The Lady of the Basement Flat Part 13

"I think it was extremely natural. Just what I should have expected to happen. You are very pretty, you know, and I expect you made a charming task-mistress. And, of course, any sane girl must have been interested in him. But--what did you think about the life in this little place?"

"Oh! I didn't think about it at all," she said calmly. "I was so happy, and--excited. And so busy getting my clothes, and the presents, and arranging for the wedding. I had a lovely wedding. Eight bridesmaids carrying rose-staves. And Jacky took me to Switzerland for the honeymoon, and was so young and gay himself. Like a boy. I had a perfectly glorious three months, and then--"

She paused, and the pink and white face puckered into a grimace as she cast an expressive glance to right and left.

"We came _home_! That was the first shock, seeing all this dingy, hideous furniture, and realising that it had to stay. Jacky likes it because it belonged to his mother, and he thinks it would be wicked waste to sell it for nothing, and buy new. I tried to brighten things up, but--if you look round this room you will realise that a few new things made the effect _worse_! I gave it up in despair, and all my pretty cushions and embroideries, and pictures and ornaments are hidden away in boxes in the attic."

"Oh, that's hard! You have my unbounded sympathy. I should hate to live in uncongenial surroundings. Isn't there _any_ room in the house you could have for your own, and furnish just exactly as you like?"

"All the rooms are full. I've given up trying to change things _now_, but they irritate me all the same. When I've been out all the day at meetings and guilds, it would be a rest to come home to a pretty room.

I look at those maroon curtains, and this hideous patterny carpet, and feel all nervy and on edge; then Jacky thinks I am tired, and brings me hot milk." She opened her speedwell blue eyes to their fullest width, and stared at me dolefully. "Oh, Miss Wastneys, it is so strenuous to have to live up to an ideal!"

"It would be still more strenuous to--_fall short_," I said curtly, and she gave a start of dismay.

"Oh, goodness, yes! Anything rather than that! I wouldn't for the world have Jacky find me out."

I felt like an aged grandam admonishing a silly child. Of course in the long run he was bound to find out, for Delphine's discontent was obviously increasing, and the hour was at hand when her self-control would come to a sudden and violent end. Then there would be hasty words and recriminations, the memory of which no after remorse could wipe away. I was sure of it, and said so plainly, qualifying my prophecy with a big "unless."

"Unless you can make up your mind to be honest _now_, and tell your husband the whole truth. There is nothing to be ashamed of in being young and needing variety in life. Tell him frankly that too much parish gets on your nerves, and that you could do your work better if you went away for a few weeks every three or four months. There must be friends whom you could visit, and who would be glad to have you. After a change of scene and occupation you would come home braced and refreshed, and ready to make a fresh start. And you might speak about the room at the same time. You need not suggest selling any furniture, but just storing some of it away in an attic or cellar, so that you could have a little boudoir of your own. Do be sensible, and tell him to-night. He loves you. He wants you to be happy. He would understand."

She shook her head.

"No. He would be kind and patient. He would agree at once, and never say a word of reproach, but--he wouldn't understand. That's just it.

His whole idea of me would be shocked out of existence. He would be disappointed to the bottom of his soul. I--I can't do it, Miss Wastneys; but it's been a relief to grumble to you. Thank you for letting me do it. Things have been just a little better since you and Mrs Fane came to 'Pastimes'. I haven't seen much of you, of course, but I have enjoyed watching you. You wear such lovely clothes, and you are young and interesting. Most of the people are so dull and settled down. I wish you would call me 'Delphine,' and come to see me as often as you can. Just run in any time you are pa.s.sing, and let me come to you in the same way. I've been so bored. Well, never mind," she brightened suddenly; "the fete will be a little excitement. I _am_ looking forward to that."

An idea flashed into my head. I was sorry for the girl, and intensely, forebodingly sorry for her husband. If one could help to avert the threatened tragedy.

"I am just wondering," I began tentatively. "Of course I can make no definite offer without consulting Mrs Fane, but--would you like it if we lent our grounds for the fete? The extra s.p.a.ce might be an advantage, and we could save you trouble by arranging for the tents and refreshments, and perhaps organise some little stall on our own account."

I really thought that might save a good deal of expense, and so add to the profit of the afternoon, and also that with our wider experience we might run the fete on more advanced lines, and so give her, as well as the rest of the parish, a more amusing time; but to my disappointment she flushed, and looked far from pleased.

"Oh, thanks, but--really, this is my affair! If I have all the duty and responsibility of being the Vicar's wife, I don't see why I should give up the fun of being hostess and arranging my own fete in my own way.

It's very sweet of you, of course, and I'm very grateful. I hope you won't be offended."

I began to laugh.

"Offended! Why--Delphine, I was thinking entirely of you. I'm immensely relieved, if you want the real truth. That's settled then, and we'll give you some treasures for the Hunt. What would you like?

Make up an appropriate list and send it along. Anything you like, up to--say five pounds!"

"Oh, you angel! Will you really?" she cried ecstatically. I had risen this time, and she slid her hand through my arm, and accompanied me to the door. Seen close at hand, her face looked almost child-like in its clear soft tints. I noticed also that her blouse was very fine and delicate, a very different thing from the cheap lace fineries which she had worn when I first saw her. She followed the direction of my eye, stroked down an upstarting frill, and coloured furiously. "Ah, my blouse! Do you admire it? I wrote to town for it, to your dressmaker, and I've ordered a lovely frock. You'll see. For once in my life I shall be really well dressed! Seeing you and Mrs Fane has made me discontented with my dowdy old rags!"

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

THE GARDEN FETE.

The garden fete came off yesterday, and on the surface was a roaring success. The weather was ideal; the vicarage garden proved all that was necessary in the way of a background, and the arrangements were so extraordinarily complete that my practical mind was constantly confronted with the question, "Won't this _cost_ far more than it gains?" In a big city a charity entertainment may throw out expensive baits with a fair chance of catching a shoal of fat and unwary fish; but in a small village the catch can be calculated to a sou. The big fish of the neighbourhood will heave a sigh of duteous resignation, put a five-pound note in the purse, and start for the fray prepared to spend it all, but not one penny more! The smaller fry carry out the same policy with ten or fifteen shillings. The minnows take half-a-crown, with which they pay for tea, and purchase soap at the provision stall, reporting to their husbands at night that, after all, the money was not wasted. The Vicar might just as well have it as the grocer. All the attractions in the world cannot worm shillings out of a public which is so prudent and canny that it has self-guarded itself by leaving its cash at home!

Many times over yesterday afternoon I saw the flicker of longing in feminine eyes as they gazed upon the tempting novelties displayed upon the stalls, but the next moment the lips would screw, the feet pa.s.s by.

Guild garments must be bought; tea paid for; tickets bought for the novel Treasure Hunt, wherein--with luck!--one might actually _gain_ by the outlay. The visitors lingered to gaze at the pretty china, and gla.s.s, and embroideries with which Delphine had filled her stall; but the afternoon wore on, and it looked as full as ever--horribly full!

There were none of those bare, blank s.p.a.ces which stall-holders love to see. At five o'clock we marked off the odd sixpences; at six o'clock we dropped a whole shilling, but still--hardly a sale!

Delphine looked--a vision! At the first glimpse of her in her cobweb fineries, I was ill-bred enough to gape, whereat she blushed and said hurriedly:--

"_Your_ dressmaker! Yes! Isn't it a duck?"

And knowing the prices which Celeste charges for ducks with such feathers, I wondered, and--feared! Did the Vicar know? Was it possible that with his small stipend he could afford such extravagances? Had the silly little thing ordered, and never _asked_? Was it my fault for having given the address? Could I have helped doing so, when I was asked? I _had_ said she was expensive. It was some small comfort to remember that, and Charmion would say it was no concern of mine. A dozen such disconcerting thoughts raced through my mind, but I shook them off, and said heartily:--

"It is lovely! _You_ are lovely! I had no idea you were such a beauty.

What does your husband say?"

Her face clouded.

"Nothing. Doesn't notice. Likes me as much in an old print. But I--_love_ it! Oh, you don't know what bliss it is to feel 'finished off'. Everything new, good, pretty, and to match!" She gave a rapid swirling movement of the hand to call my attention to such details as shoes and stockings, embroidered bag, and glorified garden hat. "It's nothing to _you_. You have had them all your life, but I have only longed and--_starved_!"

She spoke with a pa.s.sionate emphasis, which to many people would seem out of all keeping with the subject; but I am young, and a girl, so I understood. There are many empty-headed women in whom the craving for pretty things is as strong as the masculine craving for drink and cards.

Circ.u.mstances have compelled these women to wear the plainest, most useful of clothes, while every shop window shows a tantalising display of colour and beauty, and other women not half so pretty as themselves bloom with a borrowed radiance!

No mere man can understand the inborn feminine joy in the feel of fine smooth fabric, nor the blending of delicate colours, the dainty ruffling of lace. To the rich these things come as a matter of course, and the working cla.s.ses are satisfied with garish imitations; it is the poor gentlewoman with the cultivated taste, the cultivated longing for beauty, to whom temptation comes in its keenest form. It had come to Delphine, and she had succ.u.mbed. I devoutly hoped and prayed that the shock of the coming bill would prevent further extravagances!

Charmion and I took charge of the Treasure Hunt. We had given the treasures, which were laboriously chosen with a view to suitability.

Umbrellas (lashed flat to the trunks of trees!) bags, photograph frames, writing cases, boxes of handkerchiefs, chocolate, cigarettes, scent, and--this was a cunning idea!--cash orders on a big London store.

There was a great rush for tickets, and the Vicar--very flurried, and out of his element, poor man!--dragged in the Squire to help us. The Squire had arrived with his mother an hour before, and had sat under a cedar, drinking tea with a selection of old ladies and gentlemen, looking as though he liked it quite well. Whenever he met my eye, he glowered, as if to say, "How dare you look at me!" and I smiled back, as that seemed to annoy him most. Now, as the Vicar brought him up, I could hear his muttered protests: "Rather not! Can't _you_--isn't there something else?" Pleasing thing, I must say, to have a man forced to help you against his will!

Well, it was no use making a fuss before a score of curious eyes, so for the next half-hour we stood side by side, selling tickets, explaining the rules of the Hunt, marshalling the seekers in readiness for the signal to start. He is capable enough, I will say that for him, and has a patent knack of silencing garrulous questioners. It was the funniest thing in the world to stand at the end of the lawn, and watch these rustic backs--young, old, and fat middle-aged--all poised on one leg, swaying to and fro, straining to be off! Excruciatingly funny to watch the stampede, after the loud "One--two--three--and away!" The plunges, the waddles, the skelter of flying heels! One might have thought the gold of Klond.y.k.e was hidden in the kitchen garden. I laughed, and laughed, in a good old Irish paroxysm of merriment, until the tears rolled down my cheeks. Mr Maplestone stared, turned on his heel, and stalked away.

I strolled back to the upper lawn, and the first person I saw was old General Underwood sitting in his bath-chair, which had been drawn under the shade of a tree, so that he might see everything, and yet be well out of the way. He was too much out of the way, poor old dear! to judge by his looks, and agreeably pleased to see my approach.

"Well, young lady, and how are you to-day? You look very fresh and charming!"

"That's very nice of you, General! I do like to be admired. Isn't this rather a dull corner for you? Wouldn't you like to be moved?"

He looked around with his old, blue eyes.

"Everyone seems to have gone. There was quite a crowd here a few minutes ago. I sent my man to the village to post some letters."

"We can manage without him. There is a Treasure Hunt going on at the other end of the garden. That is why this part is so empty. Mrs Merrivale has hidden a lot of parcels among the trees and shrubs, and everyone who pays a shilling can go and search for a treasure."

"Ha!" His face lit up with the hunting instinct, which seems dormant in us all. "Treasures--I see! A good idea. Worth more, I presume, than the entrance shilling?"

"Oh, much, much more." The pride of the donor sounded in my voice; then I looked at the poor, old, tired, wistful face, and had a brilliant idea. "General, shall _we_ go hunting--you and I? I'll push and you'll steer, and we'll both look, and if it's a man's present, it's yours, and if it's a woman's, it's mine, and if it's neutral, we'll toss! They've only just started, so we're in time."

He gripped the handle involuntarily, then loosened it to say:--

"My dear, I'm too heavy. Wait till my man--"