"Why. Willie, did you not tell me long ago that there was a fire in
your bosom, lit up by a certain young friend of Miss Tippet's--"
"Oh," interrupted Willie, "Emma Ward; ah, yes, I confess that I did feel
spooney once in that direction when I was a boy, but the fairy displaced
her long ago. No, no, Frank, I'm not accountable for boyish fancies.
By the way, I have just parted from the fair Emma. We had a
_tete-a-tete_ here not half an hour before you arrived."
"Here!" exclaimed Frank in surprise.
"Ay, here," repeated Willie; "she passes this pond every morning, she
told me, on her way to teach a family in Kensington; by the way, I
didn't think of asking whether the father, mother, and servants were
included among her pupils. Why, Frank, what an absent frame of mind you
are in this morning! I declare it is not worth a man's while consulting
you about anything."
"I beg pardon," cried Frank quickly, "your words caused my mind to
wander a bit. Come, what do you think of doing?"
"What do you think I should do? that is the question."
"You can offer to assist them," suggested Frank. "I've done so," said
the other, "but Ziza won't accept of assistance."
"Could we not manage to get her a situation of some sort with light work
and good pay?"
"Ah! a fireman's, for instance," cried Willie, with a sarcastic laugh;
"did you ever hear of a situation with light work and good pay except
under Government? _I_ never did; but we might perhaps find _steady_
work and good pay. It would only be required for a time, because I mean
to--ah, well, no matter--but how and where is it to be got? Good Mr
Tippet is of no use, because he is mad."
"Mad, Willie!"
"Ay, mad as a March hare. For years back I have suspected it, but now,
I am sure of it; in fact I feel that I have gradually come to be his
keeper--but more of that anon. Meanwhile, what is to be done for the
Cattleys?"
"Could nothing be done with Mr Auberly?"
Willie shook his head.
"No, I fear not. He was in a soft state once--long ago--six or seven
years now, I think--when the dear fairy was ill and he seemed as if he
were going to become a man; but his daughter Loo had just begun to be
ill at that time. She's been so long ill now that he has got used to
it, and has relapsed again into an oyster."
"He might be reached through Loo yet," said Frank.
"Perhaps," replied Willie, "but I doubt it, for he's a blunt old fellow
in his feelings, however sharp he may be in his business; besides, Loo
is so weak now that very few are allowed to see her except Ziza, and
Miss Tippet, and Emma Ward."
The brothers remained silent after this for some time, for neither of
them could see his way out of their difficulties; at last Frank
suggested that Willie should go home and consult his mother.
"She is wise, Willie, and has never given us bad advice yet."
"I know what her first advice will be," said Willie.
"What?" asked Frank.
"To go and pray about it," answered Willie.
"Well, she might give worse advice than that," said Frank, with much
earnestness. "In fact, I doubt if she could give better."
"True," assented Willie, "and now, old fellow, I'm off. Mr Tippet
likes punctuality. I'll look in at the station in passing if anything
turns up to clear my mind on these matters; meanwhile good-bye."
It is a remarkable fact that Frank Willders took an early walk, as
frequently as possible, in Kensington Gardens, near the pond, after this
conversation with his brother, and it is a still more remarkable fact,
that he always felt like a guilty man on these occasions, as if he were
taking some mean advantage of some one; yet it was certain that he took
advantage of no one, for nobody ever met him there by any chance
whatever! A fact even more remarkable still was, that never, after that
day, did Emma Ward go to her duties through Kensington Gardens, but
always by the Bayswater Road, although the latter was dusty and
unpicturesque compared with the former; and it is a circumstance worthy
of note, as savouring a little of mystery, that Emma acted as if she too
were a guilty creature during her morning walks, and glanced uneasily
from side to side as she went along, expecting, apparently, that a
policeman or a detective would pounce upon her suddenly and bear her off
to prison. But, whether guilty or not guilty, it is plain that no
policeman or detective had the heart to do it, for Miss Ward went on her
mission daily without molestation.
It is not easy to say what was the cause of these unaccountable
proceedings. We might hazard an opinion, but we feel that our duty is
accomplished when we have simply recorded them. Perhaps love had
something to do with them--perhaps not--who knows?