General Well'ngone In Love (9 page)

“
Yes, Papa, but before you judge me, please do me the favour
of first hearing what scheme I have planned.”

Mr Lyon took
his accustomed seat by the hearth and motioned for his eldest child
to proceed.

”
It has come to my attention that the situation of Mr Taylor
and his sister is not all that it should be,” Hannah began. “Their
rooms are above ours, on Bury Street, as you know,
Papa.”

Mr Lyon,
having unintentionally fallen into the role of judge, nodded his
head in what he hoped was a suitably judicial manner.

“
Knowing that they are but newly arrived in London, and
apparently without family or acquaintances,” Hannah continued, “I
have on more than one occasion invited Miss Taylor to my apartments
for tea. But she has refused my overtures.”

“
This surprises me,” said Mr Lyon. “They accepted our
invitation to the Seder. Miss Taylor seemed to be a sensible,
well-bred young lady.”

“
She praised my special recipe for gefilte fish exceedingly,”
added Mrs Lyon, by way of agreement with her husband.

“
I believe she is a well-bred person, as well,” Hannah
replied, “and that it is only the embarrassment of a too limited
income that prevents her from accepting my invitations. If she were
to have tea with me, she would feel obligated to invite me in
return, and it is my belief that she and her brother do not have
enough food for themselves, let alone others.”

“
I do not understand you, Hannah,” said Mrs Lyon. “Is not Mr
Taylor employed as physician to the Jewish orphanage? And how can
he engage rooms on Bury Street, if he does not possess a
comfortable income? The building is owned by Mr Melamed, who
maintains his own apartments in the house next door. It is
fantastic to suggest that Mr Melamed would let his property to
paupers.”

Mr Lyon
cleared his throat loudly and rose from his seat.

“
What are you doing, Mr Lyon?” asked his helpmeet, as she
watched him search behind the high-backed settle that stood in a
corner of the room. “Passover has finished. There is no longer a
need to search for
chometz
.”

“
It is not unleavened bread that I am searching for,” he
replied, turning his attention to the long-case clock
and looking inside.
Satisfied that the case was empty of all but the workings of the
stately clock, he next walked over to the door that led to the
library, which he quickly opened and just as quickly
closed.

“
Then what are you looking for?”

“
Joshua,” he replied, striding down to the far end of the
drawing room, where he opened the door that led to the
hall.

“
Joshua and Esther and Sarah are in the nursery, in
bed.”

“
In theory, but I wish to be certain.”

After casting
a careful eye behind the curtains, and finally assuring himself
that a certain inquisitive six-year-old boy was not hidden in the
room, Mr Lyon returned to his place by the mantelpiece.

“
What I am about to say must go no further than these four
walls,” he began, casting a solemn glance upon each of the ladies
in turn. “Mr Taylor and his sister are, indeed, without family or
friends. Their parents died of the fever in Jamaica, as I
understand, and Mr Taylor used the small legacy he received to
undergo training as a physician. I believe he studied somewhere on
the Continent.”

“
If I recall correctly, at the Seder he mentioned that he had
studied in Gottingen,” said Hannah.

“
Why did he study medicine in a German city and not in
England?” asked Rebecca.

“
There is only one medical school in England that will accept
young men of our faith, and places are limited,” replied Mr Lyon.
“Mr Taylor was not accepted, perhaps because he was neither born
nor reared in this country.”

Rebecca
accepted this answer, but as so often happened, no sooner had one
question been resolved than another one rushed into her mind. “I
wonder that he did not return to Jamaica, to become a physician
there. Jamaica must be very beautiful.”

“
The island might have its charms for an artist,” said Mr
Lyon, well aware of his daughter’s interest in painting and
drawing. “But Mr Taylor has an unmarried sister, and the Caribbean
is not the place to find her a suitable husband.”

“
But if she has no fortune, what good will it do her to be in
England?” asked Mrs Lyon, who was always very practical when it
came to matrimonial matters.

“
Once her brother is established as a physician, Miss Taylor’s
prospects should improve.”

Mrs Lyon
remained doubtful. “His work at the orphanage cannot bring him
much. Has he other patients?”

“
I believe that Mr Melamed engaged his services before
Passover. And should anyone in our family require a physician, I
have assured Mr Melamed that we shall send for Mr Taylor, as
well.”

“
Thank G-d, our children are healthy - pooh, pooh, pooh,” said
Mrs Lyon, looking nervously about her to make sure that no demon
harbingers of disease had crept into the room. “I should not like
to have a physician as a regular visitor to our home, unless, of
course, it was to invite Mr Taylor and his sister for a Shabbos
meal.”

“
I only say that should one of our children develop a cough or
a sore throat, we would be doing Mr Melamed a favour by sending for
Mr Taylor. You, Rebecca, for instance, if I am not mistaken, this
evening you are looking a little pale. Are you perhaps not feeling
well?”

“
I am very well, only I am puzzled. Why would we be doing Mr
Melamed a favour by engaging the services of …?” Rebecca suddenly
blushed. “Oh, I see. Mr Taylor and his sister are Mr Melamed’s
current charity case, is that it, Papa?”

“
Mr Melamed is most likely letting the rooms on Bury Street
for a minimal sum, until Mr Taylor’s medical practice is
established,” said Hannah, taking up the conversation’s
thread.

“
Our Sages tell us that the highest form of charity is to help
set up a person in business, so that one day he will no longer need
public assistance,” said Mr Lyon. “Therefore, it is the
responsibility of all of us to help newcomers to our community, not
just Mr Melamed.”

“
But we do not have to make ourselves sick to do so,” insisted
Mrs Lyon.

“
That is why I should like to tell you my scheme, Papa. I have
also tried to think of a way to help Mr Taylor and his
sister.”

“
If your intention is to help and not harm, Hannah, I should
very much like to hear what you have to say.”

“
You, Papa, would not notice the expert manner in which Miss
Taylor has mended and refashioned her walking costume from last
year, but such things do attract a lady’s eye. I therefore thought
that perhaps she could be employed to teach needlework to Rebecca
and Esther and Sarah. We could say that she would be doing us a
great favour, since Mama and I are so busy with making bed linen
for the baby that we do not have the time to instruct the girls
ourselves.”

“
If Miss Taylor would give her assent, it would be a very good
scheme, indeed. Do you not agree, Mrs Lyon?”

“
With all my heart,” said Mrs Lyon. “Invite Miss Taylor to pay
us a call the day after tomorrow, Hannah. I shall inform Mrs
Baer.”

“
Mrs Baer?” Mr Lyon protested. “Surely her duties at the
coffee house would prevent her from attending a sewing
party.”

“
I do not like to contradict you, my dear, but I assure you
that once Mrs Baer hears that there is an orphaned young lady in
London who is in search of a husband, there is nothing that will
prevent her from making Miss Taylor’s acquaintance.”

CHAPTER
II

To Rebecca’s
immense relief, the ladies invited to the sewing party were too
busy admiring the skilled alterations that Miss Taylor made to one
of Hannah’s bonnets to pay much attention to her own attempt to
embroider a handkerchief. Mrs Baer, in particular, was effusive
with her compliments, and at the first occasion when Miss Taylor
was out of earshot, she whispered to Mrs Lyon, “I know just the
young man.”

“
Who?” asked Mrs Lyon, dropping a stitch in her excitement to
learn which person had been chosen to be Miss Taylor’s future
husband.

Should the
Reader be surprised that the future happiness of a young lady
should be decided by someone who has made her acquaintance only an
hour before, it can only be because you are not yet acquainted with
the formidable powers of Mrs Baer, a woman in our community who is
as well known for her matchmaking abilities as for her delicious
kugels, which is saying a great deal. Just as some people have a
talent for discovering the interlocking mysteries of nature or the
navigational secrets of the star-filled sky, Mrs Baer has been
blessed with an uncanny ability to dissect the mystery of a young
person’s soul and—like the knowledgeable surgeon who knits together
a fragmented bone with its fellow—join that soul to the mate who
will both appreciate their good qualities and help them to smooth
those still jagged edges where improvement is needed.

But before Mrs
Baer could deposit the young man’s name into Mrs Lyon’s waiting
ear, Miss Taylor had finished her tour of the china cabinet, where
a series of china plates painted by Miss Rebecca Lyon was on
display, and retaken her seat.

“
You must be very proud of your daughter’s talents, Mrs Lyon,”
she said. “I would give much to be able to paint as
well.”

Mrs Lyon,
unaccustomed to hearing her second daughter so highly praised, was
momentarily at a loss for words. Miss Lyon was also surprised, but
her astonishment expressed itself in a torrent of conversation.

“
Do you really admire them, Miss Taylor?” Rebecca gushed. “It
would be my pleasure to teach you how to paint, if you are sincere
in your admiration, and perhaps you, in return, could teach me how
to sew. I am frightfully backward in the art, which causes my
mother immense pain.”

“
If the arrangement meets the approval of Mrs Lyon, I should
be very happy to do so,” replied Miss Taylor.

Mrs Lyon shot
a hasty glance in Hannah’s direction, but Hannah’s downcast eyes
were busy examining the remains of a piece of seed cake that sat on
her plate.

“
I fear this is an unfair bargain,” said Mrs Lyon. “You are an
accomplished needlewoman, Miss Taylor, while my daughter is still
learning her craft.”

“
Her lively conversation shall right the imbalance,” replied
Miss Taylor. “The afternoons are often long, and I would be glad of
the company.”

The matter was
therefore settled to the mutual satisfaction of Miss Taylor and
Rebecca, and not long afterward Miss Taylor took her leave.
Rebecca, expecting to hear praises for the brilliant way in which
she had secured Miss Taylor for a sewing instructress, was dismayed
to find herself berated from practically all sides.

“
What did I do wrong?” she pleaded, turning from the black
looks emanating from her mother to the more benign, but still
disappointed frown that had appeared on Hannah’s face.

“
The plan was to provide Miss Taylor with a more practical
remuneration,” Hannah said softly.

“
She needs money, not painting lessons,” Mrs Lyon explained in
her usual forthright manner. “You have ruined everything, with your
interfering.”

“
The child meant well,” said Mrs Baer, giving Rebecca’s arm a
reassuring pat. “And, Rebecca, you managed to openly reveal the
amiable heart that I could only suspect that Miss Taylor possesses.
Her praises of your china plates and desire to become further
acquainted with you, despite the difference in your ages, are ample
proof that she is as eager to please others as she is to be pleased
by her new friends. It is a great advantage in life to be happy
with whatever circumstances the Al-Mighty has placed you in, which
is why I think that Miss Taylor and Mr Jacob Oppenheim will be very
happy together.”

“
Mr Oppenheim? Why, of course!” Mrs Lyon exclaimed. “Hannah,
you remember Mr Oppenheim, do you not?”

The pinkish
tint that appeared on Hannah’s cheeks made words unnecessary. How
could anyone in the Lyon family forget the great service that Mr
Oppenheim, a former assistant in Mr Lyon’s fashionable clockmaker’s
shop, had done for Mr Lyon, when that gentleman was faced with
financial ruin? Or that Mr Oppenheim had harboured a secret hope
that he might one day ask for Hannah’s hand in marriage—a hope that
was dashed when Hannah married Mr David Goldsmith, instead? Since
the matrimonial alliance between Hannah and Mr Goldsmith had been
approved by Mrs Baer, there was no doubt that this was truly a
match made in heaven. But even while the Jewish community was
dancing at Hannah’s wedding, there was one unresolved matter that
had cast a slight twinge of sadness upon the otherwise joyous
occasion—when would Mr Oppenheim also attain such happiness and
find his intended bride?

“
But Mr Oppenheim now lives in Manchester,” said Hannah, her
composure completely regained. “How shall you arrange a meeting
between him and Miss Taylor?”

“
Oh, I will think of something,” replied Mrs Baer, her eyes
twinkling with pleasure. “Manchester is not on the other side of
the sea. Boney shall not prevent this marriage from taking place,
if it is meant to be.”