Part 111 (1/2)
”If you return, perhaps you would honour me by calling on me. I never see anyone. But, if you would permit me to say so, your friends.h.i.+p would be an honour.”
”Thank you, but I don't know what I shall be doing,” said Mavis wearily.
A few moments later, Major Perigal took his leave, but without recovering from his unaffected surprise at Mavis's honesty. He looked at her many times, to say, as he went out of the door of the parlour:
”I always believed Charles to have brains: now I know him to be a cursed fool.”
The following day, Mavis, accompanied by Mrs Trivett and Jill, set out for Swanage. They took train to Dorchester, where they changed into the South-Western system, which carried them to Swanage, after making a further change at ancient Wareham. Arrived at Swanage station, they took a fly to the house of a Mrs Budd, where lodgings, at the doctor's recommendation, had been secured. On their way to Mrs Budd's, Mavis noticed a young man in a hand-propelled tricycle, which the fly overtook. The nature of the machine told Mavis that its occupant was a cripple.
If she had encountered him eighteen months ago, her heart would have filled with pity at seeing the comely young man's extremity: now, she looked at him very much as she might have noticed a cat crossing the road.
Mrs Budd was waiting on the doorstep in anxious expectation of her lodgers. To see her white hair, all but toothless mouth, and wrinkled face, she looked seventy, which was about her age; but to watch her alert, brisk movements, it would seem as if she enjoyed the energy of twenty. She ushered Mavis into her apartments, talking volubly the while; but the latter could not help seeing that, whereas she was treated with the greatest deference by the landlady, this person quite ignored the existence of Mrs Trivett.
It was with a feeling of relief that Mavis sat down to a meal after the door had been closed on Mrs Budd's chatter. The change had already done her good. Her eyes rested approvingly on the spotless table appointments.
”Poor dear!” exclaimed Mrs Trivett in pitying tones, who waited to see if Mavis had everything she wanted before eating with Mrs Budd in the kitchen.
”What's the matter?” asked Mavis.
”I knew something dreadful would happen. It's the anniversary of the day on which I had my first lot of new teeth, which gave me such dreadful pain.”
”What's wrong?”
”That Mrs Budd. I took a dislike to her directly I saw her.”
Mavis stared at Mrs Trivett in surprise.
”I do hope you'll be comfortable,” continued Mrs Trivett. ”But I fear you won't be. She looks the sort of person who would give anyone damp sheets and steal the sugar.”
Mrs Trivett said more to the same effect. Mavis, remembering Mrs Budd's behaviour to her, could scarcely keep back a smile; it was the first time since her illness that anything had appeared at all amusing.
But this was not the sum of Mrs Trivett's resentment against Mrs Budd.
After the meal was over, she rejoined Mavis with perspiration dropping from her forehead.
”The kitchen's like an oven, and I've nearly been roasted,” complained Mrs Trivett. ”And her horrid old husband is there, who can't do anything for himself.”
”Why didn't you leave before you got so hot?” asked Mavis.
”It's that there Mrs Budd's fault. She's only one tooth, and it takes her all her time to eat.”
”I meant, why didn't you leave so that you could finish eating in here?”
”I didn't like to, ma'am, but if you wouldn't very much mind in future---”
”By all means, eat with me if you wish it.”
”Thank you kindly. I'm sure that woman and me would come to blows before many days was over.”
Mavis rested for the remainder of the day and only saw Mrs Budd during the few minutes in which the table was being either laid or cleared away; but these few minutes were enough for the landlady to tell Mavis pretty well everything of moment in her life. Mavis learned how Mrs Budd's husband had been head gardener to a neighbouring baronet, until increasing infirmities had compelled him to give up work; also, that as he had spent most of his life in hot-houses, the kitchen had always to have a big fire blazing in order that the old man might have the heat necessary for his comfort. It appeared that Mrs Budd's third daughter had died from curvature of the spine. The mother related with great pride how that, just before death, the girl's spine had formed the figure of a perfect ”hess.” Mavis was also informed that Mrs Budd could not think of knowing her next-door neighbour, because this person paid a penny a pound less for her suet than she herself did.
When Mavis was going upstairs to bed, she came upon Mrs Budd laboriously dragging her husband, a big, heavy man, up to bed by means of a cord slung about her shoulders and fastened to his waist. Mavis subsequently learned that Mrs Budd had performed this feat every night for the last four years, her husband having lost the use of his limbs.