CHAPTER XVIII

I assumed at the moment that it was annoyance with the contrariness

of events which made me feel out of sorts. It happened that no one

at Gloucester Place advised me to see a doctor, and if this counsel

had been given I should have rejected it at once; on my own account I

discovered my earliest customer, who occupied the first half-hour by

shewing me the contents of the house added since his original purchase

through me. This over, he gave attention to my case.

"You have come nearly to the end of your resources," he said.

"Nonsense!" I ejaculated.

"Another month or two of the work you have been engaged upon, and you

would have proved outside and beyond any treatment from me."

"Ridiculous!"

"Your mind, for a considerable period, has had nothing resembling a

holiday or rest. You have gone from one task to another, without an

interval. You are not sleeping well, are you?"

"I can do with less than most people."

"In future, you will have to take more sleep than most people get. I

don't want to give you anything to make you sleep, but--"

"Shouldn't take it, if you did!"

"I understand you to say that you are now clear of the shop in London

Street."

"By pure dodgery and sharp practise, I've been turned out of it. It's a

scandal that the law--"

"Now, now!" he interrupted. "Don't let us become excited unless there

is good need for it. Has your brother-in-law paid you a fair sum?"

"I'm not grumbling about that. As a matter of fact, he gave me what I

asked, without any haggling."

He nodded approvingly. "If it had all been arranged by wise friends,"

he said, "it could scarcely have happened better."

"And do you too think, sir, that my people have been scheming and

planning--"

"You mustn't get so flushed and emotional, Miss Weston," he ordered. "I

know nothing whatever about your people, or what they are doing. Just

you take matters quietly, and be thankful you can afford to do so. I'll

send some medicine along this evening. Call again, if you find you are

no better."

I challenged Millwood later with being one of the members of a

conspiracy, and he smiled and said nothing. The suspicion would not

have galled me so much, I suppose, but for the circumstance that I

had always reckoned myself a stage manager directing other people,

and the positions were now reversed. I decided to say nothing of it

at Gloucester Place, where it seemed likely the chief movers in the

plot might be found, and this was the easier because Katherine's baby

occupied my attention; we went into the park together, and rested near

the trees, and I picked flowers that delighted the small person and

were treasured to be presented later to mamma. Also, at home, old Mrs.

Winterton was glad of my help and my advice.

"The Captain talks of nothing now but the war, my dear," she explained,

"and I can't help wishing he had done so earlier, like most folk,

instead of bottling it up. But I am hoping we shall get peace almost

directly, and then he'll be comforted, and he will begin to mend, you

see."

"Do you really imagine the war is nearly at an end?"

"It can't last for ever," she argued.

"But I see no signs of a finish. The Germans occupied Easter bank

holiday in trying to bombard Lowestoft; the Turks are holding us

out where Lieutenant Langford is; there's trouble in Dublin, and the

Zeppelins seem to come over when they like."

"Yes, yes," said the old lady, "I know, I know. But I've always been

able to get anything I earnestly prayed for."

"Perhaps you haven't made such a large request before."

The Captain had aged greatly during the last month; without the help

of his elaborate collar and tie, and his frogged overcoat, he appeared

to have become limp, and if a cushion in his easy chair moved, he

slipped with it. His courteous manner towards his wife in no way

changed; he was grateful for any aid I could give, but it was clear

that he favoured her company, her assistance. The content they found in

each other's society made me think of my Quartermaster-Sergeant, and

I began to write often to Seaford, on the excuse that I now had time

to spare. Cartwright replied with a new spirit, declaring my letters

were as welcome as flowers in May, and admitting that some chaps were

more greatly favoured in the way of correspondence than himself; he

always looked out for the _Punch_ I sent weekly, but preferred the

briefest note to the most amusing journal. For myself, I can confess

that, at this time--when I had to be careful of my health, and to watch

my temper, and to keep cool, and not allow small incidents to disturb

me--I had reason to be grateful for his notes. If one arrived by the

first post, there was competition between Muriel, Katherine, and Edward

for the privilege of bringing it to me. Sometimes, Mr. Hillier was the

messenger.

"Better than all the doctor's bottles, Aunt Weston," he said.

Mr. Hillier was in exceptionally good spirits. It seemed there was a

prospect that he might be leaving the Arsenal, where the work, I am

sure, had become monotonous; the rest of us had often expressed the

hope that he would, some day, be induced to give it up. But this was

not resignation, but a chance of transfer, and I could not help a

slight feeling of jealousy on discovering that the credit was due to

Colonel Edgington, once a fidget of the highest standard, but now, by

reason of circumstances, a person of some authority and influence. The

appointment had to do with a munition factory to be opened shortly; a

well qualified person was required at the head. I confessed I itched

to be taking part in the affair: it appeared to me that the plan could

scarcely reach success without my help. This view was hinted to the

Colonel.

"Don't you dare!" he cried, threateningly. "Let me catch you

interfering in any way whatsoever, and upon my soul, woman, I'll have

you shot. Or put away in an asylum. Or gagged. This is my fishing, and

I won't allow you, Weston, or any one else to poach. Understand that!"

I happened to find some recompense in a kind of flying interview with

an auctioneer from Chislehurst. Him I encountered near to the park

gates that lead to Blackheath; he was entering and in jerking to me

a scrap of news concerning The Croft, he sprinted along the avenue

towards the river. I turned the perambulator, and to the astonishment

of Katherine's baby and of nurses, raced along after the hurried

auctioneer, putting eager questions, and obtaining fragmentary replies

thrown over the shoulder. At the Observatory I was forced to give up

the chase. When the baby had been induced to start on his morning's

sleep, I sat down and enjoyed a dream that, like most dreams, seemed

too good to come true. Finding a pencil and a sheet of note-paper, I

made some calculations. My friend, the police-sergeant, went by, in

ordinary clothes, and accompanied by his little girl.

"Give him my love as well," he shouted, chaffingly.

My existence, since I had been turned out of the shop, seemed to be

wanting in ingenious plans. The one now before me was so magnificent

that my pencil shook as it wrote the figures.

At Gloucester Place, of an evening, we all pretended an indifference to

the prospects of Colonel Edgington's idea; sometimes we went so far as

to deride it, and I, in particular, referred to incidents of the past

which he had handled clumsily, pointed out that as a man grew old, so

confidence in himself increased, and his mental abilities diminished. I

think I suggested that the war would have been successfully terminated,

long ere now, if Headquarters had been served by younger and more

intelligent people. Secretly, we were hopeful that Mr. Hillier would

obtain the berth. I found his silk hats, that had long been enjoying a

rest cure, and polished them with a handkerchief.

* * * * *

Because I had given a small donation to the fund--it was difficult in

those days for even a thrifty woman to say "No" to the applications

that came--a ticket reached me inviting my presence to the dedication,

by a Lord Bishop, of war ambulances, one to be given to the British

Red Cross Society, one to the French Red Cross. The circumstance

that a speech of thanks was to be made by Colonel Edgington would

have discouraged me, but the affair was to take place on a Saturday

afternoon, a period when Katherine, home from the bank, expected to be

allowed to take exclusive charge of her son; I had to stand back and

to look forward to resuming control of the little person on the Monday

morning. Muriel advised me to go, and to bring back an account of the

proceedings: she declared that my imitation of Colonel Edgington was

always amongst my triumphs.

Some one directed me wrongly, and I happened to be late in arriving

at the school playground where the ceremony was to take place, but

my old lad Peter, there in a position of authority with Boy Scouts,

caught sight of me and, leaving everything, conducted me to the raised

platform as the Russian National Anthem was being sung by the children.

Folk, noting the deferential manner adopted by Peter, assumed I was a

guest of importance; a steward discovered a vacant chair in the second

row and would take no notice of my signals indicating a preference for

a more retired place. I found myself immediately behind the Mayor who,

anxious I suppose, to shew that he identified everyone in his borough,

turned and shook hands warmly, introduced me by an unintelligible name

to the Bishop, who declared he had often heard of me, and was charmed

now to make my acquaintance. I listened to the youngsters giving the

last verse.

"_God the all-wise! By the fire of their chastening,

Earth shall to freedom and truth be restored.

Through the thick darkness Thy kingdom is hastening,

Thou wilt give peace in Thy time, O Lord!_"

As somebody offered a prayer, I thought of these words, looked back in

my mind, and realised--almost for the first time--how gentle the war

had been to me, in comparison with the treatment it had served out to

other people.

The Mayor followed with a statement, and the Bishop rose. Colonel

Edgington, seated near, turned, and in turning glanced at me; the old

chap was too much absorbed in the importance of the affair and his own

share to recognise me, and from this moment, throughout the dedication

and the address, he occupied himself with his notes. I admit I was

touched by the fervour and patriotism of the Bishop's words. Maybe I

had not been fortunate in some of the clergymen encountered during my

life: here was one out of the ordinary. I joined in "Oh God our help in

ages past," feeling more earnest and impressed than I had ever done in

church.

"You're not going," protested the Mayor.

"I have an engagement," I answered readily. It struck me as I spoke

that it did not take one long to escape from religious influence, and

to slip back to ordinary habits.

"But there's tea to come," he argued. "And I'm just going to call on

the next speaker."

It was impossible to move ere Colonel Edgington rose, and I resigned

myself to the ordeal of hearing the voice of my opponent. The Mayor

whispered around that the speech was to last but five minutes, and this

was accepted as an encouraging piece of news.

"--Pleasure and honour to accept," said the Colonel, with more than

his usual pomposity of manner, and barking the words so that some

were extraordinarily audible, and others indistinct. "Doing fine and

glorious humanitarian work--succour the wounded--taken a great part

myself in this work--industry not restricted to this--may mention

that near neighbour of yours, and dear friend of mine, name Hillier,

been this day appointed to---- working for the last year and more,

whole heartedly--now gained his reward--happiness shortly in informing

him----"

Colonel Edgington read with care from his notes a quotation, and the

Mayor said in an undertone, "Time, Colonel, time!" Everybody stood up,

and I surprised and pained some of the guests by moving to the back of

the stand as they sang,

"--_And ever give us cause,

To say with heart and voice,

God save the King!_"

I arrived at Gloucester Place, breathless and panting; my hat at not

quite the correct angle, and my features crowded with excitement. The

girls came out to the landing and received me apprehensively.

"You're bringing bad news, Aunt Weston."

"I'm bringing," I declared, "the best news you could possibly imagine!"

The baby was instructed in the art of clapping hands, and Edward, on

arriving, threw off his air of maturity until he was reminded that

old Captain Winterton, below, might be disturbed. We went to the

balcony, and watched for Mr. Hillier. He generally came by the Royal

Hill entrance, but now and again he walked through the Park and across

Croom's Hill.

"We'll draw lots," I suggested, "and see who is to be the one to tell

him."

"But," said Muriel, "didn't you say that Colonel Edgington was coming

on to do that?"

"He ought to have the privilege," agreed her sister and brother.

"Have your own way," I said, reluctantly. "It isn't my custom to allow

myself to be hampered by tact, but perhaps you're right."

So when Mr. Hillier came, we had to suppress our enthusiasm, and I

think we were all a trifle hysterical, excepting the baby. For once in

my life, I answered Colonel Edgington's knock with genuine satisfaction.

"Weston," he announced, "I am the bearer of important tidings."

"Concerning me?"

"Concerning your master, foolish woman." I gave an ejaculation of

surprise. "Ah!" he said acutely, "I thought the day would come when I

should be able to startle you!"

The Amazing Years · 第 18 / 19 章