Part 51 (1/2)

”What! At Merefield? Then you must know her quite well.”

”Oh! yes,” said Frank, ”I know her quite well.”

Again there was silence. Then the other burst out:

”Look here--I wish you'd let me do something. It seems to me perfectly ghastly--”

”My dear man,” said Frank. ”Indeed you can't do anything.... You got my note, didn't you?”

The clergyman nodded.

”It's just in case I'm ill, or anything, you know. Jack's a great friend of mine. And it's just as well that some friend of mine should be able to find out where I am. I've just written to him myself, as I said in my note. But you mustn't give him my address unless in case of real need.”

”All right. But are you sure--”

”I'm perfectly sure.... Oh! by the way, that lady you sent round did no good. I expect she told you?”

”Yes; she said she'd never come across such a difficult case.”

”Well, I shall have to try again myself.... I must turn off here. Good luck!”

(IV)

Gertie was sitting alone in the kitchen about nine o'clock that night--alone, that is to say, except for the sleeping 'Erb, who, in a cot at the foot of his mother's bed, was almost invisible under a pile of clothes, and completely negligible as a witness. Mrs. Partington, with the other two children, was paying a prolonged visit in Mortimer Road, and the Major, ignorant of this fact, was talking big in the bar of the ”Queen's Arms” opposite the Men's Club of the Eton Mission.

Gertie was enjoying herself just now, on the whole. It is true that she had received some chastis.e.m.e.nt yesterday from the Major; but she had the kind of nature that preferred almost any sensation to none. And, indeed, the situation was full of emotion. It was extraordinarily pleasant to her to occupy such a position between two men--and, above all, two ”gentlemen.” Her att.i.tude towards the Major was of the most simple and primitive kind; he was her man, who bullied her, despised her, dragged her about the country, and she never for one instant forgot that he had once been an officer in the army. Even his blows (which, to tell the truth, were not very frequent, and were always administered in a judicial kind of way) bore with them a certain stamp of brilliance; she possessed a very pathetic capacity for sn.o.bbishness. Frank, on the other side, was no less exciting. She regarded him as a good young man, almost romantic, indeed, in his goodness--a kind of Sir Galahad; and he, whatever his motive (and she was sometimes terribly puzzled about his motives), at any rate, stood in a sort of rivalry to the Major; and it was she who was the cause of contention. She loved to feel herself pulled this way and that by two such figures, to be quarreled over by such very strong and opposite types. It was a vague sensation to her, but very vivid and attractive; and although just now she believed herself to be thoroughly miserable, I have no doubt whatever that she was enjoying it all immensely. She was very feminine indeed, and the little scene of last night had brought matters to an almost exquisite point. She was crying a little now, gently, to herself.

The door opened. Frank came in, put down his cap, and took his seat on the bench by the fire.

”All out?” he asked.

Gertie nodded, and made a little broken sound.

”Very good,” said Frank. ”Then I'm going to talk to you.”

Gertie wiped away a few more tears, and settled herself down for a little morbid pleasure. It was delightful to her to be found crying over the fire. Frank, at any rate, would appreciate that.

”Now,” said Frank, ”you've got the choice once more, and I'm going to put it plainly. If you don't do what I want this time, I shall have to see whether somebody else can't persuade you.”

She glanced up, a little startled.

”Look here,” said Frank. ”I'm not going to take any more trouble myself over this affair. You were a good deal upset yesterday when the lady came round, and you'll be more upset yet before the thing's over. I shan't talk to you myself any more: you don't seem to care a hang what I say; in fact, I'm thinking of moving my lodgings after Christmas. So now you've got your choice.”

He paused.

”On the one side you've got the Major; well, you know him; you know the way he treats you. But that's not the reason why I want you to leave him. I want you to leave him because I think that down at the bottom you've got the makings of a good woman--”

”I haven't,” cried Gertie pa.s.sionately.

”Well, I think you have. You're very patient, and you're very industrious, and because you care for this man you'll do simply anything in the world for him. Well, that's splendid. That shows you've got grit.