Red Rose and Tiger Lily Part 20

was the address on the sheet of paper.

Annie had never in the course of her life come in contact with a live p.a.w.nbroker, but she had a vague idea that p.a.w.nbrokers were of the male species, and that they invariably had three gilt b.a.l.l.s over their establishments.

She was relieved rather than otherwise to find that this p.a.w.nbroker was of the female s.e.x, and fancied that it would be easier to deal with her on this account. A policeman directed her to Eden Street, which was a thoroughly respectable broad thoroughfare off the High Street.

Annie walked quickly until she came to number thirty. Then, raising her eyes and seeing Mrs. Myrtle's name over the door, she boldly entered.

The shop was the sort that ladies delight in. One side of it was entirely devoted to the best cla.s.s of haberdashery, the other was extremely attractive with coloured wools and silks, and all sorts of materials for crewel and other fancy works. A thin, pale girl, of about sixteen, was attending to the haberdashery department, and a little old lady, with pink cheeks, bright dark eyes and white hair, was busily serving several customers at the fancy goods side.

Annie had to wait until these customers had completed their business.

The girl who had charge of the haberdashery asked if she could serve her.

"I wish to speak to Mrs. Myrtle," replied Annie in a decided tone. The little woman raised her head at hearing her own name p.r.o.nounced, and said in a respectful voice--

"I'll be at leisure to serve you in a moment, miss."

"She seems very nice," said Annie to herself; "she has a decidedly kind face. What can there be objectionable in p.a.w.nbrokers, if she is one?

Perhaps I'd better call her aunt; she'll be sure to like it."

In a couple of moments Mrs. Myrtle was at leisure, and Annie went up to the counter. Now that the critical instant had come, she felt her heart beating quickly, and knew that her cheeks were pale. Annie could look wonderfully pathetic when any emotion stirred her. She had a voice full of vibrations, and her eyes could a.s.sume the dumb pleading expression of a dog's.

"I want to speak to you about a very private matter," she said, looking full at Mrs. Myrtle.

The little woman could not help giving her a glance of great surprise.

What could such a pretty, nicely-dressed young lady want with her; then suddenly it flashed through her mind that Annie must want to buy a present; perhaps the present was for her sweetheart; if so, the state of affairs was perfectly natural.

"Yes, miss," she said, in a cordial voice of sympathy, "but Netty, my niece, is a bit deaf and won't hear a word you're saying. I have got some really nice things, miss, and quite suitable; tobacco pouches made of different coloured plushes, and flowers traced very beautifully on them; you could work the pouch yourself, miss, and it would look most suitable; then I've got braces, too; they're quite the newest thing, and can be embroidered with any colour, and cases for gentlemen's evening ties, they really are very new; shall I show you some, miss?"

"Oh, no, thank you," said Annie in a choking voice. "I'm in an awful hurry and I don't want to buy any present for a gentleman; I don't know any gentleman except my father well enough to think of giving presents to. No, no, I don't want to buy anything, but I want--I want you to give me something, aunt."

Mrs. Myrtle looked at Annie as if she were now quite sure that the poor pretty young lady was not quite right in her head. She did not speak at all, but waited for Annie to continue.

"You're a female p.a.w.nbroker, are you not?" said Annie.

"A female what, my dear?" said Mrs. Myrtle, her face growing crimson.

This was really the last straw. "I don't understand you, miss," she said in a stiff tone. "I have nothing whatever to do with the trade you indicate."

Just then some ladies, very good customers, entered the shop.

"You'll excuse me for a moment, miss," said Mrs. Myrtle; "but if you don't want to buy, I shall be obliged to leave you to attend to my customers. Good morning, Lady Dalgetty; what can I show your ladys.h.i.+p?"

Poor Annie found herself pushed into a corner. Lady Dalgetty and her suite occupied all Mrs. Myrtle's attention. Even the humble-looking Netty was busy serving out spools of cotton, needles, and pins to a prim-looking lady. Neither of the women in the shop had a moment to attend to Annie's sore need.

She began to think that Mrs. Myrtle was not so kind as she looked, and to understand a little of nurse's repugnance to the p.a.w.nbroker cla.s.s.

"They must be low people," she murmured to herself; "for this woman won't even own to the fact that she is a p.a.w.nbroker."

The shop became empty once more; and Mrs. Myrtle, who was really quite as kind hearted as she looked, raised her eyes, and encountered a very forlorn glance from Annie.

"Poor, pretty young lady," she said to herself. "She's gone in the head without any manner of doubt, calling me aunt, and asking me if I'm a female p.a.w.nbroker; but I'd best humour her a bit, and try to find out who she belongs to."

Accordingly Mrs. Myrtle called Annie back to the counter in a kind voice.

"I can attend to you now, miss," she said; "but if you have anything to say, perhaps you'll say it quickly, for this is market day, and heaps of farmer's wives come in for no end of small matters."

"Do they p.a.w.n rings, and then take them out by degrees in instalments?"

asked poor Annie in an eager voice.

"Poor, poor young lady, she's very, very bad," murmured Mrs. Myrtle to herself.

"I couldn't say for positive, miss," she replied, "that a farmer's wife has never p.a.w.ned a ring; but if they are reduced to such straits, I know nothing about it."

"Then you are not a p.a.w.nbroker yourself?"

"I am _not_, miss. Wouldn't you like to come into my parlour and rest a bit if you're tired, and maybe you'll tell me your name?"

"She's getting quite kind again," thought Annie. "Of course she is a p.a.w.nbroker, but she doesn't like to own it; it evidently is a very disgraceful calling."

"My name is Annie Forest," she said; "and I'm not at all tired, thank you, aunt. You don't mind me calling you aunt, do you? for we always call the men in your trade uncles."

"I hope heaven will preserve my patience," muttered poor Mrs. Myrtle.

"I must get this young lady to her friends whatever happens. Netty!"

"Oh, don't call Netty here," exclaimed Annie. "Now, look here, do you see this piece of blue paper?"

"Yes, miss. It's my address, sure and certain."

"Do you know the handwriting?"

"Well, I can't say that I do; it seems a sort of an ordinary hand, don't it, miss?"

"Is Mrs. Martin, who lives at the Grange, a friend of yours?" asked Annie suddenly.

Mrs. Myrtle's face glowed all over with pleased relief.

"Mrs. Martin of the Grange," she exclaimed, "old nurse to Miss Hester and Miss Nan Thornton? I should rather think she is a friend of mine. I have known her ever since we went to school together, and that's many a year ago."

"Oh, how glad I am," exclaimed Annie; "then I am sure, quite sure, you will be kind to me. You will do what I ask for the sake of your friend Mrs. Martin. You won't mind just confiding to me that you are a p.a.w.nbroker? I promise most faithfully not to call you aunt if you really dislike it."

"I'm afraid I don't understand you, Miss Forest. I am _not_ a p.a.w.nbroker; not one of my belongings would own to such a trade; and if Patty Martin gave you to understand that I am, I'll quarrel with her, late as it is in the day."

"But she p.a.w.ned a ring to you," said Annie; "an old-fas.h.i.+oned gold ring with one big diamond in the middle. You lent her thirty s.h.i.+llings on it, and the interest is two s.h.i.+llings. That ring is mine. She did p.a.w.n a ring to you, did she not?"

A light at last broke over Mrs. Myrtle's face.

"Well, well," she exclaimed; "I begin to see what you're driving at.

Won't I have a crow to pick with Patty Martin for this. No, no, miss, she p.a.w.ned no ring to me; but she gave me a diamond ring to keep for her early one morning about three weeks ago. 'And keep it safe until I ask for it, Martha Myrtle,' said she; and safe I will keep it until then, Miss Annie Forest."

"But it's my ring," said Annie in great distress. "You'll give it back to me now when I ask for it?"