My mother used to say that everything in this world went by threes, and
it surprised me but little to receive a prepaid telegram from William
Richards; in his anxiety to economise he succeeded in being obscure,
but I gained that he wished to marry me. (Subsequently I discovered
he had the chance of an inspectorship at a suburban station, and
entertained a fear that he might experience loneliness.) To Cartwright
I sent a friendly note asking him to renew the suggestion when we were
better acquainted with each other. At the back of my head, there was
an apprehension that the success of the business in London Street had
something to do with all this striking unanimity.
"Seeing that I've waited so long," I remarked to myself, "I may as well
wait a bit longer, and make sure I'm acting wisely."
I wrote to William, giving a fuller explanation than a telegram
permitted, and asked for detailed information regarding his encounter
with Miss Muriel. He may have been huffed at my reply; in any case, he
did not send the particulars.
The shop just then engaged me so much that not until Miss Katherine
called my attention to the fact did I notice a change in her mother's
appearance. July happened to be a warm month; there was a Sunday
in it when the heat proved trying, and Mrs. Hillier, going out to
the Park with old Captain Winterton and his wife, returned with the
confession that she felt inclined for rest. I arranged a holiday for
her without delay. The bank was, very generously, giving Miss Katherine
a fortnight, although she had not completed a year of work, and Master
Edward found himself able to get away; able too, by virtue of his
position, to obtain passes. Mr. Hillier said it would be useless for
him to make any application for leave at the Arsenal. So I packed
the three off to a town on the Suffolk coast, and it occurred to us,
as they were leaving, that nearly twelve months had elapsed since a
holiday trip was stopped; we agreed that the time--closely packed as it
had been with incident--seemed more like ten years than one.
"You ought to be coming with us," they said.
"Expect me at the first week end. I'm single-handed, you must remember."
"One hand of yours, Weston dear," remarked Miss Katherine, "is worth
four belonging to anybody else." She took me aside. "What made you
select this particular sea coast town for us, you wonderful person?"
"Seeing that letters arrive for you every other day with that post
mark----"
"Weston," she said, "I do believe you are growing young. I detect a
strain of romance that you have not hitherto exhibited. It shows how
much influence is possessed by a Quartermaster-Sergeant in the Guards."
I closed the shop early on the Saturday. The Wintertons promised to
look after Mr. Hillier at Gloucester Place. My train on the Great
Eastern was crowded, although excursion fares had long since been
cancelled, and a guard put me in a first-class compartment where the
passenger immediately opposite was Colonel Edgington, formerly of
Chislehurst, and for some time absent from my memory. Apparently I
too was but vaguely in his recollection, for he grasped me warmly
by the hand, assured me he was delighted to see me again, offered
congratulations on my appearance of good health. I was about to speak
of the Hilliers, when he started the topic of himself and his own work,
and the subject occupied the whole of the journey. It appeared he was
engaged at the War Office, that he had not a single moment to call his
own, that he was working as he had never worked before, that he was
now on the way to a point in the Eastern Counties which he could not
mention (but I guessed it by the ticket that was visible in the palm
of his glove) there to engage upon a task that he was not at liberty
to disclose (he told me all about it ere we reached Chelmsford). The
others in the compartment looked at me with respect as we chatted.
"And tell me, dear lady," he said, towards the end of the journey. "I'd
like to know something about yourself. Busily engaged, I'll wager, at
this period of stress and turmoil. Eh, what! Funds, and societies, and
associations, and so forth. I've seen your name in the papers, over and
over again."
"How was it spelt?"
"In the way you always spell it," he answered, promptly.
"But how do you spell my name?"
"To tell you the truth," he confessed, "I've a most remarkable gift for
identifying faces, but I can't always find the right label. Give me a
clue, in your own case."
"Chislehurst," I answered. "The Hillier family. A fire, and your
kindness when it happened."
He occupied the rest of the time by blessing his soul, and reprimanding
his memory, and explaining that his thoughts were occupied with
important affairs. He was incredulous regarding my news concerning his
old friend--
"Not working in the Arsenal? Good Lord! Whatever will happen next in
these times?"
--He assured me that, in making a large number of new acquaintances,
he found no one so companionable as Mr. Hillier, nobody with whom he
could argue on a perfectly amicable note. Sending my mind back to the
disputes that used to take place, I could not help estimating the
degree of warmth that existed in present-day debates between Colonel
Edgington and his friends. He asked for the address of the private
hotel where Mrs. Hillier and the two young people were staying, and
promised to call on the Sunday.
"I find life perplexing, Weston," he admitted confidentially,
before leaving at Saxmundham. "Everything seems to be undergoing an
alteration. As for instance; in talking to you I've somehow felt as
though I was conversing with one almost my own equal in intelligence."
It was a great temptation to retort that I had never shared this, in
talking to him. But there were people in the world more deserving of
being snapped at than Colonel Edgington.
Aldeburgh gave reminders of the war that I had not hitherto
encountered. At Greenwich, one saw troops marching about, but there
was no suggestion that any possibility of invasion existed. Here, Miss
Katherine and Master Edward pointed out to me excitedly the barbed wire
protections on the beach, the trenches with the usual names--Paradise
Terrace, Fairy Glen, A Home from Home--mine sweepers were coming
in, and we watched the ships taking up position, and the crews
disembarking. Up and down the coast, sea traffic appeared to be going
on as usual; Master Edward gave us a lecture on the useful work done
by the British navy. In the absence of his father, the lad was taking
charge of the women-folk, planning the day for them, and surprising me
by his grown-up manner: it seemed that but a week or ten days since
he was a school-boy with no greater anxiety in his mind than that his
county should win cricket matches. At the private hotel where Mrs.
Hillier welcomed me, Edward talked gravely of war affairs, and recited
scraps of information he had picked up during the afternoon, gave views
about the Russian retreat, saw that the thick blinds were carefully
drawn so soon as the lights had been turned on. In this last regard,
there was nothing casual in the military control. When a match was
struck near an unprotected window, a soldier's voice from below shouted
imperiously.
"Put that light out there!"
And later, came the challenging that was new to me; the circumstance
of it being given with a strong London accent made me think of it,
at first, as a joke. "'Alt, who gaows there? Advaunce friend, and
give the cahntersign. Paws friend; all's well!" Master Edward gave
me a brief abstract of the rules to be observed in the case of
attack from the sea; the general impression I secured was that you
would do well to make the way inland by the main roads, and that as
these would be required for military purposes, no civilians could be
allowed to use them. That night, the Germans did make an invasion on
the Suffolk coast, and I found myself, insufficiently clad for the
journey, and with shoes that came off at every other step, carrying
Mrs. Hillier, and Miss Katherine, and Master Edward; the progress,
not unnaturally, was slow, and I felt so gratified at encountering
Quartermaster-Sergeant Cartwright that I awoke suddenly in my room.
(Other people's dreams are rarely interesting, but I have never failed
to take great account of my own, and I sometimes wish that, during all
the long years of suspense and perturbation, I had set down details of
them for my own reading. It is not easy now to calculate the number
of times between ten o'clock p.m. and six o'clock a.m. that I led a
British regiment to victory, and made, with my own hands, a prisoner
of the Emperor William.) In the morning I had a definite reminder
of the war in being called upon to fill in a Registration Form for
New Residents and Visitors, with present address in the area, date
of arrival in the area. A refined lady boarder complained that the
Government seemed to be treating us all as though we were kitchen maids.
It was strange to be in a house where the early hours brought no
domestic tasks for me, and to find myself able to dress leisurely, and
completely for the early meal. Master Edward ejaculated "My Aunt!" as
I entered the coffee room, and Miss Katherine--observing that other
residents nodded privately to each other as though the remark confirmed
their estimate of relationship--at once adopted the idea.
"We shall be proud, madam," she declared, across the table, "to include
such a considerable swell as yourself amongst the family. You will
do us credit. Your presence raises us in the general estimation. You
are, dear Aunt Weston, as my poor brother here endeavoured to convey,
nothing more nor less than a fashion plate. You are the last word from
Hanover Square. I am not using the language of exaggeration, but merely
the speech of candid compliment, when I describe you as absolutely It."
"You are learning how to dress yourself," said Mrs. Hillier.
"Miss Katherine gave me the first lessons."
"Aunts," said the girl, decisively, "do not, in the best society, call
their nieces by the title of Miss. Aunt Weston, I'll trouble you to
hike over the toast."
It took me some time to become used to the new regulation, but the
young people insisted it was to be observed. The proprietress spoke to
me in the hall, and, in regretting the brevity of my visit, suggested
that the holiday had already done my sister and her children a vast
amount of good; the remark showed how quickly inaccurate news is
able to circulate. The proprietress wanted information in regard to
my niece's marriage prospects, but on this point I could give no
particulars, and she said it was only fair to tell me that a young
lieutenant named Langford had been offering attentions to Miss Hillier,
that she and several other ladies at the hotel feared Miss Hillier's
mother knew nothing about it; a sense of duty, together with a feeling
of responsibility made it difficult for them to keep silent. There
were, in the general opinion of the hotel, too many hasty marriages
nowadays, and attractive girls, from some idea of patriotism, or a
notion of acute sentiment--
"It certainly isn't love," declared the proprietress, earnestly. "At
any rate, not love as I've always been brought up to understand it."
The girls, she declared, found themselves whirled off to the altar, or
dashing away to a registrar's office, before they had taken time to
give the subject due, solemn and appropriate consideration. I assured
the lady that, in calling my notice to the incident, she had done
everything that could be expected from any right-minded woman. She
seemed greatly comforted, and went off, I am sure, to report to the
authorities.
Lieutenant Langford was so tremendously and perhaps extravagantly
astonished at meeting us near the Moat House, which Katherine had urged
me to inspect, that he was at the start almost deprived of speech. The
other strange detail was that he happened to have leave for the day,
that he had invited a group of friends to join him in a yachting trip
up the river, and every one of them had sent an excuse. Young Langford
begged us to realise the situation in which he was placed, and to
suggest a way out. The yacht was waiting with an efficient sailorman
in charge; baskets of provisions aboard, and just enough wind for a
pleasant trip.
"Deuced awkward, you must admit," he argued.
"Why not take these two young people?" I asked. Langford struck himself
on the chest for not having thought of this. "I'll stay here with their
mother, and you bring them back in time for tea."
"It's a brain wave," declared Katherine. "Aunt Weston, how bright you
are! I'll run back to the hotel, and change my hat for a veil."
I had persuaded Mrs. Hillier the trip was a safe one to be undertaken,
and we were waiting for Katherine's return, when Colonel Edgington came
along. One could tell from the glint in his eyes that he was about to
exercise authority.
"Well-known poet man," he announced, speaking the manner of drum taps.
"Lived not many miles from here. We'll make up a party." Langford
was presented; the Colonel eyed him sternly, until the young fellow
blushed. "Ever heard of Mark Higham?"
Langford seemed puzzled.
"A Persian writer," I said, interposing. And gave the correct
pronunciation of the name. "Fitzgerald translated his verses."
"Any good?" demanded the Colonel.
"Generally considered to be readable."
"Very well then. We'll go and see his grave. Appropriate occupation
for a Sunday. Nothing sacrilegious about it." He turned sharply to
Langford. "You'll come with us."
"Delighted, sir," said the young officer, endeavouring to appear
gratified.
"And you, Weston."
"I am going on the river," I answered, "with Miss Katherine, and Master
Edward. We particularly want Lieutenant Langford to look after the
yacht."
"Mrs. Hillier," he said, frowning, "I ask you to give me your support.
Nothing annoys me more than to see plans upset."
"The original plans were ours," I said, "and it is you who are trying
to upset them."
He tried the effect of a glare upon me. The others stood around,
watching anxiously.
"I've often crossed swords with you, Weston," he said, relaxing,
"and I can't remember a single occasion when I came off anything but
second best. Have your own way. Consider me at your disposal." He
took Langford aside, and mentioned confidentially to him and to Miss
Katherine, who had now come up, that in dealing with an exceptional
woman, it was necessary to act in an exceptional manner. The young
people, agreeing cordially, ventured to hint that he had shown tact and
diplomacy of a high order.
Mrs. Hillier and the Colonel went off in an open carriage, and we
walked along the sea front to something like a quay, where we descended
wooden steps, receiving assistance from a sailor who was waiting with
a dinghy. "You're a tidyish bit late," he grumbled. I record this
speech because they were the only articulate words we heard from him
in the course of the trip. On the yacht that was lying out, he made
vocal sounds in lifting the anchor, but these, I fancy, were intended
to represent melody; when Langford or Edward made an attempt later to
help with the ropes, he grunted ejaculations, and the tone in which
these were uttered gave the impression that they conveyed blame rather
than praise. For the rest, a capable man, gifted in the management of
sails, and acquainted with all the tricks of the wind; as a consequence
we out-distanced other craft going in the same direction, and arrived
at a village before the hour for lunch. By nods of the head, he ordered
us to get into the dinghy that had followed the yacht with an air of
being dragged against its will, and to pull to the shore; a fore-finger
uplifted indicated that we were to return at one o'clock.
Miss Katherine and her sweetheart had been slightly awed by his
presence, and with myself and Edward seated opposite, they engaged on
no more reckless adventure than the exchange of affectionate glances.
Once on land, they gave to folk coming out of church the sight of a
young officer of His Majesty's Army running hand in hand with a girl,
equally fleet in movement; the two raced towards the old Castle, and
went up the slope with as much ease as though the ground were flat.
Edward showed a discretion beyond his years by remaining at my side,
and adopting the gait of maturity. Looking at the couple as they
waved to us from afar I could not help thinking that youth was the
only time for love, and that when it came at middle age, whether with
Quartermaster-Sergeants, or railway men, or public speakers, it brought
an element of sobriety that constituted a drawback. Another point of
view was given by my companion.
"They make themselves rather ridiculous," complained Edward. "I've no
objection to high spirits but the line ought to be drawn. People are
watching them, you know, and making comments."
"And the beauty of it all is, they don't care in the least."
"Girls are so foolish," declared the wise lad. "There seems to be no
limit to their idiocy. Why in the world a sensible fellow like Langford
should permit himself to take a share in such absurdities, I can't
imagine."
A motor car stood in the roadway, occupied by two extremely tall ladies
who had apparently decided to allow the rest of their party to make
the ascent to the Castle. One said, before we were out of hearing,
"Bright, smart-looking lad!" and Edward held his head erect, and said
no more on the subject of the eccentricities of folk who are in love.
He was impressed, too, by finding just inside the door of the ruins, a
portly gentleman who said, "Ah, my boy, enjoying your holidays? That's
right, that's right, that's right!" Edward whispered to me that this
was a very high official in railway life; so exalted, indeed, that
to be spoken to by him in this familiar way might be reckoned as a
special compliment, and one that would not easily go from the memory.
We went up narrow stone staircases of the Castle to upper floors, and
discovered Langford and Katherine with their heads close together;
Edward's excitement over the recent encounter prevented him from
offering criticism. From an opening in the walls he begged us to share
the joy of watching the important man, seated on the grass below--
"You'd never guess he was anyone particular, would you?"
Filling a pipe and seemingly in no hurry to rejoin the very tall ladies
who were beckoning to him from the car, Langford said casually, "Oh,
I know him!" and turned again to Katherine. Compared with her, even a
great personage seemed of no account. The pipe was not finished when we
descended and came out again into the open; Edward gave an ejaculation
of warning as Langford strolled across to the smoker.
"Hullo, uncle," he said. "What on earth are you doing in this
neighbourhood?"
The other raised himself with Langford's assistance, and shook hands.
Langford made the introductions. Sir Charles Barrett.
"This youngster I know," said Sir Charles, breezily. "We meet, don't
we, my boy, in different surroundings." Edward was so much affected by
the generosity of the remark that he could not answer. "Your aunt"--to
Langford--"is along there with her sister in the car. Go and keep them
good tempered until I have emptied my pipe. One can't enjoy tobacco
when one's driving."
"Care to have food with us out on the river?"
"Settle it with your aunt, my lad. Let her arrange. Leave the decision
to her. As a matter of fact, we were on our way to discover you."
There seemed at first a possibility that the new additions to the
group would mar enjoyment of the day. Lunch on the yacht was to be a
crowded business, and ladies of uncertain temper are rarely at their
best in these surroundings. But Lady Barrett was delighted to see her
nephew, and beamed graciously upon Miss Katherine and upon me: her
sister repeated the comment on Edward's appearance, and chatted to him,
inviting his views in regard to cricket in the past, and in the future.
The capable sailorman had everything prepared on board, and Langford
and Katherine went into the cabin to serve the meal; the rest of us sat
outside with Sir Charles and Edward on the cabin roof, all ready to
catch food as it was thrown, and to pull corks, mix salads, cut bread,
pass the salt.
It was some time ere the lad managed to get over his astonishment at
seeing a respected and distinguished colleague behaving as an ordinary
person: I think Edward would not have succeeded in emerging from
silence during the lunch but for the occasional words of encouragement
sent up from Lady Barrett's sister. The sailor took his own well-filled
plate and retired to the cubby-hole; the yacht was well away from
both shores, and there was nothing to prevent us from taking up the
attitude of comfort. The meal over, and plates washed in the river,
and tidiness restored, Sir Charles, with no sort of warning, stood up
and in a baritone voice slightly out of practice, aided by a memory
that could not be described as perfect, gave a song appropriate to the
times, about "A soldier who never knows fear, But battles for those
he holds dear, And fa la la lah, and fa la la lah, Oh, as he goes
by, how we cheer." Young Langford and Katherine sang a duet from one
of the musical comedies with words which hinted at a light-hearted,
almost derisive view regarding the element of constancy in love, and
on this Lady Barrett's sister shook her head, and gave signs of tears,
and Lady Barrett patted her hand sympathetically, saying, "I know who
you are thinking of, dearest, but believe me he is not worthy of it!"
and the sister, recovering, smiled bravely, thus providing Edward
with an excuse for giving up a scowling determination to murder some
person of the male sex, name unknown. Lady Barrett's sister, after
much persuasion, agreed to recite. She mentioned, however, that it
was necessary for an exhibition of her art that she should face her
audience, and we had to gather together and sit closely, whilst she
took up a position at the cabin door and gave a long scene in dramatic
form, to which we were compelled to give earnest attention for a space
of eighteen minutes by the wrist watch; all the gentlemen in the
tragedy spoke huskily as though suffering from colds or drink, and all
the ladies possessed gentle, almost childish voices; it might have
filled the half hour but that the sailorman appeared and jerked a
thumb in the direction of home. The visitors prepared to leave.
"Perfectly beautiful," declared Edward, rapturously. "Never heard
anything like it. Superb! May I ask the name of the author?" Lady
Barrett's sister pointed in a modest, and also an exhausted, way at
herself, and the lad gazed dreamily as one recognising that powers of
compliment were, in the circumstances, of no avail. Lady Barrett's
sister remarked to me that elocutionary efforts constituted an enormous
strain upon the mind and the body; in her own case it often meant
compulsory rest in a darkened room for the whole of the following day.
Lady Barrett, when her six-foot relative had, with the assistance
of the whole strength of the company, stepped from the yacht to the
dinghy, told us, in confidence, that London managers had often and
often gone on their knees to the lady, begging and imploring her to
play in Macbeth, but terms had never been arranged, because one of the
parties insisted that it was impossible for her to perform Scene One,
Act Five, on account of the language set down, and the managers--slaves
to convention--were unable to meet her views by deleting the sanguinary
incident. Langford took his people off to find their car in the garage,
and we exchanged signals of farewell when they reached the small quay.
I imagine the four of us left on the yacht were perfectly content. The
sailor had the prospect of returning home, and later, of an hour or
two at the Turk's Head; Katherine, meeting her sweetheart's relatives,
had been favourably received by them; Edward had fallen in love with
someone about three times his own age; I had been treated with no sign
of patronage.
It was indeed the sort of day which, coming in those strenuous and
exacting times, helped one to cheer up, and to live on, and to preserve
hope. Without being in any way indifferent to the war, folk discovered
it useful now and again to become detached from it, and to escape
grim fears, and needless multiplication. (So far as multiplication was
concerned, dwellers in town were the great sufferers. Occasionally when
I had to run up to London from Greenwich, and the news of some disaster
at sea happened to be announced on the countless placards, then, in
finishing the journey, the vague notion in my mind was not that we had
lost one cruiser, but that the entire British navy had gone down.)
On the voyage back, Katherine and her young Lieutenant held hands,
and forgot, for a space, the troubles of our banking system, and the
complications of military strategy. The climax to a happy period came
when Mrs. Hillier met us on the sea front near to the lifeboat shed.
"Aunt Weston must be told something at once," she declared, when the
young people began to give an account of their experiences. "Something
Colonel Edgington ascertained this afternoon. Her nephew has obtained a
commission in a regiment stationed not far from here. He is coming home
to do work at musketry practice."
"Ladies and gentlemen," said Katherine, "I ask you to give three cheers
for Lieutenant Millwood."
It is possible the Aldeburgh people thought we were slightly off our
heads. If so, the Aldeburgh people were correct.
* * * * *
I travelled to town that evening in a crowded compartment of the class
named on my ticket, and whilst my fellow passengers slept, I kept awake
and enjoyed my dreams. Young Langford, in seeing me off at the station,
had explained to me that although his aunt and her husband had regarded
himself and Katherine with approval, he felt by no means certain that
this view would be shared by his father; to avoid a row and to escape
anything like a dispute with a parent whom he had always obeyed, he
proposed, in the case of being ordered out, to come up to London and
take Katherine to a registrar's office. Langford hoped he might count
upon me, both for help and for discretion.
"You know she is only a clerk in a bank?" I suggested. "Not sure
whether you have been told. We don't want misunderstandings."
"The dear girl has told me everything," he declared, earnestly. "And
it will be a most tremendous comfort to me when I'm out there, to know
that her days are occupied, and that she has a rare, good friend in
you!"
My open-eyed dreams regarded my nephew Herbert. The war had, so far as
he was concerned, shuffled the cards afresh, and by the hour the train
reached Liverpool Street, I had settled comfortably in my mind how the
new hand was to be played.
"Miss Muriel shan't have him!" I promised myself.