Part 18 (1/2)
”Your mother? Not she,” returned Hannah with a sniff of contempt. ”Catch her a-cryin' over anything 'cept when she hasn't won a prize in a lottery. But come you in. I've ever so much to tell you. You'd best be off Reuben. I'll see you later.”
Reuben who was one of the men employed at Coupland's soap works in the Old Bailey, looked a little disappointed, but he obeyed nevertheless.
”You've given us a pretty fright and your lady mother's been in a mighty tantrum. I tell you it's a wonder as she didn't tear my eyes out. She swore as it was all my fault a lettin' you go. But what have you come back for?”
”I had to. But don't bother, it's only for a few hours. Mother's out I know.”
”Course she is. Simpson the cattle dealer's a-beauing her to Marybone Gardens. They won't be back this side o' midnight. Now just tell me what you been a-doin' of. You're a pretty bag o' mischief if ever there was one. Who's the man this time? T'aint the one as you runned away with, is it?”
”No, indeed,” cried Lavinia, indignantly. ”I don't want ever to see him again.”
”Well, your mother does,” returned Hannah with an odd kind of laugh.
”Whatever for?”
”I'll let you have the story d'rectly, but you tell me your tale first.”
By this time they were in the shop and Hannah caught sight of Lavinia's white, drawn face and her tear-swollen eyes.
”You poor baby. What's your fresh troubles?”
”Nothing--that is, not much. I'm tired. I'm faint. Give me some coffee--cocoa--anything.”
Faint indeed she was. At that meal with Lancelot Vane she had eaten very sparingly. She was too excited, too much absorbed and interested in seeing him so ravenous to think of herself. In addition she had gone through much fatigue.
”Coffee--cocoa--to be sure,” cried the kindly Hannah, ”an' a hot b.u.t.tered cake besides. You shan't say a word till I've gotten them ready.”
The cook had gone. There was no one in the house save Hannah. The two went into the kitchen where the fire was burning low--with the aid of the bellows Hannah soon fanned the embers into a flame and she was not happy until Lavinia had eaten and drank.
Then Lavinia told the story of her adventures, hesitatingly at first and afterwards with more confidence seeing that Hannah sympathised and did not chide or ridicule.
”An' do 'ee mean to tell me you're going to Twitenham to-morrow?”
Lavinia nodded.
”What, over a worthless young man who gets drunk at the first chance he has?”
Lavinia fired up.
”He's not worthless and he wasn't drunk.”
”Hoity-toity. What a pother to be sure. Well, I'll warrant he is by this time.”
”How do you know? If he is it won't be his fault. The others were drinking and filling his gla.s.s. I saw them, the wretches,” cried Lavinia with heightened colour. ”But it is nothing to me,” she went on tossing her head. ”Why should I bother if a man drinks or doesn't drink?”
”Why indeed,” said Hannah ironically. ”Since you don't care we needn't talk about him.”
”No, we won't, if you've only unkind things to say.”
”Eh, would you have me tell you how well you've behaved and how good you are? First you run away to be married to a man you don't care for, and in the next breath you take no end of trouble and tire yourself to death over another man you say you don't care for either. Are you going through your life like that--men loving you and you leaving them?”