NEARER AND NEARER.
Florence had lived without letters for some time, but now they seemed to
pour in. The next morning, as she was preparing her extremely frugal
breakfast, consisting of bread without butter and a little weak tea, she
heard the postman climbing all the way up to her attic floor. His double
knock sounded on her door, and a letter was dropped in. She took it up:
it was from her mother. She opened it languidly. Mrs. Aylmer wrote in
some distress:--
"MY DARLING CHILD--
"The queerest thing has happened. I cannot possibly account for
it. I have been robbed of five pounds. I was on the sands
yesterday talking to a very pleasant jolly fat little man, who
interested me by telling me that he knew London, and that he
considered I had done extremely wrong in allowing you to go
there without a chaperon. He described the dangers to which
young girls were subjected in such terrible and fearful
language that I very nearly screamed.
"I thanked him for his advice, and told him that I would write
to you immediately and ask you to come home. My darling, it
would be better for us both to starve at home than for you to
run the risks which he has hinted at.
"But to come to the real object of this letter. I am five
pounds short, my dear Florry--I had five pounds in my pocket,
two of which I had received unexpectedly, and three from my
very, very tiny income. Sukey and I were going to have quite a
little turn-out--a nice tea-party; but fortunately, most
fortunately, Providence prevented my ordering the buns and
cakes, or sending out the invitations, and when I came in my
money was gone. Of course it was not the little man, so do not
point your suspicions at him. Somebody robbed the widow. Oh,
what a judgment will yet fall upon that head!
"Dear Flo, I know you have something by you--how large a sum
you have never confided to your poor mother. Will you lend me
five pounds, darling, and send it at once? Quarter-day is
coming on, and I have several things to meet. Do not hesitate,
my love: it shall be returned to you when I get my next
allowance.
"I will write to you later on with regard to your coming back
to Dawlish. In the meantime think of your poor mother's
distress, and do your utmost for her."
Florence let the letter drop from her hands. She sat before her frugal
board, and slowly and listlessly raised her cup of tea to her lips.
"I seem to be pushed gradually nearer and nearer the edge," she said to
herself. "What possessed mother to lose that money? Of course the man
was a thief. Mother is so silly, and she really gets worse as she grows
older. Dear little Mummy, I love her with all my heart; but her want of
common-sense does try me sometimes."
The day was going to be a particularly hot one. There was a mist all
over the horizon, and the breeze was moving languidly.
Florence had her window wide open, and was wondering how she could live
through the day. To-day was Saturday. To-morrow she would have a
pleasant time. She looked forward to meeting Maurice Trevor more than
she dared to admit to herself. She wondered what sort of woman his
mother was.
"At any rate," she said to herself, "he is nice. I like him, and I am
sure he likes me, and we shall enjoy ourselves on Hampstead Heath. It
won't be so hot there; it will be a little bit of the country. I must
send mother the five pounds, and I suppose I need not decide about that
awful manuscript till Monday."
These thoughts had scarcely come into her head before there came a knock
at her door. Florence went to open it, and Edith Franks, very neatly
dressed, and looking business-like and purposeful, with bright eyes and
a clear colour in her cheeks, stood on the threshold.
"How do you do?" she said. "I am just off to my work. I am about to have
a very hard day, but I thought I would refresh myself with a sight of
you. May I come in?"
"Please do," said Florence, but she did not look altogether happy as she
gave the invitation. Her bed was unmade, her dressing things were lying
about, her breakfast was just the sort which she did not wish the
keen-eyed medical student to see. There was no help for it, however.
Edith Franks had come up for the purpose of spying into the nakedness of
the land, and spy she did. She looked quickly round her in that darting,
bird-like manner which characterised all her movements. She saw the
untidy room, she noticed the humble, insufficient meal.
Edith Franks had the kindest heart in the world; but she was sometimes a
little, just a very little destitute of tact.
"My dear," she said, "may I sit down? Your stairs really take one's
breath away. I know now what I specially came for. Tom has promised to
call for me this morning."
"Who is Tom?" asked Florence.
"Don't you know? What a short memory you have! I told you something
about him last night--my clever journalist brother. He is on the staff
of the _Daily Tidings_, and the new six-penny magazine that people talk
so much about, the _Argonaut_. He has a splendid post, and has great
influence. If you will entrust that precious manuscript to me, I will
let Tom see it. He is the best of judges. If he says it is worth
anything, your fortune is made. If, on the other hand--"
"Oh, but he won't like it, and I think I would rather not," said
Florence. She turned very pale as she spoke. Edith gave her another
glance.
"Let me have it," she said. "Tom's seeing it means nothing. I will get
him to run his eye over it while we are at lunch together. Here, get it
for me; there's a good girl."
Florence rose. Her feet seemed weighted with lead. She unlocked her
drawer, took out the manuscript, and nearly flung it at Edith's head.
She restrained herself, however, and stood with it in her hand looking
as undecided as a girl could look.
"You tempt me mightily," she said; "why do you tempt me?"
"To get money for what is such splendid work," said Miss Franks, with a
gay laugh. "I am glad I tempt you, for you want money, you poor, proud,
queer girl. I like you--I like you much, but you must just let me help
you over this crisis. Give it to me, my dear."
She nearly snatched the manuscript from Florence, and thrust it into a
small leather bag which she wore at her side.
"Tom shall tell you what he thinks of it, and now ta! ta!"