Eleanor's cab rumbled away round the corner. Mrs. Bailey was still
standing at the top of the steps. Miriam ran up the steps looking busily
ahead. It's going to be a lovely evening she said as she passed Mrs.
Bailey. She was safely in the hall. But the front door was closed and
Mrs. Bailey was in the hall just behind her. She turned abruptly, almost
colliding with her, into the dining-room. Mrs. Bailey's presence was
there waiting for her in the empty room. Behind her just inside the door
was Mrs. Bailey, blocking the way to the untrammelled house. There's
quite a lot of August left she quoted from the thoughts that had poured
down to meet her as she stood facing the stairs. The clock on the
mantelpiece was telling the time of Mrs. Bailey's day. The empty room
was waiting for the next event, a spread meal, voices sounding towards a
centre, distracting attention from its increasing shabbiness ...
there was never _long_ for it to remain sounding its shabbiness, the
sound of dust, into the empty space. Events going on and on, giving no
time to get in, behind the dusty shabbiness to the sweet dreams and
health and quiet breathing....
"What a jolly big room this _is_, isn't it?" she demanded, turning
towards Mrs. Bailey's shapely skimpy form. Mrs. Bailey knew she was
chafing in the airless shabby room. The windows closed to keep the dust
_out_ made the dust _smell_.
"Isn't it?" agreed Mrs. Bailey cordially.
"You _must_ have been glad to get rid of the lodgers and have possession
of the whole house."
"Yes" said Mrs. Bailey straightening the sideboard cloth.
Hearty agreement about the advantages and disadvantages of boarders and
then, I think it's very _plucky_ of you and away upstairs. A few words
about the interest of having boarders to begin getting to the door with.
"The Irishman's an interesting specimen of humanity."
"Isn't he interesting," laughed Mrs. Bailey moving further into the
room.
"It's much more interesting to have boarders than lodgers" said Miriam
moving along the pathway of freedom towards the open door. Mrs. Bailey
stood silent, watching politely. There was no way out. Mrs. Bailey's
presence would be waiting in the hall, and upstairs, unappeased. Miriam
glanced towards her without meeting her eyes and sat limply down on the
nearest chair.
"Phoo--it's rather a relief," she murmured.
Mrs. Bailey went briskly to the door and closed it and came freely back
into the room, a little exacting figure who had seen all her selfish
rejoicing. She would get up now and walk about the room, talking easily
and eloquently about Eleanor's charm and go away leaving Mrs. Bailey
mystified and disposed of.
"My _word_" declared Mrs. Bailey tweaking the window curtains. Then Mrs.
Bailey _was_ ready and anxious to talk her over and impart her opinion.
After seeming to like her so much and being so attentive and sending her
off so gaily and kindly, she had some grievance. It was not the bill. It
was a matter of opinion. Mrs. Bailey had been charmed and had yet seen
through her. Seen what? What was the everlasting secret of Eleanor? She
imagined them standing talking together, politely, and joking and
laughing. Mrs. Bailey would like Eleanor's jokes; they would be in
agreement with her own opinions about things. But she had formed some
idea of her and was ready to express it. If it explained anything one
would have to accept it, from Mrs. Bailey. To make nice general remarks
about her and enquire insincerely about the bill would be never to get
Mrs. Bailey's uninfluenced opinion. She would not give it unless she
were asked.
"I'm awfully sorry for her," she said in Eve's voice. That would mean
just her poverty and her few clothes and delicate health. There could be
an insincere discussion. It might end in nothing and the mean selfish
joy would still be waiting upstairs as soon as one had forgotten that it
was mean and selfish.
"So am _I_" said Mrs. Bailey heartily. There was anger in her face.
There really _was_ something, some really bad opinion about Eleanor.
Mrs. Bailey thought these things more important than joyful freedom. She
was one of those people who would do things; then there were other
people too; then one need not trouble about what it was or warn people
against Eleanor. The world would find out and protect itself, passing
her on. If Mrs. Bailey felt there was something wrong, no one need feel
blamed for thinking so. There was. _What_ was it?
"I'm the last to be down on anyone in difficulties" said Mrs. Bailey.
"Oh yes." It was coming.
"It's the _way_ of people _I_ look to." She stopped. If she were not
pressed she would say no more.
"Oh, by the way, Mrs. Bailey, has her bill been settled?" The voice of
Mrs. Lionel ... she's unsquashable my dear, absolutely unsquashable.
You never saw _anything_ like it in your _life_. But she's done frerself
in Weston. It might finish the talk.
"That's all in order young lady. It's not that at all."
"Oh, I know. I'm glad though."
"I had my own suspicions before you told me you'd be responsible. I
never thought about that."
"No, I see."
"It's the _way_ of people."
"Well you know I told you at once that you must have her here at your
own risk after the first week, and that I hardly knew anything about
her." If she had paid the two weeks so easily perhaps Mr. Taunton was
still looking after her needs. No. She would have mentioned him. He had
dropped her entirely; after all he had said.
"I'm not blaming you, young lady." Perhaps Mrs. Bailey had offered
advice and been rebuffed in some way. There would be some mysterious
description of character; like the Norwegian ... 'selfish in a way I
couldn't describe to you'....
"If I'd known what it was going to be I'd not have had her in the house
two days."
... some man ... who? ... but they were out all day and Eleanor had
been with her every evening. Besides Mrs. Bailey would sympathise with
that.... She was furiously angry; "not two days." But she _had_ been
charmed. Charmed and admiring.
"Did she flirt with some one?"
"That" said Mrs. Bailey gravely, "I can't tell you. She may have; that's
her own affair. I wouldn't necessary blame her. Everyone's free to do as
they like provided they behave theirselves." Mrs. Bailey was brushing at
her skirt with downcast eyes.
... This woman had opened Dr. von Heber's letter; knew he was coming
next year; knew that he "would not have permitted" any talk at all, and
that all her interference was meaningless. _He_ was coming, carrying his
suitcase out of the hospital, no need for the smart educated Canadian
nurses to think about him ... taking ship ... coming back. Perhaps
she resented having been in the wrong.
"It was funny how she found a case so suddenly," said Miriam drawing
herself upright, careless, like a tree in the wind. She had already
forgotten she would always feel like that, her bearing altered for ever,
held up by him, like a tree in the wind, everyone powerless to embarrass
her. Poor Mrs. Bailey....
"You see I feel I drove her to it, in a way."
Mrs. Bailey listened smiling keenly.
"Yes you _see_" pursued Miriam cheerfully, "I told her she would be all
right for a week. I blamed _you_ for that, said you were flourishing and
she could pay when her ship came home."
"That's what you told her eh?"
"Well and then when she admitted she had no money and I knew I couldn't
manage more than a week, I advised her to apply to the C.O.S. She said
she would and seemed delighted and when I asked her about it later she
cried and said she hadn't been. I said she must do _something_ and then
suddenly this case appeared. _Where_ I don't know."
"I don't blame her for not wanting to go _there_."
"Why?"
"My word. I'd as soon go straight to the parish."
"Wilberforce believes in them. He says if you really want to help the
helpless you will not flaunt your name in subscription lists but hand
your money over to the C.O.S. They are the only charitable organization
that does not pauperise."
"Him? Wilberforce? He has a right to his own opinions I don't deny. But
if he'd ever been in difficulties he might change them. _Insulting_,
that's my opinion. My word the _questions_ they ask. You can't call your
soul your own."
"I didn't know that. That friend my sister brought here was being helped
by them."
"How is Miss Henderson?"
"Perfectly happy. Being with the Greens again seems _Paradise_ she says,
after London. She's satisfied now."
"Mts. She's a sweet young lady; them's fortunate as have her."
"Well now she's tried something else she appreciates the beautiful home.
I don't think she wants to be free."
"Quite so. Persons differ. But she's her own mistress; free to leave."
"Of course it's nicer now. The children are at school. She's
confidential companion. They all like her so much. They invented it for
her."
"Quite right. That's as it should be."
"And she is absolutely in Mrs. Green's confidence now. I don't know what
poor Mrs. Green would do without her. She went back just in time for a
most _fearful_ tragedy."
"Tss; dear--_dear_" murmured Mrs. Bailey waiting with frowning calm
eagerness. Miriam hesitated. It would be a long difficult story to make
Mrs. Bailey see stupid commercial wealth. She would see wealthy
"people," a "gentleman" living in a large country house, and not
understand Mr. Green at all; but _Eve_, getting the bunch of keys from
the ironmonger's and writing to Bennett to find out about Rupert Street
... and the _detective_. She would have it in her mind like a novel and
never let it go. It would be a breach of confidence.... She paused,
not knowing what to do with her sudden animation. It was too late to get
back into being an impartial listener, on the verge of going away. She
had told everything, without the interesting details. Mrs. Bailey was
waiting for them. They were still safe. She might think it was an
illness or something about a relative. The only thing to do now was to
stay and work off the unexplained animation on anything Mrs. Bailey
might choose to say. "Well" said Mrs. Bailey presently, "to return to
our friend. What I say is, why doesn't she go to the clergy, in her own
parish?"
"Go on the parish, m'm."
"Not necessarily on the parish. The clergy's most helpful and
sympathetic. They might tell her of those who would help her."
"They might. But it's most awfully difficult. _Nobody_ knows what ought
to be done about these things."
"That is so. But there's a right and a wrong in everything. There's
plenty of people willing to help those that will help theirselves. But
that's very different to coming into a person's house to try and get
money out of strangers."
"I _say_."
"It is I _say_. I never felt so ashamed in my life."
"I _say_.... Did they tell you?"
"Mrs. Hurd came to me herself."
"Mrs. Hurd. Of course, it would be."
"My word. I _was_ wild. And them only just come into my house."
"Yes, of course; I _say_."
"Tellin' them she was _ill_."
"She is ill you know."
"There's some imagines theirselves ill. If she was anything like as ill
as I am she might have something to complain about."
"I think she's rather plucky. She doesn't want to give in. It's a kind
of illness that doesn't show much. I know her doctor. He's a Harley
Street man. _He_ says that her kind of disorder makes it absolutely
impossible for the patient to tell the truth. I don't believe that. It's
just one of those doctory things they all repeat."... What is truth
said jesting Pilate and did not wait for an answer. _Their_ idea of
truth--
"Well if she is ill why doesn't she act according?"
"Look _after_ herself a bit. Yes. That's what she wants to do. But not
give in."
"Quite so. That's a thing a person can understand. But that doesn't make
it right to come to private people and behave in the way she has done.
Strangers. I never met such conduct, nor heard of it."
"No."
"She's got relatives I suppose; or friends."
"Well, that's just it. I don't think she has. I suppose the truth is all
her friends are tired of helping her."
"Well, I'm not judging her there. There's none can be so cruel as
relatives, as _I_ know, my word."
"Yes."
"They'll turn from you when you're struggling to the utmost to help
yourself, going on ill, left with four young children, your husband cut
off and not a _penny_."
"Yes."
"I agree with her there. I owe all I have, under Providence, to my own
hands and the help coming from strangers I had no claim on. But why
doesn't she act open? That's what _I_ say and I know it. There's always
those ready to help you if you'll do your part. It's all take and no
give with some."
"Vampires. People _are_ extraordinary."
"You'd say so if you had this house to manage."
"I suppose so."
"You get your eyes open. With one and another."
"I'd no idea she'd even been talking to the Hurds."
"Talk? Well I don't mind telling you now she's gone."
"Well, she won't come back again. If she ever does Mrs. Bailey I hereby
refuse all responsibility. On your head be it if you take her in. _I_
can't keep her."
"Well, as I say, I'm free to tell you. They used to go upstairs into the
drawn-room, mornings, after breakfast. I could hear that woman's voice
going on and on. I was up and down the stairs. What's more she used to
stop dead the minute I came in."
"Well I am sorry you've had all this."
"I'm not blaming you, young lady."
"What about all the others?"
"Rodkin and Helsing and Gunner's out all day."
"Yes but the others? The Manns and the Irish journalist."
"She'd be clever to get anything out of any of _them_."
"I wonder she didn't try Mrs. Barrow. She's kind I'm sure and gullible."
"She's very kind no doubt in her way. Anyway she's not one of those who
live on a widow woman and pay nothing."
The old sense of the house was crumbling. To Mrs. Bailey it was _worry_
and things she could not talk about to anyone, and a few nice people
here and there. And all the time she was _polite_; as if she liked them
all, equally. And they were polite. Everyone was polite. And behind it
was all this. Shifts and secrets and strange characters. When they were
all together at Mrs. Bailey's dinner, they were all carrying things off,
politely. Perhaps already she regretted having sent away the lodgers.
"The doctors were nice people to have in the house."
"Wasn't they dear boys? _Very_ nice gentlemen. Canadians are the ones to
my mind, though I believe as much as any in standing by your own. But
you've got to consider your interests."
"Of course."
"That's why I mean to ad_ver_tiss. My word those Hurds are good friends
if you like. I couldn't tell you. The old man's put an advert for me in
the Canadian place in the city."
"Then you'll have a houseful of Canadians."
"That's what I _hope_. The more the better of their kind."
"We shall all be speaking Canadian."
"Well, since we're on the subject, Mrs. Hurd advises me to _go_ to
Canada. Says it's all work and no pay over here. Everybody expects too
much for too little."
How _could_ she rejoice in the idea of a house full of Canadians? All
the same. Canadian. It would change the house more and more. Mrs. Bailey
would not mind that. The house meant nothing to her just as it was with
its effect. She had to make it pay. If another house would pay better
she would just as soon have another house. "You wouldn't like to leave
London; there's no place like London." The Hurds thought everyone in the
house _selfish_, living on Mrs. Bailey's work, enjoying the house for
nothing, forgetting her. It was true ... uneasy in her presence....