VIII

'I wouldn't go through it again for a hundred pounds,' said George, when

he recounted his experience to his mother. 'And she wasn't a bit humble,

as you'd expect.'

'Oh! that's Daisy all over. Whatever happens to her, she'll be as bold

as brass.'

'And she didn't choose her language,' he said, with mingled grief and

horror.

* * * * *

They heard nothing more of Daisy for over a year, when George went up to

London for the choir treat. He did not come back till three o'clock in

the morning, but he went at once to his mother's room.

He woke her very carefully, so as not to disturb his father. She started

up, about to speak, but he prevented her with his hand.

'Come outside; I've got something to tell you.'

Mrs Griffith was about to tell him rather crossly to wait till the

morrow, but he interrupted her,--

'I've seen Daisy.'

She quickly got out of bed, and they went together into the parlour.

'I couldn't keep it till the morning,' he said.... 'What d'you think

she's doing now? Well, after we came out of the Empire, I went down

Piccadilly, and--well, I saw Daisy standing there.... It did give me a

turn, I can tell you; I thought some of the chaps would see her. I

simply went cold all over. But they were on ahead and hadn't noticed

her.'

'Thank God for that!' said Mrs Griffith, piously.

'Well, what d'you think I did? I went straight up to her and looked her

full in the face. But d'you think she moved a muscle? She simply looked

at me as if she'd never set eyes on me before. Well, I was taken aback,

I can tell you. I thought she'd faint. Not a bit of it.'

'No, I know Daisy,' said Mrs Griffith; 'you think she's this and that,

because she looks at you with those blue eyes of hers, as if she

couldn't say bo to a goose, but she's got the very devil inside her....

Well, I shall tell her father that, just so as to let him see what she

has come to.'...

* * * * *

The existence of the Griffith household went on calmly. Husband and wife

and son led their life in the dull little fishing town, the seasons

passed insensibly into one another, one year slid gradually into the

next; and the five years that went by seemed like one long, long day.

Mrs Griffith did not alter an atom; she performed her housework, went to

church regularly, and behaved like a Christian woman in that state of

life in which a merciful Providence had been pleased to put her. George

got married, and on Sunday afternoons could be seen wheeling an infant

in a perambulator along the street. He was a good husband and an

excellent father. He never drank too much, he worked well, he was

careful of his earnings, and he also went to church regularly; his

ambition was to become churchwarden after his father. And even in Mr

Griffith there was not so very much change. He was more bowed, his hair

and beard were greyer. His face was set in an expression of passive

misery, and he was extremely silent. But as Mrs Griffith said,--

'Of course, he's getting old. One can't expect to remain young for

ever'--she was a woman who frequently said profound things--'and I've

known all along he wasn't the sort of man to make old bones. He's never

had the go in him that I have. Why, I'd make two of him.'

The Griffiths were not so well-to-do as before. As Blackstable became a

more important health resort, a regular undertaker opened a shop there;

and his window, with two little model coffins and an arrangement of

black Prince of Wales's feathers surrounded by a white wreath, took the

fancy of the natives, so that Mr Griffith almost completely lost the

most remunerative part of his business. Other carpenters sprang into

existence and took away much of the trade.

'I've no patience with him,' said Mrs Griffith, of her husband. 'He lets

these newcomers come along and just take the bread out of his hands.

Oh, if I was a man, I'd make things different, I can tell you! He

doesn't seem to care.'...

* * * * *

At last, one day George came to his mother in a state of tremendous

excitement.

'I say, mother, you know the pantomime they've got at Tercanbury this

week?'

'Yes.'

'Well, the principal boy's Daisy.'

Mrs Griffith sank into a chair, gasping.

'Harry Ferne's been, and he recognised her at once. It's all over the

town.'

Mrs Griffith, for the first time in her life, was completely at a loss

for words.

'To-morrow's the last night,' added her son, after a little while, 'and

all the Blackstable people are going.'

'To think that this should happen to me!' said Mrs Griffith,

distractedly. 'What have I done to deserve it? Why couldn't it happen to

Mrs Garman or Mrs Jay? If the Lord had seen fit to bring it upon

them--well, I shouldn't have wondered.'

'Edith wants us to go,' said George--Edith was his wife.

'You don't mean to say you're going, with all the Blackstable people

there?'

'Well, Edith says we ought to go, just to show them we don't care.'

'Well, I shall come too!' cried Mrs Griffith.

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