Miss Mary Martha Crawford (11 page)

matter over with regard to, o evniain ing the situation to Roland, and I will call again if[ y,- " Anytime, anytime at all. Miss Crawford. "

He tened &t> : door and himself led her across the outer office aid siioArt her into the corridor.

In the street once again, she stood for a momeit looli towards the

Abbey. She had in her mind arrange to; the bookshop and see Lawrence, as she secretly

Mr. Paine rose and came round the desk and, taking her hand, said.

There, there. There, there. Don't upset yourself, my dear. " He was right. She mustn't distress herself. She mustn't give way to tears,

at least not here; she must wait until she reached home. And not even then, not in front of the others.

What would she tell the others? That would have to wait. Mr. Paine

had just said they could keep their home.

She looked up at him, her eyes blinking away the burning sensation

under her lids as she said, "I'll ... I'll do anything that you suggest, Mr. Paine, as long as we can keep The Habitation."

"Yes, yes." He patted her hand; then nodded at her, walked round the desk again, sat down, took up his pen once more and studied it before saying, "I'm sure there's no way you can cut down on household

expenses, but you could economize just the smallest bit by letting one of your sisters take up a position in the bookshop. How much do you

pay the female who is already there ?"

How strange he should make the same suggestion as Roland. It seemed

inevitable that Mildred should work in the shop. She said on a sigh,

"Five shillings a week."

"Well, well." He looked to the side, arranged some loose sheets of paper on his desk and tapped the pen once more on the inkwell before he continued, "Five shillings is five shillings. And " then there's the manager. Ducat, isn't it? Yes, yes, I know the gentleman. " He

nodded his head.

"Very well read man from what I gather from our conversations in the shop. Of course, there's no possibility of dispensing with his

services.... What is his wage?"

"Fourteen shillings a week."

"H'm! him! Fourteen shillings. That doesn't allow for a reduction, not when everyone is crying out to have their wages raised." He nodded towards her now and added in a conversational tone.

"They all tell you that prices have risen over the past year as if the rise in prices didn't affect oneself. Oh, I have my own experience of this." He glanced towards the door and the outer office, then said,

"Well now, what you

have to do, my dear Miss Crawford, is to go home and talk this matter over with the family. I think Master Roland should be advised of the situation. Could he possibly come home for a time? "

"I... I don't think so, unless the matter was very urgent."

"Well, as I see it, this matter is very urgent. But then it is up to you; the burden seems to have fallen on your shoulders. But you know my advice, sell the chandler's, and by doing so you will clear the

mortgage, and if the sale is propitious then there might be a little over to pay a little off some of the debts and help you along for the next few months. Anyway--' he again rose to his feet 'it is for you, or Master Roland, to make the final decision. And--' once more he was holding her hand 'with regard to your father and this unfortunate

business, try not to let it worry you too much. These things happen; unfortunately they happen all the time, but I can well understand what a shock the revelation has been to you. "

She wetted her lips twice before she asked, "Do you think many people are aware of, of the matter, I mean in the town?"

He veiled his eyes for a moment, then said, "Well I cannot but say truthfully there was some interest as to why he sold the hatter's and his share in the glove factory, but most of all why he got rid of the mill, and having done so still did not settle his debts in the town.

There were, I am afraid, rumours and guesses; but I don't think

anything concrete came to light. "

There was a pause before she said, "Thank you for your help, Mr.

Paine, I am very grateful. I will do as you suggest and . and think

the matter over with regard to, to explaining the situation to Roland, and I will call again if I may. "

"Anytime, anytime at all. Miss Crawford." He opened the door and himself led her across the outer office and showed her into the

corridor.

In the street once again, she stood for a moment looking towards the Abbey. She had in her mind arranged to go to the bookshop and see

Lawrence, as she secretly thought of

him, because she had felt in need of personal comfort and support.

But that was this morning. Looking back to this morning, her troubles then compared to those of the present seemed paltry, and what she

needed now was more than the comfort directed by a warm glance or a

clasp of the hand; what she needed now was someone's arms about her, a voice to say, "Don't worry, leave everything to me." And if she went to the shop she felt, in fact she was certain, that his arms would come out to her, but that this would only be after she told him the reason for her distress, for in the telling the social barrier which had kept them apart would be broken down.

But she couldn't do that . not at the moment she couldn't. Later,

when they knew each other better, then she would tell him as someone who was dose to her, and in the telling perhaps this awful feeling of hate that had come alive in her would dissolve.

She turned about and went towards the chandler's shop, and fifteen

minutes later she climbed into the trap and made for home.

It was Peg Thomycroft who greeted her as she stepped stiffly down into the yard.

"By! you look froze to the bone, Miss Martha Mary," she said.

"Eeh! you look like death on wires. Come on in an' get your things off. Leave him--' she jerked her head towards the horse " I'll get Nick to see to him in a minute; you get inside, miss. Eeh! you do

look froze. "

As Martha entered the kitchen, Peg yelled across the yard in a voice that seemed to come from someone three times her size, "You! You Nick there! You Nick! Come and see t'animal." Then hurrying into the kitchen where Dilly was now helping Martha off with her coat, she said,

"Eeh! Miss looks like death, doesn't she, Dilly?"

"Less of your chatter and brew some tea, an' strong."

Dilly did not question Martha now in any way, but, chaffing her stiff white fingers between her rough palms, she made a statement, "Them trains," she said! knew it, them trains. An' it's my bet you haven't had a bite inside you since you left this morning Now get yourself into the sitting-room. There's a good fire on; take your shoes off and put your feet to the blaze. I'll be with you in a minute. "

Like someone who had lost the power of speech Martha -went slowly from the kitchen and across the hall, and she had just entered the

sitting-room when she heard a door close overhead and footsteps coming running down the stairs. And she knew they weren't Nancy's, for they didn't pound.

She was sitting before the fire when Mildred came rushing into the

room. Mildred gave her no greeting but cried at her, "She hasn't come back yet; four hours she's been out. As soon as she finished her turn with Aunt Sophie she went out. It's four hours or more. Instead of

always going for me you want to go for her when ..." Her voice trailed away as she looked down into Martha's upturned face and, her tone

softer now and holding some concern, she ended, "What is it? Are you ill, Martha Mary?"

T .

mve . rycol . ld. "

"Oh, I'll get you a hot drink."

T)il. Dilly is seeing to it. " 'you look--' Mildred didn't say how she thought her sister looked but, now kneeling by her side, she took her hand and said, " Oh'you are cold, frozen. What is it? Was it a dreadful journey? "

"Not.... not very pleasant."

"Did ... did you see Great-Uncle James?"

Martha closed her eyes.

"No, no, I didn't see him."

"Then he's not going to help us?"

"No; we need expect no help from... Gr... eat Uncle James. Now let me be quiet for a while until ... until I get warm." She held out her hands to the blaze; then after a moment turned and looked at Mildred who was sitting back on her heels staring at her, for once seemingly forgetting her own needs, and she said, 'you say Nancy has been out a long while? "

"Yes." Mildred's voice was quiet now.

"I was getting

worried. That's why I. well, it's over four hours and it'll soon be

dark. I was worried. "

"Yes, yes. As soon as I get warm we'll... we'll go out and ,. and look for her."

"You'll do no such thing, not while I'm here." It was Dilly entering the room and behind her Peg, her arms stretched wide, carrying a tray on which there was a pot of tea, milk and sugar, a plate of cut cold meat and another of new bread and butter.

The tray having been put down on the side table, Dilly poured out a cup of tea and handed it to Martha, saying, "Drink that up. No talking now, just drink it up."

When Martha sipped at the tea she wrinkled her face and, looking up at Dilly, said, "It's--' she paused 'it's got a strange taste."

"I...

I know it has a strange taste, there's a drop of whisky at the bottom.

Now we won't have any talk. It's either getting' you unthawed, an'

quickly, or you'll be in bed for the next week or so. Now drink it up.

"

Martha sipped at the whiskyed tea and by the time she had finished it she felt somewhat better, at least physically. She looked from Dilly to Peg, and then to Mildred, as she said quietly, "Don't worry; I'm I'm all right, I feel much better now. It turned so very cold. I I think we're going to have more snow." As she finished speaking there was the sound of running footsteps across the hall and the door burst open and Nancy bounded in, her cheeks rosy, her face bright She made straight for Martha, saying, "Oh, you're back then! How did the visit go?"

She paused now, taking in the scene; then looking from one to the

other, she asked, "What's the matter?"

"Everything!" Mildred was barking at her.

"Martha Mary came back almost dead with the cold and you've been gone over four hours and it coming on dark and we were worried, and you

don't care. All you think of is riding, riding, and yourself."

"I don't! I don't! It's you who always think of yourself, or

your cats. I had to walk Belle back; she got a stone in her foot.

"

"There. There." Mildred was wagging her head at her, "More trouble.

You rode him too hard; you're mad when you're on a . "

"Be quiet! Be quiet both of you!... Where have you been all this time.

Nancy? " Martha was looking up at Nancy now, her face straight.

"I

went for a ride and . and I crossed the river. It was low then, but

when I was coming back, well, I thought I'd better not come over that way so I went to the toll bridge Oh, what does it matter? " She turned round and rushed from the room in a manner that caused Martha's mind to lift from the present situation and think that it did matter. Four

hours. Where had she been during the four hours? From the yard to the stepping-stones where the water was usually shallow would not have

taken her more than ten minutes, and even if she had to return by the toll bridge as she said, she could have covered the whole journey in an hour.

Her thoughts were brought sharply back to the present by Dilly shouting at Peg, saying, "Well! What you standin' there for gapin'?

Get about your business, miss! " and as Peg obediently scampered from the room, Dilly, looking now at Mildred, pointed towards the ceiling, and Mildred, after a moment's defiant hesitation, flounced out of the room too.

Alone now with Martha, Dilly looked down on her; then, seating herself on the edge of a chair, which privilege she had accorded herself for years when with the children, as she still thought of the girls, she bent her swollen body towards Martha and asked simply, "Well, what happened?"

Martha stared back into the face of the woman who had known her since birth, and whom she had become aware of very early in life as a sort of mother comfort, and what she answered was, "Oh! Dilly."

"Like that, is it?" : Martha nodded her head twice. ; "You got your eyes opened then?" i s-mmc-e 81 "Yes, yes, indeed, I got my eyes opened, Dilly. It was horrible.... He was horrible ... horrible." She screwed her eyes up tightly against the image of her father and the

young woman as Dilly, shaking her head slowly from side to side, said,

"Aw, don't take it to heart like that, lass. You would have twigged how the wind blew sooner or later; you couldn't help but."

Martha's eyes were stretched wide now and her voice was a mere whisper,

"You knew all about it? ... I ... I mean before?"

"Aye, it's nothin' new. He'd been at it for years, practically since he was first married."

"Dilly!"

"Aw, don't sound like that now. Miss Martha. It's the truth. Your mother knew of it long afore she died."

"No, no!" She was shaking her head in emphatic protest.

"But aye.

Aye, lass, aye. There was one thing he couldn't do though as long as she was about, he couldn't get his hands on the money. " Martha was leaning back in the chair now, her hands gripping the arms.

"But they seemed so happy. They..."

"I suppose they were in spasms. When a woman thought as much about a man as your ma did about him she'd forgive him anything. As you

yourself know, with his manner like warm butter spreadin' over you he could get you climbin' greasy poles. He's had you on one since your ma went."

"But... but you seemed to like him, and ..."

"Well, tell me who didn't.... An' don't go an' tell me I should have told you. What good would that have done, I ask you, eh? It's bad

enough now, but if you'd had to look him in the face and know that...

well! I ask you."