Part 27 (2/2)

”Pictures ain't meant to be looked at close,” said Miss Squibb, ”an'

any'ow you can't expect to 'ave everythink in this world. Some people's never satisfied without they're finding fault in things!”

John, feeling that her final sentence was a direct rebuke to himself, hurriedly looked away from the picture.

”There's a good view from the window,” he said to console her for his depreciation of the picture.

”That's wot I often says myself,” she replied. ”People says it's 'igh up 'ere an' a long way to climb, but wot I says is, it's 'ealthy when you get 'ere, _and_ you 'ave a view. I'll leave you now,” she concluded. ”When you've 'ad a wash, your supper'll be waitin' for you.

in Mr. 'Inde's sitting-room. I expect you'll be glad to 'ave it!”

”I shall,” he replied. ”I'm hungry!”

”Yes, I expect so,” she said, closing the door.

He sat down on the bed and again looked about the room, and the dreariness of it filled him with nostalgia. He had not yet unpacked his trunk or his bag, and he felt that he must immediately carry them down the stairs again, that he must call for a cabman and have his luggage and himself carried back to Euston Station so that he might return to his home. The clean air of Ballyards and the bright sunlit bedroom over the shop seemed incomparably lovely when he looked about the dingy Brixton bedroom. If this was the beginning of adventure!... He gazed at the picture of Daniel in the Lions' Den, and wished that a lion would eat Daniel or that Daniel would eat a lion!...

Then he went to the washstand and washed his face and hands, and when he had done so, he went downstairs and ate his supper.

III

In the morning, there was a thump on his bedroom door, and before he had had time to consider what he should do, the door opened and a girl entered, carrying a tray. ”Eight o'clock,” she said, ”an' 'ere's your breakfast! Aunt said you'd better 'ave it in bed 'smornin', after your journey!”

She set the tray down on the table so carelessly that she spilled some of the contents of the coffee-pot.

”Aunt forgot to ask would you have tea or coffee, so she sent up coffee. Mr. 'Inde always 'as coffee, so she thought you would, too! An'

there's a 'add.i.c.k. Mr. 'Inde likes 'add.i.c.k. It ain't a bad fis.h.!.+”

John looked at her as she arranged the table. Her abrupt entry into the room, while he was in bed, startled him. No woman, except his mother, had ever been in his bedroom before, and it horrified him to think that this strange young woman could see him sitting in his nights.h.i.+rt in bed. He had never in his life seen so untidy a woman as this. Her hair had been hastily pinned together in a shapeless lump on the top of her head, and loose ends straggled from it. Her dress was _on_ her ...

that was certain ... but _how_ it was on her was more than he could understand. She seemed to bristle with safety-pins!...

Her total lack of shame, in the presence of a man, undressed and in bed, caused him to wonder whether she was one of the Bad Women against whom Mr. McCaughan had so solemnly warned him. If she, were, the warning was hardly necessary!...

”I think you got everythink?” she said briskly, glancing over the table to see that nothing was missing.

He saw now that, she bore some facial resemblance to Miss Squibb. She was not, as that lady was, ashen-hued, but her eyes, though less prominently, bulged. This must be Lizzie!...

”Who are you?” he asked, as she turned to leave the room. ”Eih?”

”What's your name? I've not seen you before!”

”Naow,” she exclaimed, ”I've been awy! I'm Lizzie. 'Er niece!”

She nodded her head towards the door, and he interpreted this to mean Miss Squibb.

”Oh, yes,” he said. ”She told me about you. Were you very late last night?”

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