"I should have thought you'd have taken a day off," I said.
"Can't afford that just now," he replied, in rather a surly way.
"All well at home?"
"No."
"By my watch," I said, "that office clock's five minutes slow. What do
you make it?"
"Don't know. Left my watch at home."
I had noticed that he was not wearing his watch. Later in the day I had
some more conversation with him. He is quite my subordinate at the
office, and I really don't know why I should have taken so much notice
of him.
* * * * *
When I came back that night I was in two minds whether to tell Eliza or
not. She hates anything like extravagance, and if I told her I felt
sure she would be displeased. At the same time, if I did not tell her,
and she found it out afterward, she would be still more displeased.
However, I decided to say nothing about it. I was a little nervous on
the point, and I own that my conscience reproached me.
As I came into the hall, Eliza came down the staircase. She was dressed
for going out, and had a basket in her hand. She said: "I want you to
let me go over to the Pagrams to see if I can do anything. She and the
baby are both very ill,--the nurse has had no sleep,--they've no one
else to help them. And--and I'm going!"
"Now, do you think this is necessary, Eliza?" I began. "When you come
to consider the position we've taken up with regard to the Pagrams for
two years, and the scandalous way in which they----"
Here I stopped. The hall door was shut, and Eliza had gone, and it was
not worth while to continue.
"Now," I thought to myself, "it's ten to one that Eliza finds me out,
and if she does, she'll probably make herself unpleasant." However, I
determined not to trouble myself about it. If it came to that, I
flattered myself that I could make myself as unpleasant as most people
when any occasion arose.
* * * * *
It was hours before Eliza returned. She burst into the room and said,
"They're both better, and the baby's a beauty, and I'm to go back
to-morrow afternoon."
"Indeed!" I said. "I don't know that you're not going a little too far
with these people."
"Do you think so? I've found you out. You didn't tell me, but Pagram
did. You lent him three pounds this morning. We can't afford that."
"Well, well," I said; "I've managed to get some overtime work, to begin
next week. That--that'll come out all right. You ought to leave these
business matters to me. Anyhow, it's no good finding fault, and----"
"Does Pagram generally return what's lent?"
I lost my temper and said that I didn't care a damn! And then--just
then--I saw that she was not really displeased about it.
"Why," she said, "you silly! I'm glad you did it. The poor things were
at their wits' end, and had got--they'd got nothing! You've saved them,
and I never have liked anything you've done half as much as this."
Here Eliza burst into tears--which is really very unusual with her.