Part 106 (1/2)
”Think! I know. If you don't want to come, it's your duty to sacrifice yourself for the boy's health.”
This decided Mavis. Less than an hour later, they were driving in the cool of Surrey lanes, where the sweet air and the novelty of the motion brought colour to Mavis's cheeks.
They lunched at a wayside inn, to sit, when the simple meal was over, in the garden where the air was musical with bees.
”This is peace,” exclaimed Mavis, who was entranced with the change from dirty, mean Pimlico.
”As your life should always be, little Mavis.”
”It is going to be.”
”But what are you going to do till this marriage comes off?”
Mavis told him how it was arranged that she was soon to commence work at Melkbridge. Much to her surprise and considerably to her mind's disquiet, Windebank hotly attempted to dissuade her from this course.
He urged a variety of reasons, the chief of which was the risk she ran of the fact of her motherhood being discovered. But he might as well have talked to Jill, who accompanied the party. Mavis's mind was made up. The obstacles he sought to put in her way, if anything, strengthened her determination. One concession, however, he wrung from her--this, that if ever she were in trouble she would not hesitate to seek his aid. On the return home in the cool of the evening, Windebank asked if he could secure her better accommodation than where she now lived until she left for Wilts.h.i.+re. Mavis would not hear of it, till Windebank pointed out that her child's health might be permanently injured by further residence in unwholesome Halverton Street. Before Mavis fell in with his request, she stipulated that she was not to pay more than a pound a week for any rooms she might engage. When she got back, she was overwhelmed with inquiries from Lil, the girl upstairs, with reference to ”the mug” whom she (Mavis) had captured. But Mavis scarcely listened to the girl's questions; she was wondering why, first of all, Miss Toombs and then Windebank should be against her going to Melkbridge. Her renewed faith in Perigal prevented her from believing that any act of his was responsible for their anxiety in the matter.
She could only conclude that they believed that in journeying to Melkbridge, as she purposed, she ran a great risk of her motherhood being discovered.
The next morning, Mavis set about looking for the new rooms which she had promised Windebank to get. Now she could afford to pay a reasonable price for accommodation, she was enabled to insist upon good value for the money. The neat appearance of a house in Cambridge Street, which announced that lodgings were to let, attracted her. A clean, white-capped servant showed her two comfortably furnished rooms, which were to let at the price Mavis was prepared to pay. She learned that the landlady was a Mrs Taylor. Upon asking to see her, a woman, whose face still displayed considerable beauty, glided into the room.
Mrs Taylor spoke in a low, sweet voice; she would like to accommodate Mavis, but she had to be very, very particular: one had to be so careful nowadays. Could Mavis furnish references; failing that, would Mavis tell her what place of wors.h.i.+p she attended? Mavis referred Mrs Taylor to Miss Toombs at Melkbridge and Mrs Scatchard at North Kensington, which satisfied the landlady. When, twenty-four hours later, Mavis moved in, she found that Windebank had already sent in a profusion of wines, meats, fruit and flowers for her use. She was wis.h.i.+ng she could send them back, when Mrs Taylor came into her sitting-room with her hands to her head.
Upon Mavis asking what was amiss, she learned that Mrs Taylor had a violent headache and the only thing that did her any good was champagne, which she could not possibly afford. Mavis hastened to offer Mrs Taylor a bottle of the two dozen of champagne which were among the things that Windebank had sent in.
Under the influence of champagne, Mrs Taylor became expansive. She had already noted the abundance with which Mavis was surrounded.
”Have you a gentleman friend, dear?” she presently asked in her soft, caressing voice.
”I have one very dear friend,” remarked Mavis, thinking of Windebank.
”I hope you're very careful,” remarked Mrs Taylor.
”What do you mean?”
”Excuse my mentioning it, but gentlemen will be gentlemen where a pretty girl is concerned.”
”Thank you, but I am quite, quite safe,” replied Mavis hotly. ”And do you know why?”
Mrs Taylor shook her auburn head.
”I'll tell you. It's because he loves me more than anything else in the world. And, therefore, I'm safe,” she declared proudly.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
MAVIS GOES TO MELKBRIDGE
On the following Sunday fortnight, Mavis left the train at Dippenham quite late in the evening. She purposed driving with her baby and Jill in a fly the seven miles necessary to take her to Melkbridge. She choose this means of locomotion in order to secure the privacy which might not be hers if she took the train to her destination.
During the last few days, her boy had not enjoyed his usual health; he had lost appet.i.te and could not sleep for any length of time. Mavis believed the stuffy atmosphere of Pimlico to be responsible for her baby's ailing; she had great hopes of the Melkbridge air effecting an improvement in his health.