Part 7 (1/2)

”Wonder if I can trust you, dear,” said Miss Rabbit, resting elbows.

”I've been so often taken in over friends.h.i.+ps with people that I suppose I'm more cautious than most. But there's a look about you--perhaps, though, I'd better keep on the safe side.”

”I'm not one to chatter.”

”I know, I know. That's why I've always took to you specially.” Again Miss Rabbit stopped. She stirred her cup of chocolate slowly.

”If it's good news,” advised Gertie, ”tell me. I can do with some just now. If it's not, keep it to yourself.”

”It's rather serious news, and that's why I think you ought to be told.

First of all, you must promise me, on your soul and honour, not to breathe a word of it to anybody. Above all, not to Madame.”

”I promise,” she said.

”Very well then”--with a satisfied air--”it's like this.” She leaned across the marble table. ”Our show is going to burst up.”

The dramatic announcement over, and the appropriate e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n, the correct look of amazement and despair given. Miss Rabbit warmed to her task, and became voluble; at each new paragraph of her discourse she exacted a fresh guarantee that the information would go no further, that the bond of absolute secrecy should be respected. Once, she felt it necessary to say that if the other communicated a single word of the confidences to any third party, she, Miss Rabbit, would feel it her duty to haunt Miss Higham to the last hour of her life. Put briefly, the news came to this. That Madame was in financial difficulties; that her name and address might be found in the bankruptcy list any coming Wednesday or Sat.u.r.day; that no one was likely to be stupid enough to take over the business; that the members of the staff, men and girls, would find themselves turned out into a cold, hard world. The drawback of being connected with a business of a special nature like theirs was that there existed but few of a similar nature, and these were already fully supplied with a.s.sistants. Miss Rabbit herself intended to look out for another berth ere the market became swamped by many applications; with piety, she called attention to a well-known text which said, ”Go thou and do likewise.” Outside the A.B.C. shop, Miss Rabbit, in extorting thanks for her generous behaviour, demanded, once more, a promise.

”Say it after me,” she ordered. ”'I will never utter a single syllable of all this to a solitary living soul.'” Her instructions complied with, she remarked that a great load was now taken from her mind, and asked Gertie for advice on the point whether to go home by omnibus or Tube railway.

The girl arrived at Praed Street after a brisk walk that was intended to detach the mind from disturbing incident. In the broad thoroughfare of Portland Place (which looked as though it started with the idea of being a long, important roadway to the north, and became suddenly reminded, to its great astonishment, that Regent's Park barred the way) she had glanced up at the large houses, and wished she lived in one; in that case she would receive Henry Dougla.s.s, at the end of the silence that had come since the last meeting, and after listening to him, reject his advances haughtily. That was the phrase. Reject his advances haughtily. She had read it more than once in the literature which attracted her in the days before Henry. Since she had known him, a course of reading, adopted at his suggestion, took her away from the more flowery and romantic pages, but in the old serial stories the folk had nothing to do but to make love to each other, with intervals for meals and rest; they were not restricted to evening hours; the whole day was at their service. And certainly the ladies never found themselves burdened with the anxiety of losing a weekly wage, in Great t.i.tchfield Street, and the prospect of difficulty in finding one to replace it.

”I'm home, aunt,” she announced, entering the shop.

”So I see,” remarked Mrs. Mills. Two customers were being served at the newspaper counter, and two were waiting on the tobacco side.

Gertie attended to the orders for cigarettes; the shop cleared.

”Is there a letter for me?” she asked.

Mrs. Mills shook her head curtly.

”Has--has any one called?”

”Now, let me think.” Her aunt deliberated carefully in the manner of a conscientious witness impressed by the taking of the oath. ”Yes, Miss Radford looked in and went again. Left word that she wanted you to go with her for an outing next Sat.u.r.day afternoon. Said she wanted a breath of fresh air. Mr. Trew is inside--and that reminds me, I've got something to say to him. Wait here, like a dear, and look after the shop.” Mrs. Mills closed the door carefully behind her as she went into the parlour.

”So, Mr. Trew, I packed him off about his business,” she said, obviously continuing a half-finished recital. ”I said, 'She asked me to tell you that she thought it better for both parties that you and her shouldn't see each other again.' Don't blame me, do you?”

Mr. Trew rubbed his chin with the knuckle of a finger and remarked that, by rights, he ought to have a shave.

”I stopped his two letters when they came,” went on Mrs. Mills. ”Many a woman in my position would have been curious enough to open them; I didn't. I simply put them in a drawer where they can be found when the trouble's all over. No one can blame me for that, surely.”

Mr. Trew mentioned that it was a rummy world, and the methods adopted by the people living in it did not make it the less rummy.

”I see what you mean,” she said aggrievedly. ”You think I've gone too far. But you yourself admitted at the start, when she was meeting that other young gentleman, that high and low never mixed well. And when I heard that this one was likely to come into property, I made up my mind to take the bull by the horns. What's that you say? Speak out, if you've got anything in your head.”

”When you take the bull by the horns,” said Trew, advancing to the white hearthrug, ”what happens is a toss up. I can't tell you yet whether you've done right or whether you've done wrong; but if you put the question to me a 'underd years hence, I shall be able to answer you. What's pretty clear to me is that you're fond of her, and I'm fond of her, and all we want is to see her comfor'ble and happy.

Whether you're taking the right track to gain that object is more than I can say. Personally, I shouldn't care to go so far as you've gone.”

”That's because you're a coward.”