Part 123 (1/2)
”What's the matter?” he asked, alarmed.
”What you said. Don't, don't say I'm dissatisfied any more.”
Thus Mavis and those nearest to her learned of the alteration in her fortunes.
Mavis was not long in discovering that the command of money provided her with a means of escape from the prepossessions afflicting her mind.
The first thing she did was to summon the most renowned nerve specialists to Melkbridge, where they held a lengthy consultation in respect of Harold's physical condition. Mavis was anxious to know if anything could be done to strengthen the slender thread of his life; she was much distressed to learn that the specialists' united skill could do nothing to stay the pitiless course of his disease. This verdict provided a further sorrow for Mavis, which she had to keep resolutely to herself, inasmuch as she told Harold that the doctors had spoken most favourably of the chances of his obtaining considerable alleviation of his physical distresses.
”And then you regret my coming into all this money, when it can do so much for you,” she said, with a fine a.s.sumption of cheerfulness.
To get some distraction from her many troubles, Mavis next set about seeking out all the people who had ever been kind to her in order that they should benefit from her good fortune.
It did not take her long to discover that Miss Annie Mee was dead; but for all she and her solicitors were able to do, they could find no trace of 'Melia. Mavis paid Mr Poulter's debts, gave him a present of a hundred pounds (endowing the academy he called it), and, in memory of Miss Nippett, she gave ”Turpsichor” two fine new coats of paint. Mavis also discovered where Miss Nippett was buried, and, finding that the grave had no headstone, she ordered one. To Mrs Scatchard and her niece she made handsome presents, and gave Mr Napper a finely bound edition of the hundred best books; whilst Mr and Mrs Trivett were made comfortable for life. Mavis was unable to find two people she was anxious to help. These were the ”Permanent” and the ”Lil” of Halverton Street days. One day, clad in shabby garments, she went to Mrs Gowler's address at New Cross to get news of the former. But the house of evil remembrance was to let; a woman at the next door house told Mavis that Mrs Gowler had been arrested and had got ten years for the misdeeds which the police had at last been able to prove. Mavis went on a similar errand to Halverton Street, to find that Lil had long since left and that there was no one in the house who knew of her whereabouts. She had been lost in one of the many foul undercurrents of London life. The one remaining person Mavis wished to benefit was Miss Toombs. For a long time, this independent-minded young woman resisted the offers that Mavis made her. One day, however, when Miss Toombs was laid up with acute indigestion, Mavis prevailed on her to accept a handsome cheque which would enable her to do what she pleased for the rest of her life, without endangering the happiness she derived from tea, b.u.t.tered toast, and hot-water bottles in winter.
”It was unkind of you not to take it before,” said Mavis.
Miss Toombs looked stupidly at her benefactor.
”Now I know you want to thank me. Good night,” said Mavis, as she put out her hand.
Miss Toombs took it, gripped it, and then turned round with her face to the wall. The next morning, Mavis received a letter from her in pencil.
In this, she told Mavis that the desire of her life had been for independence; but that she had held out against taking the money because she had latterly become jealous of Mavis, owing to Windebank's lifelong infatuation for her.
In addition to these benefactions, Mavis insisted on repaying Windebank for all the expense he had been put to for her illness, her child's funeral, and for her long stay at Swanage.
Thus, Mavis's first concern was to benefit those who had shown her kindness; whether or not she added to the sum of their individual happiness is another matter. Mr Poulter, doubtless, thought that dear Mrs Harold Devitt, while she was about it, might just as well have gilded ”Turpsichor's” head and face. Mrs Scatchard, and particularly Miss Meakin, were probably resentful that Mavis did not ask them to mix with her swell friends; whilst Miss Toombs had plenty of time on her hands in which to indulge in vain regrets because she was not as attractive and finely formed as Mavis.
Beyond these gifts, it was a long time before Mavis could get into the habit of spending her substance freely, and without thought of whether she could really afford to part with money; the reason being that, for so many years in her life, she had had to consider so carefully every penny she spent, that she found it difficult to break away from these habits of economy. Late in the year, she moved up from her Melkbridge place (which she had long since gone into) to the house in town which Major Perigal had been in the habit of letting, or, if a tenant were not forthcoming, shutting up.
When she got there with Harold and Jill, she welcomed the distractions that London life offered, and in which her husband joined so far as his physical disability would permit. Windebank, to whom Harold took a great liking, and Lady Ludlow introduced Mavis to their many acquaintances. In a very short time, Mavis had more dear, devoted friends than she knew what to do with. The women, who praised her and her devotion ”to a perfect dear of a husband” to her face, would, after enjoying her hospitality, go away to discuss openly how soon she would elope with Windebank, or any other man they fancied was paying her attention.
Mavis was not a little surprised by the almost uniform behaviour of the men who frequented her house. Old or young, rich or impecunious, directly they perceived how comely Mavis was, and that her husband was an invalid, did not hesitate to consider her fair game to be bagged as soon as may be. Looks, manners, veiled words, betrayed their thoughts; but, somehow, even the hardiest veteran amongst them did not get so far as a declaration of love. Something in Mavis's demeanour suggested a dispa.s.sionate summing up of their desires and limitations, in which the latter made the former appear a trifle ridiculous, and restrained the words that were ever on their tongues. This propensity on the part of men who, Mavis thought, ought to know better, occasioned her much disquiet. She confided these tribulations to Lady Ludlow's ear.
”Men are all alike all the world over,” remarked the latter, on hearing Mavis's complaint. ”You can't trust 'em further than you can see 'em.”
”Not all, surely,” replied Mavis, thinking of the innocuous young men, indigenous to Shepherd's Bush, whom she had so often danced with at ”Poulter's.”
”Anyhow, men in our cla.s.s of life are all at one on that point.
Directly they see a pretty woman, their one idea is to get hold of her.”
”I wouldn't believe it, unless I'd seen for myself the truth of it.”
”It's a great pity all of our s.e.x didn't realise it; but then it would make the untempted more morally righteous than ever,” declared Lady Ludlow.
”But if a man really and truly loves a woman--”
”That's another story altogether. A woman is always safe with the man who loves her.”