Sparrows Part 102

"Curiosity," replied Mavis.

Then Miss Toombs told Mavis the rest of the Melkbridge news. She learned how Mr and Mrs Trivett had given up Pennington Farm and were now living in Melkbridge, where Miss Toombs had heard that they had a hard struggle to get along. Miss Toombs mentioned several other names well known to Mavis; but she did not speak of Charlie Perigal.

It was a long time before Mavis slept that night. She had long and earnestly thanked her Heavenly Father for having sent kindly Miss Toombs to help her in her distress. She then lay awake for quite a long while, wondering why Miss Toombs had been against her going to Melkbridge. Vague, intangible fears hovered about her, which were a.s.sociated with her lover and his many promises to marry her. He also was at Melkbridge. Mavis tried to persuade herself that Miss Toombs's objection to her going to the same place could have nothing in common with the fact of her lover's presence there.

The next morning, while the two friends were breakfasting, Mavis again spoke of the matter.

"I can't make out why you were so against my going to Melkbridge," she said.

"Have you been worrying about it?" asked Miss Toombs.

"Yes. Is there any reason why I shouldn't go back?"

"You great big silly! The reason why I didn't want you to go there is because I might get you a better job in town."

"But you told me last night you were friendless. Friendless girls can't get others work in town. So don't try and get over me by saying that."

Miss Toombs explained how the manager of a London house, which had extensive dealings with Devitt's boot factory, was indebted to her for certain crooked business ways that she had made straight. She told Mavis that she had gone to see this man on Mr Devitt's behalf since she had been in town, and that he was anxious to keep in her good books.

She thought that a word from her would get Mavis employment.

Mavis thanked her friend; she made no further mention of the matter which occasionally disturbed her peace of mind.

For all her friend's kindly offer, she longed to tread the familiar ways of the country town which was so intimately a.s.sociated with the chief event of her life.

During the five unexpired days of Miss Toombs's holiday, the two women were rarely apart. Of a morning they would take the baby to the grounds of Chelsea Hospital, which, save for the presence of the few who were familiar with its quietude, they had to themselves. Once or twice, they took a 'bus to the further side of the river, when they would sit in a remote corner of Battersea Park. They also went to Kew Gardens and Richmond Park. Mavis had not, for many long weeks, known such happiness as that furnished by Miss Toombs's society. Her broad views of life diminished Mavis's concern at the fact of her being a mother without being a wife.

The time came when Mavis set out for Paddington (she left the baby behind in charge of Jill), in order to see her friend go by the afternoon train to Melkbridge. Mavis was silent. She wished that she were journeying over the hundred miles which lay between where she stood and her lover. Miss Toombs was strangely cheerful: to such an extent, that Mavis wondered if her friend guessed the secret of her lover's ident.i.ty, and, divining her heart's longings, was endeavouring to distract her thoughts from their probable preoccupation. Mavis thanked her friend again and again for all she had done for her. Miss Toombs had that morning received a letter from her London boot acquaintance in reply to one she had written concerning Mavis. This letter had told Miss Toombs that her friend should fill the first vacancy that might occur. Upon the strength of this promise, Miss Toombs had prevailed on Mavis to accept five pounds from her; but Mavis had only taken it upon the understanding that the money was a loan.

While they were talking outside Miss Toombs's third cla.s.s compartment, Mavis saw Montague Devitt pa.s.s on his way to a first, followed by two porters, who were staggering beneath the weight of a variety of parcels. Mavis hoped that he would not see her; but the fates willed otherwise. One of the porters dropped a package, which fell with a resounding thwack at Mavis's feet. Devitt turned, to see Mavis.

"Miss Keeves!" he said, raising his hat.

Mavis bowed.

"May I speak to you a moment?" he asked, after glancing at Miss Toombs, and furtively lifting his hat to this person.

Mavis joined him.

"What has become of you all this time?"

"I've been working in London."

"I've often thought of you. What are you doing now?"

"I'm looking for something to do."

"I suppose you'd never care to come back and work for me in Melkbridge?"

"Nothing I should like better," remarked Mavis, as her heart leapt.

They talked for two or three minutes longer, when, the train being on the point of starting, Devitt said:

"Send me your address and I'll see you have your old work again."

Mavis thanked him.

"Just met Miss Toombs?" he asked.

"She's been staying with me. Thank you so much."

Mavis hurried from the man's carriage to that containing her friend, who was standing anxiously by the window.

"It's all right!" cried Mavis excitedly.

"What's all right, dear?" cried Miss Toombs as the train began to move.

"I'm coming to work at Melkbridge. It's au revoir, dear!"

Mavis was astonished, and not a little disquieted, to see the expression of concern which came over her friend's disappearing face at this announcement.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

AN OLD FRIEND

Four days later, Mavis spent the late afternoon with her baby and Jill in the grounds of Chelsea Hospital. She then took a 'bus to Ebury Bridge (Jill running behind), to get out here and walk to her lodging.

As she went up Halverton Street, she noticed, in the failing light, a tall, soldierly looking man standing on the other side of the road. But the presence of men of military bearing, even in Halverton Street, was not sufficiently infrequent to call for remark. Mavis opened her door with the key and went to her room. Here, she fed her baby and ate something herself. When her boy fell asleep, Mavis left him in charge of Jill and went out to do some shopping. She had not gone far when she heard footsteps behind her, as if seeking to overtake her. Mavis, who was well used to being accosted by night prowlers, quickened her steps, but to no purpose: a moment or two later, someone touched her arm. She turned angrily, to see Windebank beside her. Her expression relaxed, to become very hard.

"Don't you know me?" he asked huskily.

She stopped, but did not reply. She recalled the man she had seen standing on the other side of the road, and whom she now believed to have been Windebank. If it were he, and he had been waiting to see her, he had undoubtedly seen her baby. Rage, self-pity at the realisation of her helplessness, defiance, desire to protect the good name of the loved one, filled her being. She walked for some moments in silence, he following.

"Are you very angry?" he asked.

"Yes."

"I'm sorry."

The deep note of sincerity in his voice might have arrested her wrath.

If anything, his emotion stimulated her anger.

"Why do, you take pleasure in spying on me?" she cried. "I always knew you were a beast."

"Eh! Oh, rot!" he replied.

"Why can't you leave me alone? You would if you knew how I hated you."