trip. Who do you suppose the victims were? Take a guess.”
Everyone guessed some variation of sister, friend, niece, or acquaintance.
“They were trapped in a burning orphanage. He had no connexion to them whatsoever, save he was outside a burning building, and they were in. See the woman behind the counter?”
They all tried to look surreptitiously and saw a woman with the good looks of Jane. She obviously did not dress as well, but it was the kind of pure beauty that would attract nearly any man ofher station she wanted.
“That is the fortunate woman who loves him. I doubt she spends much time worrying about his burned face when she knows his heart.”
About half of the ladies doubted the claim, suspecting it was simply romantic nonsense, but did not have the fortitude to argue with their tutor.
“Miss White,” she asked, making the young heiress jump. “How many children do you suppose are under the patronage of your guardian? By that, I mean orphans, natural children, widows… that sort of thing?”
She looked like a startled animal, but finally stuttered, “I have no idea.”
Mrs Black shrugged. “I do not know either, though I suspect if you ask him, you will find a number in the dozens or hundreds. Now, let us presume I have the right of it.”
She stared until Miss White finally gave her full attention.
“Let us suppose it is hundreds when he could in fact afford thousands if he wanted to beggar his estate. If he did so, would that make him a better man, or just a foolish one?”
“Nobody can do everything!” Miss White replied emphatically.
“That is right. Each man does what he can and hopes it is enough. Suppose the number was half of what his father did, or double. Would that change anything? Anybody?”
Nobody had a clear idea, but Mary finally said, “So long as he is doing what he can and his father did what he could, I doubt we should judge them.”
“Exactly. If his father were generous and he cut off the funding, he would be a bad man. If his father was miserly and he just barely did his duty, he would be a modestly good man. If he did all he could reasonably be expected to do, he would be a good sort of man.”
“What does all this mean?”
“It means that it is not all gloom and doom, and you have to look at the world in abalancedway. Someone in my line of work could quite easily become jaded and cynical enough to hate all men, because I have to prepare so many ladies to avoid the worst of them. That way leads more to misery than happiness. On the other hand, some of you were on the road to ruin because you were not cynical or cautious enough, and you considered a handsome countenance and pretty manners a sign of good character. There has to be a balance. You will not have to look over your shoulder your whole life, but at this stage, caution is warranted. You should hope to live with your husband for decades, and young ladies seldom have the vaguest idea what that is like. I should think a few weeks or months of caution, or even years, is warranted to prevent being miserable the rest of your life. There are good men to go along with the scoundrels—you just have to find them and recognise them when you do.”
“And attract them,” Miss Violet added.
“Well, there is that,” Mrs Black replied with a chuckle. “We shall cover a bit of that in the second week, but that is not the primary focus of this course.”
Their tea and sandwiches arrived. “I thank you, Mr Sinclair. I hope you might give our compliments to Mrs Sinclair.”
“She will be happy to hear it, as always, Mrs Black.”
Once he left, she pointed out the window to all the people in the street.
“When you have learnt what I have to teach you, then you will look on the world closer to what it is than what you want it to be or fear it could be. We all have our biases and overcoming them is the work of a lifetime. I hope to reduce yours somewhat. That said, look around. At any given time, some of them will be very good men and some will be very bad—but the vast majority are perfectly ordinary. If you wish to marry, you need to findonegood man while avoiding some dozens of bad ones. It is far from hopeless.”
“What if you are expected to marry within your class, and good men are rare as hen’s teeth in your society?” Miss Yellow asked.
Mrs Black looked at her for a moment. “What would you think of a man who fished in the same stream for years but caught nothing?”
“Not a very good sportsman,” Miss Green replied petulantly.
“Or not really trying,” Miss Violet added.
“Or too fastidious,” Miss Burgundy said.
After a moment or two, Miss Red said, “He needs a different stream or better technique.”
