CHAPTER X.
Gertie's sympathy with the invalid of Morden Place found itselfslightly diminished on Monday morning. The front room had not yet beenrestored to its normal state, and Mrs. Mills, before rising to startthe boy with his delivery of morning newspapers, had given a brieflecture on the drawback of excessive ambition, the advisability of notgoing on to Land's End when you but held a ticket for Westbourne Park.Ten minutes later she brought upstairs an important-looking envelopethat bore her name and address in handwriting which left just the spacefor the stamp, and Mrs. Mills speculated on the probable contents ofthe communication until Gertie made the useful suggestion that theenvelope should be opened. Mrs. Mills, after reading the letter, flungherself upon the bed and, her head resting on the pillow, sobbedhysterically.
Lady Douglass wrote near the telegram instructions "Private," and, toensure perfect secrecy, underlined the word three times. Nevertheless,Gertie read it without hesitation, and her first impression was one ofregard for the writer's ingenuity. Lady Douglass feared some rumoursmight have reached Praed Street concerning the behaviour of Miss Highamduring the brief stay at Ewelme; unable to rid her mind of this, shewas sending a note to assure Mrs. Mills that no grounds whateverexisted for the statements. She, herself, had taken great trouble tokeep the incident quiet, and could not understand how it had becomepublic property. She hoped Mrs. Mills would believe that Miss Highamhad been guilty of nothing more than a want of discretion, naturalenough in a girl of her age, and, if Lady Douglass might be allowed tosay so, her position in life. Lady Douglass felt it only right to sendthis note, and hoped her motives would be understood.
"Her motives are clear enough," agreed Gertie. "What I can't quitemake out is why she should take so much trouble in going for me. I'mout of her way, and I shan't get into her way again. What more doesshe want?"
"I'd no idea," wailed her aunt, "that there'd been anything amiss. Ofcourse, I knew you came back Sunday night instead of Monday morning,but you hinted that was because of Clarence. What are the facts, dear?"
Particulars given, Mrs. Mills changed her attitude, both of body and ofmind, and announced an intention of starting at once to have it outwith her ladyship. A good straight talking to, that was what my ladyrequired, with plain language which included selection of home truths,and Mrs. Mills flattered herself she was the very woman to undertakethe task. To this Gertie offered several determined objections.First, Henry's sister-in-law was ill; second, she had endured trouble,and was not perhaps quite herself; third, the incident was ended, andthere would be nothing useful in raking up the past. Mrs. Millslistened to the arguments, and agreed to substitute a newresolution--namely, that a reply was to be written couched in termswhich could not be charged with the defect of ambiguity.
"I shan't help you with the spelling," declared the girl.
"Somehow or other," complained Mrs. Mills, "you always seem to manageto get everything your own way."
"Not always."
One gratifying result of the evening party came in the fact thatBulpert decreased his visits. For two or three weeks he absentedhimself from Praed Street; and Mrs. Mills approved this, mentioning asone of the reasons, that it was not wise for an engaged couple to havetoo much of each other's company. When he did call, Mrs. Millsreported of him that he appeared to have something on his mind; he leftbefore Gertie arrived, and without disclosing the nature of the burden.
As a rule, it happened at Great Titchfield Street that one goodcontract was followed by a slack period, when the difficulty was tofind sufficient work to keep all hands going. But here and now, a highauthority ordered some alteration in the uniform of certain of HisMajesty's officers of the army, and either Madame or Miss Higham wascalled frequently to Pall Mall; and, in a brief period, all theoutworkers were again busy: Great Titchfield Street found itself sofully occupied that the girls had no time to recall songs learned atthe second house of their favourite music hall. Into the hum andactivity of this busy hive came, one evening, Madame's husband, makinghis way to the office where Madame and Miss Higham faced each other atsloping desks. He began to shout; it was clear that on the way fromKing's Road he had been taking refreshment to encourage determination.When he raised his fist, Gertie stepped forward.
"Miss Higham," said Madame calmly, "I wish you would just rundownstairs and fetch a policeman."
Madame's husband instantly showed a diminution of aggressiveness. Allhe wanted was fair play and reasonable treatment. If there did nothappen to be a five-pound note handy, gold would do; failing gold, hemust, of course, be content with silver.
"You will go out of this place at once," ordered Madame, in an evenvoice; "and as a punishment for disobeying my orders, I shall not giveyou a single penny all this week. I know very well what you want moneyfor. I know what you do with money when I give it to you."
"Impossible to discuss these matt'rs with you," he said, with an effortat haughtiness. "Purely private 'fairs."
"If it wasn't for the business here," she went on, "I think you'dsucceed in driving me mad. This just saves me. I'm not going to allowyou to interfere with it, and if you dare to come here again, I shallmost certainly lock you up. Now be off with you."
Mr. Digby Jacks wept, and, at the doorway, threatened to drown himselfin the Thames. In the Thames, just to the right of Cleopatra's Needle.
"I wish you would."
"Shan't, now," he retorted sulkily, "just in order to dis'point you.You're cruel woman, and some day you'll realize it and be sorry. Goo'night, and be hanged to you."
Gertie congratulated Madame upon her firmness, and the other admittedthe situation was one not easy to handle. For if, she explained, moneyhad been given, then he would have absented himself from Jubilee Placefor a week; as it was, he would be absent for a space of two or threedays. Gertie expressed surprise at this behaviour, and Madame said itwas almost bound to happen where the wife earned an income, and thehusband gained none. By rights, it should be the other way about, andthen there was a fair prospect of happiness. Madame counselled thegirl to be careful not to imitate the example; Gertie replied that shehad long since made up her mind on this point.
"But why don't you get rid of him?" she inquired.
"Because I've left it too long. Besides, I'm too old to get anybodyelse."
"Surely you'd be better off alone?"
"No, I shouldn't," answered Madame promptly. "What do you make theproper total, my dear, of that account Miss Rabbit made a muddle of?"
Within her experience it had sometimes happened that Gertie, on the wayhome, found herself spoken to by a stranger; this rarely occurred,because she walked with briskness, and refrained from glancing at otherpedestrians. (Generally the intruder was a youth anxious to make orsustain a reputation for gallantry, and he accepted the sharp rebuffwith docility.) But news came from Miss Loriner that Lady Douglass,after years of the luxury of imagining herself in delicate health, wasnow genuinely ill, and Henry went down from town each evening by a latetrain to make inquiries, returning in the morning. Miss Loriner addedthat some of Lady Douglass's indisposition might be due to the factthat the executors were hinting at the eventual necessity of taking outprobate in regard to Sir Mark's will; this done, a considerable changein affairs was inevitable. In consequence of the information, Gertiecould not avoid looking about her in the vague hope of encounteringHenry; she wanted to see him, although she knew a meeting would onlydisturb and confuse. She waited outside the street door after businesswas over, gazing up and down before making a start for home, and itoccurred frequently that a short man of middle age moved a few stepstowards her, and stopped; later, in turning out of Portland Place, sheobserved he was following. Once he came so close that she expected tohear a whining voice complain of space of time since the last meal, andhaving the superstition that casual charity appeased the gods, shefound some coppers; but he fell back, and did not speak. It was at theclose of a trying day when the representative of a firm had called, inMadam
e's absence, to have what he described in a preface as a jolly,thundering good row, which finished by an endeavour on his part toindicate apology by stroking Miss Higham's hand--on this night, Gertie,less composed than usual, again caught sight, in crossing GreatPortland Street, of the short man. He turned. She, also turning, methim in the centre of the roadway.
"Do you want to speak to me?" she demanded sharply.
"Not specially," he answered, in a husky voice.
"Then why do you so often follow me about?"
"I hope I don't cause you any ill convenience; if so be as I do, I'llstop it at once."
"That's all right," said Gertie, impressed by his deferential manner."Only it seemed to me rather odd. And just now my nerves are somewhatjerky." He touched his cap, and was shuffling off, when she recalledhim. "Stroll along with me, and let's have a talk. What do you do fora living?"
"Sure you don't mind being seen with me?" he asked.
"We'll go up Great Portland Street, and you can say 'good-bye' when wereach the underground station."
He buttoned his well-worn frock coat, gave himself a brisk punch on thechest, and with every indication of pride, accompanied her, keeping,however, slightly to the rear. Gertie repeated her question, and hereplied it was not easy to explain how he gained a livelihood; oddjobs, was perhaps the best answer he could give. Warning her not to befrightened, he gave the information that he had spent fifteen years ofhis life in prison. Did he begin young, then? No, that was thecurious part about it. He had little thought of starting the gameuntil, in one week, he lost his wife and, through the failure of afirm, his employment. Then it seemed to him nothing mattered, andanother out-of-work made a suggestion, and he fell into it, was caught,and his friend managed to get away.
"When I came out," he went on, "I found I'd lost all respect formyself, and I assumed everybody else had lost all respect for me. Itell you, it isn't a hard task to go down in this world. I've nobusiness to complain, but there it is; plenty can help you in thatdirection, but there's very few capable of assisting you to pickyourself up."
"It's not too late to make a change."
"I've got no luck, you see," he explained patiently. "This summer Idid nearly get back to what you may call the old style. I was in areg'lar job; I contrived to dress myself up almost like a duke, and Isets out on Sunday afternoon with the full intention of calling on someold friends I hadn't seen for a good many years. It didn't come off."
"Drink, I suppose."
"Yes," he said. "A chap driving one of these motors had taken a droptoo much. I was in St. Mary's in Praed Street for over six weeks. Ifit had been anybody but me, the car would have been driven by somewell-to-do gentleman, and I should have found myself compensated forlife. As I say, I never did have my share of good fortune, and Is'pose I never shall. All I haven't had of that, I hope will be passedon to my daughter."
"She ought to do something for you."
"I don't want her to. I've no wish to interfere with her. I can'tflatter myself I've done her any good, and I'd like to have thesatisfaction of feeling I've done her no harm. Here, I think," lookingaround him, "we say oh revor."
Gertie took out her purse; he gave an emphatic shake of the head, andwent.
The next night he was at the same place, improved in appearance, andGertie allowed him to accompany her along Marylebone Road so far asHarley Street. On the following evening he furnished an escort toUpper Baker Street, and afterwards extended the journey. His mannerwas always respectful, and he still made no attempt to walk abreastwith her. Sometimes a constable would say, "Hullo, Joe!" and hereplied, "Good evening, sir. Not bad weather for the time of year!"and going on, informed Gertie where, and in what circumstances, theacquaintance had been made.
It happened, on one occasion, that Gertie saw Mr. Trew on the box seatof his small brown omnibus coming along from the Great Central Station;he was preparing to flourish a cheery salute, when he caught sight ofher companion. Almost dropping his whip, he gave his head a jerk tosend the shining silk hat well back, and thus give relief to a suddenlyheated brain.
Mrs. Mills was waiting on the Friday evening, some doors east of herown shop; Gertie's new friend did not wait for instructions from hiscompanion, but left her instantly.
"Who's looking after the counter, aunt?"
"Mr. Bulpert," replied the other, panting. "I've give him a cigar tostick in his face. He wants to see you. And I want to see you, too.Who is that you were talking to?"
"The elderly man I told you about. The one who always waits now to seeme part of the distance home. Quite a character in his way."
"Quite a bad character," snapped Mrs. Mills.
"Do you know him?"
Her aunt gave a gulp. "I had the word from Mr. Trew," she said, stillrather breathless, "and his idea is that you may as well know it now aslater on. That man is your father, my dear--your father; and the lessyou see of him the better. Now, perhaps, you can realize why I knew itwas no use letting you carry on with Mr. Douglass. It was bound tocome out some day!"
"My father," said the girl slowly and thoughtfully.
"Your very own, dearie. Don't let it upset you more than you can help.I know you've a good deal to put up with just now. Come along and seeMr. Bulpert. A little sweethearting talk will cheer you up."
Bulpert admitted he had one or two questions to put; but on Gertieordering that they should be offered there and then, he said, gloomily,that some other time would do as well. The girl told him the news justcommunicated by her aunt, and waited hopefully for the comment; Bulpertremarked, with an indulgent air, that it took all sorts to make aworld, and he thought no worse of Gertie because of the fact that shepossessed a parent with a spotted record. He offered to see her fatherand give him a definitely worded warning; the girl answered that thematter could be left in her hands.
"But we don't want him to be a drain on us," he contended. "I knowwhat these individuals are like. Species of blackmail, that's what itamounts to. And I don't wish to see you working your fingers to thebone, and a certain proportion of the money earned being paid out tohim. I couldn't bear it, so I tell you straight!" He slapped a pileof magazines on the counter.
"I'm rather worried," she said, "and I don't want any moremisunderstandings. I told you not long ago I shouldn't go back toGreat Titchfield Street once I was married."
"That's what I wanted to speak to you about. You're not serious, Is'pose, in saying this. You're only doing it to test my affection."
"I mean every word."
"Very well!" announced Bulpert defiantly. "Understand, then, that theengagement's off. Entirely and absolutely off. And if you're soill-advised as to bring an action for breach, you jolly well can.Won't be a bad advert, for a public man like F. W. B. It'll get himtalked about!"
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