The Convert Part 45

Meanwhile Miss Levering had not forgotten her earlier acquaintance. As the wan mother watched the end of the transaction which left the sniffler now quite consoled, in possession of the modest coin, she said navely--

'When anybody gives one of my children a penny, I always save half of it for them the next day.'

Vida Levering turned her head away, and in so doing met Lord Borrodaile's eyes over the back of the bench. She gave a faint start of surprise, and then--

'She saves half of it!' was all she said.

Borrodaile, glancing shrewdly over the further augmented gathering, asked the invariable question--

'How do you account for the fact that so few women are here to show their interest in a matter that's supposed to concern them so much?'

Vida craned her head. 'Beside you, only one!' Borrodaile's mocking voice went on. 'Isn't this an instance of your s.e.x's indifference to the whole thing? Isn't it equally an instance of man's keenness about public questions?' He couldn't forbear adding in a whisper, 'Even such a question, and such men?'

Vida still craned, searching in vain for refutation in female form. But she did not take her failure lying down.

'The men who are here,' she said, 'the great majority of men at all open-air meetings seem to be loafers. Woman--whatever else she may or may not be--isn't a loafer!' Through Borrodaile's laugh she persisted.

'A woman always seems to have something to do, even if it's of the silliest description. Yes, and if she's a decent person at all, she's not hanging about at street corners waiting for some diversion!'

'Not bad; not bad! I see you are catching the truly martial spirit.'

'That's them, ain't it?' One of the young men jumped up.

Vida turned her head in time to see the meeting between two girls and a woman arriving from opposite directions.

'Yes,' she whispered; 'that's Ernestine with the pile of handbills on her arm.'

The lady sent out smiles and signals of welcome with a lifted hand. The busy propagandist took no notice. She was talking to her two companions, one of whom, the younger with head on one side, kept shooting out glances half provocative, half appealing, towards Lord Borrodaile and the young men. She seemed as keenly alive to the fact of these male presences as the two other women seemed oblivious.

'Which is the one,' asked Lord Borrodaile, 'that you were telling me about?'

'Why, Ernestine Blunt--the pink-cheeked one in the long alpaca coat.'

'She doesn't look so very devilish,' he laughed. After an impatient moment's hope that devilishness might develop, he said, 'She hasn't seen you yet.'

'Oh, yes, she has.'

'Then she isn't as overjoyed as she ought to be.'

'She'd be surprised to know she was expected to be overjoyed.'

'Why? Aren't you very good to her?'

'No. She's been rather good to me, though she doesn't take very much stock in me.'

'Why doesn't she?'

'Oh, there are only two kinds of people that interest Ernestine. Those who'll be active in carrying on the propaganda, and those who have yet to be converted.'

'Well, I'm disappointed,' he teased, perceiving how keen his friend was that he should not be. 'The other one would be more likely to convert _me_.'

'Oh, you only say that because the other one's tall, and makes eyes!'

Vida denounced him, to his evident diversion.

Whatever his reasons were, the young men seemed to share his preference.

They were watching the languishing young woman, who in turn kept glancing at them. Ernestine, having finished what she was saying, made her way to where Miss Levering sat, not, it would appear, for any purpose so frivolous as saying good evening, but to deposit what were left of the handbills and the precious portfolio in the care of one well known by now to have a motherly oversight of such properties.

Lord Borrodaile's eyes narrowed with amus.e.m.e.nt as he watched the hurried pantomime.

Instead of 'Thank you,' as Vida meekly accepted the incongruous and by no means light burden: 'We are short of speakers,' said Ernestine.

'You'll help us out, won't you?' As though it were the simplest thing in the world.

Lord Borrodaile half rose in protest.

'No,' said Vida. 'I won't speak till I have something to say.'

'I should have thought there was plenty to _say_!' said the girl.

'Yes, for you. You know such a lot,' smiled her new friend. 'I must get some first-hand knowledge, too, before I try to stand up and speechify.'

'It's now we need help. By-and-by there'll be plenty. But I'm not going to worry you,' she caught herself up. Then, confidentially, 'We've got one new helper that we've great hopes of. She joined to-day.'

'Some one who can speak?'

'Oh, she'll speak, I dare say, by and by.'

'What does she do in the meantime--to----' (to account for your enthusiasm, was implied) 'to show she's a helper? Subscribes?'

'I expect she'll subscribe, too. She takes such an interest. Plenty of courage, too.'

'How do you know?'

'Well'--the voice dropped--'she's _all right_, but she belongs to rather stodgy people. Bothers about respectability, and that sort of thing. But she came along with me this afternoon distributing handbills all over the City for two hours! Not many women of her kind are ready to do _that_ the first thing.'

'No, I dare say not,' said Vida, humbly.

'And one thing I thought a very good sign'--Ernestine bent lower in her enthusiasm--'when we got to Finsbury Circus she said'--Ernestine paused as if struck afresh by the merits of the new recruit--'she said, "_Give me a piece of chalk!_"'

'Chalk! What did she want with----?'

Borrodaile, too, leaned nearer.

'She saw me beginning to write meeting notices on the stones. Of course, the people stopped and stared and laughed. But she, instead of getting shy, and pretending she hadn't anything to do with me, she took the chalk and wrote, "Votes for Women!" all over the pavement of Finsbury Circus.' Ernestine paused a moment that Miss Levering might applaud the new 'helper.' 'I thought that a very good sign in such a respectable person.'

'Oh, yes; a most encouraging sign. Is it the one in mauve who did that?'

'No, that's--I forget her name--oh, Mrs. Thomas. She's new, too. I'll have to let her speak if you won't,' she said, a trifle anxiously.

'Mrs. Thomas, by all means,' murmured Borrodaile, as Ernestine, seeing her plea was hopeless, turned away.