"And everything upside down!" proceeded Uncle Silas.
"No!" said Herbert. "We've put all your things in my old room."
"Have ye! Ye're too obliging, lad!" growled Silas. "And if it isn't
asking too much, where's that china pig as used to be on the
chimney-piece in th' kitchen there? Her's smashed it, eh?"
"No," said Herbert, mildly. "She's put it away in a cupboard. She didn't
like it."
"Ah! I was but wondering if ye'd foreclosed on th' pig too."
"Possibly a few things are changed," said Herbert. "But you know when a
woman takes into her head--"
"Ay, lad! Ay, lad! I know! It was th' same wi' my beard. It had for go.
Thou'st under the domination of a woman, and I can sympathize wi' thee."
Herbert gave a long, high whistle.
"So that's it?" he exclaimed. And he suddenly felt as if his uncle was
no longer an uncle but a brother.
"Yes," said Silas. "That's it. I'll tell thee. Pour some more hot water
in here. Dost remember when th' Carl Rosa Opera Company was at Theatre
Royal last year? I met her then. Her was one o' Venus's maidens i' th'
fust act o' _Tannhäuser_, and her was a bridesmaid i' _Lohengrin_, and
Siebel i' _Faust_, and a cigarette girl i' summat else. But it was in
_Tannhäuser_ as I fust saw her on the stage, and her struck me like
that." Silas clapped one damp hand violently on the other. "Miss Elsa
Venda was her stage name, but her was a widow, Mrs Parfitt, and had bin
for ten years. Seemingly her husband was of good family. Finest woman I
ever seed, nephew. And you'll say so. Her'd ha' bin a prima donna only
for jealousy. Fust time I spoke to her I thought I should ha' fallen
down. Steady with that water. Dost want for skin me alive? Yes, I
thought I should ha' fallen down. They call'n it love. You can call it
what ye'n a mind for call it. I nearly fell down."
"How did you meet her, uncle?" Herbert interposed, aware that his uncle
had not been accustomed to move in theatrical circles.
"How did I meet her? I met her by setting about to meet her. I had for
t' meet her. I got Harry Burisford, th' manager o' th' theatre thou
knowst, for t' introduce us. Then I give a supper, nephew--I give a
supper at Turk's Head, but private like."
"Was that the time when you were supposed to be at the Ratepayers'
Association every night?" Herbert asked blandly.
"It was, nephew," said Si, with equal blandness.
"Then no doubt those two visits to Manchester, afterwards--"
"Exactly," said Si. "Th' company went to Manchester and stopped there a
fortnight. I told her fair and square what I meant and what I was worth.
There was no beating about the bush wi' me. All her friends told her
she'd be a fool if she wouldn't have me. She said her'd write me yes or
no. Her didn't. Her telegraphed me from Sunderland for go and see her at
once. It was that morning as I left. I thought to be back in a couple o'
days and to tell thee as all was settled. But women! Women! Her had me
dangling after her from town to town for a week. I was determined to get
her, and get her I did, though it cost me my beard, and the best part o'
that four hundred. I married her i' Halifax, lad, and it were the best
day's work I ever did. You never seed such a woman. Big and plump--and
sing! By----! I never cared for singing afore. And her knows the world,
let me tell ye."
"You might have sent us word," said Herbert.
Silas grew reflective. "Ah!" he said. "I might--and I mightn't. I didn't
want Hanbridge chattering. I was trapesing wi' her from town to town
till her engagement was up--pretty near six months. Then us settled i'
rooms at Scarborough, and there was other things to think of. I couldn't
leave her. Her wouldna' let me. To-day was the fust free day I've had,
and so I run down to fix matters. And nice weather I've chosen! Her
aunt's spending the night wi' her."
"Then she's left the stage."
"Of course she's left th' stage. What 'ud be th' sense o' her painting
her face and screeching her chest out night after night for a crowd o'
blockheads, when I can keep her like a lady. Dost think her's a fool?
Her's the only woman wi' any sense as ever I met in all my life."
"And you want to come here and live?"
"No, us dunna! At least her dunna. Her says her hates th' Five Towns.
Her says Hanbridge is dirty and too religious for her. Says its nowt but
chapels and public-houses and pot-banks. So her ladyship wunna' come
here. No, nephew, thou shalt buy this house for six hundred, and be d--d
to thy foreclosure! And th' furniture for a hundred. It's a dead
bargain. Us'll settle at Scarborough, Liz and me. Now this water's
getting chilly. I'll nip up to thy room and find some other clothes."
"You can't go up just now," said Herbert.
"But I mun go at once, nephew. Th' water's chilly, and I've had enough
on it."
"The fact is we're using my old bedroom for a sort of a nursery, and
Alice and Jane Sarah are just giving the baby its bath."
"Babby!" cried Silas. "Shake hands, nephew. Give us thy fist. I may as
well out wi' it. I've gotten one mysen. Pour some more hot water in
here, then."