Pagina-afbeeldingen
PDF
ePub

she had written from Berlin to order rooms. The officials received her with their usual civility, and showed her two adjoining rooms, a large one for her and a small one, as they said, for her maid. Delia hoped Lydia had not heard. As it was late they both went straight to bed and met again next morning. Directly after breakfast Delia was to start for Euston and Lydia for Shepherd's Bush. In all probability, thought Delia, they would never meet again.

"You must let me know how you get on," she said, as they went downstairs together.

Lydia said she would, and knew that the lucky girl who took everything so easily had no understanding and therefore no pity for lives that were not lucky. Delia had not arrived in England without a cab fare in her pocket and dependent on the charity of friends while she looked for work. Lydia hated work. How she had enjoyed the easy journey, the gay dinner in the train, and the night in the comfortable hotel. How pleasant it was to come down to the big rooms set with little tables, where a whole company of lucky people were having breakfast before starting on the business of the day. The women looked as if their business would be the pleasant one of spending money. None of them wore threadbare clothes as Lydia did. No wonder the hotel servants had taken her for Delia's maid. How Lydia raged over her poverty, the shifts of it, the denials of it, the thought and sight of all you wanted and could not have.

"What do you like?" said Delia, handing her the bill of fare, and Lydia saw a long bewildering list of the hot and cold dishes ready at this early hour for her choice. She studied it in wonder, for she had never before been inside a good hotel. As she raised her eyes to give her order, she saw that the

waiter was attending, but that Delia had turned with a low cry of surprise and a smile of welcome to greet a young man making his way towards her. He, Lydia saw at a glance, was also one of the lucky ones. Everything about him proclaimed it—his clothes, his air of ease and cheerfulness, above all his voice.

"I had no idea you were in London," he said.

"I'm not," said Delia. "Don't think it. I'm travelling from Berlin to Hawkesmere, and I leave Euston by the 10.30."

"Shall I come and have breakfast at your table then? Otherwise you won't be able to tell me how you liked Berlin."

"Yes, come," said Delia, and then she introduced him to Lydia. "Mr. Audley, Miss Jordan," she said.

"But what are you doing here?" she asked him.

There were three of them now at a little square table in a comfortable corner near a window. A waiter began to come to and fro with all they wanted -tea, coffee, fresh toast, and the hot dishes they had ordered. Delia and Mr. Audley began to eat a good breakfast and to talk to each other. They were neighbors and old friends, Lydia discovered soon.

"I've been in Paris and Vienna," he was saying. "I've just come here for a few days, because my new rooms were not ready. My father and mother and Mary only left yesterday. We've had a gay week together." "Theatres?"

"Every night, and I believe Mary did matinées too. I'm at work by day." "You're coming to Applethwaite for Christmas?" "Rather

my skates."

[ocr errors]

with my gun and

But he did not look the kind of man whose whole mind is set on pastimes, Lydia thought. He was alert, and his

eyes and brow were those of a worker and a thinker. She wondered what he did in the world. Neither Delia nor he took much notice of her at first. They were busy with breakfast and with the swift current of talk that carried them to their old moorings.

"The Gilbottles are in this hotel," he said presently. "Mr. and Mrs. and Algernon."

"I should have thought they would choose a more gorgeous one," said Delia.

[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]

"They don't think much of it we had a talk in the lounge last night I was deep in a paper, and the three of them cornered me. Mrs. Gilbottle wants a governess for the younger children, and thought I might have met one abroad. Odd ideas she has."

Delia sniffed. Lydia kept her eyes on her plate and spread her toast with marmalade.

"There they come," said Jem Audley, and Lydia, looking up, saw three people bearing down on their corner of the room: a large, fair, overdressed woman, a small, foxy-faced man, and a loutish boy who favored his mother. Delia saw them too, and hurriedly

rose.

"I'm off," she said; "I won't be cornered." But before she moved away she spoke to Lydia.

"Don't hurry," she said; "you'll find me in my room."

"I am going to see you off from Euston!" Jem Audley called after her. "Right!" she called back.

Lydia, left at the table with Jem Audley, went on with her toast and marinalade, and did not speak; but before long she lifted her eyes to his and looked at him as though she would like to if she dared.

"What magnificent blue eyes!" the young man thought to himself, and was about to speak when the Gilbottles swarmed close to the table, stared in

quisitively at Lydia, and bade Jem an effusive good morning.

"It was Miss Middleton who got up as we came in?" inquired Mrs. Gilbottle. "So she is back in England. How glad her uncle must be. But I don't see Mr. Butler."

"He isn't here," said Jem.

"Oh!" said Mrs. Gilbottle. "Is Miss Middleton by herself? I wonder if we can be of any use to her. She is very young to be alone in London."

"Sounds like a melodrama, doesn't it?" said Jem. "But she isn't alone, and none of us can be of any use to her, because she leaves Euston at 10.30."

"We go back to-morrow," said Mr. Gilbottle "East, west, 'ome's the best.'"

The loutish boy was staring hard at Lydia, still engaged with toast and marmalade; but when his father and mother sat down at a table not far off, he had to sit down with them. Jem finished his cup of coffee, and thought that the pretty girl who had travelled with Delia took a curiously long time over her breakfast.

"Have you a journey before you today?" he asked.

She colored charmingly as she answered him.

"I am going to some friends at Shepherd's Bush," she said, and told Jem by her tone that the prospect was a vile one.

He got up and was just going to bid her good morning when she looked at him again.

"Mr. Audley," she said.
He waited, rather surprised.

"Could you introduce me to that lady?" she asked gently. "You said she wanted a governess," she went on; "a governess from abroad for her younger children."

Jem wondered where Delia had picked up her pretty travelling companion. He could see that she was of

a different type and class from Delia and her friends. Her present request put him in a quandary, for he did not want to perform the introduction and did not like to refuse.

"They are not exactly friends of mine," he said with some hesitation. "But you know them?"

"Yes, I know them . . . in a way. They live near us in the country."

Lydia looked so dejected that he felt ashamed of his backwardness in helping her.

"If you really think it might be of use," he stammered.

"Beggars can't be choosers," said Lydia. "I want work."

"Right you are then," said Jem. "Come along."

"How kind you are," murmured Lydia, and followed the young man to the Gilbottle table. When they reached it he presented her baldly as Miss Jordan, left her to do her own explaining, and hastened from the room.

She

Half an hour later he was driving with Delia to Euston in a taxi piled inside and out with luggage. had arrived down stairs rather hurried for her train and, after paying her bill, had gone off with him at once.

"I can't think what happened to Miss Jordan," she said soon after they started. "I never said good-bye to her. I couldn't find her, and I wanted to make sure that she had money enough to get to Shepherd's Bush."

"Is she as poor as that?" said Jem.

"I'm afraid she is. She wants a situation as governess. I was rather sorry she heard about the vacancy at the Gilbottles, as that would never have done."

"Why not?"

"Oh! because they are impossible people."

"You shouldn't have run away, Delia, and left me defenceless."

“Why? What happened?"

"Miss Jordan asked me to introduce her to Mrs. Gilbottle."

"Did you do it?"

"I couldn't get out of it."

Delia had an uncomfortable sensation of something she did not like, and yet could not condemn.

"Why did she ask you and avoid me?" she said.

"I shall probably see her to-night," said Jem.

"Not unless the Gilbottles have engaged her."

"They are sure to do that after seeing her with you."

"I am not going to be dragged into knowing the Gilbottles," said Delia, and then she did not refer to Lydia again.

Jem did not go back to the hotel till late that afternoon, and then, as he asked at the office for letters, he saw Lydia sitting alone in the lounge. She got up when she saw him and came forward as if she wished to speak. So he went to meet her.

"You've not gone to Shepherd's Bush yet then?" he said.

[blocks in formation]

She nodded delightedly.

"Mrs. Gilbottle has engaged me. I'm going back with them to-morrow. I'm so happy . . . and so grateful to you . . . and to Miss Middleton for having brought me to England."

"Oh! she brought you, did she?" said Jem, puzzled.

"She wanted a travelling companion," said Lydia. "She paid my fare.". “Why didn't you bid her good-bye?" asked Jem, bluntly.

Lydia's lovely eyes met his in innocent surprise.

"Was she vexed?" she asked. "I am sorry. You see I was talking to Mrs. Gilbottle and the time passed but I am sorry. Do you think

[merged small][ocr errors][ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

Every one who knew Mr. Butler liked him in a way, but they sometimes wished he had more backbone. "He's like putty," Mrs. Audley had once said angrily after she had made up his mind for him and found it unmade by some one else next day. Even now at the age of 60 he was a goodlooking man. His hair was gray, but otherwise his years had not done much to damage his appearance. He dressed well, he carried himself alertly, he had a clear skin, fine gray eyes, and more money than he wanted. He had not earned the money. It had been left

him by an uncle who ought to have left some of it to Delia's mother. But the old man had been attached to his nephew and not to his niece, and when she married badly he ignored her altogether.

But ever since Delia had arrived at Helm Close 13 years ago she had enjoyed every comfort and privilege that money can give. She could not remember a world that did not smile on her, and she could not imagine a life that was not smooth. To be sure she had elected to go to school and then abroad, and so for some years to exchange the oiled wheels of Helm Close for plainer ways, but this had been her own sensible choice, and until she went to Berlin she had come back three times a year to the delights of her beloved home. As she travelled from London to Hawkmere she looked forward with keen pleasure to resuming her home life, and even having a wellearned holiday. Lessons were over, she decided. In the old-fashioned phrase, she had "finished" her education, and although she knew that both the phrase and the idea were out of date, the agreeable fact remained that she had done with school.

Directly she got out of the train at Hawkmere the pleasant life she knew so well began again. The sweet country air met her as she walked from the station to Wiggs' Hotel close by, where she meant to have tea, and though it was nearly dark she could just make out the hills. After a year of Frau von Quint's wish-wash and vanilla biscuits the generous North Country fare seemed, like everything else at home, to make her welcome. So did the glowing fires, the thick carpets, and the quiet voices and movements of her country people. When she had finished tea her uncle's car whisked her to Helm Close, a house that had been built on the site of an older one about

70 years ago. It stood half way up

the fell, and there was a long, rather steep drive to the front door. On the threshold, her uncle waited, all smiles, to greet her. As three or four dogs came with him and greeted her, too, she could hardly hear what he said to her as she crossed the hall with him, but when they reached the drawing-room they shut out the dogs and looked at each other.

"You've grown," said Mr. Butler. "You look very well. I'm delighted to have you back, my dear."

"I'm delighted to come," said Delia, looking round the room and hugging her fresh impression of its space and comfort. "How nice everything looks at home. What splendid carnationsoh! and a log fire! I have missed our English fires-just fancy on a winter's day going up to the family monument for warmth and comfort."

"Are you tired, my dear?" said her uncle. "Have you come straight through from Berlin?"

[merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors]

"I wasn't by myself, Uncle Charles. My travelling companion came with me."

"To be sure-to be sure. I forgot about her-what luck it was that some one turned up-some one elderly and suitable. Poor old Martha didn't half like the idea of going so far to fetch you; but I was quite firm and stern about it. I put it to her that you must have some one of a certain age with you, and she saw my point. However, it was a relief to both of us when your telegram arrived."

"I thought it would be," said Delia. "So when the chance came I took it."

"Quite right!"

"But it was not elderly."

"Not elderly!"

"No. It was about my own age and very pretty."

"You don't mean it?"

"And here I am safe and sound.” "But, my dear-young and pretty and your own age. Two girls travelling across Europe by themselves. Didn't you have any adventures?"

"Not the smallest one-unless you call Jem Audley an adventure. He had breakfast with us at the Warrington this morning."

No. Mr. Butler could not call an old friend like Jem Audley an adventure, and he was glad to hear that he had made such a good start in his profession, and had actually set up for himself in Harley street. Mrs. Audley had been to tea yesterday, and had told him all about it. Dinner was at eight, and perhaps, as Delia had had a journey, a little champagne-to drink to her home coming

"And at New Year we must give a dance," said Mr. Butler, as he and his niece went into the hall together. "We have not had a dance here since you were fifteen. I think we might raise thirty couples easily."

Delia thought so too, and well satisfied with the outlook of things in general, went upstairs to dress. Here a pleasant surprise awaited her. Mr. Butler had had her bedroom done up with a new creamy white paper, a new chintz, and a rose-colored Axminster carpet. A big fire was burning, a housemaid was unpacking for her, all the silver jars and brushes she had not taken to Berlin were spread for her on the toilet table. She was pleased to see them again, and to see her own books and pictures and fresh flowers, and an evening gown and shoes put ready for her on the bed. Here, too, was old Martha waiting to welcome and adore her.

"It's ripping to be at home again," cried Delia, "Come and sit close to the

« VorigeDoorgaan »