Dumps - A Plain Girl
Page 22
my forehead, and I knew by the trembling of hislips that he was feeling things a good bit.
"Hannah has told you?" I said.
"She has. But she isn't coming upstairs again to-day."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Charley, you can explain to Dumps."
Charley was standing by the fire. He was a very solidly made boy, notnearly so handsome as Alex, who was tall and slight, with regularfeatures and beautiful eyes. Charley was in some respects like me, onlyvery much better-looking.
"Oh," said Charley, "she began talking in a way we couldn't stand aboutthe Professor, so we just took her by the shoulders and brought her tothe top of the stairs. She said she was going out, and wouldn't be backuntil to-night--or perhaps never."
"Oh, you haven't turned her away?" I said; for although Hannah was verytroublesome and most disagreeable, and was certainly the last person toconciliate the disturbed state of the household and bring peace out ofdisorder, I could not bear the idea of her not being there.
"She'll come back, right enough. I tell you what it is, Dumps," saidAlex; "we're--we're a bit stunned. Of course, it's rather awkward,isn't it?"
"I don't know that it is," said Charley. "He could always do as heliked, couldn't he? I mean he never thought much about us, did he?"
"Oh, don't blame him now," I said.
"I don't want to--I only want you to understand. Father always did whathe liked. Hannah was dreadful; she spoke as she ought not to speak. Itis just as well she should go out and let the open air smooth away someof her grievances. I do not see that it matters to her; he is not herfather."
"No, it doesn't really matter to her; and yet it does matter in anothersense," I said.
Charley turned round.
"When are they coming back?" was his next remark.
"I think on Sunday evening."
"Well, this is Thursday. We have got to-day and to-morrow and Saturdayand Sunday. We have got four whole days. Let us have some fun. Howmuch of your five shillings have you left. Dumps?"
"I don't care," I said.
"That's nonsense.--Alex, push her into that chair.--Now, how much moneyhave you got?"
"I've got it all," I said.
"All of it?"
"Yes, every farthing. I had a few pence over which paid for theTwopenny Tube yesterday; I have not broken into the five shillings atall."
"We spent one and sixpence each last night, so you owe each of us a bit,because you enjoyed the supper just as much as we did."
"Oh yes."
"Let us have something good for tea. You can go out and buy it. Youcan spend your share on that. And I'll bring Von Marlo in, and we'llhave a chat, and perhaps we'll go somewhere to-night. Why shouldn'twe?"
"Oh Charley, where?"
"Well, I was thinking of the pit of one of the theatres."
This was such a daring, such an unheard-of suggestion that it reallytook my breath away.
"Do you think we might?"
"Why not? Von Marlo would love it. We four could go. We three bigboys could take care of one dumpy girl, I'm sure. There's a jolly thingon at the Adelphi. I love the Adelphi, for it's all blood and thunder.Don't you like it best of all, Alex?"
"Well, you see, I've never been to a theatre in the whole course of mylife," said Alex.
"Except once to the pantomime," I said. "You remember that?"
"Who cares for the pantomime?" said Charley.
"Very well, we'll go to the Adelphi," I said. "But I hope it won't bevery frightening."
"It will scare you out of your seven senses; I know it will. But I tellyou what it will do also," continued Charley--"it will make you forget;and if you remember at all, you have but to squeeze the thought up inyour heart that you have got three more whole days, or nearly threewhole days, before _she_ comes in."
"All right," I said; "I'll get something for tea."
"And we must be off to school," said Alex. "The Professor's away, andwhen the cat's away the mice will play."
"Oh Alex, you oughtn't to compare father to a cat!"
"Never mind; Hannah isn't here. If she were here we'd round on her fastenough. Now then, good girl, eat some bread-and-butter, for you weren'tdown to that dinner of horrid stew. Hannah said that you'd supped upall the gravy. Jolly mean, I call it. But there! we'll be back abouthalf-past four. Then we'll have tea, and hurry off to the theatreafterwards."
The boys left the house, and I was quite alone. Yes, there was nothinglike occupation. I put on my hat and jacket and went out. I boughtgolden syrup--the darkest sort--we all loved that; and I bought a loafof crispy new bread, and half a pound of butter. Then I got acurrant-cake and a small--very small--tin of sardines. The meal wouldbe delicious.
I returned home. I entered the parlour and put the kettle on to boil.Then I went down to the neglected kitchen. The fire was out in thelittle range, the doors of which stood open wide. There was no sign ofHannah anywhere. I went to the kitchen door, and saw that it waslocked. There was no key in the lock; she had doubtless taken it withher. This fact relieved me, for I knew that she was coming bock,otherwise she would most certainly have left the key behind.
I selected the best of the cups and saucers, choosing with difficulty,for there were few that were not either deprived of handles or withpieces cracked out of the rims. It was a nondescript set when presentlyit appeared on the table, and the cloth which I spread on it to lay outour meal was none of the cleanest. But there was the golden syrup, andthe crispy loaf, and the butter, which I knew was good; and there wasthe tin of sardines.
Punctual to the minute, at half-past four, the three boys made theirappearance. Von Marlo had been told. He came straight up to me andtook my hand. He did not speak; but the next minute he put his handinto his waistcoat pocket and took from it a knife. This knife was acurious one; it seemed to contain every possible tool that any humanbeing could require in his journey from the cradle to the grave. Withone of the instruments in it he speedily opened the tin of sardines;then he himself made the tea, and when it was made he drew chairs up tothe table and said, "Come and eat."
We all fell upon the provisions in a ravenous fashion. Oh dear! evenwhen you are in great trouble it is good to be hungry--good to be hungrywhen you have the means of satisfying your appetite. I felt downrightstarving with hunger that evening. I drank the hot tea, and atebread-and-butter and golden syrup, and left the sardines for the boys,who made short work of them.
At last we were all satisfied, and we talked over the matter of thetheatre. We must be standing outside not a minute later than seveno'clock. Von Marlo would keep at my right, and Alex at my left, andCharley would be my bodyguard behind. When the rush came we wouldsurely be in the front rank, and we would get good seats. The scenes ofthe play would be most harrowing; there was a secret murder in it, and aduel, and one or two other extreme horrors. The boys said it was of thesensational order, and Alex wound up with the remark that we could notpossibly stand anything else to-night.
Then there fell a silence upon us. We need not go to the Adelphi yet;it was not very far from where we lived. We could get there in a fewminutes. There was more than an hour between us and the desirablemoment when we were to steal like thieves in the night from our father'srespectable house to go to that place of iniquity, the pit at theAdelphi. For, of course, it was very naughty of us to go. Our fatherhimself would not have thought it right to allow children to partake ofthese worldly pleasures.
In the silence that ensued the pain at my heart began again. It wasthen Von Marlo made his remark.
"I think," he said, "it would be exceedingly interesting if Miss Rachelwould tell us exactly what the new mamma is like."
Nothing could be more intensely aggravating than those words, "the newmamma," had they fallen from any lips but Von Marlo's. But the peculiarforeign intonation he gave the words caused us three to burst outlaughing.
"You must never say those words again--never as long as you
live, VonMarlo," cried Alex, while Charley sprang upon him and did his very bestto knock him off his chair.
"Come, come! no violence," I said. "Please understand, Mr Von Marlo,that the lady who has married our father is not our new mamma."
"I am sorry, I am sure," said Von Marlo. "I won't call her that anymore--never; I am certain of that. But, all the same, if she is comingto live here, what is she like? You have seen her, Miss Rachel; you candescribe her."
"Yes, you may as well tell us about her," said