THE next day was Saturday; and as the shop closed at one, June
prepared to keep her promise of accompanying William to his “treasure
house.” Strategy was needed, all the same. After she had washed up, she
put on her “going out” dress. But when she came downstairs in it, Uncle
Si, who took a most unwelcome interest in all her movements, inquired
what was in the wind.
“I’m going to look at a hat,” was the answer, bland and cool.
“Going to look _at_ a hat!” To the mind of Uncle Si it was an
unheard-of proceeding. “Next thing you’ll be wanting to buy a hat.”
June confessed that it might be so.
“You’ve got one already, haven’t you? Besides, the shops won’t be open.”
The good shops might not be open, June allowed. But she was not seeking
a good hat. The article to which her fancy turned was for every-day
use; yet when all was said it was a mere blind. She did not really
intend to buy a hat, but she certainly meant if possible, to throw dust
in the eyes of the Old Crocodile. Had he been able to guess that she
was going with William to the National Gallery he would have banned the
expedition.
In order to stand well with her conscience and not be a story teller
in the eyes of the world, June walked as far as the Strand, and
carefully inspected the window of a cheap milliner’s. And then, as
arranged, she met William as the clocks were striking three at the
Charing Cross corner of Trafalgar Square.
It was a glorious September afternoon. And for June it was an exquisite
if brief escape from servitude. She had yet to see William apart from
the shop, yet now, as she came upon him standing by the post office,
she was quite struck by his appearance. Tall and slight of form, he
carried himself well, his neat suit of blue serge, old though it was
in the revealing light of the sun, was brushed with scrupulous care,
and his large flowing tie which he had the art of tying in a way of his
own, made him look so interesting that June secretly was rather proud
of being seen in his company. For undeniably he was handsome. In fact,
standing there straight, alert and smiling upon the world, he had a
look of mysterious charm which in the eye of one beholder raised him
above the run of men.
At the sight of June, he lifted his old straw hat with a little air
of homage, and also with a slight blush that became him adorably. And
in his mood there was a poetry that delighted her, although she was
careful not to let him know it.
“How wonderful it all is!” He waved his hand gaily to the sky. “And to
think that every bit of it belongs to you and me!”
June, as matter-of-fact a young woman as the city of Blackhampton had
ever produced, felt bound to ask what William meant by this extravagant
remark. Charmed she was, and yet she was a little scandalised too.
“Beauty, beauty everywhere,” said the young man, letting his voice
take its delicious fall. “There was an old Frenchman who said, that to
see Beauty is to possess it. Look, Miss June, at that marvellous blue,
and those wonderful, wonderful clouds that even Van Roon himself could
hardly have painted. It is all ours, you know, all for our enjoyment,
all for you and me.”
“But you are speaking of the world, aren’t you?” There was a slight
note of protest in June’s solemn tone.
“If you fall in love with beauty, all the world is yours. There’s no
escape from beauty so long as the sky is above us. No matter where we
walk we are face to face with beauty.”
June was afraid that a girl who looked so smart in a lilac silk dress
and a picture hat that she had the air of a fashion plate must have
caught William’s injudicious observation. At any rate, she smiled at
him as they passed. But then arose the question, had he not first
smiled at her? Certainly, to be up against that intriguing frock, to
say nothing of the hat, must have meant rare provocation for such an
out-and-out lover of the ornamental.
Miss Grandeur, no doubt, had caught the look in his eyes which a minute
ago June herself had surprised there. He simply could not help paying
tribute to such radiance.
But was the girl beautiful? There was no doubt that William thought so.
Still, the worst of it was that in his eyes everything under the sun
was beautiful.
“She’d be nothing at all if it were not for the money she spends on
herself,” June remarked, with more severity than relevance.
All the same it was a rare experience to walk abroad with William.
He had an eye for all things and in all things he found the thing he
sought.
On the steps of the National Gallery was a majestic policeman. To June
he was but an ordinary symbol of the law, but for William he had a
different message.
“Good morning, sir!”
At the compliment of this unwonted style of address, Constable X drew
himself up, and returned the greeting with a proud smile.
“I can’t tell you how grateful we are to you,” said William, “for
taking such care of our treasures.”
The policeman seemed rather amused. “It’s my job,” he said, training,
at the same time, upon June an eye of quizzical intelligence. It was
odd, yet all in a moment Constable X had ceased to be a stern-looking
fellow.
As soon as William crossed the threshold of his treasure house, a
kind of rapture came upon him. His voice grew hushed. And to June it
seemed doubtful whether he would ever get beyond the Hermes on the main
staircase. Once within this palace of many enchantments, he began to
lose all sense of time and place; and, in spite of the fact that he was
the soul of chivalry, he even seemed in danger of forgetting that he
was accompanied by a lady.
Troubled at last by the silence of her escort, June gently observed:
“This place seems nearly as big as the Blackhampton Art Museum.”
To William’s fine perception it was a delicate reminder that art is
eternal, and that in the month of September the National Gallery closes
at six.
The young man sighed deeply and turned away from the Hermes. Up the
main staircase they walked side by side.
“Keep straight on, Miss June. If we glance to the right or the left, we
may not get to the Van Roon before next Saturday.”
“We!” was June’s thought. “Better speak for yourself. In the
Blackhampton Art Museum we have things far nicer than a few old chipped
statues.” Happily, for the time being at least, it remained a thought
without words.
They went through a room on the right, and then into an inner room.
June was led to its farthest corner, and proudly marshalled into the
presence of an object so small, and so insignificant, that she felt
it was really surprising that even William should attach the least
importance to it.
However, a mere glance proved that it was not so surprising after all.
The picture contained a cloud, a tree, some water and a windmill. And
these objects in themselves so trivial, yet sufficed, as June had
learned already, to raise William at any time to the seventh heaven of
bliss.
A moment’s inspection of the picture was enough for June. To her mind
the work was quite commonplace. Yet William stood in front of it in
an attitude of silent adoration, his head a little to one side, and
apparently holding his breath for such a long period that June began to
wonder how the trick was done. She was bound in honour to share this
silent ecstasy, but having varied the proceedings a little by standing
first on her right foot, and then on her left, she decided at last to
throw up her part.
Very gently she put an end to William’s reverie.
“I think I will sit down,” said June.
“Please, please do!” The queer fellow came back with a start to the
world of reality. “Let us sit over there on the corner of that sofa.
Perhaps we may be able to see it even better then than we do now.”
To the sofa they went accordingly and to June’s discomfiture her mentor
was at pains to dispose them both in a way that should enable them to
keep the picture in their eye. June had no wish to keep the picture in
her eye. She had had more than enough of it already. Besides, the large
room was full of things vastly more imposing, much better worth looking
at. But William, even seated on the sofa by her side, was still in
thrall to this remarkable work.
There is no saying how long June’s trial would have lasted, but after
it had gone on for a length of time that began to seem interminable, it
came to an end in the most abrupt and dramatic way. Without any kind of
warning, a strange appearance swam into their ken. Uncle Si, looking
spruce and businesslike, and much better dressed than usual, entered
the room through the door behind them.