A Plucky Girl

by L. T. Meade

  CHAPTER XI

  WHY DID HE DO IT?

  Mr. Randolph had engaged a private room at the hotel. We sat downthree to dinner. During the first pause I bent towards him and said ina semi-whisper--

  "Why did you send that grand carriage for us?"

  "Did it annoy you?" he asked, slightly raising his brows, and thatquizzical and yet fascinating light coming into his eyes.

  "Yes," I replied. "It was unsuitable."

  "I do not agree with you, Westenra," said mother.

  "It was unsuitable," I continued. "When we stepped into our presentposition we meant to stay in it. Mr. Randolph humiliates us when hesends unsuitable carriages for us."

  "It happened to be my friend's carriage," he answered simply. "He lentit to me--the friend who has also given me tickets for the Lyceum. Iam sorry. I won't transgress again in the same way."

  His tone did not show a trace of annoyance, and he continued to speakin his usual tranquil fashion.

  As to mother, she was leaning back in her chair and eating a little,a very little, of the many good things provided, and looking simplyradiant. She was quite at home. I saw by the expression on her facethat she had absolutely forgotten the boarding-house; the attics wereas if they had never existed; the third floor and the second floorboarders had vanished completely from her memory. Even Jane Mullinswas not. She and I were as we used to be; our old house in SumnerPlace was still our home. We had our own carriage, we had our ownfriends. We belonged to Mayfair. Mother had forgotten Bloomsbury, andwhat I feared she considered its many trials. Mr. Randolph talked aspleasantly and cheerfully as man could talk, keeping clear of shoals,and conducting us into the smoothest and pleasantest waters.

  When dinner was over he led us to the same unsuitable carriage and wedrove to the Lyceum. We had a very nice box on the first tier, and sawthe magnificent play to perfection. Mr. Randolph made me take one ofthe front chairs, and I saw many of my old friends. Lady Thesigerkissed her hand to me two or three times, and at the first curtainpaid us both a brief visit.

  "Ah," she said, "this is nice; your trial scheme is over, Westenra,and you are back again."

  "Nothing of the kind," I answered, colouring with vexation.

  "Introduce me to your friend, won't you?" she continued, looking atMr. Randolph with a queer half amused gaze.

  I introduced him. Lady Thesiger entered into conversation. Presentlyshe beckoned me out of the box.

  "Come and sit with me in my box during the next act," she said, "Ihave a great deal to say to you."

  "But I don't want to leave mother," I replied.

  "Nonsense! that cavalier of hers, that delightful young man, howhandsome and distinguished looking he is! will take care of her. Whatdo you say his name is--Randolph, Randolph--let me think, it is a goodname. Do you know anything about him?"

  "Nothing whatever, he happens to be one of our boarders," I replied."He has taken a fancy to mother, and gave us tickets and brought us tothis box to-night."

  Jasmine looked me all over.

  "I must say you have not at all the appearance of a young woman whohas stepped down in the social scale," she remarked. "What a prettydress that is, and you have a nicer colour than ever in your cheeks.Do you know that you are a very handsome girl?"

  "You have told me so before, but I detest compliments," was my brusquerejoinder.

  "Oh! I can see that you are as queer and eccentric as ever. Now I tellyou what it is, it is my opinion that you're not poor at all, andthat you are doing all this for a freak."

  "And suppose that were the case, what difference would it make?" Iinquired.

  "Oh! in that case," answered Lady Thesiger, "your friends would simplythink you eccentric, and love you more than ever. It is the fashion tobe eccentric now, it is poverty that crushes, you must know that."

  "Yes," I answered with bitterness, "it is poverty that crushes. Well,then, from that point of view we are crushed, for we are desperatelypoor. But in our present nice comfortable house, even contaminated aswe are by our paying guests, we do not feel our poverty, for we haveall the good things of life around us, and the whole place seems veryflourishing. Why don't you come to see us, Jasmine?"

  "I am afraid you will want me to recommend my friends to go to you,and I really cannot, Westenra, I cannot."

  "But why should you not recommend them?"

  "They will get to know that you were, that you belonged, thatyou"--Jasmine stopped and coloured high. "I cannot do it," she said,"you must not expect it."

  "I won't," I replied with some pride.

  "But all the same, I will come some morning," she continued. "You lookso nice, and Mr. Randolph is so--by the way, what Randolph is he? Imust find out all about him. Do question him about the county he comesfrom."

  I did not answer, and having said good-bye to Jasmine, returned to ourown box.

  The play came to an end, and we went home. Mother had gone up to herroom. Mr. Randolph and I found ourselves for a moment alone.

  "This evening has done her good," he said, glancing at me in aninterrogative fashion.

  "Are you talking of mother?" I replied.

  "Yes, you must see how much brighter she appeared. Do you think it didreally help her?"

  "I do not understand you," I replied; "help her? She enjoyed it, ofcourse."

  "But can't you see for yourself," he continued, and his voice wasemphatic and his eyes shone with suppressed indignation, "that yourmother is starving. She will not complain; she is one of the best andsweetest women I have ever met, but all the same, I am anxious abouther, this life does not suit her--not at all."

  "I am sure you are mistaken; I do not think mother is as miserable asyou make her out to be," I replied. "I know, of course, she enjoyedthis evening."

  "She must have more evenings like this," he continued; "many more, andyou must not be angry if I try to make things pleasant for her."

  "Mr. Randolph," I said impulsively, "you puzzle me dreadfully. Icannot imagine why you live with us; you do not belong to the class ofmen who live in boarding-houses."

  "Nor do you belong to the class of girls who keep boarding-houses," hereplied.

  "No, but circumstances have forced mother and me to do what we do.Circumstances have not forced you. It was my whim that we should earnmoney in this way. You don't think that I was cruel to mother. Shecertainly did not want to come here, it was I who insisted."

  "You are so young and so ignorant," he replied.

  "Ignorant!" I cried.

  "Yes, and very young." He spoke sadly. "You cannot see all that thismeans to an older person," he continued. "Now, do not be angry, but Ihave noticed for some time that your mother wants change. Will you tryto accept any little amusements I may be able to procure for her in afriendly spirit? I can do much for her if it does not worry you, butif you will not enjoy her pleasures, she will not be happy either. Canyou not understand?"

  I looked at him again, and saw that his face was honest and his eyeskind.

  "May I give your mother these little pleasures?" he continued; "sheinterests me profoundly. Some day I will tell you why I have a specialreason for being interested in your mother. I cannot tell you atpresent, but I do not want you to misunderstand me. May I make up toher in a little measure for much that she has lost, may I?"

  "You may," I answered; "you are kind, I am greatly obliged to you. Iwill own that I was cross for a moment--you hurt my pride; but you maydo what you like in future, my pride shall not rise in a hurry again."I held out my hand, he took it and wrung it. I ran upstairs, motherwas sitting before her fire. She looked sweet, and her eyes werebright, and there was a new strength in her voice.

  "We have had a delightful evening," she said. "I hope you are nottired, my darling."

  "I am quite fresh," I answered. "I am so pleased you enjoyed it."

  "I did, dearest; did you?"

  "Yes, and no," I answered; "but if you are happy I am."

  "Sit down by me, Westenra. Let us talk a little of what has jus
thappened."

  I humoured her, of course. Mr. Randolph's words had rather alarmed me.Did he see more ill-health about mother than I had noticed? was heseriously anxious about her? But now as she sat there she seemed well,very well, not at all tired, quite cheerful, and like her own self.She took my hand.

  Jane--dear, active, industrious Jane--had gone early to bed, but alittle supper had been left ready for mother. She tasted some of thejelly, then laid the spoon down by her plate.

  "You were rude to Mr. Randolph at dinner, West," she said.

  "I am sorry if I vexed you," I answered.

  "But what had he done to annoy you?"

  "I could not bear him to send that carriage. It was so unsuitable,servants in livery and those splendid horses; and all the boarders didstare so. It seemed quite out of keeping with our present lot. Butnever mind, Mummy, he may bring any carriage--the Lord Mayor's, if youlike--only don't look so unhappy." I felt the tears had come into myvoice, but I took good care they should not reach my eyes. I bent andkissed mother on her cheek.

  "You want your old life, your dear old life," I said, "and your oldcomforts. I am very happy, and I want you to be the same. If I havemade a mistake, and you are injured by this, it will break my heart."

  "I am not injured at all, I am happy," she said.

  "You like Mr. Randolph?"

  "I do. He belongs to the old life."

  "Then he is no mystery to you?"

  "I take him quite simply, as a good-natured fellow, who has plenty ofmoney, and is attracted by our rather queer position," she answered,"that is all. I don't make mysteries where none may exist."

  "Then I will do likewise," I said cheerfully.

  The next morning when I awoke it seemed like a dream that we haddined at the Cecil and enjoyed the luxury of a box at the Lyceum, thatwe had for a brief time stepped back into our old existence.

  The morning was a foggy one, one of the first bad fogs of the season.The boarders were cross--breakfast was not quite as luxurious asusual; even Jane was a little late and a little put out. The boarderswere very fond of porridge, and it happened to be slightly burnt thatmorning. There were discontented looks, and even discontented words,from more than one uninteresting individual. Then Mr. Randolph camein, looking very fresh and neat and pleasant, and sat down boldly inthe vacant seat near me, and began to talk about last night. Mothernever got up until after breakfast. Mrs. Armstrong gazed at me, andMiss Armstrong tossed her food about, and the other boarders, even theFurlongs, cast curious glances in our direction; but I had determinedto take him at his word, and to enjoy all the pleasures he could giveus; and as to Mr. Randolph himself, I don't believe any one couldupset his composure. He talked a good deal about our last night'sentertainment, and said that he hoped to be able to take us to thetheatre again soon.

  Just at that moment a shrill voice sounded in his ears.

  "Did I hear you say, Mr. Randolph," called out Mrs. Armstrong from herplace at the opposite side of the board, "that you have a largeconnection with the theatrical managers?"

  "No, you did not, Mrs. Armstrong," was his very quiet rejoinder.

  "I beg your pardon, I'm sure." Mrs Armstrong flushed. Miss Armstrongtouched her on her arm.

  "Lor! mother, how queer of you," she said; "I am sure Mr. Randolphsaid nothing of the kind. Why, these play managers are quite a lowsort of people; I'm ashamed of you, mother."

  "I happen to know Irving very well," said Mr. Randolph, "and alsoBeerbohm Tree and Wilson Barrett, and I do not think any of thesedistinguished men of genius are a low sort of people."

  "It is the exception that proves the rule," said Mrs. Armstrong,glancing at her daughter and bridling. "You should not take me up sosharp, Marion. What I was going to say was this, Mr. Randolph--can youor can you not get us tickets cheap for one of the plays. We have agreat hankering to go, both me and Marion, and seeing that we are allin this house--one family, so to speak--it don't seem fair, do it,that _all_ the favour should go to one?"--here she cast a witheringglance at me.

  Mr. Randolph turned and looked at me, and that quizzical laughinglight was very bright in his eyes, then he turned towards Mrs.Armstrong, and, after a brief pause, said gently--

  "What day would suit you best to go to the Lyceum?"

  "Oh, Mr. Randolph!" said Marion Armstrong in a voice of rapture.

  "Because if to-morrow night would be convenient to you two ladies," hecontinued, "I think I can promise you stalls. I will let you know atlunch-time." Here he rose, gave a slight bow in the direction of theArmstrongs, and left the room.

  "Now I have done it, and I am glad," said Mrs. Armstrong.

  "I do hope, ma," continued Marion, "that he means to come with us. Iwant to go just as Mrs. Wickham and Miss Wickham went, in the broughamwith the coachman and the footman, and to have dinner at the Cecil. Itmust be delightful dining at the Cecil, Miss Wickham. They say thatmost dinners there cost five pounds, is that true?"

  "I cannot tell you," I replied. "Mother and I were Mr. Randolph'sguests."

  Mrs. Armstrong looked me up and down. She thought it best at thatmoment to put on a very knowing look, and the expression of her facewas most annoying.

  "Don't you ask impertinent questions, Marion," she said; "you and memust be thankful for small mercies, and for those two stalls, even ifwe do go as lone females. But I hope to goodness Mr. Randolph won'tforget about it. If he does, I'll take the liberty to remind him. Nowbe off with you, Marion, your h'Art awaits you. What you may become ifyou take pains, goodness only knows. You may be giving ticketsyourself for the theatre some day--that is, if you develop yourtalents to the utmost."

  Amongst other matters which Jane Mullins took upon her own broadshoulders was the interviewing of all strangers who came to inquireabout the house. She said frankly that it would never do for me toundertake this office, and that mother was not to be worried. She wasthe person to do it, and she accordingly conducted this part of thebusiness as well as--I began dimly to perceive--almost every other,for mother had next to nothing to do, and I had still less. I almostresented my position--it was not what I had dreamed about. I ought tohelp Jane, I ought to throw myself into the work, I ought to makethings go smoothly. Dear Jane's fagged face began to appeal less to methan it had at first. Was I getting hardened? Was I getting injured? Iput these questions to myself now and then, but I think without anygreat seriousness--I was sure that my plan was, on the whole,sensible, and I would not reproach myself for what I had done.

  On the evening of the day which followed our visit to the Lyceum a newinmate appeared in the drawing-room. He was a tall man, considerablyover six feet in height, very lanky and thin, with a somewhat Germancast of face, pale-blue eyes, a bald forehead, hair slightly inclinedto be sandy, an ugly mouth with broken teeth, and a long moustachewhich, with all his efforts, did not conceal this defect.

  The new boarder was introduced to my mother and me by Jane Mullins asMr. Albert Fanning. He bowed profoundly when the introduction wasmade, and gave me a bold glance. At dinner I found, rather to myannoyance, that he was placed next to me. Jane usually put strangersnext to me at the table, as she said that it gave generalsatisfaction, and helped to keep the house full.

  "What sort of man is Mr. Fanning?" I asked as we were going down todinner.

  "I don't know anything about him, dear," was her reply. "He pays well,generously, in fact--no less than five guineas a week. He has a roomon the first floor, but not one of our largest. It is a very goodthing to have him, for we don't often let the first floor rooms. It'sthe attics and third floors that go off so quickly. I don't knowanything about him, but he seems to be somewhat of a character."

  I made no reply to this, but the moment we seated ourselves at tableMr. Fanning bent towards me, and said in a low voice--

  "I think myself extremely honoured to have made your acquaintance,Miss Wickham."

  "Indeed," I answered in some surprise. "And why, may I ask?"

  "I have often seen you in the Park. I saw you there
last season andthe season before. When I heard that you and Mrs. Wickham had takenthis boarding-house, I made a point of securing rooms here as quicklyas possible."

  As he said this I felt myself shrinking away from him. I glanced inthe direction of the upper part of the table, where Mr. Randolph wastalking to mother. Mr. Fanning bent again towards me.

  "I do not wish to say anything specially personal," he remarked, "butjust for once I should like to say, if I never repeat it again, that Ithink you are a most enterprising, and, let me repeat, most charmingyoung lady."

  The servant was helping me just then to some bread. I turned my faceaway from Mr. Fanning, but when I looked round again he must have seenmy flushed cheeks.

  "I am a publisher," he said, lowering his voice, which was one of hismost trying characteristics whenever he addressed me. "Most girls liketo hear about publishers and about books. Has the writing mania seizedyou yet, Miss Wickham?"

  "No," I replied, "I have not the slightest taste for writing. I am notthe least bit imaginative."

  "Now, what a pity that is; but there is a great deal of writingbesides the imaginative type. What I was going to say was this, thatif at any time a small manuscript of yours were put in my way, itwould receive the most prompt and business-like attention. I am a verybusiness-like person. I have an enormous connection. My place ofbusiness is in Paternoster Row. The Row is devoted to books, as youknow. All my books are of a go-ahead stamp; they sell by thousands.Did you ever see a publisher's office, Miss Wickham?"

  "No," I said.

  "I should be most pleased to conduct you over mine, if you liked tocall some day at the Row. I could take you there immediately afterluncheon, and show you the premises any day you liked. Eh! Did youspeak?"

  "I am very much occupied with my mother, and seldom or never goanywhere without her," was my reply to this audacious proposal. I thenturned my shoulder upon my aggressive neighbour, and began to talkfrantically to a lady at my other side. She was a dull little woman,and I could scarcely get a word out of her. Her name was Mrs. Sampson;she was slightly deaf, and said "Eh, eh!" to each remark of mine. Butshe was a refuge from the intolerable Mr. Fanning, and I roused myselfto be most polite to her during the remainder of the meal.