HE MEETS THE HEROINE
"Polly, come and have a look round, and give me your advice, will you?
My fellow says he's got all the luggage up, and he wants to know where
to put some of the new things."
Mr. Anthony Churchill would have felt himself insulted if you had called
his "fellow" a valet. Australian gentlemen don't keep valets. The person
in question had certainly filled that office in England, where his
master had picked him up, but was now merely a sort of private male
housemaid of superior quality, who waited on his employer in the East
Melbourne chambers, and made him more comfortable than anybody else
could have done. When he was away travelling, Maude took on his servant
as an extra footman, in order to guard him against the seductions of
other wealthy bachelors who were known to covet him; but when Tony was
at home, Jarvis was his indispensable attendant. Mary Oxenham used to
say that Jarvis was the main cause of that celibacy which she could not
but deplore in a man of thirty-five, who could so well afford a wife and
family.
"Yes, dear," she said, in response to his proposal; "I shall be
delighted." She rose from the Toorak luncheon-table to dress for the
expedition.
"Oh, Tony, you are _not_ going away?" cried Mrs. Churchill,
prettily aghast. "When I have hardly had a word with you! And when you
know it is my day at home, and I can't come with you! Mary, it's very
nasty and selfish of you, to carry him off and keep him all to
yourself--especially when he has been in town the whole morning."
"I'll come back to dinner," he said soothingly. "And we'll have a game
of billiards together in the evening, if you like."
"But I want you _now_, Tony! All the world is coming this afternoon,
just on purpose to see you, and I did so want to show you off."
"The very reason, madam, why I go. I don't like being shown off."
"But you know what I mean, Tony--you can do exactly what you like--go
away and smoke, or anything. And there are several new girls--pretty
girls--whom you haven't seen before."
"Pretty girls have ceased to interest me very much. I've seen such a lot
of them."
"You are a nasty, horrid, disagreeable boy! I suppose _I_ have ceased to
interest you--that's what you'd like to say if you weren't too polite."
"I'd cut my tongue out before I'd say such a thing."
He smiled down upon her, strong, calm, amused, indifferent, as if she
were a kitten frisking. He was always interested in her, if only because
he had to be always on his guard to keep her from making a fool of
herself. She looked up at him, with a pout and a laugh, and proceeded to
make hay while the sun shone--to make the most of the little time that
Mary gave her for the enjoyment of his company.
Brother and sister departed as soon as the latter was ready, preferring
the homely tram to the carriage that Mrs. Churchill desired to order for
them; and spent a quiet hour together in Tony's chambers, where Jarvis
had left nothing to find fault with. There were pictures for Mrs.
Oxenham to see, and a multitude of pretty things that Tony had brought
out to adorn his rooms, or as presents for his friends; and these were
very interesting to a lady of modern culture, as she was, secretly proud
of and confident in her discriminating artistic sense. And she much
enjoyed an uninterrupted gossip with her brother, he and she having been
close comrades for many years before Maude was heard of. They had a
great deal to say that they didn't care to say when she was present.
Jarvis offered tea, but it was declined. "No, thank you," said Mary.
"There's a little place where I make a point of having tea whenever I am
in town--kept by some people whom I am interested in. And it isn't good
for me to drink too much. I think, Tony, I'll be going, as I have a
commission to do for Maude."
"I'll go with you," said Tony, "if you'll just let me finish my pipe.
It's the sweetest pipe I have had for a long time. After all"--with a
luxurious sigh--"there's no place like home."
"Don't call _this_ a home," his sister retorted.
He cast a complacent eye around the handsome room, which had witnessed
so many masculine symposiums. "I might go further and fare worse," he
said, with a comfortable laugh. "Do you remember the man in _Punch_ who
didn't marry because he was so domesticated? I think I am like him. I
love a quiet life. I like my armchair and my fireside of an evening." He
puffed meditatively, while Mary drew on her gloves. "What's your errand
for Maude?" he asked abruptly.
"She wants me to tell Mrs. Earl something."
"I could have sworn it. Now, if I had a wife who thought of nothing but
her clothes----"
"Who _wants_ you to have a wife who thinks of nothing but her clothes?
Do you suppose they are all Maudes? Come along, and don't aggravate me."
He heaved himself out of his deep chair, retired to take off his
smoking-jacket, and escorted her to the tram and to Collins Street.
"If you are going to be long," he said, at Mrs. Earl's door, "I'll look
into the club for a few minutes."
"I'm not going to be a second, but don't wait for me," she answered, "Go
to your club, old fogey, but be home in good time for dinner."
However, when she had done her errand, which was only to deliver an
urgent message concerning the trimming of a Cup gown--to which Mrs. Earl
was not likely to pay the least attention, knowing her business better
than any lady could teach her--there was Tony on the pavement, still in
devoted attendance.
"Where do you want to go now, Polly?" he asked, as if clubs were nothing
to him.
"Oh, nowhere--except just to get my tea. Don't wait, dear boy."
"Where do you go for your tea?"
"To a room in Little Collins Street."
"What an extraordinary place to have one's tea in!" He signalled for a
hansom. "I'll go with you."
"Oh, no; don't you bother. It's not a place for men."
"I'll take you to the door, at any rate."
He took her to the door, and the outside of the basket-maker's premises
made him curious to see the inside, and he begged to be allowed to
escort her upstairs. "If only to see that you are not robbed and
murdered," he said.
"No fear of that," she returned, laughing. "You go and amuse yourself at
the club. This is a ladies' place."
"Men prohibited?"
"Not prohibited, but they don't want them."
"All right. I'll leave the cab for you."
He went to his club, and she to her tea and scones (the room was
satisfactorily full, and Jenny too busy to be talked to); and they met
again at Toorak in time to entertain Maude for half an hour before she
had to dress.
Next day Maude was determined to have her stepson for
herself--especially as there was a dark rumour that he was going to
desert her the day after for the superior attractions of Jarvis and his
bachelor abode; and Anthony was quite willing to gratify her.
Recognising that she would be _de trop_, Mary Oxenham chose to stay at
home and amuse the children; and he and his pretty stepmother (seven
years his junior) drove away after luncheon for the ostensible purpose
of paying calls together.
They paid two calls, and then, being in East Melbourne, Maude proposed
that they should go and have some tea.
"What!" exclaimed Tony. "Haven't you had enough tea for one afternoon?"
"It was horribly bad tea," said she, "and I know a place where you can
get it exceptionally good. I am just dying for a cup."
"Where is your place?"
"In Little Collins Street. The funniest place you ever saw."
"Why, that must be the place Mary wouldn't take me to yesterday. She
said men were not admitted."
"Oh, what a story!"
"Well, she said the people there didn't want them."
"Stuff! Of course they do. Didn't you hear Mrs. Bullivant say she was
there yesterday with Captain what's-his-name, that charming new A.D.C.?
No, you were flirting with Miss Baxter--oh, I saw you!--and had no eyes
or ears for anybody else."
"Then I presume I may accompany you, and have some tea too?"
"Of course you may. You'll be charmed--everybody is. There are dear
little chairs, in which you can actually rest yourself, and tables so
high"--spreading her hand on a level with her knee. "And it's awfully
retired and peaceful, if you want to talk. I only hope"--regardless of
her previous efforts to compass that end--"that it won't get too well
known. That would spoil it."
Anthony stalked through the basket-maker's shop (that customers passed
that way, in view of his wares, was a consideration that largely
affected the rent, to Mrs. Liddon's advantage), and knocked his head and
his elbows on the dark staircase, and thought it was indeed the funniest
place of its kind that he had ever seen. But when he reached the
tea-room, and looked round with his cultured eyes upon its singular
appointments, he was quite as charmed as Maude had expected him to be,
and more surprised than charmed.
"How very extraordinary!" he ejaculated. "What an oasis in the howling
desert of Little Collins Street!"
"Yes, isn't it?" returned Maude, jerking her head from side to side. "I
knew you would like it. But, oh, do look how full it is! How tiresome of
people to come flocking here, as if there were no other place in the
whole town! There's hardly a table left. Oh, here's one! I'll get that
girl to put it in the corner yonder. She knows me."
"It will do here," said Anthony, with a little peremptory air that she
was quite accustomed to. "Sit down."
He dropped himself into a basket-chair, and it creaked ominously.
"What a very extraordinary place!" he repeated, as his stepmother drew
off her gloves in preparation for prolonged repose and conversation.
Then, as Jenny advanced, blushing a little--for she knew this was the
junior partner, and he stared at her intently--"What a very----" He left
that sentence unfinished.
"Tea and scones for two, if you please. Yes, she's quite a new type,
isn't she?--like her tea-room. She's the daughter of old Liddon, who
used to be in the office, and who was killed by being run over on the
railway the other day. Mary says she's quite well educated."
"What!" cried Anthony. He sat bolt upright in his chair. "Old Liddon
dead! Good heavens! And his daughter keeping a restaurant! Why, I
thought they rather prided themselves on being gentlefolks. The old man
used to tell me he was an Eton boy--quite true, too."
"He married his cook," said Mrs. Churchill--which was a libel, for poor
old Mrs. Liddon's family was as "genteel" as her own--"and I suppose the
girl takes after her. Mrs. Liddon's cooking talents are now exercised on
the tea and scones that they sell here, and they do her credit, as you
will see. I'm sure I wish to goodness I could find a good cook!"
"If that is Miss Liddon," said Anthony, who was watching the screen for
her reappearance, "I think I ought to speak to her."
"Oh, no, you oughtn't, Tony. It would never do. Mary doesn't want men to
talk to her. Mary is taking a great interest in her, you must know, and
she'd like to keep men out of the room altogether--only she doesn't want
to hinder custom--just for Miss Liddon's sake, for fear she should be
taken liberties with, or annoyed in any way, as if she were a common
waitress."
This was a very injudicious speech, but then Maude was nearly always
injudicious.
"I don't annoy women," said her stepson severely; "and I am not 'men.' I
am a partner of the firm that has lost her father's services--if we have
lost them."
"Oh, yes; he was killed on the spot--all smashed to little bits."
"I would merely say a word--of sympathy, you know."
"Don't do it, Tony; it would be most improper. If you attempt to scrape
acquaintance with her I'll never bring you here again. Mary would blame
me, and make a dreadful fuss."
"Mary is so much in the habit of making a fuss, isn't she?"
"I assure you she would. You see she wouldn't let you come yesterday.
You can make your condolences to the brother in the office."
So Anthony did not say anything to Miss Liddon, except "Thank you," in a
very gentle tone. As she approached with the tea and scones, he rose and
stood--her little head was not much above his elbow--and he took the
tray from her hands. The unwonted courtesy brought a flush to Jenny's
pale cheeks--they were pale with the weariness of being on her feet all
day--and Mrs. Churchill had her first suspicion that the young person
was pretty. She determined that she would not bring Tony to the tea-room
again.
Nevertheless, being there, and very comfortable, she would have sat on
with him indefinitely, had he allowed it; but he would not allow it. Her
meal finished, she was taking the place and time of paying clients, as
several others were doing, causing Jenny to wonder if she had not made a
mistake in providing cushioned chairs. He proposed to call at the office
for his father, and drive the old gentleman home--an attention from his
charming wife that always gratified him; and Maude did not see her way
to object. They returned to Toorak quite early, and Tony lit a pipe and
went off with his sister for a saunter in the shrubberies (to get the
history of the Liddons up to date), while his stepmother was hastily
getting into a yellow satin tea-gown with a view to an ante-dinner
_tete-a-tete_ on her own account.