She was right, after all. He wished to convict her of ignorance. Her cheeks were now burning, beyond a doubt, and she felt revengeful.
I advise you to make inquiries at a shipping-office, was her distant reply.
It seemshe was smiling at NancyI shall have to go to New York, and then take the Cuba mail.
Are you going to join your friend in business?
Business, I fear, is hardly my vocation.
There was a tremor on Nancys lips, and about her eyelids. She said abruptly:
I thought you were perhaps in business?
Did you? What suggested it?
Tarrant looked fixedly at her; in his expression, as in his voice, she detected a slight disdain, and that decided her to the utterance of the next words.
Ohshe had assumed an ingenuous airtheres the Black Lead that bears your name. Havent you something to do with it?
She durst not watch him, but a change of his countenance was distinctly perceptible, and for the moment caused her a keen gratification. His eyes had widened, his lips had set themselves; he looked at once startled and mortified.
Black lead? The words fell slowly, in a voice unlike that she had been hearing. No. I have nothing to do with it.
The silence was dreadful. Nancy endeavoured to rise, but her limbs would not do their office. Then, her eyes fixed on the grass, she became aware that Tarrant himself had stood up.
Where are the children? he was saying absently.
He descried them afar off with Miss. Morgan, and began to saunter in that direction. As soon as his back was turned, Nancy rose and began to walk towards the house. In a few moments Jessica and the girls were with her.
I think we must go, she said.
They entered, and took leave of Mrs. Baker, who sat alone in the drawing-room.
Did you say good-bye to Mr. Tarrant? Jessica asked, as they came forth again.
Yes.
I didnt. But I suppose it doesnt matter.
Nancy had thought of telling her friend what she had done, of boasting that she had asked the impossible question. But now she felt ashamed of herself, and something more than ashamed. Never again could she enter this garden. And it seemed to her that, by a piece of outrageous, of wanton, folly, she had for ever excluded herself from the society of all superior people.
CHAPTER 7
Now, I look at it in this way. Its to celebrate the fiftieth year of the reign of Queen Victoriayes: but at the same time, and far more, its to celebrate the completion of fifty years of Progress. National Progress, without precedent in the history of mankind! One may say, indeed, Progress of the Human Race. Only think what has been done in this half-century: only think of it! Compare England now, compare the world, with what it was in 1837. It takes away ones breath!
Thus Mr. Samuel Bennett Barmby, as he stood swaying forward upon his toes, his boots creaking. Nancy and Jessica listened to him. They were ready to start on the evenings expedition, but Horace had not yet come home, and on the chance of his arrival they would wait a few minutes longer.
I shall make this the subject of a paper for our Society next winterthe Age of Progress. And with special reference to one particularthe Press. Only think now, of the difference between our newspapers, all our periodicals of to-day, and those fifty years ago. Did you ever really consider, Miss. Morgan, what a marvellous thing one of our great newspapers really is? Printed in another way it would make a volumeabsolutely; a positive volume; packed with thought and information. And all for the ridiculous price of one penny!
He laughed; a high, chuckling, crowing laugh; the laugh of triumphant optimism. Of the mans sincerity there could be no question; it beamed from his shining forehead, his pointed nose; glistened in his prominent eyes. He had a tall, lank figure, irreproachably clad in a suit of grey: frock coat, and waistcoat revealing an expanse of white shirt. His cuffs were magnificent, and the hands worthy of them. A stand-up collar, of remarkable stiffness, kept his head at the proper level of self-respect.
By the bye, Miss. Lord, are you aware that the Chinese Empire, with four hundred MILLION inhabitants, has only ten daily papers? Positively; only ten.
How do you know? asked Nancy.
I saw it stated in a paper. That helps one to grasp the difference between civilisation and barbarism. One doesnt think clearly enough of common things. Now thats one of the benefits one gets from Carlyle. Carlyle teaches one to see the marvellous in everyday life. Of course in many things I dont agree with him, but I shall never lose an opportunity of expressing my gratitude to Carlyle. Carlyle and Gurty! Yes, Carlyle and Gurty; those two authors are an education in themselves.
He uttered a long Ah! and moved his lips as if savouring a delicious morsel.
Now heres an interesting thing. If all the cabs in London were put end to end,he paused between the words, gravely,what do you think, Miss. Morgan, would be the total length?
Oh, I have no idea, Mr. Barmby.
Forty milespositively! Forty miles of cabs!
How do you know? asked Nancy.
I saw it stated in a paper.
The girls glanced at each other, and smiled. Barmby beamed upon them with the benevolence of a man who knew his advantages, personal and social.
And at this moment Horace Lord came in. He had not the fresh appearance which usually distinguished him; his face was stained with perspiration, his collar had become limp, the flower at his buttonhole hung faded.
Well, here I am. Are you going?
I suppose you know you have kept us waiting, said his sister.
Awfly sorry. Couldnt get here before.
He spoke as if he had not altogether the command of his tongue, and with a fixed meaningless smile.
We had better not delay, said Barmby, taking up his hat. Seven oclock. We ought to be at Charing Cross before eight; that will allow us about three hours.
They set forth at once. By private agreement between the girls, Jessica Morgan attached herself to Mr. Barmby, allowing Nancy to follow with her brother, as they walked rapidly towards Camberwell Green. Horace kept humming popular airs; his hat had fallen a little to the side, and he swung his cane carelessly. His sister asked him what he had been doing all day.
Oh, going about. I met some fellows after the procession. We had a splendid view, up there on the top of Waterloo House.
Did Fanny go home?
We met her sisters, and had some lunch at a restaurant. Look here; you dont want me to-night. You wont mind if I get lost in the crowd? Barmby will be quite enough to take care of you.
You are going to meet her again, I suppose?
Horace nodded.
We had better agree on a rendezvous at a certain time. I say, Barmby, just a moment; if any of us should get separated, we had better know where to meet, for coming home.
Oh, theres no fear of that.
All the same, it might happen. Therell be a tremendous crush, you know. Suppose we say the place where the trams stop, south of Westminster Bridge, and the time a quarter to eleven?
This was agreed upon.
At Camberwell Green they mingled with a confused rush of hilarious crowds, amid a clattering of cabs and omnibuses, a jingling of tram-car bells. Public-houses sent forth their alcoholic odours upon the hot air. Samuel Barmby, joyous in his protectorship of two young ladies, for he regarded Horace as a mere boy, bustled about them whilst they stood waiting for the arrival of the Westminster car.
Itll have to be a gallant rush! You would rather be outside, wouldnt you, Miss. Lord? Here it comes: charge!
But the charge was ineffectual for their purpose. A throng of far more resolute and more sinewy people swept them aside, and seized every vacant place on the top of the vehicle. Only with much struggle did they obtain places within. In an ordinary mood, Nancy would have resented this hustling of her person by the profane public; as it was, she half enjoyed the tumult, and looked forward to get more of it along the packed streets, with a sense that she might as well amuse herself in vulgar ways, since nothing better was attainable. This did not, however, modify her contempt of Samuel Barmby; it seemed never to have occurred to him that the rough-and-tumble might be avoided, and time gained, by the simple expedient of taking a cab.
Sitting opposite to Samuel, she avoided his persistent glances by reading the rows of advertisements above his head. Somebodys Blue; somebodys Soap; somebodys High-class Jams; and behold, inserted between the Soap and the JamGod so loved the world, that He gave His only-begotten Son, that whoso believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life. Nancy perused the passage without perception of incongruity, without emotion of any kind. Her religion had long since fallen to pieces, and universal defilement of Scriptural phrase by the associations of the market-place had in this respect blunted her sensibilities.
Barmby was talking to Jessica Morgan. She caught his words now and then.
Can you tell me what is the smallest tree in the world?No, its the Greenland birch. Its full-grown height is only three inchespositively! But it spreads over several feet.
Nancy was tempted to lean forward and say, How do you know? But the jest seemed to involve her in too much familiarity with Mr Barmby; for her own peace it was better to treat him with all possible coldness.
A woman near her talked loudly about the procession, with special reference to a personage whom she called Prince of Wiles. This enthusiast declared with pride that she had stood at a certain street corner for seven hours, accompanied by a child of five years old, the same who now sat on her lap, nodding in utter weariness; together they were going to see the illuminations, and walk about, with intervals devoted to refreshments, for several hours more. Beyond sat a working-man, overtaken with liquor, who railed vehemently at the Jubilee, and in no measured terms gave his opinion of our Sovereign Lady; the whole thing was a lay, an occasion for filling the Royal pocket, and it had succeeded to the tune of something like half a million of money, wheedled, most of it, from the imbecile poor. Shut up! roared a loyalist, whose patience could endure no longer. Were not going to let a boozing blackguard like you talk in that way about er Majesty! Thereupon, retort of insult, challenge to combat, clamour from many throats, deep and shrill. Nancy laughed, and would rather have enjoyed it if the men had fought.
At Westminster Bridge all jumped confusedly into the street and ran for the pavement. It was still broad daylight; the suna potentate who keeps no Jubileedropping westward amid the hues of summer eventide, was unmarked, for all his splendour, by the roaring multitudes.
Where are you going to leave us? Nancy inquired of her brother.
Charing Cross, or somewhere about there.
Keep by me till then.
Barmby was endeavouring to secure her companionship. He began to cross the bridge at her side, but Nancy turned and bade him attend upon Miss. Morgan, saying that she wished to talk with her brother. In this order they moved towards Parliament Street, where the crowd began to thicken.
Now let us decide upon our route, exclaimed Barmby, with the air of a popular leader planning a great demonstration. Miss. Lord, we will be directed by your wishes. Where would you like to be when the lighting-up begins?
I dont care. What does it matter? Let us go straight on and see whatever comes in our way.
Thats the right spirit! Let us give ourselves up to the occasion! We cant be wrong in making for Trafalgar Square. Advance!
They followed upon a group of reeling lads and girls, who yelled in chorus the popular song of the day, a sentimental one as it happened
Do not forget me, Do not forget me, Think sometimes of me still
Nancy was working herself into a nervous, excited state. She felt it impossible to walk on and on under Barmbys protection, listening to his atrocious commonplaces, his enthusiasms of the Young Mens Debating Society. The glow of midsummer had entered into her blood; she resolved to taste independence, to mingle with the limitless crowd as one of its units, borne in whatever direction. That song of the streets pleased her, made sympathetic appeal to her; she would have liked to join in it.
Just behind herit was on the broad pavement at Whitehallsome one spoke her name.
Miss. Lord! Why, who would have expected to see you here? Shouldnt have dared to think of such a thing; upon my word, I shouldnt!
A man of about thirty, dressed without much care, middle-sized, wiry, ruddy of cheek, and his coarse but strong features vivid with festive energy, held a hand to her. Luckworth Crewe was his name. Nancy had come to know him at the house of Mrs. Peachey, where from time to time she had met various people unrecognised in her own home. His tongue bewrayed him for a native of some northern county; his manner had no polish, but a genuine heartiness which would have atoned for many defects. Horace, who also knew him, offered a friendly greeting; but Samuel Barmby, when the voice caught his ear, regarded this intruder with cold surprise.
May I walk on with you? Crewe asked, when he saw that Miss. Lord felt no distaste for his company.
Nancy deigned not even a glance at her nominal protector.
If you are going our way, she replied.
Barmby, his dignity unobserved, strode on with Miss. Morgan, of whom he sought information concerning the loud-voiced man. Crewe talked away.
So youve come out to have a look at it, after all. I saw the Miss Frenches last Sunday, and they told me you cared no more for the Jubilee than for a dog-fight. Of course I wasnt surprised; youve other things to think about. But its worth seeing, thats my opinion. Were you out this morning?
No. I dont care for Royalties.
No more do I. Expensive humbugs, thats what I call em. But I had a look at them, for all that. The Crown Prince was worth seeing; yes, he really was. Im not so prejudiced as to deny that. Hes the kind of chap I should like to get hold of, and have a bit of a talk with, and ask him what he thought about things in general. Its been a big affair, hasnt it? I know a chap who made a Jubilee Perfume, and hes netting something like a hundred pounds a day.
Have you any Jubilee speculation on hand?
Dont ask me! It makes me mad. I had a really big thing,a Jubilee Drink,a teetotal beverage; the kind of thing that would have sold itself, this weather. A friend of mine hit on it, a clerk in a City warehouse, one of the cleverest chaps I ever knew. It really was the drink; Ive never tasted anything like it. Why, theres the biggest fortune on record waiting for the man who can supply the drink for total-abstainers. And this friend of mine had it. He gave me some to taste one night, about a month ago, and I roared with delight. It was all arranged. I undertook to find enough capital to start with, and to manage the concern. I would have given up my work with Bullock and Freeman. Id have gone in, tooth and nail, for that drink! I sat up all one night trying to find a name for it; but couldnt hit on the right one. A name is just as important as the stuff itself that you want to sell. Next morningit was SundayI went round to my friends lodgings, andhe slapped his thighIm blest if the chap hadnt cut his throat!