A horse and carriage did come, one flamboyant afternoon, but it was
the Samuelsons', and brought the long-absent Kitty. And Kitty as usual
brought a present. This time it was a bracelet, and Mrs. Brill clasped
and unclasped it ecstatically, feeling that she had at least one
daughter who loved her and did not domineer. Salvina was at school,
and Mrs. Brill took Kitty all over the house, enjoying her approval,
and accepting all the praise for the lighter and more artistic
furniture. She told her of the episode of the return of the old
furniture--"And didn't have the decency to put new castors on the sofa
she had sprawled on!"
Kitty's laughter was as loud and ringing as Salvina had anticipated;
Mrs. Brill coloured under it, as though _she_ were found food for
laughter. "What a ridiculous person he is!" Kitty added hastily.
"Yes," said Mrs. Brill with eager pride and relief. "He thought he
could coax me back like a dog with a bit of sugar."
"It would be too funny to live with him again." And Kitty's eyes
danced.
"Do you think so?" said Mrs. Brill anxiously. And under the sunshine
of her daughter's approval she confided to her that he had really
turned up twice at Lazarus's, beautifully costumed, with diamonds on
his fingers and a white flower in his button-hole, but that she had
repulsed him as she would repulse a drunken heathen. He had put his
arms round her, but she had shaken him off as one shakes off a black
beetle.
Kitty turned away and stuffed her handkerchief into her mouth. She
knew there was a tragic side, but the comic aspect affected her more.
"Then you think I was right?" Mrs. Brill wound up.
"Of course," Kitty said soothingly. "What do you want of him?"
"But don't tell Salvina, or she'd eat my head off." And then, the
eager upleaping fountain of her mother's egoistic babblings beginning
at last to trickle thinly, Kitty found a breathing-space in which to
inform her of the great news that throbbed in her own breast.
"Lily Samuelson's dead! Mrs. Rosenstein, you know!"
"Oh, my God!" ejaculated Mrs. Brill, trembling like a leaf. Nothing
upset her more than to find that persons within her ken could actually
die.
"Yes, we had a cable from the Cape yesterday."
"Hear, O Israel! Let me see--yes, she must have died in child-birth."
"She did--the house is all in hysterics. I couldn't stand it any
longer. I ordered the carriage and came here."
"My poor Kitty! That Lily was too old to have a baby. And now he will
marry Mabel."
"Oh, no, mother."
"Oh, yes, he will. Mabel will jump at him, you'll see."
"But it isn't legal--you can't marry your deceased wife's sister."
"I know you can't in England--what foolishness! But they'll go to
Holland to be married."
"Don't be so absurd, mother."
"Absurd!" Mrs. Brill glared. "You mark my words. They'll be in Holland
before the year's out, like Hyam Emanuel's eldest brother-in-law and
the red-haired sister of Samuel, the pawnbroker."
"Well, I don't care if they are," said Kitty, yawning.
"Don't care! Why, you'll lose your place. They kept you on for Mabel,
but now--"
Kitty cut her short. "Don't worry, mother. I'll be all right. He's not
married Mabel yet."
This reminder seemed to come to Mrs. Brill like a revelation, so fast
had her imagination worked. She calmed down and Kitty took the
opportunity to seek to escape. "Tell Salvina the news," she said.
"She'll be specially interested in it. In fact, judging by the last
time, she'll be more excited than I am," and she smiled somewhat
mysteriously. "Tell her I'm sorry I missed her--I was hoping to find
her having a holiday, but apparently I haven't been lucky enough to
strike some Jewish fast."
But partly because Mrs. Brill was enraptured by her beautiful
daughter, partly to keep the pompous equipage outside her door as long
as possible, she detained Kitty so unconscionably that Salvina arrived
from school. Kitty flew to embrace her as usual, but arrested herself,
shocked.
"Why, Sally!" she cried. "You look like a ghost! What's the matter?"
"Nothing," said Salvina with a wan smile. "Just the excitement of
seeing you, I suppose."
Kitty performed the postponed embrace but remained dubious and shaken.
Was it that her mind was morbidly filled with funereal images, or was
it that her fresh eye had seen what her mother's custom-blinded vision
had missed--that there was death in Salvina's face?
This face of death-in-life stirred up unwonted emotions in Kitty and
made her refrain apprehensively from speaking again of Lily's death;
and some days later, when the first bustle of grief had subsided in
Bedford Square, Kitty, still haunted by that grewsome vision, wrote
Salvina a letter.
"MY DEAR OLD SALLY,--You must really draw in your horns. You
were not looking at all well the other day. You are burning the
candle at both ends, I am sure. That horrid Board School is
killing you. I am going to beg a fortnight's holiday for you,
and I am going to take you to Boulogne for a week, and then,
when you are all braced up again, we can have the second week at
Paris."
"MY DEAREST AND BEST OF SISTERS," [Salvina replied,] "How
shocking the news mother has told me of the death of poor Lily!
If she did wrong she was speedily punished. But let us hope she
really loved him. I am sure that your brooding on her sad fate
and your sympathy with the family in this terrible affliction
has made you fancy all sorts of things about me, just as mother
is morbidly apprehensive of that horrible creature marrying
Mabel and thus robbing you of your place. But your sweet letter
did me more good than if I had really gone to Paris. How did you
know it was the dream of my life? But it cannot be realized just
yet, for it would be impossible for me to be spared from school
just now. Miss Green is away with diphtheria, and as this is
examination time, Miss Rolver has her hands full. Besides,
mother would be left alone. Don't worry about me, darling. I
always feel like this about this time of year, but the summer
holiday is not many weeks off and Ramsgate always sets me up
again.
"Your loving sister,
"SALVINA.
"P.S. Mother told me you advised her not to go to Lazarus's any
more, and she isn't going. I am so glad, dear. These visits have
worried her, as Lazarus is so persistent. I am only sorry I
didn't think of enlisting your influence before--it is naturally
greater than mine. Good-bye, dear.
"P.P.S. I find I have actually forgotten to thank you for your
generous offer. But you know all that is in my heart, don't you,
darling?"
All the same Kitty's alarm began to communicate itself to Salvina,
especially after repeated if transient premonitions of fainting in her
class-room. For what would happen if she really fell ill? She could
get sick leave of course for a time; though that would bring her under
the eagle eye of the Board Doctor, before which every teacher quailed.
He might brutally pronounce her unfit for service. And how if she did
break down permanently? Or if she died! Her savings were practically
nil; her salary ceased with her breath. Who would support her mother?
Kitty of course would nobly take up the burden, but it would be
terribly hard on her, especially when Mabel Samuelson should come to
marry. Not that she was going to die, of course; she was too used to
being sickly. Death was only a shadow, hovering far off.