Part 8 (1/2)
”It's by a church, and the name is Friar, or Pryor, or--”
”There's a lot of churches,” said the cabman; ”and this ain't exactly the weather to stand here while you put on your considering cap, with the water pouring off one's hat enough to blind one.”
”It's St. Luke's Church. Yes, I am sure it's close to St. Luke's,”
Salome exclaimed. ”But Stevens will know--our nurse, who is in the omnibus.”
”You want a nurse, you do,” said the cabman, ”to guide you? Come now, I can't wait here all night.”
And now a shout was heard from the omnibus.
”The old lady wants to speak to you,” said the conductor. And Salome, looking out at the cab window, saw Stevens frantically making signals and trying to make her voice reach the cab.
”Oh, Stevens knows, Stevens knows the address,” and before more could be said, Reginald had jumped out and was soon climbing the steps of the omnibus to hear what Stevens said. He was back in a minute drenched with rain, and saying,--
”Close to St. Luke's Church--Elm Fields--Elm Cottage--Mrs. Pryor.”
”All right,” said the cabman. ”I know--Pryor the baker; I pa.s.s down by there from Whitelands often enough.” Then he climbed to his seat, the rain still falling in one continuous rush, and they were off.
”How idiotic of you, Salome, not to know the address,” said Raymond; ”and I do wish you would keep your hair tight. Look here!” And he gave one of the thick plaits a somewhat rough pull as it lay like a line of light upon Salome's black jacket. ”I saw St. Clair looking at it. You didn't take in who he was.”
”Some Eton swell, I suppose,” said Reginald.
”I thought he was very nice and kind,” said Salome.
”Nice and kind! He is Lord Felthorpe's son, and in the same house as I am at Eton. Old Birch always manages to get the right sort of fellows!
How could you be such an a.s.s, Reginald, as to travel third cla.s.s when I had taken a first cla.s.s ticket for you?”
”We ought all to have travelled third cla.s.s,” said Reginald stoutly.
”Mother said second; but there is no second on the Midland Railway, so I went third.”
”Well, just as you please,” said Raymond. ”I say, what a neighbourhood this is! not a good house to be seen,” and he wiped the window of the cab with his coat-sleeve.
Salome looked out from her window also.
”I don't remember this part of Roxburgh. It cannot be near Uncle Loftus's house, I think.”
”Oh no,” said Reginald; ”that is the swell part--Edinburgh Crescent and Maniston Square and the Quadrant. This is more like a part of Harstone.
Hallo!”
The cab had stopped at last.
”What are we stopping for?” exclaimed Salome.
”I expect this is the place,” said Reginald, ”for there is a baker's shop, and Pryor over it.”
”Nonsense,” said Raymond. But the cabman got down and tapped at the blurred gla.s.s, signing to Raymond to let it down, and saying, ”Now then, sir, look sharp!”