Dutch the Diver; Or, A Man's Mistake

by George Manville Fenn

  STORY THREE--NIL DES.

  JOHN RICHARDS' HOUSEKEEPER.

  "Git along, do, with such clat."

  "But, Keziah--dear--only listen to me! Here's winter coming on fast,and what could be a better time for getting it over? What's cold got todo with it, Keziah, when there's a warm and manly heart beating away foryou at such a rate as to keep you warm and itself too? Say yes,Keziah!"

  "I won't."

  "Only think of how happy we should be, with you at your housekeeping,and me with my tallers!"

  "And smelling ten times worse of burnt mutton-chops than you do now whenyou come."

  "Smell, Keziah! Oh, what's smell when him as smells loves you? Ah,Keziah! I did think you'd got a heart that I could melt like goodquality fat; but it's a stringy and gristly heart, Keziah, one as isfull of pride. On my bended knees I ask you to say yes."

  "Git up, do, with your clat. The idee of going down on the carpet likethat, just for all the world like a man in a stage-play. Such stuffindeed. If you don't get up directly I'll run out of the room, that Iwill. Do you take me for a silly girl? at my time of life too."

  "No, Keziah," said the man of bended knees, rising slowly to stand oncemore, a fat, podgy little fellow, whose anxious face grew more ludicrouseach moment. "No, Keziah, I only take you for a very hard-heartedwoman."

  "Don't be a noodles, Peter," exclaimed Keziah. "Didn't I always tellyou, when I gave consent for you to come and see me, that I'd neverthink of marrying till Miss May was settled?"

  "Yes, you did," said Peter, "but she's such a long time over it."

  "Stuff!" said Keziah.

  "But she is indeed," cried Peter, trying to catch one of the lady'shands in his. "You see she's only nineteen, and can afford to wait afew years. But you see, dear, I'm forty, and you are--"

  "Yes, I know, I'm forty, too, and I'm not ashamed of it, so you needn'ttwit me with that," said Keziah snappishly. "I'm in no hurry to changemy name into Pash--Pash indeed. I'm sure Bay's ever so much better."

  "It is! I know it is," said Peter, "and I didn't twit you about youryears. Ain't I always said that you were just growing into your prime?But I see how it is: it's pride--it's the pride of the composites,Keziah, and you're trying to throw me over after I've been a true loverall these years."

  "Are you going to talk sense; or am I to leave you to chatter thatsickly twaddle to the cat?--true lover indeed!"

  "Go it!" cried Peter, "it's pride! I can see through it all. Why don'tyou be open with me? But, mark my words, Keziah, there's more sterlingsubstance in a short six, or even a height, than in all your grandcomposites, as set themselves up for sparm or wax. I'm tallow, I am,and I respect tallow. I like people not to be ashamed of theirposition. We can't all be wax, nor yet sparm, so why not be content asa good honest dip, or a mould! Why, even your twelve or fourteen has ahonesty about it that your sham, make-believe imitation wax don'tpossess--things as won't stand so much as a draught of air withoutflaring, and guttering down, and spattering all over your carpets. It'spride, Keziah, and that's all about it."

  "No, it ain't," said Keziah quietly.

  "To throw me over like this," continued Mr Pash in injured tones, "andafter all my attentions and presents."

  "Presents, indeed!" exclaimed the lady, "attentions!--very delicateattentions. Kidneys, that you got out of the nasty fat that you buy ofthe butchers."

  "But I never brought one as was the least tainted," said Peter, "and youalways said there was nothing nicer for supper."

  "And, pray, who always ate a good half?" retorted Keziah angrily.

  "But I never should have touched 'em if they hadn't been so gloriouslycooked--such brown--such gravy! O, Keziah, don't be hard on me," sighedPeter.

  "Peter Pash!" exclaimed the lady indignantly, "you're a great goose; andif I didn't know that you'd been sitting here three hours withoutnothing stronger than small beer before you, I should say you'd beendrinking. Now, once for all, you can come if you like, or you can stayaway if you like. I'm not going even to think about getting marriedtill Miss May's settled, and that won't be well, never mind that. Nowgo home."

  "Yes, my dear," said Peter in a resigned way, and taking his hat off thesideboard he began to brush the nap round and round very carefully."But you're very hard on me, Keziah."

  "Didn't I tell you to go?" said the lady.

  Peter Pash sighed and drew the back of his hand across his mouth, butthen his heart failed him, and he shook hands and said "good-night"--words which seemed thrown back at him by the lady of his heart; directlyafter he withdrew in accordance with the line in italics which appearedat the bottom of his tallow-chandler's trade card--"N.B. Orderspunctually executed!" leaving Keziah Bay, cook and housekeeper to JohnRichards, the old money-lender, of Walbrook, nipping her lips together,beating one foot upon the fender, and frowning very fiercely at thefire.

  For this had been a very exciting affair for Mrs Keziah Bay, since,heretofore, Peter Pash's custom had been to come three times a week toWalbrook, where he would sit in the half kitchen, half sitting-room, ofthe dingy old mansion--a house built in the days when merchantscondescended to live over their offices, with bedrooms looking down uponwarehouse or yard--sit and smoke a pipe while Keziah darned her master'sstockings; stare at her very hard, sup, and say "good-night," and thengo. That was the extent of Peter Pash's courting. He had certainlyonce before said something respecting wedding, and been snubbed intosilence; but only that once; hence, then, this had been rather anexciting time at Walbrook, and for more reasons than that one.

  Mrs Keziah Bay had not been thoughtfully tapping the old-fashionedbrass fender with her foot for more than five minutes before the doorsoftly opened and a slight girlish figure entered, to steal quietly tothe comely dame's side, kneel down, and clasp two little white handsround her waist.

  "That means trouble, I know," said Keziah sharply, but all the same oneof her hands was passed caressingly over the soft brown hair, and herlips were pressed to the white upturned forehead. "That means trouble,and worry, and upsets, or you wouldn't come to me. Now, what is it?But there: I know: you've been thinking about Frank Marr; haven't you?"

  A sigh was taken for an affirmative answer, and Keziah continued:

  "What's Mr Brough been here for to-night?"

  "Don't talk about it--don't ask me!" cried the kneeling girl, who nowburst out into a passion of weeping. "O, 'Ziah, what shall I do, whatshall I do?"

  "Why, tell me all about what you're crying for, to be sure," criedKeziah sharply; but all the same with a motherly attempt or two atsoothing. "Surely master hasn't been at you again about Mr Frank, hashe?"

  "O, yes--yes," sobbed the girl; "and it does seem so cruel and hard. O,'Ziah, I've no one to talk to but you--no one to ask for help. He talksas if Frank could help being poor, and not prospering in his business,when, poor fellow, he strove so hard."

  "But what did he bring all that up for?" cried Keziah. "Mr Frankhasn't been here these two months, I'll swear. Did you say anything?"

  "No, no!" sobbed the girl, bursting into a fresh paroxysm of weeping.

  "Then some one must have brought it up. There, I see plain as plain.Bless him! He ought to be boiled in his own sugar, that he ought! He'sa nice fellow, he is, for a sugar-baker, to come here tattling andsetting people against other people."

  "What do you mean?" sobbed May Richards, gazing wonderingly at hercomforter.

  "Mean? Why, that that old Tom Brough ought to be ashamed of himself tocome tattling to master about Mr Frank. That was it, wasn't it?"

  "No, no!" sobbed the poor girl wearily.

  "Then what did he come for?" said Keziah.

  There was a pause, during which May wept bitterly.

  "I shall go and ask master myself," said Keziah authoritatively, as shehalf rose. "I'm not going to have my child upset like this fornothing."

  "No, no, no!" sobbed May. "Pray stay, 'Ziah--dear 'Ziah, don't beangry, and I'll tell you all."

 
"Then what is it?" said Keziah.

  "Mr Brough--"

  "Well?"

  "Mr Brough has been to talk to papa."

  "Well, go on, child, for goodness' sake, and do wipe your eyes. He'sbeen to talk to master, and what about, pray?"

  "About me," sobbed May.

  "Well, and pray what about you?"

  "He came to propose, and papa gave him leave."

  "To propose what?" said Keziah. "There, for goodness gracious in heavensake, child, speak out and do not keep on riddle-me-riddle-me-reeing inthat way. What did he want? Why!" she exclaimed, as a sudden lightseemed to break upon her, "he ain't broke, and come after money? Not hethough, he's as rich as a Jew. What does it all mean?"

  "He came to propose, and papa ordered me to accept him," sobbed Mary;"and when I told papa that I considered myself engaged to poor Frank, hewas ready to strike me, and he cursed him, and called him horriblenames, and said he would sooner see me dead than married to such abeggar, and that I was to accept Mr Brough's offer."

  "What!" exclaimed Keziah, her eyes dilating as she caught May by theshoulders, and seemed to look her through and through. "Do you mean totell me that old Tom Brough, the sugar-baker, wants to marry you, andthat master said he should?"

  "Yes, yes," sobbed May. "O, 'Ziah, I'm half brokenhearted. What shallI do?"

  "Do!" cried Keziah fiercely; "I'd have knocked their heads together.Old Tom Brough! An old villain! An old rascal! He's sixty, if he's anhour. It's a good job for him he's gone. Sneaking out as he did, andgiving me five shillings when he went. Ah! if I'd have known when hewas with me there in the passage, I'd have given it him!"

  May clung to her, sobbing more than ever. "I'd--I'd--I'd have wrung hisneck," cried Keziah furiously; and then she burst out into acontemptuous laugh, as she strove to comfort the weeping girl, kissingher, wiping her eyes, and holding her to her breast. "There--there,"she said, "let it be now, and I'll talk to them both. I'll let them seethat money is not going to do everything. Tom Brough, indeed! Acarneying old rascal, with his smooth tongue and pleasant ways; an olddeceiver. I thought better things of him. But I haven't done with themall yet; I don't believe there's a man under the sun good for anything.But there goes the bell."

  Keziah Bay rose to leave the room, but May clung to her imploringly.

  "You will not say a word?" she said pleadingly.

  "And why not, pray?" Then seeing the agitation and fear in the poorgirl's face she continued, "Then I won't--not to him; for it would belike trying to turn a rushing bull;--but I'm not married yet, PeterPash," she muttered as she left the room, "nor she isn't married yet,John Richards and Thomas Brough, alderman and big man as you are. We'rea poor weak, helpless lot, that we are, and it's my belief that men areborn with but one idea, and that is that they ought to persecute uswomen."