Miss Mackenzie Part 48

"You will be more comfortable down here with me, won't you, my dear, than up there, with not a creature to speak to?"

In this way Mrs Protheroe made her apology for giving Miss Mackenzie her tea downstairs, in a little back parlour behind the kitchen. It was a tidy room, with two wooden armchairs, and a bit of carpet over the flags in the centre, and a rug before the fire. Margaret did not inquire why it smelt of tobacco, nor did Mrs Protheroe think it necessary to give any explanation why she went up herself at half-past seven to answer the bell at the area; nor did she say anything then of the office messenger from Somerset House, who often found this little room convenient for his evening pipe. So was pa.s.sed the first evening after our Griselda had left the Cedars.

The next day she sat at home doing nothing,--still talking to Hannah Protheroe, and thinking that perhaps John Ball might come. But he did not come. She dined downstairs, at one o'clock, in the same room behind the kitchen, and then she had tea at six. But as Hannah intimated that perhaps a gentleman friend would look in during the evening, she was obliged to betake herself, after tea, to the solitude of her own room. As Hannah was between fifty and sixty, and nearer the latter age than the former, there could be no objection to her receiving what visitors she pleased. The third day pa.s.sed with Miss Mackenzie the same as the second, and still no cousin came to see her. The next day, being Sunday, she diversified by going to church three times; but on the Sunday she was forced to dine alone, as the gentleman friend usually came in on that day to eat his bit of mutton with his friend, Mrs Protheroe.

"A most respectable man, in the Admiralty branch, Miss Margaret, and will have a pension of twenty-seven s.h.i.+llings and sixpence a week in a year or two. And it is so lonely by oneself, you know."

Then Miss Mackenzie knew that Hannah Protheroe intended to become Hannah Buggins, and she understood the whole mystery of the tobacco smoke.

On the Monday she went to the house in Gower Street, and communicated to them the fact that she had left the Cedars. Miss Colza was in the room with her sister-in-law and nieces, and as it was soon evident that Miss Colza knew the whole history of her misfortune with reference to the property, she talked about her affairs before Miss Colza as though that young lady had been one of her late brother's family. But yet she felt that she did not like Miss Colza, and once or twice felt almost inclined to resent certain pus.h.i.+ng questions which Miss Colza addressed to her.

"And have you quarrelled with all the Ball family?" the young lady asked, putting great emphasis on the word all.

"I did not say that I had quarrelled with any of them," said Miss Mackenzie.

"Oh! I beg pardon. I thought as you came away so sudden like, and as you didn't see any of them since, you know--"

"It is a matter of no importance whatever," said Miss Mackenzie.

"No: none in the least," said Miss Colza. And in this way they made up their minds to hate each other.

But what did the woman mean by talking in this way of all the b.a.l.l.s, as though a quarrel with one of the family was a thing of more importance than a quarrel with any of the others? Could she know, or could she even guess, anything of John Ball and of the offer he had made? But this mystery was soon cleared up in Margaret's mind, when, at Mrs Mackenzie's request, they two went upstairs into that lady's bedroom for a little private conversation.

The conversation was desired for purposes appertaining solely to the convenience of the widow. She wanted some money, and then, with tears in her eyes, she demanded to know what was to be done. Miss Colza paid her eighteen s.h.i.+llings a week for board and lodging, and that was now two weeks in arrear; and one bedroom was let to a young man employed in the oilcloth factory, at seven s.h.i.+llings a week.

"And the rent is ninety pounds, and the taxes twenty-two," said Mrs Mackenzie, with her handkerchief up to her eyes; "and there's the taxman come now for seven pound ten, and where I'm to get it, unless I coined my blood, I don't know."

Margaret gave her two sovereigns which she had in her purse, and promised to send her a cheque for the amount of the taxes due.

Then she told as much as she could tell of that proposal as to the interest of the money due from the firm in the New Road.

"If it could only be made certain," said the widow, who had fallen much from her high ideas since Margaret had last seen her. Things were greatly changed in that house since the day on which the dinner, a la Russe, had been given under the auspices of Mr Grandairs. "If it can only be made certain. They still keep his name up in the firm.

There it is as plain as life over the place of business"--she would not even yet call it a shop--"Rubb and Mackenzie; and yet they won't let me know anything as to how matters are going on. I went there the other day, and they would tell me nothing. And as for Samuel Rubb, he hasn't been here this last fortnight, and I've got no one to see me righted. If you were to ask Mr Slow, wouldn't he be able to see me righted?"

Margaret declared that she hardly knew whether that would come within Mr Slow's line of business, and that she did not feel herself competent to give advice on such a point as that. She then explained, as best she could, that her own affairs were not as yet settled, but that she was led to hope, from what had been said to her, that the interest due by the firm on the money borrowed might become a fixed annual income for Mrs Mackenzie's benefit.

After that it came out that Mr Maguire had again been in Gower Street.

"And he was alone, for the best part of half an hour, with that young woman downstairs," said Mrs Mackenzie.

"And you saw him?" Margaret asked.

"Oh, yes; I saw him afterwards."

"And what did he say?"

"He didn't say much to me. Only he gave me to understand--at least, that is what I suppose he meant--that you and he-- He meant to say, that you and he had been courting, I suppose."

Then Margaret understood why Miss Colza had desired to know whether she had quarrelled with all the b.a.l.l.s. In her open and somewhat indignant speech in the drawing-room at the Cedars, she had declared before Mr Maguire, in her aunt's presence, that she was engaged to marry her cousin, John Ball. Mr Maguire had now enlisted Miss Colza in his service, and had told Miss Colza what had occurred. But still Miss Mackenzie did not thoroughly understand the matter. Why, she asked herself, should Mr Maguire trouble himself further, now that he knew that she had no fortune? But, in truth, it was not so easy to satisfy Mr Maguire on that point, as it was to satisfy Miss Mackenzie herself. He believed that the relatives of his lady-love were robbing her, or that they were, at any rate, taking advantage of her weakness. If it might be given to him to rescue her and her fortune from them, then, in such case as that, surely he would get his reward. The reader will therefore understand why Miss Colza was anxious to know whether Miss Mackenzie had quarrelled with all the b.a.l.l.s.

Margaret's face became unusually black when she was told that she and Mr Maguire had been courting, but she did not contradict the a.s.sertion. She did, however, express her opinion of that gentleman.

"He is a mean, false, greedy man," she said, and then paused a moment; "and he has been the cause of my ruin." She would not, however, explain what she meant by this, and left the house, without going back to the room in which Miss Colza was sitting.

About a week afterwards she got a letter from Mr Slow, in which that gentleman,--or rather the firm, for the letter was signed Slow and Bideawhile,--asked her whether she was in want of immediate funds.

The affair between her and her cousin was not yet, they said, in a state for final settlement, but they would be justified in supplying her own immediate wants out of the estate. To this she sent a reply, saying that she had money for her immediate wants, but that she would feel very grateful if anything could be done for Mrs Mackenzie and her family. Then she got a further letter, very short, saying that a half-year's interest on the loan had, by Mr Ball's consent, been paid to Mrs Mackenzie by Rubb and Mackenzie.

On the day following this, when she was sitting up in her bedroom, Mrs Protheroe came to her, dressed in wonderful habiliments. She wore a dark-blue bonnet, filled all round with yellow flowers, and a spotted silk dress, of which the prevailing colour was scarlet. She was going, she said, to St Mary-le-Strand, "to be made Mrs Buggins of." She tried to carry it off with bravado when she entered the room, but she left it with a tear in her eye, and a whimper in her throat. "To be sure, I'm an old woman," she said before she went.

"Who has said that I ain't? Not I; nor yet Buggins. We is both of us old. But I don't know why we is to be desolate and lonely all our days, because we ain't young. It seems to me that the young folks is to have it all to themselves, and I'm sure I don't know why." Then she went, clearly resolved, that as far as she was concerned, the young people shouldn't have it all to themselves; and as Buggins was of the same way of thinking, they were married at St Mary-le-Strand that very morning.

And this marriage would have been of no moment to us or to our little history, had not Mr Maguire chosen that morning, of all mornings in the year, to call on Miss Mackenzie in Arundel Street. He had obtained her address--of course, from Miss Colza; and, not having been idle the while in pus.h.i.+ng his inquiries respecting Miss Mackenzie's affairs, had now come to Arundel Street to carry on the battle as best he might. Margaret was still in her room as he came, and as the girl could not show the gentleman up there, she took him into an empty parlour, and brought the tidings up to the lodger. Mr Maguire had not sent up his name; but a personal description by the girl at once made Margaret know who was there.

"I won't see him," said she, with heightened colour, grieving greatly that the strong-minded Hannah Protheroe,--or Buggins, as it might probably be by that time,--was not at home. "Martha, don't let him come up. Tell him to go away at once."

After some persuasion, the girl went down with the message, which she softened to suit her own idea of propriety. But she returned, saying that the gentleman was very urgent. He insisted that he must see Miss Mackenzie, if only for an instant, before he left the house.

"Tell him," said Margaret, "that nothing shall induce me to see him.

I'll send for a policeman. If he won't go when he's told, Martha, you must go for a policeman."

Martha, when she heard that, became frightened about the spoons and coats, and ran down again in a hurry. Then she came up again with a sc.r.a.p of paper, on which a few words had been written with a pencil.

This was pa.s.sed through a very narrow opening in the door, as Margaret stood with it guarded, fearing lest the enemy might carry the point by an a.s.sault.

"You are being robbed," said the note, "you are, indeed,--and my only wish is to protect you."

"Tell him that there is no answer, and that I will receive no more notes from him," said Margaret. Then, at last, when he received that message, Mr Maguire went away.

About a week after that, another visitor came to Miss Mackenzie, and him she received. But he was not the man for whose coming she in truth longed. It was Mr Samuel Rubb who now called, and when Mrs Buggins told her lodger that he was in the parlour, she went down to see him willingly. Her life was now more desolate than it had been before the occurrence of that ceremony in the church of St Mary-le-Strand; for, though she had much respect for Mr Buggins, of whose character she had heard nothing that was not good, and though she had given her consent as to the expediency of the Buggins'

alliance, she did not find herself qualified to a.s.sociate with Mr Buggins.

"He won't say a word, Miss," Hannah had pleaded, "and he'll run and fetch for you like a dog."

But even when recommended so highly for his social qualities, Buggins, she felt, would be antipathetic to her; and, with many false a.s.surances that she did not think it right to interrupt a newly-married couple, she confined herself on those days to her own room.

But when Mr Rubb came, she went down to see him. How much Mr Rubb knew of her affairs,--how far he might be in Miss Colza's confidence,--she did not know; but his conduct to her had not been offensive, and she had been pleased when she learned that the first half year's interest had been paid to her sister-in-law.

"I'm sorry to hear of all this, Miss Mackenzie," said he, when he came forward to greet her. He had not thought it necessary, on this occasion, to put on his yellow gloves or his s.h.i.+ny boots, and she liked him the better on that account.

"Of all what, Mr Rubb?" said she.

"Why, about you and the family at the Cedars. If what I hear is true, they've just got you to give up everything, and then dropped you."

"I left Sir John Ball's house on my own account, Mr Rubb; I was not turned out."

"I don't suppose they'd do that. They wouldn't dare to do that; not so soon after getting hold of your money. Miss Mackenzie, I hope I shall not anger you; but it seems to me to be the most horridly wicked piece of business I ever heard of."

"You are mistaken, Mr Rubb. You forget that the thing was first found out by my own lawyer."

"I don't know how that may be, but I can't bring myself to believe that it all is as they say it is; I can't, indeed."