"Come, now, I really don't see why you should be so very much pleased to
hear that. I'm young, it is true, but I'm old enough, and I have a good
business, with brilliant prospects, and there appears to me no reason on
earth why I should not marry if I felt so disposed."
"None in the world, Willie," said Frank, with some haste, "but you tell
me you are not thinking of that just now; so pray let's hear what you've
got to say."
"Oh! it's all very well in you, old Blazes, to change the subject in
that way, but I'm nettled at your implied objection to my getting
married if I choose. However, we won't quarrel over it, so here goes
for the point."
Willie's bantering manner instantly left him. He walked in silence for
a few seconds, as if he pondered what he had to say.
"There are two points which trouble me just now, Frank, and I want your
opinion in regard to them. The first is, Miss Tippet. She is a small
point, no doubt, whether we regard her physically or mentally, but she
is by no means a small point if we regard her socially, for the good
that that little woman does in a quiet, unobtrusive way is almost
incredible. D'ye know, Frank, I have a sort of triumphant feeling in
regard to the sour, cynical folk of this world--whom it is so impossible
to answer in their fallacious and sophistical arguments--when I reflect
that there is a day coming when the meek and lowly and unknown workers
for the sake of our Lord shall be singled out from the multitude, and
their true place and position assigned them. Miss Tippet will stand
higher, I believe, in the next world than she does in this. Well, Miss
Tippet has been much out of sorts of late, mentally; and Mr Tippet, who
is the kindest man alive, has been very anxious about her, and has
begged of me to try to counsel and comfort her. Now, it is not an easy
matter to comply with this request, because, in the first place, Miss
Tippet does not want me to counsel or comfort her, so far as I know;
and, in the second place, my motives for attempting to do so might be
misunderstood."
"How so?" exclaimed Frank quickly.
"Well, you know, Miss Ward lives with her," said Willie, with a modest
look.
There was again something peculiar about Frank's expression and manner,
as he said, "Well, it would not signify much, I daresay, if people were
to make remarks about you and Miss Ward, for you know it would not be
misconstruction after all."
"What mean you?" asked Willie in surprise.
"You remember what you once said to me about your bosom being on fire,"
pursued Frank. "I suppose the fire has not been got under yet, has it?"
Willie burst into a loud laugh.
"Why, Blazes, do you not know--? But, no matter; we came here to talk
of business; after that is done we can diverge to love."
Willie paused here again for a few seconds and then resumed:
"You must know, Frank, that the cause of Miss Tippet's disturbance just
now is the strange conduct of her landlord, David Boone, who has been
going on of late in a way that would justify his friends putting him in
an asylum. His business affairs are, I fear, in a bad way, and he not
only comes with excessive punctuality for Miss Tippet's rent, but he
asks her for loans of money in a wild incoherent fashion, and favours
her with cautions and warnings of a kind that are utterly
incomprehensible. Only the other night he came to her and asked if she
did not intend soon to visit some of her friends; and on being informed
that she did not, he went further and advised her to do so, saying that
she was looking very ill, and he feared she would certainly get into bad
health if she did not. In fact, he even said that he feared she would
die if she did not go to the country for a few weeks. Now, all this
would be laughable, as being the eccentricity of a half-cracked fellow,
if it were not that he exhibits such a desperate anxiety that his advice
should be followed, and even begged of the poor lady, with tears in his
eyes, to go to visit her friends. What d'ye think of it, Frank? I
confess myself utterly nonplussed."
"I don't know what to think," said Frank after a pause. "Either the man
must be mad, or he wishes to rob Miss Tippet's house in her absence."
Willie admitted that the first supposition might be true, but he held
stoutly that the second was impossible, for Boone was too honest for
that. They conversed for some time on this point, and both came
ultimately to the conclusion that the thing was incomprehensible and
mysterious, and that it ought to be watched and inquired into. Willie,
moreover, said he would go and consult his friend Barret about it.
"You know Barret, Frank?"
"No; but I have heard of him."
"Ah, he's a first-rate fellow--in one of the insurance offices--I forget
which. I came to know him when I first went to Mr Tippet's. He lived
then in the floor below us with a drunken companion whom he was anxious
to reclaim; but he found him so hard to manage that he at last left him,
and went to live in Hampstead. He and I became great friends when he
lived under our workshop. He got married two years ago, and I have not
seen much of him since, but he's a sharp fellow, and knows a good deal
more of the Tippets than I was aware of. I'll go and see if he can
throw any light on this subject."
"The next point," pursued Willie, "is Cattley the clown. Have you seen
or heard of him lately?"
Frank said he had not.
"Well, I am greatly troubled about him. He has become a regular
drunkard, and leads his poor daughter a terrible life. He is so broken
down with dissipation that he can scarcely procure employment anywhere.
His son is fortunately a pretty decent fellow, though somewhat wild, and
helps in a small way to support his father, having obtained a situation
as clown at one of the minor theatres. The daughter, Ziza, has long ago
given up the profession, and has been struggling to maintain herself and
her father by painting fire-screens, and making artificial flowers; but
the work is severe and ill paid, and I see quite well that if the poor
girl is not relieved in some way she will not be able to bear up."
"I grieve to hear this, Willie," said Frank, "but how comes it that you
take so great an interest in these people?"
"Frank," said Willie, assuming a tone of deep seriousness, while a glow
suffused his cheeks, "can you keep a secret?"
"I think so, lad; at least I promise to try."
"Well, then," said Willie, "I love Ziza Cattley. I knew her first as a
fairy, I know her now as a woman who is worthy of a place among the
angels, for none but those who know her well and have seen her fighting
the battle of life can have the least idea of the self-denial, the
perseverance under difficulties, the sweetness of temper, and the
deep-seated love of that devoted girl. She goes every night, after the
toil of each day, to the door of the theatre, where she waits to conduct
her father safely past the gin-palaces, into which, but for her, he
would infallibly stray, and she spends all she has in making him
comfortable, but I see well enough that this is killing her. She can't
stand it long, and I won't stand it at all! I've made up my mind to
that. Now, Frank, I want your advice."
To say that Frank was hearty in his assurances that he would do what he
could to help his brother, would be a faint way of stating the truth.
Frank shook Willie by the hand and congratulated him on having gained
the affections of one whom he knew to be a good girl, and then condoled
with him on that girl's unfortunate circumstances; but Willie stopped
him short at this point by asking him in a tone of surprise what could
be the matter with him, for at first he had been apparently annoyed at
the notion of his (Willie's) being in love, and now he seemed quite
pleased about it. In short, his conduct was unaccountable!