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Glancing at her watch, Helen jumped out of bed and began her toilet and half way through she was interrupted by Alice bouncing in announcing it was gone 8 o'clock and would she (Helen) care about any water for washing. Helen declared she would, upon which she was presented with a can of hot water and a clean towel, soap already having been provided.
Having placed the last hair pin in her k.n.o.b and fastenned her white blouse, Helen went down to the sitting room, where a smell of hot coffee and fried bacon greated her nose.
"Ah this is Marshland's cooking" thought Helen as she raised the cover of the dish. A great improvement was also visible in the room itself. It had been well dusted and swept and a few london flowers adorned the mantle shelf, a clean white curtain hung in the window, and Helen's work box and other little articles lay about the room, making it look far more home like than on the preceding evening.
Cyril (Helen had heard) rose very late, so she was forced to partake of her breakfast alone.
As soon as she had finnished, she rang the bell and ordered a fresh meal to be got ready for Cyril, for she really wished to please him and hoped in a few days time to have the house really nice.
Then Helen thought she would go out and buy a few things, so calling Marshland she said "I am going out now Marshland, and lunch will be at 1.30 if you please. Mr. Sheene likes high tea at 7 in the future we will follow this rule, breakfast at 9. lunch at 1.30, high tea at 7, Wine and biscuits 9.30."
"Very well miss" replied Marshland "I'll see to it"
"Yes" said Helen and do make that girl work for pity's sake, she is so lazy."
"That she is miss" replied Marshland "She'll find her work set now I've come."
Helen laughed "very well" she replied "I'll be in soon. I only want to buy a chicken and a yard or so of muslin for curtains."
So going out, Helen hailed a hansom and got proudly in, much to the envy of Netherby and Wilson (the two clerks) to whom she had not yet been introduced.
And so day followed day and Helen always found plenty to do. She was a first rate house keeper and Cyril treasured her accordingly. Marshland too made vast improvements in the lower regons. Alice was made to work hard and keep herself tidy.
A bright yellow canary was purchased, and hung in the sitting room window to Helen's great delight, and she had no time to be unhappy.
Cyril seemed to prefer being engaged so the marriage was put off, and Helen was once more light hearted and merry and her gay laugh might often be heard as she chatted cheerily to the clerks or played comic songs on the little harmonium.
And yet no one is there to warn Helen of the approaching danger and misery.
CHAPTER 20
THE SILVER TEAPOT
Time sped on and nothing happened to alarm or upset Helen untill a certain October morning.
She had just commenced her breakfast, when in came Cyril attired in his best black suit and stiff collar.
"Why Cyril" cried Helen "how very early you are."
"Yes I am" responded Cyril triumphantly "I am going to see a friend who lives in Piccadilly and I doubt if I shall be back before 10 or 11 tonight."
"Really?" said Helen, "well make a good breakfast or you'll be quite done up."
Cyril made a hearty meal and then went to the front door to see if the weather promised to be fair; it looked rather gloomy, but no rain fell.
As though a sudden thought had struck him, Cyril turned round and entered the office.
"Netherby" he cried sharply "who's afternoon out is it, your's or Wilson's?
"It is Mr. Wilson's sir" replied Netherby.
"Then see he does'nt have it" said Cyril shortly "I have my own reasons for wishing you both to remain at home today, and dont forget the office is in your charge today Netherby; admit no gossiping women or tradesmen."
"No sir" replied the clerk. Cyril turned to leave the office, nearly knocking Helen over as he did so. "Are you off?" she enquired "put on your overcoat dear, it is very chilly."
"All right" said Cyril and he reached his blue melton from the peg.
As Helen was helping him on with his coat she noticed something silver sticking out of the breast pocket.
"Why whatever is this?" she asked in supprise, "it looks like the best silver tea pot."
"Best silver tea pot!" cried Cyril scornfully, as though a man cant carry his cigarette case about with him."
But he looked uncommonly angry for all that and Helen had seen and felt quite enough to convince her that it was the best tea pot and she felt her heart turn sick as she closed the front door after Cyril's retreating figure.
CHAPTER 21
THE p.a.w.n TICKET
Helen's heart was beating fast, as she went back to the sitting room, "oh dear" she cried sitting down on the sofa "whatever is Cyril up to I wonder it _was_ a tea pot I know and it was wrapped in cotton wool too for it felt soft, I do hope he is up to no tricks."
Finding nothing to do Helen sat down to strum on the harmonium, but this did not soothe her spirits and she wandered about the room till her eye fell on a little white ticket lying on the hearth rug. She could not bear to see paper on the floor, so she hastily picked it up, and before tossing it into the fire she looked at it well to make sure it was nothing important.
Helen know enough to see at first glance it was a p.a.w.n ticket for a valuable silver sugar baisen worth 1.10.0.
Her cheeks grew white as she read it and she felt her fingers growing stiff. "Of course" she cried "its as plain as day light, Cyril has p.a.w.ned the best sugar baisen for a few trumpery shillings, oh I'm sure he is getting into bad company" and she commenced to weep. "And I know he means to p.a.w.n the tea pot too."
But this was only the beginning of another long series of troubles for poor Helen, but happily for her she did not know that or it might have driven her mad.
CHAPTER 22
AN UNEXPECTED VISIT
Helen's weeping had given her a headache and she was taking a doze on the sofa, when angry voices were heard at the front door. The voices were those of Mr. Netherby and a young lady evidently in great distress.
Helen came to the pa.s.sage to hear what was the matter "I tell you I've had orders from Mr. Sheene to let no gossiping women inside this office"
cried Mr. Netherby. "But I'm not a gossiping woman" said the lady in agitation.
"And how do I know that?" enquired Mr. Netherby. "I tell you I am a hater of gossip" screamed the lady "and here it is pouring rain and you have the audacity to keep me waiting at the front door, when I ask to see the lady of the house."