It was all very well to accept the compliments that Mr. Hillier had
paid me, but as a matter of fact, whether a ray of sunshine, or a
mascot, or a sheet anchor, I felt as much disturbed by all that
was going on out in Belgium and France as anybody; if I woke up at
night, I was so anxious and depressed about it that I could not get
to sleep again. Looking back, it is possible to see how greatly one
was helped by the milkman's Russians. He never wavered from his first
announcement, and I am sure that at the present time he is confident
he was right, and official statements were wrong. Indeed, one was
receptive for any encouraging news at a time when a journal, on a
beautifully bright and summer-like Sunday, gave the question on its
poster, "Can the British Army be Saved?" and the thick black line on
the daily war maps bent lower and lower in the direction of Paris. And
at the fishmonger's, plaice was a shilling a pound. I tried to bargain
with the man, and he said bitterly that I could take it or leave it,
or, if I knew how, do both. Belgians were coming over, he added, in
their thousands, bringing no money, and we should have to keep them. In
a short time, he prophesied, the French people would arrive.
"We shall be eaten out of 'ouse and 'ome," said the fishmonger,
dismally, "and I 'alf wish the Germans were here now, and that it was
all over and done with!"
Master John and my Herbert wrote that they had been transferred
to Caterham for drill. Their letters were common property, and if
I received one I read it aloud, and if the family had one, I was
called in to listen. Miss Katherine began to take lessons from me in
cooking; Miss Muriel joined a sewing society and, clumsy enough at
first, and quite incompetent when put in charge of the cutting out,
did keep on at it, and showed herself ready to learn, willing to be
reproved for blunders. Master Edward I took off to the Council school,
and that disposed of him for five and a-half hours from Mondays to
Fridays; at first, he came home extremely contemptuous of what he
called the blighters, but in a few weeks he was bragging of Wilkinson,
and Perrett, and Moore, and other great lads of the educational
establishment. It was the subject of income that worried me. Money was
going out, day by day, and a ten shilling note seemed to vanish in no
time; not a penny was coming in. So soon as the amount representing the
sum due to me was exhausted, there would be left nothing but farthings
in the pillar box on the kitchen mantelpiece. Mr. Hillier looked
through the advertisements carefully, and occasionally wrote letters;
he became a special constable partly for the sake of filling up time.
Mrs. Hillier alone declined to make any change other than those which
circumstances forced upon her; now and again I was tempted to take her
by the elbows, and give her a good shake.
"I find Greenwich very soothing," she would say, complacently. "Ideal,
really!" The first cold day, and the falling of brown leaves out in the
park, made some impression on her, and she shivered slightly in making
any comments upon the fighting.
Master John, home on Sunday, gave us a description of his drill at
Caterham. He had experienced a fall at the gymnasium, and made light of
it, but his mother was concerned, and offered the view that Mr. Asquith
ought to be told. Master John said that turning out time in the morning
was half-past five; on the previous day he was on duty until a quarter
to ten at night. Nearly eight thousand men down there, all Guards,
and the Senior Medical Officer examined everyone, although the men
had been passed in London for general army service; Master John said
that about ten per cent. were rejected, and was content to announce
that he himself had gone through safely. Food rather poor at times;
occasionally it had to be taken without the assistance of plates.
"Your father must write to the papers about that," decided Mrs.
Hillier, warmly. "Gross carelessness on the part of somebody."
Master John said that everyone was eager to get out to the front. Now
that the Germans had been turned back from the Marne, and were on the
run northwards, the fear at Caterham was that it might not be possible
to arrive at the fighting district in time to take a share in the lark.
Mrs. Hillier said this would be scandalous.
It was soon after this that the milkman told Mrs. Hillier of the
imminent reduction in lighting; she declared that other people could,
of course, do as they pleased but she, for one, intended to take no
notice of the order. I argued with her, the young ladies argued with
her, but she was obstinate until Mr. Hillier took the matter in hand.
He gave a hint to the most serious of his colleagues who paid a call
one evening at Gloucester Place, and talked to Mrs. Hillier in a way
that she had probably never been spoken to before. After pointing out
the risks and the penalties, he remarked that neighbours would have no
alternative but to assume that she was in sympathy with the Germans.
Upon that Mrs. Hillier gave directions, and blinds were drawn, lights
carefully shaded. As I let the special constable out at the front door,
he said to me:
"A difficult lady to deal with, your friend upstairs."
And I had to agree with him. I sometimes wondered whether any
occurrence would effect an alteration in her.
She proved to be greatly annoyed by Miss Katherine's announcement.
Miss Katherine had told me of her intentions, but under the bond
of secrecy, and when she disclosed the fact that she had obtained
a position as clerk in a bank, you might have thought, from Mrs.
Hillier's deportment, that a lasting and intolerable disgrace had
come upon the family. Nothing ever upset Miss Katherine, and even in
our palmy days, she had always been the one to keep a serene temper;
she listened now to her mother's severe criticism, and explained that
the matter had been kept quiet for the reason that it was possible a
failure might have occurred over the examination.
"The news is bound to reach Chislehurst," bewailed Mrs. Hillier. "And
when we eventually go back there, I can't see, for the life of me, how
it is to be explained."
"We must put it down, mother, to temporary insanity on my part."
"That wouldn't answer," she declared seriously, "because everyone is
aware that there have been no signs of it on either your father's side
or mine."
"Hadn't thought of that," admitted Miss Katherine.
"Weston," said Mrs. Hillier, appealing to me, "is it, or is it not a
fact that in many cases a girl behaving in this way would, by some
parents, simply be cut off with a shilling?"
"If you wanted to do so, ma'am," I said, "you'd have to borrow it."
"Not very tactful of you, surely, to throw my misfortunes in my face."
"Has to be done, now and again, in order that you should be reminded of
them."
"Because I preserve calm," protested Mrs. Hillier, "whilst all around
me are losing their heads and behaving in a hysterical manner, it
does not mean, Weston, that I am indifferent to the events which are
happening. Katherine must write a letter to the authorities at once,
and say circumstances prevent--"
"You can't do that with a bank, ma'am. A bank has powers that a lot of
other firms don't possess. People never dream of arguing with a bank."
"I didn't know, Weston," she said, weakly.
"High time you did," I declared.
I was glad to have the prospect of some money coming in to the
household, and when Miss Katherine arrived home, after a day at office,
I took care there was a meal ready, saw that she went off each morning
in good time to catch her train to the City. I think the work must
have been trying, exacting probably for any young lady brought up, so
to speak, in cotton-wool, and I encouraged her to talk about it to me
and to her sister; Mrs. Hillier declined to listen to any reference to
the occupation. Miss Katherine, it appeared, reached the bank at ten
minutes to nine, and engaged sometimes on the work of entering up pass
books; occasionally she was given the task of writing up the waste book
where the cheques paid in, on account of other banks, and sent out,
were recorded. For the first time in her life, the girl discovered
the necessity of being exactly precise, completely correct. Mistakes
were not permitted. Miss Katherine described to me the machine called
a totalisator that reckoned any figure you gave it up to ninety-nine
thousand pounds.
I began to feel anxious again in regard to Mr. Hillier. He managed to
catch a cold whilst walking on his beat during the early hours of a
night, and thought of the expenses of a doctor worried me. I nursed the
cold, and made remedies, and whilst attending upon him there occurred
the opportunity of talking over his own prospects. He said, at the
start of the conversation, that these could scarcely be discussed at
any great length for the very sound reason that they did not exist; I
assured him it was his indisposition which forced him to take this view.
"But I am simply not wanted," he argued. "That's the long and short
of the matter, and when you have said that, there's nothing more to
be said." Mr. Hillier gave a movement of the shoulders that indicated
hopelessness. "The fact is, Weston, I was suited for one job in this
life; fairly well suited for it. If it had not been for the war, I
should have pulled round, and contrived to go on making an income. But
there seems nothing else that I am capable of doing."
"Surely you could be a clerk, sir, in some office, and earn thirty
shillings or a couple of sovereigns a week. You've got to pocket your
pride, you know, at a time like this."
"All the pride I have," he said, "could go into my waistcoat pocket.
The one that used to hold my watch. But it's impossible for me to go
and beg a situation from the men I used to know, and the men I don't
know just give a glance at me and shake their heads."
"But look here," I argued. "You're talking as though your's was a
singular case. There must have been many others who came a cropper last
August in the same way that you did. What are they doing now? They're
not all moping about, surely, and wearing a hump on their back!"
"I have met only one or two. And they pretended they hadn't a care in
the world, and I did the same."
"Oh, you men!"
"Face the difficulties of your position, Weston," he counselled, "and
recognise them, and don't commit the blunder of attempting to perform
impossibilities. The women of this family you may be able to manage,
and in doing that you are achieving more than I have ever been able to
do. But the men must go their own way."
"Trouble about some of you is that you don't know your own way, and you
are too independent to ask. Why, bless my soul, there's work just now
for everybody. Somewhere or other there's a job waiting for you."
"Wish it would give me a call," he said, earnestly.
I visited Millwood's shop in London Street, to settle for the articles
of furniture he had bought for me; I had looked in for this purpose
two or three times before, and discovered no one but a boy who appeared
to have few other qualifications but that of impudence. On this
occasion I noticed a small bill, lolling so carelessly in the window
that it was with some pains I made out the announcement, "This Business
to be Sold. Enquire Within." London Street was a thoroughfare where,
since I had known it, there had always seemed to be establishments
closed or on the point of closing; shutters were up at places, and, at
others, announcements of selling off. The cheeky boy said the governor
was not in, and would not be at home to receive company until six
o'clock; he added that the governor was a widower and preferred to
have nothing to do with ladies. "Me," explained the lad, "I'm just the
reverse. Never 'appier than when I'm in their company. Always able to
get a smile out of 'em." I made it clear to the youngster that he was
dealing with an exception to this pleasing rule: he affected terror,
and begged me not to be cross, or to do tricks with my features. He
spoke of one or two remarkably good films at the local picture palace
where the characters exercised this art with greater success, and
illustrated his assertion by depicting for my benefit, hate, acute
anxiety, murderous intentions, foiled villainy, triumphant love. I sat
in the least dusty of the arm chairs, and my interest gained the boy's
confidences: he told me that the occupation on which he was engaged
did not satisfy his wishes, and that he had some thought of making
his way to the interior of Germany, and there playing the part of an
ingenious and successful spy, worm out all the enemy's most important
secrets, and bring them back to be laid before our War Office. "One
shake of the hand from Kitchener," he declared, with emotion, "and I
sh'd feel I'd been amply repaid for my trouble." He was describing
further magnificent projects when my brother-in-law came in. He gave a
curt nod to the boy, and the young gentleman, after smoothing his hair
with both hands in front of a cracked looking glass, put on a roller
skate, and, uttering a piercing scream that conveyed satisfaction at
the relief from business duties, vanished.
"That's all right, Mary Weston," said Millwood, in taking the money.
"Glad you was satisfied with what I picked up for you. You're not a
easy one to please."
"I find you looking a deal brighter than when I saw you last."
"That remark, coming from the quarter it does, is scarcely intended to
be in the nature of a fulsome compliment. I know you mean it. And if
you want to know the reason, it is that I am working 'ard."
"About the last thing, Millwood, I should have expected you to do."
"A justifiable comment," he agreed. "I admit I was getting slack.
Loafing about in a business like this, and only moving when somebody
stopped outside to have a look at the furniture, was enough to make
anyone become blassy, as our friends across the water would put it.
I showed a card, I did--'Don't hope for the Best: come inside and
get It'--but it didn't stimulate matters. Now I'm at the Arsenal. A
mechanic at the Arsenal: that's what I am. Getting good money, and
earning it. I come back here of an evening, jolly well fagged out, and
uncommon pleased with myself. And now there's the chance of you making
one of your sarcastic snacks that you're reckoned pretty good at."
"Millwood," frankly, "you have every reason to feel pleased with
yourself."
"Thank you, Mary Weston. Wanted to get the idea, you see, that I was
doing something useful."
"There are one or two matters I'd like to talk to you about, but, first
of all, there's this shop. It's no use to you."
"It's a incubus," confessed Millwood.
"You are trying to get rid of it."
"Anyone can have it as a free gift, if they'll only let me go on living
over'ead."
"I'll take it off your hands."
Directly I had said this, and Millwood had recovered from his surprise,
he began to hedge; I expected this. He explained that the phrase
"a free gift" was used in a metaphorical sense, and that if he had
realised he was talking to a likely purchaser, he would, of course,
have selected his words more carefully. Millwood was a haggler from
long practise, and I was something of a bargainer by habit, and we
spent a very pleasant hour in coming to terms, with, on the one side,
an amount quoted at first above and beyond all expectations, and, on
the other, a sum low enough to provide a margin for increase. In the
end, we agreed, and Millwood said that, so help his goodness, I was a
hard nut to crack if ever there was one, and I said of him that he was
as artful as a waggon load of monkeys.
"I'd nearly forgotten something else I wanted to speak of," I said.
"This Arsenal work. Do they want more hands there?"
"They're nearly full up, but there's still a chance. If it's any
working man of your acquaintance, get him to hurry along."
"And I suppose if he has some skill in engineering, it makes a bit of
difference."
"Makes all the difference," said Millwood. "The difference between
being a mechanic like myself, and something a good deal better paid. I
know a fitter there who's earning close upon four quid a week. The work
is indispensable to the Government, and the Government doesn't mind
paying for it. But it's no child's play, mind you!"
Millwood, in regard to the shop, suggested a letter should be written
agreeing that he could retake possession when the war was over, or
earlier.
From that moment I was as fully occupied as one desired to be; perhaps
a trifle more. There came first the business of getting Mr. Hillier
free of his cold, and here I missed the assistance, by day, of Miss
Katherine; meanwhile I threw out hints concerning the Arsenal, and
he showed interest in the description of some of the tasks performed
there. He confessed that in leaving Chislehurst the greatest wrench
had been the loss of the workshop. "The one place," said Mr. Hillier,
"where I could forget everything else. It was drink, and golf, and
smoke to me. If Mrs. Hillier nagged, or the girls bothered, or matters
went wrong in the City, I had only to go down beyond the garage, and
put on a yellow over-all, and, for the time being, I was someone else.
Those experiences can never come again, Weston."
I provided some additional information regarding the Arsenal, spoke of
the convenient train journey. You left Greenwich, and passed Maze Hill,
Westcombe Park, Charlton, Woolwich Dockyard, and there you were at the
Arsenal station. Fifteen minutes in the train.
I knew Mr. Hillier well enough, and I understood his temperament
sufficiently to be aware that the idea would seem much more attractive
if he had the impression that it was his own, and that it had not been
forced upon him by anyone else. Later, he put some questions about
Trades Unions, and I promised to make inquiries.
"There is no hurry," he remarked. "I asked only out of curiosity."
* * * * *
Master Edward arriving home from school, made an announcement that
astonished me, and furnished a new task. I ought to have remembered
that a boy leaves the County Council schools when he reaches the age
of fourteen, but I had so much to think of that the fact escaped my
notice; Mrs. Hillier, on hearing this excuse, said it seemed to her my
intelligence was decaying. Miss Muriel had been invited to pay a visit
to friends at Chislehurst, and I was relieved from the task of looking
after her: Mr. Hillier was making a good recovery, and I hoped my
scheme in regard to him might be successful; the shop in London Street
was in the hands of a firm of decorators who had promised to be out of
it within seven days, from the start, and had already been pottering
about there for three weeks. And here came Master Edward thrown back
from school upon my hands; it appeared to be understood at Gloucester
Place that it was for me to arrange the launching of him into business
life.
"What would you like to be?" I asked, sharply.
"Really don't know, Weston," he answered.
"But haven't you any bent, or inclination, or----"
"I fancy the pater's notion was that I should go in for the law."
"You'll have to do something useful," I declared. "Something that will
bring in a few shillings a week, without delay."
"Most chaps have a holiday when they leave school."
"Not in these war times. Just now, the country wants everybody to work.
Don't let me hear any nonsense talk of that nature."
"Wish I were old enough to do as John did, and join the army."
"My dear lamb," giving up my manner of severity, "you ought to be
thankful that you're young enough to be out of all this terrible
business. Haven't you seen the poor wounded soldiers limping about in
the Park, and on Blackheath?"
"They look happy," said the boy.
I sent a postcard to William Richards, and he hurried down from Charing
Cross so soon as he was off duty. We met at the station, and I first
took him along to the shop, where the elderly workmen were startled by
the fact that I had brought a companion; William Richards supported my
arguments with some determined words that they seemed to understand
better than the milder language which I used. He said they were a
dashed lot of adjective mikers. He declared his intention of calling
on their adjective governor, and dashed well taking the adjective job
away, and giving it to some other adjective firm. He assured them they
had every reason to be dashed well ashamed of themselves. William
Richards wore a bowler hat to indicate that he was free of railway
service, but underneath an overcoat was his brass buttoned uniform, and
I think the decorator's men were impressed by the sight of this. The
foreman urged they were doing all that mortals could be expected to do;
contended that a job, to be carried out well, should be carried out
with nothing like undue haste. William Richards waved these arguments
aside, and used some more of his resolute denunciations.
"Look here, sir," said the old foreman. "We don't wish for no
unpleasantness. All we want is to live and let live. In regard to this
job, we'll get a move on, and I promise you we shall be clear and away
by Friday evening."
"Friday noon," directed William Richards, "and not a minute later."
"Friday noon it shall be," agreed the other, "and it's been a pleasure
to meet a gentleman who can express himself so clear as what you have
done. Mind that pail as you go out, and see that your lady friend don't
take off any of the wet paint on her skirts!"
We walked around the old-fashioned market off Nelson Street, where the
names--Underwood, Austin, Gladwin, Goulding, and others reminded one of
country days--and considered the case of Master Edward. William said
that so many railway men had left to enlist, and so many more wished
to go, that it was an easy matter for a lad to obtain employment. All
the same, William shook his head in a doubtful way, and happening to
discover as he talked the phrase of _infra dig_, used it liberally. He
remembered the family as it existed at Chislehurst, and declared it
would be _infra dig_ for any member of it, however youthful, to join
the railway service. He could scarcely imagine that a gentleman who had
once been a first class season ticket holder would become so _infra
dig_ as to allow his son to go in for railway work. The railways were
not intended for _infra dig_ people. In his opinion _infra digs_ ought
to offer themselves to loftier occupations.
"Go back at once to headquarters at London Bridge," I ordered. "Get
a form of application, and send it to me by this evening's post. And
thank you very much, William Richards, for being kind enough to help."
"I'd do more than this for you, Mary Weston," he said. "And well you
know it."
Master Edward was sensible over the business, and rather pleased to
be engaged on something like a conspiracy. We said no word about it
to any of the others, and on a day when Mr. Hillier had gone out with
the remark that he did not expect to return until late, I obtained
permission to take the boy to London on the pretence of seeing the
recruiting on Horse Guards Parade, and listening to any bands that
might be playing. The application form had been endorsed by the head
master at the schools, and by Millwood. At the head offices, Master
Edward was told that he could start work on probation the following
morning in a booking office at a suburban station: wages ten shillings
a week.
"Bright looking lad, that son of yours," remarked a senior clerk, as I
was waiting.
"He's not my son."
"A nephew, perhaps."
"Not a nephew."
"I see," he remarked. "You're just a friend of the family."
It occurred to me there were some grounds for hoping that this was not
altogether an inaccurate description.
The announcement was made to Mrs. Hillier that evening and,
fortunately, Miss Katherine arrived home from the bank in good time,
and ready and willing to support the action taken. Mrs. Hillier
complained that she was being treated as though she were a mere
nonentity in the household, declared that it was high time Weston
learnt her right place, and was made to keep in it, and to refrain from
assuming responsibilities that, correctly speaking, belonged to others:
Master Edward had described his own satisfaction with the arrangement,
and Miss Katherine was inviting her mother to recognise the facts of
the case, when Mr. Hillier came up the staircase, taking two steps at a
time, and whistling as he entered the room.
"I've obtained a berth at the Arsenal," he announced, cheerfully, "and
I feel as happy as a sand boy. Give me your congratulations, my dear."
"No," said his wife, distantly. "No, I cannot do that. That, James, is
impossible. But I willingly extend to you my most earnest sympathy."
The last post brought a letter from Chislehurst which induced her to
regard events with a slightly diminished amount of gloom. It gave the
news that Miss Muriel was engaged. "I hope the man has money," said
Mrs. Hillier. "I think we can trust Muriel for that. And, at any rate,
it saves her from the peril of going on the stage!"