Hilliard waited for her to continue, but Patty kept her eyes down and
said no more.
"Did you think," he asked, "that I was likely to be in Miss Madeley's
confidence?"
"You've known her a long time, haven't you?"
This proof of reticence, or perhaps of deliberate misleading, on Eve's
part astonished Hilliard. He replied evasively that he had very little
acquaintance with Miss Madeley's affairs, and added:
"May she not simply have changed her lodgings?"
"Why should she go so suddenly, and without letting me know?"
"What had the landlady to say?"
"She heard her tell the cab to drive to Mudie's--the library, you know."
"Why," said Hilliard; "that meant, perhaps, that she wanted to return a
book before leaving London. Is there any chance that she has gone
home--to Dudley? Perhaps her father is ill, and she was sent for."
Patty admitted this possibility, but with every sign of doubt.
"The landlady said she had a letter this morning."
"Did she? Then it may have been from Dudley. But you know her so much
better than I do. Of course, you mustn't tell me anything you don't
feel it right to speak of; still, did it occur to you that I could be
of any use?"
"No, I didn't think; I only came because I was so upset when I found
her gone. I knew you lived in Gower Place somewhere, and I thought you
might have seen her since Sunday."
"I have not. But surely you will hear from her very soon. You may even
get a letter tonight, or to-morrow morning."
Patty gave a little spring of hopefulness.
"Yes; a letter might come by the last post to-night. I'll go home at
once."
"And I will come with you," said Hilliard. "Then you can tell me
whether you have any news."
They turned and walked towards the foot of Hampstead Road, whence they
could go by tram-car to Patty's abode in High Street, Camden Town.
Supported by the hope of finding a letter when she arrived, Miss
Ringrose grew more like herself.
"You must have wondered what _ever_ I meant by calling to see you, Mr.
Hilliard. I went to five or six houses before I hit on the right one. I
do wish now that I'd waited a little, but I'm always doing things in
that way and being sorry for them directly after. Eve is my best
friend, you know, and that makes me so anxious about her."
"How long have you known her?"
"Oh, ever so long--about a year."
The temptation to make another inquiry was too strong for Hilliard.
"Where has she been employed of late?"
Patty looked up at him with surprise.
"Oh, don't you know? She isn't doing anything now. The people where she
was went bankrupt, and she's been out of a place for more than a month."
"Can't find another engagement?"
"She hasn't tried yet. She's taking a holiday. It isn't very nice work,
adding up money all day. I'm sure it would drive me out of my senses
very soon. I think she might find something better than that."
Miss Ringrose continued to talk of her friend all the way to Camden
Town, but the information he gathered did not serve to advance Hilliard
in his understanding of Eve's character. That she was keeping back
something of grave import the girl had already confessed, and in her
chatter she frequently checked herself on the verge of an indiscretion.
Hilliard took for granted that the mystery had to do with the man he
had seen at Earl's Court. If Eve actually disappeared, he would not
scruple to extract from Patty all that she knew; but he must see first
whether Eve would communicate with her friend.
In High Street Patty entered a small shop which was on the point of
being closed for the night.
Hilliard waited for her a few yards away; on her return he saw at once
that she was disappointed.
"There's nothing!"
"It may come in the morning. I should like to know whether you hear or
not."
"Would this be out of your way?" asked Patty. "I'm generally alone in
the shop from half-past one to half-past two. There's very seldom any
business going on then."
"Then I will come to-morrow at that time."
"Do, please? If I haven't heard anything I shall be that nervous."
They talked to no purpose for a few minutes, and bade each other
good-night.
Next day, at the hour Patty had appointed, Hilliard was again in High
Street. As he approached the shop he heard from within the jingle of a
piano. A survey through the closed glass door showed him Miss Ringrose
playing for her own amusement. He entered, and Patty jumped up with a
smile of welcome.
"It's all right! I had a letter this morning. She _has_ gone to Dudley."
"Ah! I am glad to hear it. Any reason given?"
"Nothing particular," answered the girl, striking a note on the piano
with her forefinger. "She thought she might as well go home for a week
or two before taking another place. She has heard of something in
Holborn."
"So your alarm was groundless."
"Oh--I didn't really feel alarmed, Mr. Hilliard. You mustn't think
that. I often do silly things."
Patty's look and tone were far from reassuring. Evidently she had been
relieved from her suspense, but no less plainly did she seek to avoid
an explanation of it. Hilliard began to glance about the shop.
"My uncle," resumed Patty, turning with her wonted sprightliness to
another subject, "always goes out for an hour or two in the middle of
the day to play billiards. I can tell by his face when he comes back
whether he's lost or won; he does so take it to heart, silly man! Do
_you_ play billiards?"
The other shook his head.
"I thought not. You have a serious look."
Hilliard did not relish this compliment. He imagined he had cast away
his gloom; he desired to look like the men who take life with easy
courage. As he gazed through the glass door into the street, a figure
suddenly blocked his prospect, and a face looked in. Then the door
opened, and there entered a young man of clerkly appearance, who
glanced from Miss Ringrose to her companion with an air of severity.
Patty had reddened a little.
"What are _you_ doing here at this time of day?" she asked familiarly.
"Oh--business--had to look up a man over here. Thought I'd speak a word
as I passed."
Hilliard drew aside.
"Who has opened this new shop opposite?" added the young man, beckoning
from the doorway.
A more transparent pretext for drawing Patty away could not have been
conceived; but she readily lent herself to it, and followed. The door
closed behind them. In a few minutes Patty returned alone, with rosy
cheeks and mutinous lips.
"I'm very sorry to have been in the way," said Hilliard, smiling.
"Oh, not you. It's all right. Someone I know. He can be sensible enough
when he likes, but sometimes he's such a silly there's no putting up
with him. Have you heard the new waltz--the Ballroom Queen?"
She sat down and rattled over this exhilarating masterpiece.
"Thank you," said Hilliard. "You play very cleverly."
"Oh, so can anybody--that's nothing."
"Does Miss Madeley play at all?"
"No. She's always saying she wishes she could but I tell her, what does
it matter? She knows no end of things that I don't, and I'd a good deal
rather have that."
"She reads a good deal, I suppose?"
"Oh, I should think she does, just! And she can speak French."
"Indeed? How did she learn?"
"At the place where she was bookkeeper there was a young lady from
Paris, and they shared lodgings, and Eve learnt it from her. Then her
friend went to Paris again, and Eve wanted very much to go with her,
but she didn't see how to manage it. Eve," she added, with a laugh, "is
always wanting to do something that's impossible."
A week later, Hilliard again called at the music-shop, and talked for
half an hour with Miss Ringrose, who had no fresh news from Eve. His
visits were repeated at intervals of a few days, and at length, towards
the end of June, he learnt that Miss Madeley was about to return to
London; she had obtained a new engagement, at the establishment in
Holborn of which Patty had spoken.
"And will she come back to her old lodgings?" he inquired.
Patty shook her head.
"She'll stay with me. I wanted her to come here before, but she didn't
care about it. Now she's altered her mind, and I'm very glad."
Hilliard hesitated in putting the next question.
"Do you still feel anxious about her?"
The girl met his eyes for an instant.
"No. It's all right now."
"There's one thing I should like you to tell me--if you can."
"About Miss Madeley?"
"I don't think there can be any harm in your saying yes or no. Is she
engaged to be married?"
Patty replied with a certain eagerness.
"No! Indeed she isn't. And she never has been."
"Thank you." Hilliard gave a sigh of relief. "I'm very glad to know
that."
"Of course you are," Patty answered, with a laugh.
As usual, after one of her frank remarks, she turned away and struck
chords on the piano. Hilliard meditated the while, until his companion
spoke again.
"You'll see her before long, I dare say?"
"Perhaps. I don't know."
"At all events, you'll _want_ to see her."
"Most likely."
"Will you promise me something?"
"If it's in my power to keep the promise."
"It's only--I should be so glad if you wouldn't mention anything about
my coming to see you that night in Gower Place."
"I won't speak of it."
"Quite sure?"
"You may depend upon me. Would you rather she didn't know that I have
seen you at all?"
"Oh, there's no harm in that. I should be sure to let it out. I shall
say we met by chance somewhere."
"Very well. I feel tempted to ask a promise iii return."
Patty stood with her hands behind her, eyes wide and lips slightly
apart.
"It is this," he continued, lowering his voice. "If ever you should
begin to feel anxious again about her will you let me know?"
Her reply was delayed; it came at length in the form of an embarrassed
nod. Thereupon Hilliard pressed her hand and departed.
He knew the day on which Eve would arrive in London; from morning to
night a feverish unrest drove him about the streets. On the morrow he
was scarcely more at ease, and for several days he lived totally
without occupation, save in his harassing thoughts. He paced and
repaced the length of Holborn, wondering where it was that Eve had
found employment; but from Camden Town he held aloof.
One morning there arrived for him a postcard on which was scribbled:
"We are going to the Savoy on Saturday night. Gallery." No signature,
no address; but of course the writer must be Patty Ringrose. Mentally,
he thanked her with much fervour. And on the stated evening, nearly an
hour before the opening of the doors, he climbed the stone steps
leading to the gallery entrance of the Savoy Theatre. At the summit two
or three persons were already waiting--strangers to him. He leaned
against the wall, and read an evening paper. At every sound of
approaching feet his eyes watched with covert eagerness. Presently he
heard a laugh, echoing from below, and recognised Patty's voice; then
Miss Ringrose appeared round the winding in the staircase, and was
followed by Eve Madeley. Patty glanced up, and smiled consciously as
she discovered the face she had expected to see; but Eve remained for
some minutes unaware of her acquaintance's proximity. Scrutinising her
appearance, as he could at his ease, Hilliard thought she looked far
from well: she had a tired, dispirited expression, and paid no heed to
the people about her. Her dress was much plainer than that she wore a
month ago.
He saw Patty whispering to her companion, and, as a result, Eve's eyes
turned in his direction. He met her look, and had no difficulty in
making his way down two or three steps, to join her. The reception she
gave him was one of civil indifference. Hilliard made no remark on what
seemed the chance of their encounter, nor did he speak of her absence
from London; they talked, as far as talk was possible under the
circumstances, of theatrical and kindred subjects. He could not
perceive that the girl was either glad or sorry to have met him again;
but by degrees her mood brightened a little, and she exclaimed with
pleasure when the opening of the door caused an upward movement.
"You have been away," he said, when they were in their places, he at
one side of Eve, Patty on the other.
"Yes. At Dudley."
"Did you see Mrs. Brewer?"
"Several times. She hasn't got another lodger yet, and wishes you would
go back again. A most excellent character she gave you."
This sounded satirical.
"I deserved the best she could say of me," Hilliard answered.
Eve glanced at him, smiled doubtfully, and turned to talk with Patty
Ringrose. Through the evening there was no further mention of Dudley.
Eve could with difficulty be induced to converse at all, and when the
entertainment was over she pointedly took leave of him within the
theatre. But while shaking hands with Patty, he saw something in that
young lady's face which caused him to nod and smile.