Part 55 (1/2)
Waymark glanced back and shrugged his shoulders.
”Pooh! Never mind,” he said. ”You're used to it.”
”Used to it! Yes,” Julian returned, his face flus.h.i.+ng suddenly a deep red, the effect of extraordinary excitement; ”and it is driving me mad.”
Then, after a fit of coughing--
”She found my poem last night, and burnt it.”
”Burnt it?”
”Yes; simply because she could not understand it. She said she thought it was waste paper, but I saw, I saw.”
The 'bus they waited for came up, and they went on their way. On reaching the neighbourhood of Peckham, they struck off through a complex of small new streets, apparently familiar to Waymark, and came at length to a little shop, also very new, the windows of which displayed a fresh-looking a.s.sortment of miscellaneous goods. There was half a large cheese, marked by the incisions of the tasting-knife; a boiled ham, garlanded; a cone of brawn; a truncated pyramid of spiced beef, released from its American tin; also German sausage and other dainties of the kind. Then there were canisters of tea and coffee, tins of mustard, a basket of eggs, some onions, boxes of baking-powder and of blacking; all arranged so as to make an impression on the pa.s.sers-by; everything clean and bright. Above the window stood in imposing gilt letters the name of the proprietor: O'Gree.
They entered. The shop was very small and did not contain much stock.
The new shelves showed a row of biscuit-tins, but little else, and from the ceiling hung b.a.l.l.s of string. On the counter lay an inviting round of boiled beef. Odours of provisions and of fresh paint were strong in the air. Every thing gleamed from resent scrubbing and polis.h.i.+ng; the floor only emphasised its purity by a little track where a child's shoes had brought in mud from the street; doubtless it had been washed over since the Sunday morning's custom had subsided. Wherever the walls would have confessed their bareness the enterprising tradesman had hung gorgeous advertising cards. At the sound of the visitors' footsteps, the door leading out of the shop into the parlour behind opened briskly, a head having previously appeared over the red curtain, and Mr. O'Gree, in the glory of Sunday attire, rushed forward with eager hands. His welcome was obstreperous.
”Waymark, you're a brick! Mr. Casti, I'm rejoiced to receive you in my establishment! You're neither a minute too soon nor a minute too late.
Mrs. O'Gree only this moment called out from the kitchen that the kettle was boiling and the crumpets at the point of perfection! I knew your punctuality of old, Waymark. Mr. Casti, how does it strike you?
Roaring trade, Waymark! Done two s.h.i.+llings and threepence three farthings this Sunday morning. Look here, me boy,--ho, ho!”
He drew out the till behind the counter, and jingled his hand in coppers. Then he rushed about in the wildest fervour from object to object, opening tins which he had forgotten were empty, making pa.s.ses at the beef and the ham with a formidable carving-knife, demonstrating the use of a sugar-chopper and a coffee-grinder, and, lastly, calling attention with infinite glee to a bad halfpenny which he had detected on the previous afternoon, and had forthwith nailed down to the counter, _in terrorem_. Then he lifted with much solemnity a hinged portion of the counter, and requested his visitors to pa.s.s into the back-parlour. Here there was the same perfect cleanliness, though the furniture was scant and very simple. The round table was laid for tea, with a spotless cloth, plates of a very demonstrative pattern, and knives and forks which seemed only just to have left the ironmonger's shop.
”We pa.s.s, you observe, Mr. Casti,” cried the ex-teacher, ”from the region of commerce to that of domestic intimacy. Here Mrs. O'Gree reigns supreme, as indeed she does in the other department, as far as presiding genius goes. She's in all places at once, like a birrud! Mr.
Casti,” in a whisper, ”I shall have the pleasure of introducing you to one of the most remarkable women it was ever your lot to meet; a phenomenon of--”
The inner door opened, and the lady herself interrupted these eulogies.
Sally was charming. Her trim little body attired in the trimmest of homely dresses, her sharp little face s.h.i.+ning and just a little red with excitement, her quick movements, her laughing eyes, her restless hands graced with the new wedding-ring--all made up a picture of which her husband might well be proud. He stood and gazed at her in frank admiration; only when she sprang forward to shake hands with Waymark did he recover himself sufficiently to go through the ceremony of introducing Julian. It was done with all stateliness.
”An improvement this on the masters' room, eh, Waymark?” cried Mr.
O'Gree. Then, suddenly interrupting him self, ”And that reminds me!
We've got a lodger.”
”Already?”
”And who d'ye think? Who d'ye think? You wouldn't guess if you went on till Christmas. Ho, ho, ho! I'm hanged if I tell you. Wait and see!”
”Shall I call him down?” asked Sally, who in the meantime had brought in the tea-pot, and the crumpets, and a dish of slices from the round of beef on the counter, and boiled eggs, and sundry other dainties.
O'Gree, unable to speak for mirth, nodded his head, and presently Sally returned, followed by--Mr. Egger. Waymark scarcely recognised his old friend, so much had the latter changed: instead of the old woe-begone look, Egger's face wore a joyous smile, and his outer man was so vastly improved that he had evidently fallen on a more lucrative profession.
Waymark remembered O'Gree's chance meeting with the Swiss, but had heard nothing of him since; nor indeed had O'Gree till a day or two ago.
”How do things go?” Waymark inquired heartily. ”Found a better school?”
”No, no, my friend,” returned Egger, in his very bad English. ”At the school I made my possible; I did till I could no more. I have made like Mr. O'Gree; it is to say, quite a change in my life. I am waiter at a restaurant. And see me; am I not the better quite? No fear!” This c.o.c.kneyism came in with comical effect. ”I have enough to eat and to drink, and money in my pocket. The school may go to ----”