At this hour when it was too early for dinner and too late for tea,
the shop was almost empty and a lady who was sitting in full view of
the door and who started at Hannah's entry, immediately repressed all
signs of dismay and resigned herself to the impossibility of avoiding
recognition. She laid down her knife and fork while Hannah, on her
part, advanced with every appearance of enthusiasm.
'Lilla! What luck!' she exclaimed loudly, and then chuckled contentedly
as her eyes, which were not quite brown, or green, or grey, surveyed
all that was visible of the seated figure. 'Just the same!' she
murmured, and her large, amiable mouth was tilted at the corners. 'If
I'd pictured how you'd look if I met you--but to tell the truth, Lilla,
I haven't been thinking of you lately--I should have imagined you
exactly as you are. That hat--so suitably autumnal, but not wintry--'
'For goodness' sake, sit down Hannah, and lower your voice a little.
What on earth are you doing here?'
Hannah sat down, and on the chair occupied by Mrs. Spenser-Smith's
elegant, monogrammed handbag, she placed her own shabby one, with a
deliberate comparison of their values which made Lilla jerk her head
irritably, but there was nothing envious in Hannah's expression when
she looked up.
'And your coat!' she went on. 'It's wonderful how your tailor
eliminates that tell-tale thickness at the back of the middle-aged
neck. But perhaps you haven't got one. Anyhow, you look very nice and
it's a pleasure to see you.'
Mrs. Spenser-Smith blinked these compliments aside and remarked, 'I
thought you were in Bradford, or some place of that sort.'
'Not for years,' Hannah said, peering across the table at Lilla's
plate. 'What are you eating? And why? Have you caught the restaurant
habit, or haven't you got a cook?'
'I've had the same cook for more than ten years,' Mrs. Spenser-Smith
replied loftily.
'I call that very creditable,' Hannah said, beckoning to the waitress
and ordering her coffee and bun. 'I wish you'd ask her how it's done.'
'By giving satisfaction,' Mrs. Spenser-Smith replied loftily.
'And getting it, I suppose,' Hannah sighed. 'Oh well! What you get
on the swings, you lose on the roundabouts, and I'd rather have my
experience than her character, for what, after all, can she do with
it, except keep it? And it must be an awful responsibility. Worse than
pearls, because you can't insure it.'
'On the contrary,' Mrs. Spenser-Smith began, but Hannah held up a hand.
'I know. I know all the moral maxims. It sounds so easy. But then, all
employers are not like you, Lilla. This coffee smells very good, but
alas, how small the bun appears! Yes, your servants are well fed, I
haven't a doubt, and I'm sure their bedrooms are beyond reproach. You
should see the one I'm occupying now! It's in the basement, among the
beetles. The servant sleeps in the attic, safe from amorous policemen.
Don't frown so anxiously, Lilla. I am obviously in no danger.' She
sat back in her chair and shut her eyes. 'But I can hear the ships. I
can hear the ships as they come hooting up the river. D'you know what
nostalgia is? It's what I was suffering from when, as you put it, I was
in "some place of that sort." So I spent some of my hard-earned--'
'Don't shout,' Mrs. Spenser-Smith begged.
'It doesn't matter. With your well-known charitable propensities, I
shall only be taken for one of your hangers-on--which I may be yet,
I warn you. I spent quite a lot of money on Nonconformist religious
weeklies, and very nearly re-established my character by reading them
ostentatiously. But it was the advertisements I was after. I wanted to
be in Radstowe, and Radstowe, I knew, would proclaim its needs in the
religious weeklies. I took the first offer, at a pittance, too late to
see the lilacs and laburnums, but in time for what, I'm sure, you call
the autumn foliage, Lilla dear. And,' she added sadly, 'I shan't last
until next spring and it was the spring I wanted, for to-night, as ever
is, I fear I'm going to get the sack.'
Mrs. Spenser-Smith frowned again, and after an anxious, exploring
glance which, happily, lighted on no face she knew, she said sharply,
'And you sit here, eating cakes!'
Lifting her level eyebrows, Hannah looked with amusement at her plate,
where there was a scattering of crumbs. 'I was always reckless,' she
murmured, and then, with an air of being politely eager to shift the
conversation from herself, she asked effusively, 'And how is Ernest?
And how are the children? I should love to see the children!'
'They're at school,' said Mrs. Spenser-Smith, promptly putting an end
to Hannah's hopes. 'Ernest, as usual, is quite well. He overworks, of
course,' she added, between pride and resignation. 'And now, Hannah,
what's this about losing your situation? And do tell me the truth--if
you can. Who are you living with?'
'A tall, gaunt woman with a false hair-front. Dresses in black--I'm
supposed to be mending her second best at this moment. Even her stays
are black and they reach from her arm-pits to her knees. Wears black
beads in memory of the departed and has his photograph, enlarged and
tinted, on an easel in the drawing-room. Lives in Channing Square, name
of Widdows. Prophetic! I suppose that's why he risked it.'
'Don't be vulgar, Hannah. I think jokes about marriage are in the very
worst taste. Widdows? I've never heard of her.'
'Perhaps that's why she's so unpleasant,' Miss Mole said gently.
The robin-brightness of Mrs. Spenser-Smith's brown eyes was dimmed
with disapproval. She was not stupid, though she chose to let Hannah
think her so, and she said severely, 'According to you, Hannah, every
employer you've ever had was objectionable.'
'Not all,' Hannah said quickly, 'but naturally, the ones I loved I
lost--through no fault of my own. They were exceptional people. The
others? Yes, what can you expect? It's the what-d'you-call-it of the
position, and perhaps--it's a long chance but perhaps--there are people
who find Mrs. Widdows lovable.'
'You don't adapt yourself,' Mrs. Spenser-Smith complained. 'It was the
same at school. You were always kicking against authority. But you
ought to have learnt sense by this time and if you leave this Mrs.
Widdows, what are you going to do?'
'I don't know,' said Miss Mole, 'but I really think I'll have another
bun. I've got a spare twopence halfpenny in my pocket. I earned it--by
sleight-of-hand. Yes, another of those excellent buns, please, and a
curranty one. Doctors,' she informed Mrs. Spenser-Smith, 'tell us that
currants have sustaining properties, and I badly need them. I don't
know what I'm going to do and I'm not worrying about it much. I've got
a whole month for making plans and I always enjoy the month I'm under
notice. I feel so free and jolly, and there have been occasions when
I've been asked to stay on, after all. Happiness,' she said, a slight
oiliness in her tone, 'is a great power for good, is it not?'
'Tut!' said Mrs. Spenser-Smith. 'Don't try any of that with me! I know
you too well.'
Miss Mole chuckled. 'But not so very well--in Radstowe. I've been
careful of your reputation. I haven't told a soul that we're related.
I didn't even put you to the inconvenience of letting you know I was
here. You should give me credit for that. And if I'd said I was the
cousin, once removed, of Mrs. Spenser-Smith, that old black cat might
have been different for, of course, everybody knows who you are! But
there, I never think of myself!'
'If you'd been entirely penniless, it would have been much better for
you,' Lilla pronounced distinctly. 'I suppose that house of yours is
let?'
'House?' said Hannah. 'Oh, you mean my teeny-weeny cottage.'
'You get the rent from that, don't you?'
'I suppose so,' Hannah said, smiling oddly, 'but really, my money has
such a trick of slipping through my fingers--'
'Then you can't go there, when you leave your situation. You'd better
eat humble pie, Hannah, for what's to become of you I don't know.'
'Well,' said Miss Mole in a drawl, 'it's just possible that I might
find myself in your nice red and white house, and no later than
to-morrow, for I may be dismissed without warning. In your nice house,
behind the lace curtains and the geraniums and the gravel sweep, having
my breakfast in bed, though I'm afraid my calico night-gowns might
shock your housemaid.'
'I wear calico ones myself,' said Mrs. Spenser-Smith, putting the seal
of her approval on them.
'But I don't suppose your housemaid does.'
'And breakfast in bed is not what you want, Hannah.'
'That's all you know about it,' Hannah said.
'What you want,' Lilla continued, 'is a place where you'll settle down
and be useful, and if you're useful you'll be happy. Now, can't you
make up your mind to please this Mrs. Widdows?'
'She doesn't want to be pleased. She's been longing for the moment when
she could turn me out and find another victim, and now she's got it.
And I'm not afraid of starving while I have a kind, rich cousin like
you, dear. And an old school-fellow, too! What I want at my age, which
is your own, is a little light work. In a house like yours, you can
surely offer me that. You must want someone to arrange the flowers and
sew the buttons on your gloves, and I shouldn't expect to appear at
dinner when there's company. You wouldn't have to consider my feelings,
because I haven't got any, and if the cook gave notice, I could cook,
and if the parlourmaid gave notice, I should be tripping round the
damask.'
'Yes, I daresay! And spilling the gravy on it! And, as it happens, my
servants don't give notice. At the first sign of discontent, they're
told to go.'
'That's the way to treat them!' Hannah cried encouragingly. 'But if
they fell ill, Lilla,' she leant forward coaxingly, 'think what a
comfort I should be to you! And you know, Ernest had always a soft spot
in his heart for me.'
'Yes,' said Lilla, 'Ernest's soft spots are often highly inconvenient.
To-day, for instance, when I wanted the car to take me home after a
busy afternoon, he chooses to lend it to someone else. I have to be at
the chapel this evening for the Literary Society Meeting and I should
be worn out if I made two journeys across the Downs beforehand.'
'Good for your figure,' Hannah said. 'The time may come when your
tailor won't be able to cope with it. So that's why you're dining out.
I should like to see you at the Literary Meeting, trying not to yawn.
What's the subject?'
'Charles Lamb.'
'Hardy annual,' Hannah muttered, twitching her nose.
'It's a duty,' Mrs. Spenser-Smith said patiently, yet with a touch of
grandeur. 'I'd much rather stay at home with a nice book, but these
things have to be supported, for the sake of the young people.'
'Ah yes, but it isn't the young people who go to them. It's the old
girls, like myself, who have nothing else to do. I've seen them,
sitting on the hard benches, half asleep, like fowls gone to roost.'
'They'll go to sleep to-night,' Lilla admitted, 'though,' she added as
she remembered to keep Hannah in her place, 'I don't see why you should
try to be funny at their expense. Trying to be funny is one of your
failings.'
Miss Mole answered meekly. 'I know I ought never to see a joke unless
my superiors make one, and then I've got to be convulsed with admiring
merriment. I've no right to a will nor an opinion of my own, but
somehow--I'm that contrary!--I insist on laughing when I'm amused and
exercising my poor intelligence. Let me come with you to-night, Lilla,
and I might make a speech.'
'You might make a fool of yourself,' said Mrs. Spenser-Smith, picking
up her modestly rich fur necklet and settling it at her throat. 'Go
back to Channing Square, at once, and do, for goodness sake, try to see
which side your bread is buttered. And, in any case, Mr. Blenkinsop's
lecture wouldn't entertain you. He's rather a dull young man. What's
the matter?' she asked, for Hannah had put down the bun she was lifting
towards her mouth and the mouth remained open.
'Such a funny name!' Hannah murmured. She leaned back and folded her
hands on her lap. 'I like to coordinate--or whatever the word is--my
impressions with other people's facts. Now, that name. I should have
suspected its owner of being a dull young man, a rather owlish young
man, with a Biblical Christian name. Am I right?'
'His name is Samuel,' said Mrs. Spenser-Smith, impatient with this
topic.
'And he's a member of your chapel?'
'Not a very worthy one, I'm sorry to say. He's highly irregular.'
Now Hannah leaned forward, her eyes sparkling. 'You're not going to
tell me he's a bit of a rake?'
The droop of Mrs. Spenser-Smith's eyelids effaced a world which had any
acquaintance with rakes. 'Irregular in his attendance on Sundays,' she
said coldly.
'That upsets one of my theories, but it's interesting. Are you going,
Lilla? Try to find a corner for me in your red and white house. I've
been past it several times. I like the colour scheme. The conjunction
of the yellow gravel with the geraniums--'
'The geraniums are over,' Lilla said, 'and what colour do you expect
gravel to be? I shall ask Ernest if he knows of any suitable post for
you.'
'Ernest's reply will be obvious. You'd better not ask him.'
'And then I'll write to you.'
'Don't bother, don't bother,' Miss Mole said airily. 'I'll come
to tea one afternoon. These,' she smiled maliciously, 'are not my
best clothes--but very nearly. My shoes, however,' she thrust out a
surprisingly elegant foot, 'will always stand inspection.'
Mrs. Spenser-Smith gave an unwilling, downward glance. 'Absurd!' she
said. 'You've no sense of proportion.'
'Yet I risked this one,' Hannah pointed to her right foot, 'without a
thought for its beauty. Fortunately, it's hardly scratched.' She looked
up, her face rejuvenated by mischief. 'I broke a window with it, Lilla.'
Incredulity struggled with curiosity in Mrs. Spenser-Smith, and
curiosity with her determination to deny Hannah the pleasure of
thinking herself interesting. 'Pooh!' she said lightly, and then her
unpractised imagination took a clumsy flight. 'You don't mean to tell
me that woman had locked you out of the house?'
'I don't mean to tell you anything,' Miss Mole said sweetly, and with
the smile on her lips she watched her cousin's admirable exit which was
designed to show the increasing number of people in the shop that she
was of very different quality from that of the person she left behind
her.