Richard was pretty decided in his ways. Hotel living would not suit him
now; and soon after breakfast he took his little valise, earned a look
of contempt from the hotel porter by saying that he did not require a
cab, and set off to walk from Paddington to Frank's chambers in the
Temple; where he arrived tired and hot, to climb the dreary-looking
stone stairs, and read on the door the legend written upon a wafered-up
paper, "Back in five minutes."
With all the patience of a man accustomed to watch, Richard up-ended his
portmanteau, and sat and waited hour after hour. Then he went out, and
obtained some lunch, returning to find the paper untouched.
Sitting down this time with a newspaper to while away the time, he tried
to read, but not a word fixed itself upon his mind; and he sat once more
thinking, till at last, weary and low-spirited, he walked out into the
Strand, the portmanteau feeling very heavy, but his determination strong
as ever.
"Keb, sir--keb, sir," said a voice at his elbow; for he was passing the
stand in Saint Clement's Churchyard.
"No, my man--no."
"Better take--why, I'm blest!"
The remark was so emphatic that Richard looked the speaker in the face.
"Don't you remember me, sir--axdent, sir--op'site your club, sir--me as
knocked the lady down, sir?"
"Oh yes," said Richard, "I remember you now. Not hurt, was she?"
"On'y shook, sir. But jump in, sir. Let me drive yer, sir. Here, I'll
take the portmanter."
"No, no," said Richard, "I don't want to ride, I--there, confound it,
man, what are you about?"
"No, 'fence, sir--I on'y wanted to drive a gent as was so kind as you
was. Odd, aint it, sir? That there lady lives along o' me, at my
house, now--lodges, you know--'partments to let, furnished."
"Apartments!" cried Richard, eagerly; "do you know of any apartments?"
"Plenty out Jermyn Street way, sir."
"No, no; I mean cheap lodgings."
"What, for a gent like you, sir?" said Sam Jenkles.
"No, no--I'm no gentleman," said Richard, bitterly; "only a poor man. I
want cheap rooms."
"Really, sir?" said Sam, rubbing his nose viciously.
"Yes, really, my man. Can you tell me of any?"
"You jump in, sir, and I'll run you up home in no time."
"But I--"
"My missus knows everybody 'bout us as has rooms to let--quiet lodgings,
you know, sir; six bob a week style--cheap."
"No, no; give me your address, and I'll walk."
"No you don't, sir, along o' that portmanter. Now, I do wonder at a
gent like you being so obstinit."
Richard still hesitated; but it was an opportunity not to be lost, and,
before he had time to thoroughly make up his mind, Sam had hoisted the
portmanteau on the roof, afterwards holding open the flap of the cab.
"It's all right, sir; jump in, sir. Ratty wants a run, and you can't
carry that there portmanter."
"A bad beginning," muttered Richard.
Then he stepped into the cab, and the apron was banged to, Sam hopped on
to his perch, and away they rattled along the Strand into Fleet Street,
and up Chancery Lane.
"He's a-going it to-day, sir, aint he?" said a voice; and Richard turned
sharply round, to see Sam Jenkles's happy-looking face grinning through
the trap. "He's as fresh as a daisy."
The little trapdoor was rattled down again, for other vehicles were
coming, and Sam's hands were needed at the reins, the more especially
that Ratty began to display the strangeness of his disposition by laying
down his ears, whisking his tail, and trying hard to turn the cab round
and round, clay-mill fashion. But this was got over, the rest of the
journey performed in peace, and Sam drew up shortly at the door of his
little home, the two front windows of which had been turned into
gardens, as far as the sills were concerned, with miniature green
palings, gate and all, the whole sheltering a fine flourishing display
of geraniums and fuchsias, reflected in window-panes as clean as hands
could make them.
"Why, this would do capitally," said Richard, taken by the aspect of the
place.
"Dessay it would, sir," said Sam, grinning; "but our rooms is let. But
come in, sir, and see the missus--she'll pick you out somewheres nice
and clean. But, hallo! what's up?"
Richard had seen that which brought the exclamation from Sam's lips, and
stepped forward to help.
For, about a dozen yards down the quiet little street, Mrs Lane was
supporting Netta, the pair returning evidently from a walk, and the
latter being overcome.
"Thank you--a little faint--went too far," said Mrs Lane, as Richard
ran up to where she was sustaining her daughter. "Netta, darling, only
a few yards farther. Try, dear."
"She has fainted," said Richard. "Here, let me carry her."
Before Mrs Lane could speak, Richard had taken the light figure in his
arms, and, guided by the frightened mother, bore it to Sam's door.
"That's right, sir, in there," said Sam, eagerly--"fust door on the
left's the parly. Poor gal!"
This last was in an undertone, as the young man easily bore his burden
in--finding, though, that a pair of large dark eyes had unclosed, and
were gazing timidly in his, while a deep blush overspread cheek and
forehead.
"There," said Richard, laying her lightly down upon the couch, and
helping to arrange the pillows with all a woman's tenderness. "You look
weak and ill, my dear, and--and--I beg pardon," he said, hesitating, as
he met Mrs Lane's gaze, "I think we have met before."
Mrs Lane turned white, and shrank away.
"Of course," said Richard, smiling. "My friend here, who drove me up,
told me you lodged with him."
Mrs Lane did not speak, only bowed her head over Netta.
"If I can do anything, pray ask me," said Richard, backing to the door,
and nearly overturning bustling Mrs Jenkles, who came hurrying in
with--
"Oh, my dear, you've been overdoing it--I beg your pardon, sir."
"My fault, I think," said Richard.
And with another glance at the great dark eyes following him, he backed
into the passage--this time upon Sam, who had carried in the
portmanteau.
"If you wouldn't mind, sir," said Sam--"our back room here's on'y a
kitchen; but we lets our parlour, as you see. There," he said, leading
the way, "that's my cheer, sir; and the wife 'll come and talk to you
dreckly, I dessay. I must go back on to the rank."
"One moment," said Richard.
"There, sir, I don't want paying for a bit of a job like this," said
Sam. "Oh, well, if you will pay, I shall put that down to the lodgers'
nex' ride."
"They are your lodgers, then?"
"Yes, sir; and it all come out of that old Ratty when I knocked Mrs
Lane over."
"But the young lady?"
"Thanky, sir, for calling her so; that's just what she is."
"Is she an invalid?"
"Feard so, sir," said Sam, in a hoarse whisper. "I don't like her looks
at all. But I can't stop, sir; the missus 'll be here, and I hope
she'll know of a place as suits."
The next moment, Sam Jenkles was gone, and Richard sat looking round at
the bright candlesticks and saucepan-lids, hardly able to realise the
fact that but a day or two before he was the master of Penreife, for
what had taken place seemed to be back years ago.
His musings were interrupted by the entry of Mrs Jenkles, who stood
curtseying and smoothing her apron.
"Is she better?" said Richard, anxiously.
"Yes, sir, she's quite well again now," said Mrs Jenkles. "She's weak,
sir--rather delicate health; and Sam--that is my husband--said you
wanted apartments, sir."
"And that you would be able to find me some," said Richard, smiling.
"I don't think we've anything good enough about here, sir, for a
gentleman like you."
"For a poor man like me, you mean. Now look here, Mrs--Mrs--"
"Jenkles, sir."
"Mrs Jenkles. I can afford to pay six or seven shillings a-week, that
is all."
"Then there's Mrs Fiddison, sir, nearly opposite. Very clean and
respectable. Bedroom and sitting-room, where a young gentleman left
only about a week ago. He played a long brass thing, sir, at one of the
theatres, and used to practise it at home; and that's why he left."
"That will do, I daresay," exclaimed Richard, who, in the first blush of
his determination, was stern as an ascetic, and would have said Yes to
the lodgings if Mrs Jenkles had proposed a couple of neatly furnished
cellars.
The result was that the cabman's wife went over with him to Mrs
Fiddison's, and introduced him to that lady, who was dressed in sombre
black, held a widow's cap in her hand, and was evidently determined to
keep up the supply, for there were at least six arranged about the
little parlour into which she led the way.
Volume 3, Chapter IV.