With more than usual eagerness did Sherlock hasten to the pump-room the next day, secure within himself of seeing Captain Watson there before the morning were over, and ready to meet him with a smile; but no smile was demanded, for Captain Watson did not appear. Every creature in Bath, except himself, was to be seen in the room at different periods of the fashionable hours; crowds of people were every moment passing in and out, up the steps and down; people whom nobody cared about, and nobody wanted to see; and he only was absent.
"What a delightful place Bath is," said Mrs. Hudson as they sat down near the great clock, after parading the room till they were tired; "and how pleasant it would be if we had any acquaintance here."
This sentiment had been uttered so often in vain that Mrs. Hudson had no particular reason to hope it would be followed with more advantage now; but the unwearied diligence with which she had every day wished for the same thing was at length to have its just reward, for hardly had she been seated ten minutes before a lady of about her own age, who was sitting by her, and had been looking at her attentively for several minutes, addressed her with great complaisance in these words: "I think, madam, I cannot be mistaken; it is a long time since I had the pleasure of seeing you, but is not your name Hudson?"
This question being answered, as it readily was, in the affirmative, the stranger pronounced her own name to be Moriarty; and Mrs. Hudson immediately recognized the features of a former schoolfellow and intimate, whom she had seen only once since their respective marriages, and that many years ago. Their joy on this meeting was very great, as well it might be, since they had been contented to know nothing of each other for the last fifteen years. Compliments on good looks now passed; and, after observing how time had slipped away since they were last together, how little they had thought of meeting in Bath, and what a pleasure it was to see an old friend, they proceeded to make inquiries and give intelligence as to their families, sisters, and cousins, talking both together, far more ready to give than to receive information, and each hearing very little of what the other said.
Mrs. Moriarty, however, had one great advantage as a talker, over Mrs. Hudson, in a family of children; and when she expatiated on the talents of her son, and the beauty of her daughter, when she related their different situations and views — that James was at Oxford and Irene here in Bath, and both of them more beloved and respected by the world than any other two beings ever were — Mrs. Hudson had no similar information to give, no similar triumphs to press on the unwilling and unbelieving ear of her friend, and was forced to sit and appear to listen to all these maternal effusions, consoling herself, however, with the discovery, which her keen eye soon made, that the lace on Mrs. Moriarty's pelisse was not half so handsome as that on her own.
"Here comes my dear girl," cried Mrs. Moriarty, pointing at a smart-looking female who was then moving towards her. "My dear Mrs. Hudson, I long to introduce her; she will be so delighted to see you. Is not she a fine young woman?"
Miss Irene Moriarty was introduced; and Sherlock, who had been for a short time forgotten, was introduced likewise. The name seemed to strike Irene; and, after speaking to him with great civility, she observed aloud to her mother, "How unlike his brother Mr. Holmes is!"
"Indeed!" cried Mrs. Moriarty. "I did not make the connection!"
For a moment Sherlock was surprised; but Mrs. Moriarty and her daughter had scarcely begun the history of their acquaintance with Mr. Mycroft Holmes, before he remembered that his elder brother had lately formed an intimacy with a young man at Oxford by the name of James Moriarty; and that he had spent the last week of the Christmas vacation with his family, near London. The whole being explained, many obliging things were said by Miss Moriarty of her wish of being better acquainted with him; of being considered as already friends, through the friendship of their brothers, etc., which Sherlock heard with pleasure, and answered with all the pretty expressions he could command; and, as the first proof of amity, he was soon invited to accept an arm of Miss Moriarty, and take a turn with her about the room.
Sherlock was delighted with this extension of his Bath acquaintance, and almost forgot Captain Watson while he talked to Miss Moriarty. Friendship is certainly the finest balm for the pangs of disappointed love; and Sherlock, who had never before had a friend so nearly his own age — or, truth be told, any friend at all, save Mrs. Hudson — was all eagerness.
Their conversation turned upon those subjects, of which the free discussion has generally much to do in perfecting a sudden intimacy between two young people: such as dress, balls, and flirtations. Miss Moriarty, however, being four years older than Sherlock, and at least four years better informed, had a very decided advantage in discussing such points; she could compare the balls of Bath with those of Tunbridge, its fashions with the fashions of London; could rectify the opinions of her new friend in many articles of tasteful attire; and could discover a flirtation between any two people who only smiled on each other. These powers received due admiration from Sherlock, to whom they were entirely new; and the respect which they naturally inspired might have been too great for familiarity, had not the easy gaiety of Miss Moriarty's manners, and her frequent expressions of delight on this acquaintance with him, softened down every feeling of awe, and left nothing but tender affection, and an earnest desire of cultivating such abilities in himself.
Their increasing attachment was not to be satisfied with half a dozen turns in the pump-room, but required, when they all quitted it together, that Miss Moriarty should accompany Sherlock to the very door of Mrs. Hudson's house; and that they should there part with a most affectionate and lengthened shake of hands, after learning, to their mutual relief, that they should see each other across the theatre at night, and say their prayers in the same chapel the next morning. Sherlock then ran directly upstairs, and watched Miss Moriarty's progress down the street from the drawing-room window; admired the graceful spirit of her walk, the fashionable air of her figure and dress; and felt grateful, as well he might, for the chance which had procured him such a friend.
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End Note: Dun dun duh! *ominous music* Will Sherlock's friendship with Irene continue to delight him? Or will the connection with the Moriarty family lead our innocent hero astray? Tune in next Sunday, when this tale will continue.