Perchawnce if we ad never met, We ad been spared this mad regret, This hendless striving to forgetFor heverhandfor he-e-e-ver!
Mrs. Murch let her head droop sentimentally. Horace glanced at Fanny, who, however, seemed absorbed in reflections as unsentimental as could be.
In the meanwhile, on a garden seat under the calm but misty sky, sat Luckworth Crewe and Beatrice French. Crewe smoked a cigar placidly; Beatrice was laying before him the suggestion of her great commercial scheme, already confided to Fanny.
How does it strike you? she asked at length.
Not bad, old chap. Theres something in it, if youre clever enough to carry it through. And I shouldnt wonder if you are. Will you help to set it going?
Cant help with money, Crewe replied.
Very well; will you help in other ways? Practical hints, and so on?
Of course I will. Always ready to encourage merit in the money-making line. What capital are you prepared to put into it?
Not much. The public must supply the capital.
A sound principle, Crewe laughed. But I shouldnt go on the old lines. You didnt think of starting a limited company? Youd find difficulties. Now what you want to start is alet us call it the South London Dress Supply Association, or something of that kind. But you wont get to that all at once. You ought to have premises to begin with.
Im aware of it.
Can you raise a thousand or so?
Yes, I couldif I chose.
Now, look here. Your notion of the Fashion Club is a deuced good one, and I dont see why it shouldnt be pretty easily started. Out of every five hundred women, you can reckon on four hundred and ninety-nine being fools; and there isnt a female fool who wouldnt read and think about a circular which promised her fashionable dresses for an unfashionable price. Thats a great and sound basis to start on. What I advise is, that you should first of all advertise for a dress-making concern that would admit a partner with a small capital. Youll have between ten and twelve hundred replies, but dont be staggered; go through them carefully, and select a shop thats well situated, and doing a respectable trade. Get hold of these people, and induce them to make changes in their business to suit your idea. Then blaze away with circulars, headed South London Fashion Club; send them round the whole district, addressed to women. Every idiot of them will, at all events, come and look at the shop; that can be depended upon; in itself no bad advertisement. Arrange to have a special departmentspecial entrance, if possiblewith The Club painted up. Yes, by jingo! Have a big room, with comfortable chairs, and the womens weekly papers lying about, and smart dresses displayed on what-dye-call-ems, like they have in windows. Make the subscription very low at first, and give rattling good value; never mind if you lose by it. Then, when youve got hold of a lot of likely people, try them with the share project. By-the-bye, if you lose no time, you can bring in the Jubilee somehow. Yes, start with the Jubilee Fashion Club. I wonder nobodys done it already.
Beatrice was growing elated.
The public has to wait for its benefactors, she replied.
Ill tell you what, would you like me to sketch you out a prospectus of the Club?
Yes, you might do that if you like. You wont expect to be paid?
Hang it! what do you take me for?
Business is business, Miss. French remarked coldly.
So it is. And friendship is friendship. Got a match? He laughed. No, I suppose you havent.
Ill go and get you one if you like.
Theres a good fellow. Ill think in the meantime.
Beatrice rose lazily, and was absent for several minutes. When she returned, Crewe re-lit his cigar.
Why shouldnt I start the shop on my own account? Beatrice asked.
You havent capital enough. A little place wouldnt do.
I think I can get Fanny to join me.
Can you? What will young Lord have to say to that?
Psh! Thats all fooling. Itll never come to anything. Unless, of course, the old man turned up his toes, and left the boy a tidy sum. But he wont just yet. Ive told Fanny that if shell raise something on her houses, Ill guarantee her the same income she has now.
Take my advice, said Crewe weightily, and hook on to an established business. Of course, you can change the name if you like; and thered have to be alterations, and painting up, to give a new look.
Its risky, dealing with strangers. How if they got hold of my idea, and then refused to take me in?
Well now, look here. After all, Ill make a bargain with you, old chap. If I can introduce you to the right people, and get you safely started, will you give me all your advertising, on the usual commission?
You mean, give it to Bullock and Freeman?
No, I dont. Its a secret just yet, but Im going to start for myself.
Beatrice was silent. They exchanged a look in the gloom, and Crewe nodded, in confirmation of his announcement.
How much have you got? Miss. French inquired carelessly.
Not much. Most of the capital is here. He touched his forehead. Same as with you.
The young woman glanced at him again, and said in a lower voice:
Youd have had more by now, if
Crewe waited, puffing his cigar, but she did not finish.
Maybe, he replied impartially. Maybe not.
Dont think Im sorry, Beatrice hastened to add. It was an idea, like any other.
Not half a bad idea. But there were obstacles.
After a pause, Beatrice inquired:
Do you still think the same about women with money?
Just the same, Crewe replied at once, though with less than his usual directness; the question seemed to make him meditative. Just the same. Every man looks at it in his own way, of course. Im not the sort of chap to knuckle under to my wife; and there isnt one woman in a thousand, if she gave her husband a start, could help reminding him of it. Its the wrong way about. Let women be as independent as they like as long as theyre not married. I never think the worse of them, whatever they do thats honest. But a wife must play second fiddle, and think her husband a small god almightythats my way of looking at the question.
Beatrice laughed scornfully.
All right. We shall see.When do you start business?
This side Christmas. End of September, perhaps.
You think to snatch a good deal from B. & F., I daresay?
Crewe nodded and smiled.
Then youll look after this affair for me? said Beatrice, with a return to the tone of strict business.
Without loss of time. You shall be advised of progress. Of course I must debit you with exes.
All right. Mind you charge for all the penny stamps.
Every onedont you forget it.
He stood up, tilted forward on his toes, and stretched himself.
Ill be trotting homewards. Itll be time for by-by when I get to Kennington.
CHAPTER 3
Nancy was undisturbed by the promotion of Mary Woodruff. A short time ago it would have offended her; she would have thought her dignity, her social prospects, imperilled. She was now careless on that score, and felt it a relief to cast off the show of domestic authority. Henceforth her position would be like that of Horace. All she now desired was perfect freedom from responsibility,to be, as it were, a mere lodger in the house, to come and go unquestioned and unrestrained by duties.
Thus, by aid of circumstance, had she put herself into complete accord with the spirit of her time. Abundant privilege; no obligation. A reference of all things to her sovereign will and pleasure. Withal, a defiant rather than a hopeful mood; resentment of the undisguisable fact that her will was sovereign only in a poor little sphere which she would gladly have transcended.
Now-a-days she never went in the direction of Champion Hill, formerly her favourite walk. If Jessica Morgan spoke of her acquaintances there, she turned abruptly to another subject. She thought of the place as an abode of arrogance and snobbery. She recalled with malicious satisfaction her ill-mannered remark to Lionel Tarrant. Let him think of her as he would; at all events he could no longer imagine her overawed by his social prestige. The probability was that she had hurt him in a sensitive spot; it might be hoped that the wound would rankle for a long time.
Her personal demeanour showed a change. So careful hitherto of feminine grace and decorum, she began to affect a mannishness of bearing, a bluntness of speech, such as found favour at De Crespigny Park. In a few weeks she had resumed friendly intercourse with Mrs. Peachey and her sisters, and spent an occasional evening at their house. Her father asked no questions; she rarely saw him except at meals. A stranger must have observed the signs of progressive malady in Mr. Lords face, but Nancy was aware of nothing to cause uneasiness; she thought of him as suffering a little from gout; elderly people were of course subject to such disorders. On most days he went to business; if he remained at home, Mary attended him assiduously, and he would accept no other ministration.
Nancy was no longer inclined to study, and cared little for reading of any sort. That new book on Evolution, which she had brought from the library just before Jubilee Day, was still lying about; a dozen times she had looked at it with impatience, and reminded herself that it must be returned. Evolution! She already knew all about Darwinism, all she needed to know. If necessary she could talk about itoh, with an air. But who wanted to talk about such things? After all, only priggish people,the kind of people who lived at Champion Hill. Or idiots like Samuel Bennett Barmby, who bothered about the future of the world. What was it to herthe future of the world? She wanted to live in the present, to enjoy her youth. An evening like that she had spent in the huge crowd, with a man like Crewe to amuse her with his talk, was worth whole oceans of culture.
Culture she already possessed, abundance of it. The heap of books she had read! Last winter she had attended a course of lectures, delivered by a young University gentleman with a tone of bland omniscience, on The History of Hellenic Civilisation; her written answers to the little test papers had been marked very satisfactory. Was it not a proof of culture achieved? Education must not encroach upon the years of maturity. Nature marked the time when a woman should begin to live.
There was poor Jessica. As July drew on, Jessica began to look cadaverous, ghostly. She would assuredly break down long before the time of her examination. What a wretched, what an absurd existence! Her home, too, was so miserable. Mrs. Morgan lay ill, unable to attend to anything; if she could not have a change of air, it must soon be all over with her. But they had no money, no chance of going to the seaside.
It happened at length that Mr. Lord saw Jessica one evening, when she had come to spend an hour in Grove Lane. After her departure, he asked Nancy what was the matter with the girl, and Nancy explained the situation.
Well, why not take her with you, when you go away?
I didnt know that I was going away, father. Nothing has been said of it.
Its your own business. I leave you to make what plans you like.
Nancy reflected.
You ought to have a change, she said considerately. It would do you good. Suppose we all go to Teignmouth? I should think that would suit you.
Why Teignmouth?
I enjoyed it last year. And the lodgings were comfortable. We could have the same, from the first week in August.
How do you know?
I wrote the other day, and asked, Nancy replied with a smile.
But Mr. Lord declined to leave home. Mary Woodruff did her best to persuade him, until he angrily imposed silence. In a day or two he said to Nancy:
If you wish to go to Teignmouth, take Jessica and her mother. People mustnt die for want of a five-pound note. Make your arrangements, and let me know what money youll need.
Its very kind of you, father.
Mr. Lord turned away. His daughter noticed that he walked feebly, and she felt a moments compunction.
Fatheryou are not so well to-day.
Without looking round, he replied that he would be well enough if left alone; and Nancy did not venture to say more.
A few days later, she called in De Crespigny Park after dinnertime. Mrs. Peachey and Fanny were at Brighton; Beatrice had preferred to stay in London, being very busy with her great project. Whilst she talked of it with Nancy, Peachey and Luckworth Crewe came in together. There was sprightly conversation, in which the host, obviously glad of his wifes absence, took a moderate part. Presently, Miss. Lord and he found themselves gossiping alone; the other two had moved aside, and, as a look informed Nancy, were deep in confidential dialogue.
What do you think of that business? she asked her companion in an undertone.
I shouldnt wonder if it answers, said the young man, speaking as usual, with a soft, amiable voice. Our friend is helping, and he generally knows what hes about.
Crewe remained only for half-an-hour; on shaking hands with him, Nancy made known that she was going to the seaside next Monday for a few weeks, and the man of business answered only with I hope youll enjoy yourself. Soon afterwards, she took leave. At the junction of De Crespigny Park and Grove Lane, some one approached her, and with no great surprise Nancy saw that it was Crewe.
Been waiting for you, he said. You remember you promised me another walk.
Oh, its much too late.
Of course it is. I didnt mean now. But to-morrow.
Impossible. She moved on, in the direction away from her home. I shall be with friends in the evening, the Morgans.
Confound it! I had made up my mind to ask you for last Saturday, but some country people nabbed me for the whole of that day. I took them up the Monument, and up St Pauls.
Ive never been up the Monument, said Nancy.
Never? Come to-morrow afternoon then. You can spare the afternoon. Lets meet early somewhere. Take a bus to London Bridge. Ill be at the north end of London Bridge at three oclock.
All right; Ill be there, Nancy replied off-hand.
You really will? Three, sharp. I was never late at an appointment, business or pleasure.
Which do you consider this? asked his companion, with a shrewd glance.
Now thats unkind. I came here to-night on business, though. You quite understand that, didnt you? I shouldnt like you to make any mistake. Business, pure and simple.
Why, of course, replied Nancy, with an ingenuous air. What else could it be? And she added, Dont come any further. Ta-ta!
Crewe went off into the darkness.
The next afternoon, Nancy alighted at London Bridge a full quarter of an hour late. It had been raining at intervals through the day, and clouds still cast a gloom over the wet streets. Crewe, quite insensible to atmospheric influence, came forward with his wonted brisk step and animated visage. At Miss. Lords side he looked rather more plebeian than when walking by himself; his high-hat, not of the newest, utterly misbecame his head, and was always at an unconventional angle, generally tilting back; his clothes, of no fashionable cut, bore the traces of perpetual hurry and multifarious impact. But he carried a perfectly new and expensive umbrella, to which, as soon as he had shaken hands with her, he drew Nancys attention.