CHAPTER III.
Mr. Trew, off duty, and carrying his whip, came to Praed Street late ona Saturday night, and his look of anxiety disappeared at once when hesaw that Mrs. Mills and her niece were on excellent terms with eachother. He explained that there was no time to spare, because his oldlandlady had a hot supper ready, and it was not wise, on theseoccasions, to keep her or the meal waiting. He delivered his news.Pleasant, elderly gent on the front seat started conversation bytalking about prison life, and Trew gave some particulars of a casewith which he was acquainted. One subject leading to another, the gentsaid, as the omnibus was crossing Oxford Street, "Driver, do you evergo to the Zoological Gardens on a Sunday afternoon?" and thereuponhanded over the two tickets, expressing a hope that the visit would beenjoyed by the other and his wife.
"And me being nothing more than a lonely bachelor," said Trew, "Ithought perhaps the little missy here might favour me with her company."
"It'll do her the world of good," declared Mrs. Mills.
They met the next day near the West Entrance at half-past three. Mr.Trew, arriving early, had been listening to oratory at differentgroups, and he mentioned to Gertie that in his opinion some of thespeakers might well be transferred to the Gardens, and kept in a cage;what he failed to understand was why people could not set to and makethe best of the world, instead of pretending it was all bad. They wentthrough the turnstiles, and divided attention between animals andvisitors; the former could be identified with the help of labels. Mr.Trew said, in regard to the people, that it was difficult to tell whichwere housemaids, and which were ladies of title.
"Oddly enough," remarked Gertie, "I was intending to be here thisafternoon, in any case."
"Trust me," he said, self-reproach fully, "for coming in second. Neveractually won a race in my life yet. Is it the same young feller?"
"I'm not one to chop and change."
"When we run across him, I'll make myself scarce."
"You'll do nothing of the kind, Mr. Trew."
He pointed out, in the crocodile house, one or two regular customers ofthe Baker Street to Victoria route, and when they recognized him hebecame purple with content. A short youth was making notes near a tankin the corner. Mr. Trew, nudging Gertie, went to him and, in a gruffvoice, asked what the deuce he was doing there; the youth turned togive a retort.
"I've got your young lady cousin with me," explained Mr. Trew. "Comealong, and help with the task of looking after her."
Clarence Mills was pleased to meet Gertie, and, as the three wenttowards the red-bricked lions' house, mentioned that he proposed towrite a dialogue sketch of the Zoo; up to the present little worthrecording had been overheard, and he expected he would, as usual, becompelled to invent the conversations.
"I read all of yours, Clarence, that appear in the newspapers," saidGertie.
"That doesn't take up a great deal of your time," he remarked.
"But you're getting on, aren't you?"
"I think of going in for the boot-black business," he said. "I believeI could make a reputation there."
"Don't you go losing 'eart," advised Mr. Trew. "I shouldn't be in theposition I occupy now if I hadn't made up my mind, from the start, notto get low-spirited. If any disappointments come your way, simplylaugh at 'em. They can stand anything but that. Who is this I see onthe far horizon?"
"Don't let him catch sight of us just yet," begged the girlapprehensively. "He seems to have ladies with him."
Henry's companions entered the house, as the roaring within becameinsistent, and he looked up and down eagerly. Gertie gave a whistle.
"You and I have met before," he said smilingly to Mr. Trew.
"I was a Boy Messenger then, sir."
Gertie introduced her cousin with a touch of pride.
"I am trying to think," said Clarence, "where I saw your name to-day."
"Haven't made a name yet," remarked Henry. "Only been at it for abouteighteen months. I say! We don't want to go into that enormous crowd.We'll stroll round and see how the penguins are getting on. Theysometimes look as though they were thinking of giving me a commissionto draw up plans for new Law Courts."
At one of the open windows the two ladies were standing, watching overmany heads the high tea that was being served to the impatient animals.The younger one happened to turn as Gertie and her friends went by; sheraised her eyebrows.
"Everybody one knows appears to be here," said Henry Douglass. "I wishyou had agreed instead to run out with me from Baker Street Stationinto the country."
"Can't do that yet," she answered definitely. "Not until we know eachother a great deal better."
"Your rules of conduct are precise."
"You'll like me all the better later on," said Gertie, "because ofthat. Always supposing," she continued, "that you do go on liking me."
"So far as I can gather," he remarked good-temperedly, "I am _personagrata_ now at Praed Street."
"I don't know what that means," she said; "but aunt has quite taken toyou. Just look at this! Isn't it extr'ordinary?--Clarence," shecalled over her shoulder to her cousin, "here is most likely where yousaw the name this afternoon."
She examined the inscription framed on the bars. "Presented to theSociety by Sir Mark Douglass."
"No," said Clarence Mills. "That wasn't it. My sluggish memory willarouse presently, and then I shall be able to exhibit signs ofintelligence."
They were looking down from the terrace at the white bear in his pit,when a high voice came above the moderate tones of the crowd; Henrytook Gertie's arm, and began to talk rapidly of Nansen and the NorthPole, but this did not prevent her from glancing over her shoulder.The people gave way to the owner of the insistent voice, and she, afterinspection through pince-nez, made bitter complaint of the clumsinessof the bear, his murky appearance, the serious consequences ofindiscriminate feeding. Henry endeavoured to detach the members of hisparty, but they appeared enthralled by the commanding tones.
"I thought we should meet again," said the younger woman, addressingHenry.
"Miss Loriner," he said to Gertie, with signs of reluctance. "A friendof my sister-in-law."
"I am Lady Douglass's companion," remarked Miss Loriner.
"She seems ratty about something," said Gertie.
"She has what they call the critical faculty," mentioned the other,with a twinkle of the eye. "I happen to be aware of the fact."
Lady Douglass was looking around with the air of one searching forfresh subjects; Henry led Gertie to her, and made the introductions.Lady Douglass expressed the view that the Gardens were horribly tiring,regretted her ill-luck in visiting on a crowded afternoon. "But nomisfortune," she added wearily, "seems to escape me!"
It was not until they descended the steps that the group had anopportunity for forming itself. Miss Loriner, recognizing the girl'sperturbation of mind, took her ahead, thus foiling the intentions ofLady Douglass; they could hear her talking of literature to ClarenceMills in a patronizing way. Gertie's cousin said resolutely, "ButGeorge Meredith never wrote a poem with that title. You are thinkingof Owen Meredith." Lady Douglass answered, with pride, that she nevertroubled to remember the names of authors.
"Clarence is standing up to her," remarked Gertie.
"She gets so little contradiction," said Miss Loriner, "that it willhave all the charm of novelty. I daren't do it, of course."
"You're thinking of your bread and butter."
"That's about all I should have to eat if I lost this berth."
"Wouldn't care for the job myself."
"I can't do anything else," explained Miss Loriner. "Did you say yourcousin was a journalist? I wish I could do something like that. Iwant to write a novel, badly."
"That's probably how you would write it. Why, even Clarence is findingsome trouble over the job. And he's got a brain."
"I suppose that is an advantage," admitted the other serenely. "Howlong have you known Mr. Douglass?"
"Her husba
nd must get precious tired of the sound of her voice."
"He does. He goes away a good deal. The war in South Africa was aGodsend to him. Just now he is out somewhere--I forget where. Howlong have you--"
"Any youngsters?"
"There are no children."
Gertie glanced back at Lady Douglass in a more friendly way. Clarencehad been dropped owing, apparently, to want of sympathy, and Trew wasselected as one more likely to agree with arguments.
"Mr. Douglass's mother is in town," mentioned Miss Loriner, "but she isresting this afternoon."
"I wasn't aware he had a mother."
"Oh!" With illumination. "Then you haven't known him long. They arevery fond of each other. She is a dear soul. When matters go wrongdown at Ewelme, it is old Mrs. Douglass who puts everything right."
They were separated by a child who had been startled by a look from anamiable dromedary. Henry came forward.
"I am going to ask my sister-in-law," he said deliberately, "to inviteyou down to Morden Place. Thank her, won't you?"
"I'll thank her," replied Gertie, "but I shan't accept the invitation."
"I'd see that she was civil to you."
"And I shall see," said the girl obstinately, "that she doesn't getmany chances of being anything else. I'd no idea you had swellrelatives; otherwise I'd never have gone on with it."
He went back disappointedly, and Mr. Trew, making his escape with everysign of relief, told Gertie that, with what he might term a vast andconsiderable experience of womankind (including one specimen who, inMay of '99, gave him advice on the task of driving horses throughLondon streets), this particular one was, he declared, the limit. Hedescribed himself as feeling bruised, black and blue, all over.Without wishing to interfere in matters which did not concern him, heventured to suggest that Gertie might possibly be fortunate in heryoung man, but she could scarcely claim to be called lucky in her youngman's relations.
"I'm going to chuck it," she replied desperately. "Chuck italtogether. You were correct in what you said, that Sunday night,about distances, and I was wrong."
Mr. Trew, flustered by this instant agreement, began to hedge. He didnot pretend, he said, to be always right; he could recollect manyoccasions when he had been considerably wide of the mark. In fact, abigger blunderhead, excepting in regard to certain matters, of whichthis was not one, probably did not exist. Trew begged to point outthat the middle-aged party walking along behind them was, after all,only one middle-aged party, and there was no reason to assume that shecould knock out every opponent she encountered. At the finish of hisargument, Trew urged his young companion to put on the gloves, and showwhat she could do.
"Think I had better not," she said, less definitely. "I shan't likefeeling myself beaten, but it's wiser to do that now than to leave ittill later."
Mr. Trew became reproachful, almost sarcastic. This, then, was thestuff that his little friend, niece of his old friend, was made of, wasit? Crumpling up at the first signs of opposition; stepping out of thering directly her opponent held up fists! If Gertie represented theyoung woman of to-day, give Mr. Trew the young woman of thirty yearsago. He had changed his mind recently on an important subject--a thinghe rarely did--and half decided to extend the power of voting to theother sex, but the present case induced him to believe first thoughtswere best.
"I'll have another go then," announced Gertie Higham; "but I don'tguarantee I shall win."
"If I hadn't rather a lot of money out just now," he declaredencouragingly, "I'd put every penny of it on you."
They stopped near to the semicircular cage where the condors, inevening dress and white boa around the neck, surveyed the garden withthe aloof manner of the higher aristocracy. Gertie waited for anadvance; this did not come. Miss Loriner, at the command of LadyDouglass, furnished the hour, and a scream of dismay was given,followed by the issuing of orders. Henry must conduct them out of thisdreadful Park; Henry must find a hansom with a reliable horse, and adriver of good reputation. Also Henry must come on to see his mother,and take her on to a tea appointment at Cadogan Gardens, thus savingtrouble to Lady Douglass, who was really so fagged and wearied by thisexhausting afternoon that rest, in a partially darkened room, wasnothing short of imperative.
"Yes," said Gertie, answering Henry's questioning look; "you go!"
Lady Douglass remembered to give a word of farewell when she was adistance of about ten yards away. "So pleased to have met you!" shesaid casually. Henry, near the gates, turned and waved his hand, andGertie responded cheerfully.
"Now I want to scream!" she said.
Clarence Mills declared his intention of providing tea, and Trewadmitted a cup or so would not be likely to prove injurious to thesystem; might, indeed, have a soothing effect on the mind. They foundan enamelled table on the lawn, and directly Gertie took the handle ofthe teapot she was able to announce that she felt considerably improvedin temper. Her cousin gave an imitation of Lady Douglass's speech andmanner, and Gertie imitated the imitation. Mr. Trew had a difficultyin deciding which was the more admirable, but asserted either was to bepreferred to the original, and during the progress of the shilling mealthey affected to be distinguished members of society, to the greatastonishment of folk at neighbouring tables, and to the diversion of aninterested waiter. Completely restored now to her normal mood, Gertiementioned a number of alert repartees which she would have made ifHenry's sister-in-law had given suitable openings.
"I suppose," remarked Mr. Trew, emptying his cup by giving it a jerkover his shoulder, "that, after all, she isn't nearly so bad as she'spainted. She certainly did look to me somewhat made-up; it's a customamongst her set, I believe. Often wonder whether it takes anybody in."
"He said she was going to invite me to her house in the country, butshe didn't. Wouldn't mind meeting Henry's mother, just once, to findout what she is like."
"It was something on the tape," mentioned her cousin, againendeavouring to arouse memory. "That was where I saw the name. If youtwo care to come along to my club, I'll run in, and make sure."
"We can get a Waterloo omnibus from the York and Albany corner," saidMr. Trew.
He warned them, in ascending the steps, that he was going to have arare lark with the driver, whose face, it appeared, was new on theroad. They took seats in front, and Mr. Trew, adopting a rusticaccent, inquired of the driver whether the canal below represented theriver Thames; in regard to Trinity Church, near Portland Road Station,he asked if he was right in assuming this to be St. Paul's; at PeterRobinson's he put another question, and, information given, demandedwhether Oxford Circus was being run by Barnum. These and otherinquiries were courteously replied to; and when the three alighted nearthe fountain and Trew, looking up, thanked the new driver for hiskindness, the driver said, "Ta-ta, old True till Death," whipping theomnibus on the near side to call the conductor's attention to anapproaching customer.
Mr. Trew, depressed by the failure of his elaborate scheme, walkedbehind the young people, grumbling self-reproachfully. "Himrecognizing me all along, and calling me by my nickname at the finish!"
Clarence Mills ran up the staircase of his club, and the two walkedinside the railings of the square, inspected the bust of Shakespeare atthe centre. A few people were sitting about. The palatial houses ofamusement on the northern and the western side enjoyed their day ofrest, but gave hints of startling attractions for the coming week. Mr.Trew considered Shakespeare a well-meaning writer, but somewhat oldfashioned in methods, and was surprised to find that Gertie hadthoroughly enjoyed "The Tempest" at His Majesty's.
"Was you alone?"
"No. Mr. Douglass took me."
"That accounts for it," he said knowingly.
Clarence Mills came looking for them with anxiety. The two hurriedforward and met him at the gate; his forehead remained contracted.
"Her husband's yacht," he announced, "has been seized by natives. Allon board put to death." They gazed at each other.
"So t
hat turns her," remarked Trew slowly, "into a widow woman.There's no family, as I understand; consequently, it makes a bit ofdiff'rence to Gertie's young man."
The girl sighed.
"I'm sorry for her," she said. "Very sorry indeed. And it means thatmy path won't be none the easier!"
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