Part 40 (2/2)
Basil, on the whole, she began to rather like, though she still taunted and teased him mercilessly; but if he got at all sentimental, as he very much wanted to do, he was shut up in such a very summary fas.h.i.+on that it was quite an exercise in courage ever to approach the dangerous ground at all.
With the doctor's patients she was a great favourite. Being a poor practice, those who could usually fetched their medicines themselves, and others sent children; and for one and all Paddy had a cheery greeting, or a merry jest, from behind her rows of neatly-wrapped bottles. To a police sergeant, who started airing all his grievances at things in general at great length, she once said: ”What's the good of grumbling; it doesn't really help matters a bit. Do you know, if I stopped to think now, and then tried to express my feelings, I should just hurl all these bottles at your head, and anyone else's head who happened to come to the surgery.”
The sergeant of police was so impressed that he went away quite thoughtfully, and the next time he fetched medicine he brought her half a score of new-laid eggs from his own fowl run.
”I was thinkin' about you findin' it dull work corkin' up them bottles,”
he said a little shamefacedly, ”and them'll be as good as you got in the country, which you can't say of many eggs in London.”
But it was one day the following spring, fifteen months after she had first come to London, that a chance meeting in Regent street brought about the beginning of a great change in Paddy's life. It was amazing how trim, and neat, and smart she had become now; London must certainly have been said to suit her, for she had rounded and filled out into a charming figure; and, while taking pains with her dress and appearance, she still walked with the old light, free step of her country days, her head thrown well back and her eyes clear and frank as of old. Without the least effort or wish on her part, wherever she went she was almost sure to be noticed, even when with Eileen, who, however, must always absorb the lion's share of pa.s.sing homage. Mrs Adair was, indeed, justly proud of her two girls' increasing charms; while far away, under the sunny South American sky, across endless reaches of rolling gra.s.s, raced Jack--the other part of the Irish trio--likewise developing into a fine, strong, deep-hearted specimen of his s.e.x, immeasurably the better for his hard work and various hard experiences in the matter of roughing it generally.
On that particular spring afternoon, however, it is with a thin-faced, clean-shaven man, and a very striking, dark-eyed girl, who pa.s.sed up Regent Street and went into Fuller's to tea, that we have now to do.
The man was mostly silent, as was his wont; but the girl was chattering gayly, now and then drawing a smile to his lips; and from the amount of nods she dispensed in different directions it was very evident she knew and was known very well. After they had commenced their tea, the girl bethought her of some special kind of cream bun she particularly wanted, and her companion must needs go and hunt for it. While he was gone she looked round casually, and was presently enjoying in no small degree a lively altercation between two girls seated near as to which should pay for their tea. There was not much question from the beginning as to which would win, for the girl who first caught and held the watcher's fancy was unmistakably a young person who usually got her own way by hook or crook, and in this case she informed her companion of her intention in quite as original and outspoken a way as she did most things. Finally, they departed, and the dark-eyed stranger was quite sorry to see them go.
When her attendant knight returned with the cream buns in question, his usually impa.s.sive face wore the faintest suspicion of surprise, but he only placed her delicacies before her and said: ”There! now you can make yourself ill to your heart's content.”
”You ought to have been here a minute ago,” she said. ”There was such an amusing discussion between two girls about which should pay. I was immensely taken with one of them--she wasn't exactly pretty, but she looked so jolly, and she just carried everything before her in a most entertaining fas.h.i.+on. She's just the sort of girl I'd fall in love with if I were a man. Did you notice her? She was paying at the desk while you hunted up these cakes.”
”I did. It was Paddy Adair.”
”Paddy Adair!” in tones of amazement. ”Was that really Paddy Adair, Lawrence?”
”It was.”
”Goodness!” and Gwen grew quite contemptuous. ”Why you said she was plain and dowdy!”
Lawrence calmly continued his tea.
”So she was the last time I saw her.”
”Well, she isn't now, anyway. I call her quite striking, and she was distinctly well dressed.” There was a pause, then she added: ”Perhaps she's married, and got a man to choose her things for her. That's one thing husbands are sometimes good for; and some of them know a fair amount about hair-dressing too.”
”No, she's not married,” said Lawrence. ”Doreen was talking about them only the other day. They're living in Shepherd's Bush.”
”Shepherd's Bus.h.!.+” echoed Gwendoline. ”How awful, after their country home. But how London has smartened her up, hasn't it?”
”Astonis.h.i.+ngly.”
”I wish you had come back in time to speak to her,” continued Gwen.
”I'd like to be introduced.”
Meanwhile, Paddy walked down to Piccadilly Circus with Ethel Matheson, and then hurried back to get her 'bus in Oxford Street. On the way she dashed into a shop and bought some tomatoes, a favourite dish of her mother's--true to her nationality, acting on the spur of the moment, blissfully regardless of the fact that she could have got the same article for half the money at the other end of her 'bus ride. As she hurried past Fuller's Lawrence and Gwendoline came out, the latter catching sight of her instantly.
”There's Paddy Adair!” she exclaimed. ”Do stop her.”
Lawrence hesitated and in that second Paddy brushed too near a boy with a basket, the basket caught against her bag of tomatoes--carried no doubt in somewhat careless fas.h.i.+on--the paper split, and out sprawled the tomatoes all across the pavement in the midst of the rank and fas.h.i.+on of Regent Street.
”Christopher Columbus!” exclaimed Paddy under her breath and blus.h.i.+ng crimson, but quite unable to help laughing, as she commenced diving for her belongings among the feet of the pa.s.sers-by. A dark-eyed girl, enjoying the scrimmage immensely, rescued one from the gutter, while the man with her succeeded in getting three from various directions, and when Paddy at last turned to thank them, a lovely colour in her cheeks and a bewitching roguishness in her eyes, she found herself face to face with Lawrence Blake and his companion, each offering her a tomato.
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