It was twelve o'clock (noon) and I was sitting over the fire in our
squalid lodgings reading the attractive advertisements of country
mansions in a weekly journal. I had just decided on a delightful Tudor
manor-house with every modern convenience, a nice little park and
excellent fishing and shooting, when Betty burst upon me like a
whirlwind.
Her face was flushed and a fierce light shone in her usually mild
blue eyes. She looked like a Mænad or the incarnation of Victory at a
bargain sale.
"Come on," she gasped, seizing me by the arm. "Hurry."
"Good heavens! Is the house on fire? My child! Let me save my child."
"Oh, do come on," cried Betty; "there's not a moment to be lost."
"But how can I come on in slippers?" I demanded. "If I may not save
the young Henry Augustus, at any rate let me put on my boots."
Betty's only reply was to drag me from the room, hustle me through the
hall, where I dexterously caught my hat from the stand in passing, and
thrust me into the street.
"I've got a flat," she panted. "That is, I've got it if we're quick
enough. Hi, taxi!"
"But, my dear," I remonstrated as the taxi-driver, cowed by the look
in her eye, drew up to the kerb, "if we take a taxi we shan't have
anything left to pay for the flat."
"Victory Mansions, Trebarwith Road. Drive fast!" shouted Betty as she
pushed me into the cab.
"Now you've done it," I said bitterly. "Do you know I've only five
pounds ten on me at the moment? We shall lose the flat while we're
quarrelling with the driver."
"Oh, dear," cried Betty, "can't you see that this is serious? It was a
wonderful piece of luck. I was passing the mansions and I happened to
look up just as someone was sticking up a notice, 'Flat to Let,' in
one of the windows. There was a beast of a man on the other side of
the street and he simply leapt across the road. I slipped, or I should
have beaten him. As it was he got to the door a yard ahead of me. We
looked over the flat together, but of course he was first, and he
said he was sure it would suit him, only he must ask his wife. It was
awful! I felt as if I must kill him."
"So you followed him out and pushed him down the lift-shaft? My dear
brave girl!"
"No, but I heard him say he could be back in half-an-hour. I knew I
could do it in twenty-five minutes. Look!" Betty crushed my hand as in
a vice. "There he is."
As we took a corner on two wheels I looked out and saw a man running.
"Taxi!" he shouted in the hoarse voice of despair. Our driver sat like
a graven image and we swept on in triumph.
"Oh!" cried Betty suddenly, "suppose that, after all, somebody
else----" She choked on a sob.
"Courage, dear heart," I said. "All is not yet lost."
A moment later we had reached Victory Mansions and made a dash for the
flat.
"Are we in time?" asked Betty as the door was opened.
"I think so, Ma'am," said the smiling maid and ushered us into the
presence of the out-going tenant. A tour of the rooms at express speed
showed the flat to be a desirable one enough. There were three years
to run and the rent was not extortionate--for the times.
"I'll sign the agreement now," said I.
"Half-a-minute," said the out-going tenant as he produced the
documents; "I'll get a pen and ink."
The whirr of an electric bell resounded through the flat.
"Quick!" panted Betty. "Your fountain pen." I produced it and wrote my
name with a hand trembling with eagerness.
"A gentleman about the flat, Sir," said the maid, and, haggard, pale
and exhausted, our defeated rival staggered into the room.
He looked at us with a dumb agony in his eyes, and neither of us two
men had the courage to deal the fatal blow. It was Betty who spoke.
"I'm sorry, but we've just taken this flat," she said sweetly, and
added with true feminine cruelty, "I saw it first, you know."
The stranger lost control and crashed badly on the hearth-rug.
"Poor man," said Betty to the late tenant. "Be kind to him for our
sakes." Then she led the way to our cab.
"Hotel Splendid!" I said magnificently to the driver.
"Wot," he growled, "not in them slippers?"
"True," I said, with what dignity I could muster, and gave him the
address of our lodgings.
"None the less," I said to Betty, "you shall lunch among the
profiteers. This is a great day, and it is yours."
* * * * *