"Guide me, Dumps; guide me, commonplace Dumps; then I shall be able to
think in peace."
I guided her then very steadily. We walked up Queen's Road. Queen's
Road is a long street.
"I thought," I said, "that you lived somewhere near Inverness Terrace,
close to the Twopenny Tube." Augusta pulled up short.
"What have you been doing?" she said.
"What have I been doing?" I answered.
"Why, you've led me more than half a mile away from home, and mother
will be very much annoyed."
"Well, you must wake up and get me there in some sort of fashion," I
said, "for I cannot possibly guide myself when I don't know where you
live."
Thus adjured, and by dint of constant pokes, and even pinches, I did
manage to take Augusta to her own home. There was a lift which would
take us to her mother's flat at the top of the great house; but she was
a quarter way up the stairs before I was able to remind her of the fact.
She then said it didn't matter, and began to quote from _The Ancient
Mariner_, saying the words aloud. People looked at her as they came
downstairs. One lady said, "How do you do, Miss Moore?" but Augusta did
not make any reply.
At last we arrived at the very top of the house, and as there were no
more stairs of any sort to go up, we had to pause here.
"Now, which door are we to knock at?" I said. Augusta pointed to one.
"We're awfully late," she said. "Mother will be terrible I shall go
into my own room until she subsides. You won't mind listening to her;
you will probably agree with her. You are fearfully commonplace
yourself. Two commonplaces together make--oh! I ought to be able to
say something very smart and witty on that subject, but I can't. I am
going to cultivate smart sayings. I believe it is possible to cultivate
them. The spirit of repartee can be produced with care. I have read
about it; it is possible. A person who can make good repartees is much
appreciated, don't you know?"
"Oh yes, yes; but do knock at the door, or let me." She approached the
door, but before she could raise her hand to ring the bell she turned to
me again.
"What is the subject of your father's next lecture?"
"I'm sure I don't know from Adam," I replied.
"What a vulgar way of expressing it! How terrible to think you are his
child!"
"Augusta," I said, "there is one thing that puzzles me. I am the
Professor's child, and doubtless I am commonplace; but I am glad of it,
for I wouldn't be like you for all the world."
"I don't want you to envy me," she said. "I never ask any one to envy
me. Those who are geniuses are above anything of that sort."
"But I should like to ask you a question."
"What is it? Has it something to do with the great departed, or--"
"It has not," I said. "It is, how do you ever manage to get to school
in the morning? Are you awake? Can you get along the streets? Are you
always in a dream as you are now?"
"Mary Roberts, who also comes to the school, but who is in a very
inferior class, calls for me. She has done that ever since I lost my
way in a distant part of Regent's Park and was very much scolded by my
teacher. I forgot the school; I forgot everything that day. I was
puzzling out a problem. Your father could reply to it."
I made no answer to this, except to pull the bell vigorously myself.
This brought Mrs Moore on to the scene. It was a great relief to see a
placid-looking, blue-eyed little lady, neatly and nicely dressed, who
said, "Augusta, late as usual! And this is your dear little friend.--
How do you do, Miss Grant? Come in, dear--come in."
"Mother," said Augusta, "while you are on the scold, you may as well
scold Miss Grant, or Dumps, as we call her. I am going to my room. I
have received two tickets for the next great meeting of the Royal
Society. I shall live in bliss with the thought of those tickets until
that night. You are to come with me."
"What night is your father's lecture?" asked Mrs Moore, glancing at me.
"Next Wednesday," I answered.
"We cannot possibly go on Wednesday; you know that, Augusta. It is your
uncle Charles's birthday, and we have both been invited to dine with
him; he would never forgive us if we did not go."
"Just as you please, mother, as far as you are concerned. I shall go,"
said Augusta; and she went into her bedroom and slammed the door behind
her.
Mrs Moore gave one patient sigh. "Would you like to take your jacket
off?" she said.
I hastily removed it. She began to pour boiling water into the teapot.
The little room was very neat and clean, and there was quite a cosy,
appetising tea spread on the board.
"I have heard a great deal about your father, my dear," said Mrs Moore
after a pause. "And now I also hear about you. I am glad to welcome
you here. You are Augusta's special friend, are you not?"
"Oh, I know her very well," I said.
"She told me to-day at dinner that you wished to be a chum of hers. She
said she was willing. I felt quite relieved, for I think it would be
very good for Augusta to have a sort of human influence; she needs human
influence so badly."
"But can't she get it, Mrs Moore?" I asked. "Surely it is all round
her?"
"Well, dear, the fact is, she always stays amongst the dry bones; that's
what I call that terrible sort of learning which she so clings to. Not
a word when she comes out, my love. I assure you it is quite a comfort
to confide in you."
She motioned to me to draw my chair to the table. I sat down.
"You look quite an interesting person," said Mrs Moore.
"Oh no, I am not at all interesting," I replied.
"Here is a cup of tea, love." She handed me one.
"Ought I not," I said, "to wait for Augusta?"
"Dear me, no! on no account. She will probably not come in at all.
Doubtless by now she has forgotten that you are in the house."