How did Eve Madeley contrive to lead this life of leisure and
amusement? The question occupied Hilliard well on into the small hours;
he could hit upon no explanation which had the least plausibility.
Was she engaged to be married to the man who met her at the Exhibition?
Her behaviour in his company by no means supported such a surmise; yet
there must be something more than ordinary acquaintance between the two.
Might not Patty Ringrose be able and willing to solve for him the
riddle of Eve's existence? But he had no idea where Patty lived. He
recalled her words in Gower Street: "You _are_ going it, Eve!" and they
stirred miserable doubts; yet something more than mere hope inclined
him to believe that the girl's life was innocent. Her look, her talk
reassured him; so did her friendship with such a person as the
ingenuous Patty. On learning that he dwelt close by her she gave no
sign of an uneasy conscience.
In any case, the contrast between her actual life and that suggested by
Mrs. Brewer's talk about her was singular enough. It supplied him with
a problem of which the interest would not easily be exhausted. But he
must pursue the study with due regard to honour and delicacy; he would
act the spy no more. As Eve had said, they were pretty sure to meet
before long; if his patience failed it was always possible for him to
write a letter.
Four days went by and he saw nothing of her. On the fifth, as he was
walking homeward in the afternoon, he came face to face with Miss
Madeley in Gower Street. She stopped at once, and offered a friendly
hand.
"Will you let me walk a little way with you?" he asked.
"Certainly. I'm just going to change a book at Mudie's." She carried a
little handbag. "I suppose you have been going about London a great
deal? Don't the streets look beautiful at this time of the year?"
"Beautiful? I'm not sure that I see much beauty."
"Oh, don't you? I delight in London. I had dreamt of it all my life
before I came here. I always said to myself I should some day live in
London."
Her voice to-day had a vibrant quality which seemed to result from some
agreeable emotion. Hilliard remarked a gleam in her eyes and a colour
in her cheeks which gave her an appearance of better health than a few
days ago.
"You never go into the country?" he said, feeling unable to join in her
praise of London, though it was intelligible enough to him.
"I go now and then as far as Hampstead Heath," Eve answered with a
smile. "If it's fine I shall be there next Sunday with Patty Ringrose."
Hilliard grasped the opportunity. Would she permit him to meet her and
Miss Ringrose at Hampstead? Without shadow of constraint or
affectation, Eve replied that such a meeting would give her pleasure:
she mentioned place and time at which they might conveniently encounter.
He walked with her all the way to the library, and attended her back to
Gower Place. The result of this conversation was merely to intensify
the conflict of feelings which Eve had excited in him. Her friendliness
gave him no genuine satisfaction; her animated mood, in spite of the
charm to which he submitted, disturbed him with mistrust. Nothing she
said sounded quite sincere, yet it was more difficult than ever to
imagine that she played a part quite alien to her disposition.
No word had fallen from her which threw light upon her present
circumstances, and he feared to ask any direct question. It had
surprised him to learn that she subscribed to Mudie's. The book she
brought away with her was a newly published novel, and in the few words
they exchanged on the subject while standing at the library counter she
seemed to him to exhibit a surprising acquaintance with the literature
of the day. Of his own shortcomings in this respect he was but too
sensible, and he began to feel himself an intellectual inferior, where
every probability had prepared him for the reverse.
The next morning he went to Mudie's on his own account, and came away
with volumes chosen from those which lay on the counter. He was tired
of wandering about the town, and might as well pass his time in reading.
When Sunday came, he sought the appointed spot at Hampstead, and there,
after an hour's waiting, met the two friends. Eve was no longer in her
vivacious mood; brilliant sunshine, and the breeze upon the heath, had
no power to inspirit her; spoke in monosyllables, and behaved with
unaccountable reserve. Hilliard had no choice but to converse with
Patty, who was as gay and entertaining as ever. In the course of their
gossip he learnt that Miss Ringrose was employed at a music-shop, kept
by her uncle, where she sold the latest songs and dances, and "tried
over" on a piano any unfamiliar piece which a customer might think of
purchasing. It was not easy to understand how these two girls came to
be so intimate, for they seemed to have very little in common. Compared
with Eve Madeley, Patty was an insignificant little person; but of her
moral uprightness Hilliard felt only the more assured the longer he
talked with her, and this still had a favourable effect upon his
estimate of Eve.
Again there passed a few days without event. But about nine o'clock on
Wednesday evening, as he sat at home over a book, his landlady entered
the room with a surprising announcement.
"There's a young lady wishes to see you, Sir. Miss Ringrose is the
name."
Hilliard sprang up.
"Please ask her to come in."
The woman eyed him in a manner he was too excited to understand.
"She would like to speak to you at the door, Sir, if you wouldn't mind
going out."
He hastened thither. The front door stood open, and a light from the
passage shone on Patty's face. In the girl's look he saw at once that
something was wrong.
"Oh, Mr. Hilliard--I didn't know your number--I've been to a lot of
houses asking for you----"
"What is it?" he inquired, going out on to the doorstep.
"I called to see Eve, and--I don't know what it meant, but she's gone
away. The landlady says she left this morning with her luggage--went
away for good. And it's so strange that she hasn't let me know
anything. I can't understand it. I wanted to ask if you know----"
Hilliard stared at the house opposite.
"I? I know nothing whatever about it. Come in and tell me----"
"If you wouldn't mind coming out----"
"Yes, yes. One moment; I'll get my hat."
He rejoined the girl, and they turned in the direction of Euston
Square, where people were few.
"I couldn't help coming to see you, Mr. Hilliard," said Patty, whose
manner indicated the gravest concern. "It has put me in such a fright.
I haven't seen her since Sunday. I came to-night, as soon as I could
get away from the shop, because I didn't feel easy in my mind about
her."
"Why did you feel anxious? What has been going on?"
He search her face. Patty turned away, kept silence for a moment, al at
length, with one of her wonted outbursts of confidence, said nervously:
"It's something I can't explain. But as you were a friend of hers----"
A man came by, and Patty broke off.