GETTING NEARER
Mary drew back a moment to see what was going to happen. She ought to
have been utterly taken by surprise at her discovery, but she felt no
emotion of that kind. She was past the feeling--life had been too full
of thrilling incidents during the last few hours for that. It never
occurred to the girl that she had made a mistake. In an instant her
mind was made up. Very swiftly and silently she darted after Lady
Dashwood, and followed her into a room at the back of the house. There
was a grimy specimen of the London charwoman on the floor, scrubbing
the dirty boards apparently in readiness for the laying of a roll of
linoleum that stood in one corner. A bottle half filled with beer
ornamented the mantelpiece, and from this the worker on the floor
frequently refreshed herself, as her red face testified.
She looked up angrily as Lady Dashwood entered. The intruder had to
ask her question twice before she drew a reply.
"Mrs. Speed isn't in," the woman said, "and if she was, she would not
care to see any visitors as yet. We only moved in here last night, and
not so much as an odd man to help for love nor money, and me fit to
drop."
"I am sorry to hear that," Lady Dashwood said in her gentle manner, "I
have come up from the country especially to see Mrs. Speed. Can you
give me any idea what time she is likely to be back again?"
"No, I can't," was the surly reply, "not before tea-time anyway. If
you like to wait in the dining-room, you can do so--you don't look the
sort to go off with anything. And there's an armchair or two in
there."
As Lady Dashwood turned she came face to face with Mary. She stood
quite still, too utterly surprised to speak. Mary took her by the arm,
and led the way to the dining-room. She pushed one of the chairs
forward, and invited Lady Dashwood to sit down. Then Mary closed the
door. She smiled at the helpless amazement of Lady Dashwood's face.
"Mary, my dear child, what are you doing here?" the elder lady gasped.
"I might ask you the same question," Mary said. "What you regard as a
most strange coincidence has a very prosaic explanation. Oh, my
dearest, if you only knew how glad I am to see you again! If you only
knew how I have missed you. But I need not go into that now; there
will be plenty of time presently. My dear, I have been learning things
the last two days and have been making discoveries. You may not
believe it, but I am glad that I came here, yes, glad, glad!"
"You are looking fairly well," Lady Dashwood observed. "A little pale
and drawn, but there is something in your eyes that I never noticed
before. A sort of new strength and tenderness combined, not so hard
and proud. But you seem pale and tired."
Mary laughed. She had good reason to be pale and tired. She wondered
what Lady Dashwood would say when she heard last night's adventure.
"I am utterly worn out," she said frankly, "and yet I am glad I came
to London. You can't tell how much good it is doing me. Strange as it
may seem, I am quite happy, and all the more so because I am fighting
for the good of other people. Hitherto, I have never thought of
anybody but myself. As you know, I came up to London with an idea of
getting my own living. I was going to be very proud and independent. I
had a vague idea that being a Dashwood would make the ground clear for
me. I blush now to think of my ignorance and folly. But I am wandering
from the point. You will recollect that Mr. Darnley offered to ask a
friend of his in London to assist me.
"I refused the offer, of course, in my stupid way. But Connie Colam
met me at Victoria. What I should have done without her, goodness
knows. She was kindness itself to me. And in a very short time we
became fast friends. Fancy me, _me_, giving my heart to a girl who
lives in Bloomsbury, and gets her living by doing horrible drawings
for a low-class paper!"
"It seems strange," Lady Dashwood murmured, "I hope that she is----"
"My dear, Connie is a lady. Oh, if you only knew how my eyes have been
opened! And there is another girl, a lady, too, called Grace Cameron.
But you are going to meet them and satisfy yourself that I am not
degrading the great house of Dashwood. Grace Cameron is an invalid,
and last night we stayed at her house very late finishing some work
for her. We did not get home till past two in the morning. What do you
think of that for a Dashwood?"
Lady Dashwood could not repress a smile. It seemed very dreadful and
unconventional, but there was a glad, tender ring in Mary's voice that
the elder lady liked.
"We walked home through the streets at that hour," Mary went on, "and
when we reached our rooms the house was empty. Everything had gone!
And that brings me to the cause of my presence here at this moment.
Our landlady was Mrs. Speed, the woman who has just moved in here. She
had got into trouble over her rent; she was afraid that her furniture
was going to be sold up, and when we were out last night she had taken
everything away. No doubt the poor woman was half distracted, but it
was a cruel thing to do with us. She might have given us a hint. She
might have left our belongings behind. But she didn't and there we
were bereft of everything that we possessed in the world at two
o'clock in the morning."
"Oh, my darling," Lady Dashwood cried, "what did you do then?"
"There was nothing to do. We had very little money and nowhere to go.
So, as it was a fine night, we slept on the Thames Embankment and
breakfasted at a coffee stall in the morning. Mary Dashwood sleeping
in the streets! Fancy it! Today I discovered where Mrs. Speed had
gone, and I am here to demand the return of our goods and chattels.
But I can quite understand why you are here."
"What do you mean?" Lady Dashwood faltered.
"Well, I will tell you. When I went to Mrs. Speed's to share rooms
with Connie I was struck by the appearance of the woman. It seemed to
me that I had seen her before, and in some strange way she recalled my
very early childhood. I seemed to recollect the creature years and
years ago sitting in your boudoir and crying. She was wearing a black
dress. It is one of the fragments of memory that cling to one long
after the surrounding circumstances are forgotten. I could not get rid
of the feeling, and I asked the woman about it. She said I must be
mistaken, because she came from a place called Dashwood, near Dashwood
Hall. I doubt if she knew my name. I had my own reasons for not
betraying my identity as you can imagine, but when Mrs. Speed told me
that I knew that I was not mistaken. And knowing that she came from
the old place, I was not surprised to see you here after all."
Lady Dashwood's agitation deepened. Mary could see that she was
greatly moved.
"The woman spoke the truth," the elder lady whispered, "her people
lived on the estate for many generations. And for years I have lost
sight of her. I can't tell you the story, Mary, because it is not all
mine to tell. And this morning I received a telegram from Mrs. Speed
at this address saying that she was in great trouble and asking for an
interview. I did not send any answer to the telegram because I decided
to come in person. When things are explained, they always become more
simple."
"Not in this case," Mary said boldly. "My dear, I have found out
something far more important than that Mrs. Speed comes from Dashwood.
I was going to the kitchen to get a glass of milk yesterday morning
when I heard what sounded like a quarrel in the dining-room between
Mrs. Speed and some man. The man's voice sounded so familiar to me
that I stopped to listen. He was after some letters, the name of
Dashwood was mentioned--one letter was of the greatest importance. And
then the man came out; he did not see me, but I recognised him. Can
you guess who he was?"
Lady Dashwood made no reply for the moment. Her face had grown very
pale and her long, slim hand shook so that the rings on her fingers
shimmered in the light.
"You had better tell me," she ventured to say at length. "I fancy I
can guess, though I had not expected treachery as black as this. The
man was----"
"Sir Vincent Dashwood. Oh, there is no mistake about it. I saw him as
plainly as I see you at this moment. He had called at Keppel Terrace
to threaten and bully. It seems that he had had all Mrs. Speed's
savings. And he told her that if he could have that particular letter
he would let her have as much money as she needed. She spoke then of
the danger in which she stood in regard to her rent. She was going to
see the agent of the property the same day. Probably he would not wait
any longer, and hence the sudden flitting in the night. What does it
all mean, Lady Dashwood? Why should this Sir Vincent want that letter?
And how much longer are we all going to remain under the tyranny of
that man?"
Lady Dashwood made no reply. There was a sound of voices close by, and
in one of them Mary recognised the querulous tones of Mrs. Speed.
"Go and see her," Mary said, "I will wait here. But please do not
disclose my identity. And when you have finished, wait in the street
for me. My business with Mrs. Speed will not take long. After that, I
want you to come and see my new friends, I want you to know what
manner of life I am living. There are other things that I shall want
to know too, but they will keep for the present."