Part 2 (1/2)

”Come, come, my dear! there is such a thing as being too independent.

What is the use of relations if they can't help each other at a pinch?

If you are really determined to try this scheme we must help you all we can. You must come to see us when we are in town, and we may be able to give you useful introductions. Avice will be pleased to make your acquaintance, and so shall we all.--We must do what we can for Edgar's children, mustn't we, mamma?”

”I cannot promise anything which would be an encouragement to what appears to me a piece of preposterous folly,” said Mrs Loftus coldly.

”It is flying in the face of Providence to leave a comfortable home and deliberately court danger in this fas.h.i.+on. With your inexperience you will be ruined before a year is over, and who is to pay your debts I don't know. You can't expect any help from us if you act in defiance of our wishes. If you had already made up your minds, as appears to be the case, I must say it was very inconsiderate to inflict this long journey upon your uncle and myself for the mere farce of asking our opinion.--We had better get back to the hotel now, Edward. I am tired, and shall be glad of a rest.”

Mr Loftus rose obediently and followed his wife's lead to the door, but on his way he managed to whisper a few conciliatory words into Philippa's burning ear.

”Take no notice, my dear--no notice! Your aunt is hasty, but she will come round. I will see you again this evening when she has gone to bed, and to-morrow we will both come up again before we leave. Can't approve, you know--can't approve; but you are a brave girl. You mean well. Wish you good luck!”

Philippa's eyes swept over him with an expression of magnanimous superiority.

”Poor little down-trodden, trembling worm!” she was saying to herself.

”Afraid to a.s.sert yourself and be your natural self for fear of what a woman might say! Oh, if I were a man! Oh, if I were your husband, my dear! I'd keep you in order; I'd tell you straight out what I thought of you.” Then aloud: ”Good-afternoon, Aunt Gertrude! Mind the door-step. So awkward! _Hope_ you will not be too tired. _Good-bye_!”

The door closed, and brother and sister drew back and gazed at one another with bright, excited eyes. ”Well?” queried one. ”Well,”

answered the other. Then came the rush of feet on the floor, and down hurried the girls, one after the other, questioning, staring, agape with curiosity.

”Well--well--well--what did they say? Were they furious? Were they amiable? Did you stick to your point? Are they coming again? What is decided? Tell us quickly! Tell us at once!”

”It is quite decided,” said Stephen gravely. ”We are going to London.”

He put his arm round his sister's waist, and looked down at her with admiration. ”Phil, you were glorious! You convinced _me_, at least, if you failed with the others. My last lingering doubt has disappeared.

I'll begin preparations this very day.”

”Here endeth the first volume!” chanted Madge shrilly. ”Now for excitement; now for romance; now for the third volume, with its honour and glory!”

But Philippa s.h.i.+vered and was silent. The moment of reaction had come, and in her heart she said: ”But the second volume lies between, and in the second volume are all the trials and difficulties. Oh, it may be a long, long fight before we get to the happy ending!”

CHAPTER FOUR.

THE REMOVAL.

Two months later the plunge was taken. The Charrington family said good-bye to their picturesque country home, and established themselves in the top flat of a ma.s.sive red building in the picturesque district of the Tottenham Court Road. With one exception the rooms were small; there was no pa.s.sage to speak of; the coal-cellar was in pleasing proximity to the drawing-room door; the view consisted of a forest of chimney-stacks, and the air was thick with s.m.u.ts. When Philippa made her first survey of the premises she felt that she was indeed coming down in the world; but when she heard the rent demanded she changed her mind with a shock of surprise. It was preposterous--incredible! The price of a palace rather than of a sooty tenement midway between earth and sky! For that price in the country one could have a tennis-lawn, and a stable, and a pretty flower and vegetable garden, to say nothing of a roomy and comfortable house. Off went Miss Charrington with her head in the air, but two long days of search brought her to the sad conviction that she would have to change her att.i.tude with regard to London prices, and that the agent had been right in speaking of the flat as unusually cheap. She did not dare to take it, however, without a family consultation; so she secured the option for a couple of days, and went home with the story of her wanderings. The girls howled in unison at the mention of the rent, but, like their sister, were obliged to come round to the conclusion that the money must be paid.

”It is really and truly the best thing I could find in a central position,” said Philippa sadly. ”The question is--ought we to give up the idea of living in town, and take a little house in the suburbs? If we went out in an unfas.h.i.+onable direction we could get one for half the cost. I asked the agent, and he said there were any number to be had.

They run them up in a few months--rows and rows of them--quite nice, compact little houses, with all modern conveniences--”

”I know! Thank you,” interrupted Theo haughtily. ”I've seen them from the train--hundreds of them--exactly alike, with sunflowers in the front garden, and the was.h.i.+ng in the back, and such nice, sociable neighbours over the palings!”

”It's all very well, Theo, but can we afford to be sn.o.bbish? We shall have to pocket our pride, and save every penny-piece that is possible.

If the house would be cheaper--”

”I'm not so sure that it would. It is different for a man and his wife.

But you must remember that we should have four, perhaps five railway contracts to add to the rent. Our great object is to be near our work, and we might almost as well stay where we are as bury ourselves in an out-of-the-way suburb. If we go to the flat, Madge will be almost next door to the Slade School, the boys can come home for lunch, and Hope and I will be near libraries and concerts, and have some chance of picking up odd pieces of work. Suppose I go in for journalism? How am I to be in the hum of things when I live a dozen miles away, and have probably a bad service of trains?”

”Suppose I get accompanying to do at concerts? I intend to call on some of the lady professionals who sing father's songs and ask them to give me a chance. I shall have to get used to going about by myself at night, but it would be nice to be in a central position, and not have _too_ far to go,” said Hope wistfully; and her eldest sister, looking at her golden locks and sweet pink-and-white face, came to a sudden determination.

”We will take the flat. It's no use doing things by halves. We must hope to save the money in travelling expenses and lunches. I will write to the agent and settle it to-night.”