The Time of Roses Part 16

She was devoted to her son Maurice, and, although she delighted in feeling that he was provided for for life owing to Mrs. Aylmer's generosity, she missed him morning, noon, and night.

"Ah, darling, it is good to see you back again," she said; "but you look hot and tired. What a long time you have been in town!"

"I have had quite an adventure," he said. "Mother, I want to know if you will do something for me."

"You have but to ask, Maurice."

"There is a girl"--he hesitated, and a very slight accession of colour came into his bronzed cheeks, "there is a girl I have taken rather a fancy to. Oh, no, I am not the least bit in love with her, so don't imagine it, little mother; but I pity her, and like her also exceedingly. I met her down at Dawlish. I want to know if you will be good to her. I came across her to-day whilst walking in town, and she was looking, oh! so f.a.gged out and tired! I said you would write and invite her to come and see us here, and I promised that you would ask her to spend next Sunday with us."

"Oh, my dear Maurice, your last Sunday with me, G.o.d only knows for how long!"

"But you don't mind, do you, mother?"

She looked at him very earnestly. She was a wise woman in her way.

"No, I don't mind," she said; "I will ask her, of course."

"Then that is all right. Her name is Miss Florence Aylmer, and this is her address."

"Aylmer! How strange!"

"It is all very strange, mother. I cannot understand it, and it troubles me a good deal. She is Florence Aylmer, and she is my Mrs. Aylmer's niece by marriage."

"Very queer," said Mrs. Trevor; "I never thought Mrs. Aylmer had any relations. What sort of girl did you say she was?"

"Not exactly handsome, but with a taking face and a good deal of pluck about her--and oh, mother, I believe she is starvingly poor, and she has to earn her own living, I made her have a cup to tea and some bread-and-b.u.t.ter to-night, and she ate as if she were famished. It's awfully distressing. I really don't know what ought to be done."

CHAPTER XV.

EDITH FRANKS.

When Florence reached home she sat down for a long time in her attic, and did not move. She was thoroughly tired, and the slight meal she had taken at the restaurant had by no means satisfied her appet.i.te. After about half an hour of anxious thought, during which she looked far older than her years, she took off her hat, and, going to her tiny chest of drawers, unlocked one of them and took her purse out. She carefully counted its contents. There were twelve unbroken sovereigns in the purse, and about two pounds' worth of silver--nearly fourteen pounds in all.

"How fast it is going!" thought the girl. "At this rate it will not see me through the winter, and, if those terrible people at the different registry-offices are right, I may not get any work during the whole winter. What shall I do? I will not go back to the little Mummy, to live upon her and prove myself a failure. I shall not ask anybody to help me.

I must, I will fight my battle alone. Oh, this hunger! What would I not give for a good dinner."

She took up one of the shillings, and looked at it longingly. With this in her hand, she could go down to the restaurant and have as much food as she required. Suddenly she made up her mind.

"I must eat well for once. I must get over this hunger. I cannot help myself," she said to herself. "This meal must last me the greater part of the week; to-morrow and the next day and the next I must do with a bread-and-b.u.t.ter dinner; but there is Sunday to be thought of--Sunday with that nice Mr. Trevor, Sunday with the country air all around, and of course plenty to eat. If I can have a good dinner to-night, I can go without another at least till Sunday."

So, hastily putting back the rest of her money, and locking her drawer, she went downstairs to the restaurant. She went to a table where she had sat before, and ordered her meal. She looked at the _menu_ and ordered her dinner with extreme care. She could have anything she fancied on the _menu_ for a shilling. A good many girls had really excellent and nourishing meals for sixpence, but Florence was so hungry she determined to be, as she expressed it, greedy for once. So she made her selection, and then sat back to wait as best she could for the first of the dishes to arrive.

A girl with a rosy face and bright dark eyes presently came and took the seat opposite to her. She was a stranger to Florence. The waitress came up and asked what the girl would like to have for dinner.

"Soup, please, and a chop afterwards," was the hasty reply.

The waitress went away, and the girl, taking a German book out of her bag, opened it and began to read eagerly. She did not notice Florence, who had no book, and was feeling in a very excited and fractious humour, becoming feverishly anxious for her dinner. Presently Florence dropped her napkin-ring, making a little clatter as she did so. The girl seated opposite started, stopped, and picked it up for her.

"Thank you," said Florence.

There was something in her tone which caused the strange girl to drop her German book and look at her attentively.

"Are you very tired?" she said.

"Tired, yes, but it does not matter," answered Florence.

"It is the hot weather," said the girl; "it is horrid being in town now.

I should not be, only--" She paused and looked full at Florence, then she said impulsively: "You will be somewhat surprised: I am going to be a doctor--a lady doctor. You are horrified, no doubt. Before ten years are out there will be women doctors in England: they are much wanted."

"But can you, do they allow you to study in the men's schools?"

"Do they?" said the girl; "of course they don't. I have to go to America to get my degree. I am working here, and shall go to New York early in the spring. Oh, I am very busy, and deeply interested. The whole thing is profoundly interesting, fearfully so. I am reading medical books, not only in English, but also in French and German. Do you mind if I go on reading until dinner arrives?"

"Of course not. Why should you stop your studies on my account?" said Florence.

The girl again favoured her with a keen glance, and then, to Florence's surprise, instead of continuing her reading, she immediately closed her book and looked full across at her companion.

"Why don't you read?" said Florence, in a voice which was almost cross.

"Thank you; I have found other employment."

"Staring at me?"

"Well, yes; you interest me. You are _fearfully_ neurotic and--and anaemic. You ought to take iron."

"Thank you," said Florence; "I don't want anything which would make me more hungry than I am at present. Iron is supposed to promote appet.i.te, is it not?"

"Yes. Do you live in this house?"

"I do," answered Florence.

"I have taken a room on the third floor, No. 17. What is your number?"

"Oh, I aspire a good bit," said Florence, with the ghost of a smile; "the number of my room is 32."

"May I come and see you?"

"No, thank you."

"What a rude girl! You certainly are _fearfully_ neurotic. Ah! here comes--no, it's not my dinner, it is yours."

The soup Florence had ordered was placed before her. How she wished this bright-eyed girl, with the rude manner, as she considered, would resume her German.

"Would you like me to go on reading?" said the girl.