The Garden Party, and Other Stories

barrel-organ struck up. Josephine and C

hine. "Run quickly. Th

d Constantia be told to make that monkey take his noise somewhere else. Never would sound that loud, strange bellow whe

will thu

will th

he barre

such a strange smile; she looked dif

r hands together. "Do you know what day it is?

since fa

ince fat

smiled faintly, strangely. On the Indian carpet there fell a square of sunlight, pa

d Josephine, as thou

shook from the barrel-organ, round,

e and gilt image, whose smile always gave her such a queer feeling, almost a pain and yet a pleasant pain, seemed to-day to be more than smiling. He knew somethin

a black feather boa. Why did the photographs of dead people always fade so? wondered Josephine. As soon as a person was dead their photograph died too. But, of course, this one of mother was very old. It was thirty-five years old. Josephine remembered standing on a chair and pointing out that feather boa to Constantia and te

eep." But Josephine felt they were not sparrows, not on the window-ledge. It was inside her,

than strangers? One read of people having adventures, being followed, and so on. But nobody had ever followed Constantia and her. Oh yes, there had been one year at Eastbourne a mysterious man at their boarding-house who had put a note on the jug of hot water outside their bedroom door! But by the time Connie had found it the steam had made the writi

res on the carved screen had leered at her and she hadn't minded. She remembered too how, whenever they were at the seaside, she had gone off by herself and got as close to the sea as she could, and sung something, something she had made up, while she gazed all over that restless water. There had been this other life, running out, bringing things home in bags, getting things on approval, discussing them wit

over to where Josephine was standing. She wanted to say something to Jose

hink perhaps

wondering if now-" she murmured. The

on," said

after you," sa

e going to say. You b

at you were going to say

be absu

lly,

nni

, J

say what I was going to say, Jug, because I've f

d at a big cloud where the sun had been. The

AND MRS

ing short of desperation, nothing short of the fact that this was positively his last day in England for God knows how long, would have screwed him up to it. And even now... He chose a tie out of the chest of drawers, a blue and cream check tie, and sat on the side of his bed. Su

t even boast of top-hole health, for the East Africa business had knocked him out so thoroughly that he'd had to take six months' leave. He was still fearfully pale-worse even than usual this afternoon, he thought, bending forward and peering into the mirror. Good heavens! What had happened? His hair looked almost bright green. Dash it all, he hadn't green hair at all events. That was a bit too steep. And then the g

e couldn't help hoping. Well, was it hope? Or was this queer, timid longing to have the chance of looking after her, of making it his job to see that she had everything she wanted, and that nothing came near her that wasn't perfect-just love? How he loved her! He squeezed hard against the chest of drawers and murmured to it, "I love her, I love her!" And just for the moment he was with her on the way to Umtali. It was night. She sat in a corner asleep. Her soft chin was tucked into her soft collar, her gold-brown lashes lay on her cheeks. He doted on h

en moments, many of them, in Reggie's life, before Uncle Alick died and left him the fruit farm, when he was convinced that to be a widow's only son was about the worst punishment a chap could have. And what made it rougher than ever was that she was positively all that he had. She wasn't only a combined parent, as it were, but she had quarrelled with a

to snap the head of a dead something or

t, Reginald?" she ask

said Reggie weakly, plunging hi

a head. Reggi

uld have spared your mother y

and glossy she looked like a lump of half-melted toffee. But Chinny's porcelain eyes gloomed at Reginald, and he sniffed faintl

ng, if your mother may

, his elbow jogged the syringa bushes, and petals and pollen scattered over his coat sleeve. But wait a bit. This was too quick altogether. He'd meant to think the whole thing out again. Here, steady. But he was walking up the path, with the huge rose bushes on either side. It can't be done like this. But his hand had grasped the bell, given it a pull, and started it pealing wildly, as if he'd come to say the house was on fire. The housemaid must have been in the hall, too, for the front door flashed open, and Reggie was shut in the empty drawing-room before that confounded bell had stopped ringing. Strangely enough, when it did, the big room, shadowy, with some one's parasol lying on to

cket buttons, and stammered out, "As a matte

ed back from him and her grey eye

long, soft peal, and walked away from him over to the piano,

a bad ha-habit." And suddenly she stamped her grey shoe, and took a pocket-handkerchie

ie, "I love to hear you laughing

wished to God he understood, Anne had laughed at him. Why? It didn't matter where they were or what they were talking about. They might begin by being as serious as possible, dead serious-at any rate, as

ad seen her turn away, frown, suck in her cheeks, press her hands together. But it was no use. The

ed the handk

you. I'll have one too." He lighted a match for her, and as she bent forward he saw the tiny

he blew a little fan of smoke. Why on earth was

tfully hard to b

ow beautiful she looked like that!-simply beautiful-and she was so small in that immense chair. Reginald's heart swelled w

his cigarette. "It's ghastly, t

o-coo," sounded

lace. "Father was saying only the other night how lucky he thought you were to have a life of your own."

again. And Anne murmured

arette savagely on the green ash-tray. "I could stand any amount of it, used to l

o-coo! Roo-

ves," she said. "They've been moved to the side

ned the French window for her and stood to one side

n front, she's Mrs. Dove. She looks at Mr. Dove and gives that little laugh and runs forward, and he follows her, bowing and bowing. And that makes her laugh again. Away she runs, and after her," cried Anne, and she sat back on her heels, "comes poor Mr. Dove, bowing

the grains of maize on her palm with one finger. Then slowly she shut her hand, and the new world faded as she murmured slowly, "No, never in that way." But he had scarcely time to feel anything before she walked quickly away, and he followed her down the steps, along the garden path, under the pink rose arches, across the lawn. There, with the gay herbaceous border behind her, Anne faced Reginald. "It isn't that I'm not awfully fond of

ickly. "How could there be? And I do believe I know why I make you laugh. It's because you're

one of those things. You don't know me. I'm the most awful character," said Anne. "Please don't interrupt. And besides, that's not the point. The point is"-she shook her head-"I couldn't possibly

the kind of man that Anne and he had seen often at the theatre, walking on to the stage from nowhere, without

vision. "Yes, I se

explain. You know I've never-" She stopped. Reggie looked at her. She was smiling. "Isn't it fu

e never felt so happy with any one. But I'm sure it's not what people and what books mean when they talk about

e, with the dark ilex-tree beside it. A wet, blue thumb of transparent smoke hung above the chimney. It didn't look real. How his throat ached! Could he speak? He had a shot. "I must be getting along home," he croak

g himself a shake. "I'll... I'll-" And he

nds and stood in front of him. "Surely you do see

id Reggie, looking at

ean, it's all very well for Mr. and Mrs. Dov

stopped him. She tugged at his sleeve, and to his astonishment, this time

n-unhappy?" she wailed. "Why do you mind s

away. "I can't help it," he said, "I've ha

as crimson. "How can you be so cruel? I can't let you go until I know for certain that you are jus

simple to Reginald. It se

ll that way away, with only that awful mother to write t

off his sleeve and kissed it. "Don't pity me, dear little Anne," he said gen

o!" sounded from the veranda. "R

en she saw his timid, puzzled

id Anne. And Reginald cam

YOUNG

er might have just dropped from this radiant heaven. Mrs. Raddick's timid, faintly astonished, but deeply admiring glance looked as if she believed it, too; but the daughter didn't appear any too pl

u'll have tea and we'll be back here on this step-right here-in an hour. You see, I want he

me along. Don't talk so much. And your bag's

arling," said

y," said the impatient voice. "It's

ed!" I saw Mrs. Raddick pressing notes into he

minute, watching the people. He

n English bulldog. Are they a

hey're

and they're never fierce with their-the people they belong to." Suddenly he squeezed my arm.

thers, jerked slowly, slowly up the steps as though she were being drawn up on wires. She stared in front of her,

rs. Raddick rushed at me. She was brightly flushed, gay, a different creature. She was like a woman who is s

dling her foot on the step, miles away. "They won't let her in. I swore she was twenty-one. But they won't believe me. I showed the man my purse; I didn't dare to do more. But it was no use. He simply scoffed.

"What utter rot! How dare you make a scene like this? This is the last time I'll come out with you. You

erate. She was "wild" to go back with

Would you-do you care

t I wanted, isn't it, darling? Mrs. MacEwen...

he steps. I saw her

, too. When the car was there she wrapped her dark coat round her-to escape contaminatio

orry," I murmured

would-if they were seventeen! It's"-and she gave a faint shudder-"

ck look and then peer

ink-and-white marble with orange-trees o

re to go in?"

resigned herself. "Oh well, there seems n

of it was having her little brother, who was only twelve, with us. T

carnations and pink plates with l

we si

rily on the back of

ell. Why not

ut of it. She didn't even take her gloves off. She lowered her eyes and drummed o

dared to ask her. "Tea-coffee? C

same to her. She didn't really want a

she cried out carelessly, "Oh, you ma

x with a mirror in the lid, shook the poor little puf

tions, and I heard her murmur, "I can't bear flowers on a table." They had evidently

ged, with, for one dreadful moment, a little trembling blob of cream on the tip. But he hastily wiped it off like a little gentleman. I wondered if I should dar

ly sweet!

ay of pastries-row upon row of little freaks, little inspirations, little melt

ocolate cream, a coffee eclair, a meringue stuffed with chestnut and a tiny horn filled with fresh str

ive me one,

tlet. "I don't know why you're giving me all these," she

if I might smoke. At that she paused, the fork in her hand, opened her eyes

flew in two, and one half spilled on the table. Ghastly affair! He turned crimson. Even his e

little beas

o the rescue. I cried hastil

was forgotten, too. She was trying to

he said slowly, f

efer it to London

came back and looked at

I cried, wavi

der. Even then, "Oh well, that depe

ished. He was

bout an ice, Hennie? What about tangerine and ginger? No

s had her eye on us. The order was ta

And then quickly, "I wish that orchestra wouldn't play things from the

air. Now that I noti

er a nice place, don'

to say it very low, but it came o

er lovely eyes wondered. A very good-looking elderly man stared back at her through a monocle on a black ribbon

er diamond wrist-watch; it got in her way. She tugged at it-tried to break the stupid little thing-it wouldn't break. Finally, she had to drag her glove over. I sa

ith small stars; the big lamps glowed. While we waited for the car to come

n the door and she got in and

asped, "to drive

. "Allie veet!" said he. Then he composed

little puff was shaken; again there was that swif

issors tearing through brocade. Hennie had great difficul

e Mrs. Raddick wasn't there. There wasn'

in the car whil

no! Hennie could stay. She couldn't bear

you," I murmured. "I'd very mu

iting." And suddenly her cheeks crimsoned, her eyes grew dark-for a moment I thought she was going to cry. "L-let me, please," she

l her soft young body in the blue dress-was like

OF MA

he asked after her grandson. Ma Parker stood on the doormat inside the dark little hall, and she stretched out h

abby dressing-gown and carried a crumpled newspaper in one hand. But he felt awkward. He could hardly go back to the warm sitting-room without

ir?" said old M

She bent her head and hobbled off to the kitchen, clasping the old fish bag that held her cleaning things and

he said aloud, helping

wn to take off her boots. To take off her boots or to put them on was an agony to her, but it had been an agony for years. In fact, she was so accustomed to the pain t

on her lap in his button boots. He'd j

ve made your gran's ski

nd her neck and rubbed

us a penny!

u; Gran ain't g

you

I a

'ave. Gi

g for the old, squashe

'll you giv

r. She felt his eyelid quivering against her

it over to the sink. The noise of the water drumming in the kettle deaden

the tea leaves now and again into a jam jar set aside for that purpose, and if he ran out of clean forks he wiped over one or two on the roller towel

ve got, get a hag in once a week

dge. She pitied the poor young gentleman for having no one to look after him. Out of the smudgy little window you could see an immense expanse of

oor. "Yes," she thought, as the broom knocked, "what with on

r leaning over the area railings, say among themselves, "She's had a hard life, has Ma Parker." And it was so true she wasn

was born in Stratford-on-Avon. Shakespeare, sir? No, people were always arsking

"Mother always 'ad 'er side of bacon, 'anging from the ceiling." And there was something-a bush, there was-at the front door, that

man. She used to snatch away her letters from home before she'd read them, and throw them in the range because they made her dreamy... And the beedles! Would you believe it?-until she

or's house, and after two years there, on the run from mo

onally he laid aside his tomes and lent an ear, at least, to this pr

r didn't l

trade," said

didn't loo

handing the new loa

eat deal. We had thirteen little ones and buried seven of them.

!" said the gentleman, shudderi

umption. It was flour on the lungs, the doctor told her at the time... Her husband sat up i

ock with white powder. Breathe, my good fellow!" And Mrs. Parker never knew for certain whether she sa

d she hadn't been there more than two months when she fell down a flight of steps and hurt her spine. And for five years Ma Parker had another baby-and such a one for crying!-to look after. Then young Maudie went wrong and took her siste

were cleaned with a piece of potato and finished off with a piece of cork. The tabl

urls he had, blue eyes, and a little freckle like a diamond on one side of his nose. The trouble she and Ethel had had to rear that ch

til was laid out for dead... After four bottils... g

ostal order on her way to work next morning. But it was no use. Nothing made little Lennie put it on. Taking

an's boy from

er to the smudgy window. And a little voice, so warm, so close, it half stifled her-i

of steps, and the literary gentle

arker, I'm

good

r half-crown in the

k you

rary gentleman quickly, "you didn't throw aw

firmly, "You'll always tell me when you throw things away-won't you, Mrs. Parker?" And he walked off very well pleased wi

tting, the thought of little Lennie was unbearable. Why did he have to suffer so? That's what she couldn't understand. Why sh

n't get rid of. When he coughed the sweat sprang out on his head; his eyes bulged, his hands waved, and the great lump bubbled as a potato knocks in a saucepan. Bu

is little scarlet ears. But Lennie moved his head and edged away. Dreadfully offended with her he looked-

kept herself to herself, and never once had she been seen to cry. Never by a living soul. Not even her own children had seen Ma break down. She'd kept a proud face always. But now! Lennie gone-wh

ed on her hat, put on her jacket and walked out of the flat like a person in a dream. She did not know what she was doing. She was

lked like scissors; the women trod like cats. And nobody knew-nobody cared. Even if she broke down,

beginning with her first place and the cruel cook, going on to the doctor's, and then the seven little ones, death of her husband, the children's leaving her, and all the years of misery that led up to Lennie.

a hard life, indeed! Her chin began to trembl

ch anywhere; people would come arsking her questions. She couldn't possibly go back to the gentleman's fl

d stay as long as she liked, not disturbing anybody, and nobody worrying her?

cy wind blew out her apron into a balloon.

IAGE A

lines on them. Their first words always were as they ran to greet him, "What have you got for me, daddy?" and he had nothing. He would have to buy them some swe

"I had red ribbing

"It's always pink o

n them something in five minutes. But nowadays they had Russian toys, French toys, Serbian toys-toys from God knows where. It was over a year since Isabe

y beginning. It saves so much time later on. Really, if the poor pets have to spend their infant years

to the Royal Academy was certa

. "When I was their age I used to go to b

at him, her eyes nar

ure you did!" She la

hange for the taxi-man. And he saw the kiddies handing the boxes round-they were awfully g

apple, for Pad, and a melon for Johnny? Isabel's friends could hardly go sneaking up to the nursery at the children's meal-times. All the same,

ame such a loud hissing from the engine that people looked dazed as they scurried to and fro. William made straight for a first-class smoker,

am pressed back his flattened hair and stretched his legs across the carriage floor. The familiar dull gnawing in

iam glanced up and saw the hot, bright station slipping away. A red-faced girl raced along by the carriages, there was something strained and almost desperate in the way she waved and called. "

trees. A wide river, with naked children splashing in the shallows, glided into sight and

nd the fields, the sky, the sailing bird, the water, all said, "Isabel." The same thing happened every Saturday afternoon. When he was on his way to meet Isabel there began those countless imaginary meetings. Sh

m," or "Hillo, William!" or "So William has c

bush over him. Isabel was that rose-bush, petal-soft, sparkling and cool. And he was still that little boy. But there was no running into the garden n

eir bedroom in the new house. Isabel sat on a painted stool before

he bent forward, and her fine

the room and he felt a stranger. At that I

I've changed. Just because I've got to know really congenial people, and go about more, and am frightfully keen on-on everything, you behave as though I'd-" Isabel tossed back

abe

I feel it," she said softly, "every time you come up the stairs. But we couldn't have gone on living in that

ard skin thrown over the sofa back, or they were playing shops with Isabel's desk for a counter, or Pad was sitting on the hearthrug rowing away for dear life wi

e curtains and a window-box of petunias. William met their friends at the

ted that inconvenient little house, that she thought the fat Nanny was ruining the babies, that she was desperately lonely, pining for new people and new music and pictures and so on. If they hadn't gone to that stu

g since disappeared. Now the other two got out. The late afternoon sun shone on women in cotton frocks and little sunburnt, barefoot children. It blazed on a silky yellow flower

hair in a plait; she looked about fourteen. Lord! how his nose used to peel! And the amount they ate, and the amount they slept in that immense feather be

l, standing just as he had imagined, apart from t

ught she looked so beautiful that he ha

xi's outside." She put her hand lightly on his arm as they passed the ticket collector. "We've

It was all he coul

wling on one side, their hats tilted over their faces, while on the othe

e! No ice!" sh

under his hat. "Only to be

rging, added, "Wit

een chasing round the town for ice while she waited for him. "Simply everythi

with butter," said Dennis. "May thy

how are we going to sit? I'd

u're to sit between Moira and me." The taxi starte

" said Bill Hunt, shud

pleased. "Wise William! A melon

ling. But he really was anxious. "I

d be rolling in agonies if they were to eat them. No"-she patted his hand-"

lung her arms across William appealingly. "Oh!" The s

taxi drew up before a little shop with a striped blin

re some round things which really look too divine. And just look at this nou

ned. Isabel gave the shopman a note, and Bobby was radiant again. "Hallo, William! I'm sitting by the driver." And

n who had one very short arm and one very long, thin one. Over the chairs and sofa there hung strips of black material, covered with big splashes like broken eggs, and everywhere one looked there seemed to be an ash-tray full of cigarette ends. William sat down in one of the arm-chairs. Nowadays, when one felt with one hand down the sides, it wasn't to come upon a sheep with three legs or a cow that had lost one horn, or a very fat dove out of the Noah's Ark. One fished up yet another little paper-covered boo

Moira to use her li

moan fr

e for the weekends that playe

not fair to William. Be nice to him, my childr

obby Kane. "I'm awfully go

d Bobby Kane, flapping his towel, began to leap and pirouette on the parched lawn. "Pity you didn't

, Isabel," called Bobby, "would you like

e're all starving. William's starving, too. Co

Moira, and she ran into the hall

x of Sardines," s

n?" asked Bill Hunt, drawing th

t much changed,"

id Bobby, very hearty

. Moira Morrison began wondering what co

alest, palest m

and changed plates, and found matches, smiling blissfully.

ill loudly, stuffing

table. It would be so fascin

g," he said rudely, "far too much yellow"; and wen

ed they could do nothing but yawn unt

he brought his suit-case down into the hall, Isabel left the others and went over to him. She stooped down and pick

said William. "Of cour

t to, really." They walked together silently

t's so short, isn't it? I feel you've only just come. Next time-" The taxi came into sight. "I hope they look after you properly in London. I'm so sorry the babies have been out a

k through the empty, blind-looking little to

o the corner, but this time he let the papers alone. He folded his arms against

airs under coloured parasols. Only Bobby Kane lay on the turf at

l be Mondays in Heaven?

d, "Heaven will be

to the salmon they had for supper last night. She h

scovery. "It's so wonderful. One simply shut

ong the sandy road on his tricycle one fel

and they all waited. But, heartless postman-O malignant worl

rom William," said

illiam-

k your marriage lines

iage lines? I thought the

at her! A Lady reading

am... ? How extraordinary it was... What could have made him... ? She felt confused, more and more excited, even frightened. It was just like William. Was it? It was

said the others. "

d the letter, and waved it at them. "Gather round," s

, precious Isabel." But she had hardly be

abel, it's

most marve

go on,

g, that I should be a

oh!

sh!

the end they were hysterical: Bobby

entire, for my new book," said Dennis fi

, "that wonderful bit abou

s in divorce cases were made u

me read it, mine own

he was laughing no longer. She glanced quickly at them all; she

knuckles and rocked to and fro. And again she saw them, but not four, more like forty, laughing, sneering, jeering, stretching out their hands while she read them William's letter. Oh, what a loathsome thing to have done. How coul

he garden below

all going for a

ou wife o

before you go,

stay here and write to William. Which, which should it be? "I must make up my mind.

a!" pip

a-b

write to William later. Some other time. Later. Not now

the new way, she r

HE V

uffled under Fenella's hat, and she put up her hand to keep it on. It was dark on the Old Wharf, very dark; the wool sheds, the cattle trucks, the cranes standing up so high, the little squat railway engine, all seemed carved out of soli

ped into a neat sausage, Fenella carried clasped to her her grandma's umbrella, and the handle, which was a swan's head, kept giving her shoulder a sharp little peck as if it too wanted her to hurry... Men, their caps pulled down, their collars turned up

th leapt, there sounded from behind the largest wool shed,

more ready to sail among stars than out into the cold sea. People pressed along the gangway. First went her grandma, then her father, then Fenella. There was a high step down on to the deck, and an old sailor in a

e!" said Fenella's father, giving g

you,

ot your cabin

, de

r other

inside her glove and

's ri

tired and sad. "Mia-oo-oo-O-O!" The second whistle blared just above t

ps say. And her grandma, very agitated, answered, "Of course

se Fenella saw her father take off his hat. He clasped grandma in his a

hat was worn through on her ring finger, against his ch

llowed once, twice, and frowned terribly at a little green star on

ld, wet moustache brushed her cheek. But Fe

hook her off gently, and gently said, "We'll see about that. Here! Where's your hand?

illed. Silently the dark wharf began to slip, to slide, to edge away from them. Now there was a rush of water between. Fenella strained to see with all her might. "Was that father turning round?"-or waving?-or standing alone?-or walking off by himself? The strip of water gre

she was sitting on them, her hands folded, her head a little on one side. There was an intent, bright look on her face. Then Fenella saw that her lips were moving and guessed that she was pra

r bonnet-strings, "I think we ought to see about ou

gran

in the stair rail. I saw a beautiful umbre

gran

od staring out to sea. The ship rocked ever so little, and she thought the stars rocked too. And now a pale steward in a linen coat, holding a tray high in the palm of his hand, stepped out of a lighted doorway and skimmed past them. They went through that d

aloon. It was glaring bright and stifling; the air smelled of paint and burnt chop-bones and indiarubber. Fenella wished her grandma would go on, but the

the sandwich

ude steward, slamming

uld hardly

each?" s

the steward, and he w

he further door and along a passage that had cabins on either side. Such a very nice stewardess came to meet them. She w

eir washstand. "We've got you back again.

But this time my dear

a long, mournful look at grandma's blackness and at Fenella's

"It was God's

ips and, taking a deep br

of us has to go, and that's a certingty." She paused. "Now, can I bring you anything, Mrs Cr

nk you. We've got a few wine biscuits

r on," said the stewardess, and

asping her luggage and the umbrella. Were they going to get undressed in here? Already her grandma had taken off her bonnet, and, rolling up the strings, she fixed each with a pin to the lining bef

eyebrows as she smiled tenderly and mournfully at Fenella. Then she undid her bodice, and something under that, and something else underneath that. Then there seemed a short, sharp tussle, and grandma fl

coat and skirt and put on her flannel

my boots, grand

. She kissed Fenella. "Don't forget to say your prayers. Our dear Lord is with us when we are at sea even more than whe

however will yo

woman gave a small silent laugh before she mounted them nimbl

hat, did you?" said she. And as she sank

simply had to tear your way in. If everything had been different, Fenella might have got the giggles... At last she was inside, and while she lay there panting, there

rdess came in; she trod softly and

tering the Str

O

t we're rather empty.

ng down again, and there was the sound of heavy water slapping against her sides. Fenella remembered she had left the swan-n

stewardess, laying down m

coming back to grandma, breathed, "Your litt

ed for that!"

ss. And grandma was still telling the stewardess

waving in the air above her head. What was it? What could it be? It was a small grey foo

grandma,"

ladder?" asked grandma. "

. I'll put your foot on it.

get up, child. You'd better have a bisc

it was cold. Peering through that round eye she could see far off some rocks. Now they were

r foot; she was trembling. Oh, it had all been so sad lately. Was it going to change? But all her grandma said was, "Make haste, child. I should leave your nice banana for the stew

e and fell. Now they could see quite plainly dark bush. Even the shapes of the umbrella ferns showed, and those strange silvery withered trees that are like skeletons... Now they could see the landing-st

ds the Picton boat, and a man holding a coil of rope, and a cart with

d pleased. Her white waxen cheeks were blue with cold, her chin tre

ve go

." Fenella sh

the little cart, and a moment later they were bowling away. The hooves of the little horse drummed over the wooden piles, then sank softly into the sandy ro

reddy. "He looked himself then. Missus kn

path of round white pebbles they went, with drenched sleeping flowers on either side. Grandma's delicate white picotees were so heavy with dew that they were fallen, but their sweet smell was part

Not a sound. She called, "Walter!" And immediately a deep voi

n there." She pushed Fenella gent

n sprang on to the tips of its toes. Fenella buried one cold little hand in the white, warm fur, and sm

to one side on an immense bed, lay grandpa. Just his head with a white tuft and his rosy

sed him. "Ugh!" said grandpa. "Her little nose is as cold as

n neck over the bed-rail. Above the bed t

One Gol

ixty Diamo

ard Is

s Gone F

e ruffled his white tuft and looked at Fenella

ISS

ear little thing! It was nice to feel it again. She had taken it out of its box that afternoon, shaken out the moth-powder, given it a good brush, and rubbed the life back into the dim little eyes. "What has been happening to me?" said the sad little eyes. Oh, how sweet it was to see them snap at her again from the red eiderdown!... But the nose, which was of some black composition, wasn't at all firm. It must have had a knock, somehow. Never mind-a l

like some one playing with only the family to listen; it didn't care how it played if there weren't any strangers present. Wasn't the conductor wearing a new coat, too? She was sure it was new. He scraped with his foot and flapped his arms like a rooster abou

t, with a roll of knitting on her embroidered apron. They did not speak. This was disappointing, for Miss Brill always looked forward to the conversation. She had

she'd gone on the whole time about how she ought to wear spectacles; she knew she needed them; but that it was no good getting any; they'd be sure to break and they'd never keep on. And he'd been so patient. He

nd laughing; little boys with big white silk bows under their chins, little girls, little French dolls, dressed up in velvet and lace. And sometimes a tiny staggerer came suddenly rocking into the open from under the trees, stopped, stared, as suddenly sat down "flop," until its small high-stepping mother, like a young hen, rushed scolding to its re

ves down drooping, and through them just a line of s

tiddle-um! tum tiddley-

ir was yellow. Now everything, her hair, her face, even her eyes, was the same colour as the shabby ermine, and her hand, in its cleaned glove, lifted to dab her lips, was a tiny yellowish paw. Oh, she was so pleased to see him-delighted! She rather thought they were going to meet that afternoon. She described where she'd been-everywhere, here, there, along by the sea. The day was so charming-didn't he agree? And wouldn't he, perhaps?... But he shook his head, lighted a cigarette, slowly breathed a great deep puff into her face, and even while she was still talking and laughing, flicked the match away and walked on. The ermine toque was alone; she smi

dy would have noticed if she hadn't been there; she was part of the performance after all. How strange she'd never thought of it like that before! And yet it explained why she made such a point of starting from home at just the same time each week-so as not to be late for the performance-and it also explained why she had quite a queer, shy feeling at telling her English pupils how she spent her Sunday afternoons. No wonder! Miss Brill nearly laughed out loud. She was on the stage. She thought of the old invalid gentleman to whom she read the newspaper four afte

in another moment all of them, all the whole company, would begin singing. The young ones, the laughing ones who were moving together, they would begin, and the men's voices, very resolute and brave, would join them. And then she too, she too, and the others on the benches-they would come in wi

ifully dressed; they were in love. The hero and heroine, of course, just arrived from his father's

aid the girl. "N

re?" asked the boy. "Why does she come here at all-who wa

nny," giggled the girl. "It's

e boy in an angry whisper. The

," said the g

slice, sometimes not. It made a great difference. If there was an almond it was like carrying home a tiny present-a surprise-something

wn on the red eiderdown. She sat there for a long time. The box that the fur came out of was on the bed. She unclasped the n

R FIRS

ared the cab with the Sheridan girls and their brother. She sat back in her own little corner of it, and the bolster on which her hand reste

l before, Leila? But, my child, how

en miles," said Leila softly, ge

loop of amber, Laura's little dark head, pushing above her white fur like a flower through snow. She would remember for ever. It even gave her a pang to see her cousin Laurie throw away the wis

said. "The third and th

le, she couldn't have helped crying because she was an only child, and no brother had ever said "Twig?" to her; no sister

them and cabs behind. The road was bright on either side with moving fan-like lights, and on the p

eila; you'll get

et's make a dash f

ked "Ladies." Here the crowd was so great there was hardly space to take off their things; the noise was deafening. Two benches on either side were stacked high with wraps.

t; it was dancing already. When the door opened again and there came a

andkerchiefs down the fronts of their bodices, smoothing marble-white gloves.

cried a voice. "How most extraordinary!

ere's a darling," c

ton. I've torn simply miles and m

s. Leila's fingers shook as she took one out of the basket. She wanted to ask some one, "Am I meant to have one too?" but she had just time to read: "Waltz 3. 'Two, Two in a Canoe

y; she forgot how in the middle of dressing she had sat down on the bed with one shoe off and one shoe on and begged her mother to ring up her cousins and say she couldn't go after all. And the rush of longing she had had to be sitting on the veranda of their forsaken up-country home, listening to the baby owls crying "More po

the other, and the chaperones in dark dresses, smiling rather foolishly, w

e to her. Find her partners; she's under my win

the girls. A tall, fair man flew up to Meg, seized her programme, scribbled something; Meg passed him on to Leila. "May I have the pleasure?" He ducked and smiled. There came a dark man wearing an eyeglass, then cousin Laurie with a friend, and Laura with a little freckled fellow whose tie was crooked. Then quite an old man-fat, with a big bald patch on his head-took her programme and murmured, "Let me see, let me see!" And he was a long time comparing his programme, which looked black with names, w

hall-with calico texts on the walls, the poor terrified little woman in a brown velvet toque with rabbit's ears thumping the cold piano, Miss Eccles poking the girls' feet with her long white wand-and this was so tremendous that Leila was sure if

; she hadn't to die after all. Some one's hand pressed her waist

n't it?" drawled a fain

t beautifully sli

id it again. And there was a tiny pause before the vo

ith girls and men, Leila decided. Girls banged into each other, and stampe

wers no longer; they were pin

me again. It sounded tired. Leila wondered wheth

my first danc

tle gasping laugh. "Oh

most fervent. It was such a relief to be able to tell somebody.

wall. Leila tucked her pink satin feet under and fanned herself, while she blis

eila?" asked Jose, no

tainly her partner did not say very much. He coughed, tucked his handkerchief away, pulled down his waistcoat, took a minute thread

hat her partners were not more interested. For it was thrilling. Her first ball! She was only at the beginning of everything. It seemed to her that she had never known what the night w

w cold the frosted spoon was, iced too! And when they came back to the hall there was the fat man waiting for her by the door. It gave her quite a shock again to see how old he was; he ought to have been on the stag

r, and they moved away so gently, it was more like walking than dancing. But

id you

zed faintly as he steered her past an awkward couple. "You see

d Leila. Twelve year

aid the fat man gloomily. Leila looked at hi

ous to be still going

y arms will have turned into little short fat ones, and you'll beat time with such a different kind of fan-a black bony one." The fat man seemed to shudder. "And you'll smile away like the poor old dears up there, and point to your daughter, and tell the elderly lady next to you how some dreadful man tried to kiss her

as this first ball only the beginning of her last ball, after all? At that the music seemed to change; it sounded sad, sad; i

in a breathless voice. The

ned against the wall, tapping with her foot, pulling up her gloves and trying to smile. But deep

fat man, "you mustn't take

, tossing her small dark hea

. But Leila didn't want to dance any more. She wanted to be home, or sitting on the veranda listening to

d into the middle; very haughtily she put her hand on his sleeve. But in one minute, in one turn, her feet glided, glided. The lights, the azaleas, the dresses, the pink faces, the velvet chairs,

SINGIN

of all ages, rosy from the air, and bubbling over with that gleeful excitement that comes from running to school on a fine autumn morning, hurried, skipped, fluttered by; from the hollow class-r

stress stopped

her sweet, affected drawl. "Isn

ss. Everything about her was sweet, pale, like honey. You wold not have

arp," said Miss

miled her s

yes opened wide; there came a mocking li

s, and she gave the Science Mistress, in exchang

niments. She was turning the music stool. When she saw Miss Meadows she gave a loud, warning "Sh-sh! girls!" and Miss Meadows, her hands thrust in her sleeves, the baton under her

hair-bows, and music-books outspread. She knew perfectly well what they were thinking. "Meady is in a wax." Well, let them think it! Her eyelids quivered; she tossed her

possible for me to love any woman, but, truth to tell, I have come to the conclusion that I am not a marrying man, and the idea

llow chrysanthemum. This little ritual of the flower had been gone through for ages and ages, quite a term and a half. It was as much part of the lesson as opening the piano. But this morning, instead of taking it up, instead of tucking it into her belt while she lea

d in her eyes, but Miss Meadows was gone back to the

o know it by this time. We shall take it all together; not in parts, all together. An

ame Mary on the opening chord; down came all those left hands,

ast Fade the Ro-

ields unto Wi

leetly Mu-u-si

from the Lis

a mistake... " she beat. And the voices cried: "Fleetly! Ah, Fleetly." What could have possessed him to write such a letter! What could have led up to it! It came out of nothing. His last letter had been all about a fumed-oak bookcase he had bought for "our" book

help shuddering. "Fade the Roses of Pleasure." Last time he had come to see her, Basil had worn a rose in his buttonhole. How handsome he had looked in that bright

to dinner. It's a perfect nuisance. I neve

n't you

do for a man in my pos

aved in the wind. They had lost half their leaves. The tiny ones that clung wriggled like fishe

ied Miss Meadows. "That ought to break out-a loud, strong forte-a lament. And then in the second line, 'Winter Drear,' make that 'Drear' sound as if a cold wind were blowing through it. 'Dre-ear!'" said she so awfully that Mary Beazley, on the music stool, wriggled her spine. "The third line should be one cres

off. Broken off! Their engagement! People had been surprised enough that she had got engaged. The Science Mistress would not believe it at first. But nobody had been as surprised as she. She was thirty. Basil was twenty-five. It had been a mir

iss Meadows. "More expre

ones began to cry. Big spots of rain blew against the windows, and one

nough to scratch out that word "disgust," so that she couldn't read it! "Soon Autumn yields unto Winter Drear." She would have to leave the school, too. She could never fa

le, hanging her head, biting her lips, and twisting the silver bangle on

nica, wha

the little girl, gasping, "Miss Wyatt

put you on your honour to talk quietly while I am away." But they were

ook up. She was as usual disentangling her eyeglasses, which had got caught in her lace tie. "Sit down, Miss Meadows," she said very

m for me,

ut, but Miss Wyatt held the telegram back a moment. "I hope it's not b

ad, bought hat-stand to-day-Basil," she read.

very serious," said Miss

ologetic little laugh-"it's from my fiance saying that... saying that-" There was a pause. "I see," said

he got up. She half

grams sent to them in school hours, unless in case of very bad news, such as death," explained Miss Wyatt, "

s Meadows sped back to the music hall, up

ow chrysanthemum, she held it to her lips to hide her smile. Then she turned t

To-day with Fl

f Fruit and Ri

ongratu

think of what you're singing. Use your imaginations. 'With Flowers o'erladen. Baskets of Fruit and Ribbons to boot.' And 'Congratulate.'" Miss Me

sounded over all the other voices-

HE ST

gulls screaming and diving after the galley droppings at the stern. You could just see little couples parading-little flies walking up and down the dish on the grey crinkled tablecloth. Other f

arf, thick gloves and dark felt hat, marched up and down, twirling his folded umbrella. He seemed to be the leader of the li

t to bring any glasses! There wasn't a pai

ble to stir 'em up a bit. We might have managed a little signalling. 'Don't hesitat

s. Hammond was on that boat, and that he was so tremendously excited it never entered his head not to believe that this marvellous fact meant something to them too. It warmed his heart towards them. They were, he dec

myself. So I thought I'd better come and fetch her back. Yes, yes, yes." The shrewd grey eyes narrowed again and searched anxiously, quickly, the motionless

That is to say, the doctor's been gone two hours and thirteen minutes. Two hours and thirteen minutes! Whee-ooh!" He gave a queer li

-anything to worry about," said Mr. Gaven, knocking out

. Scott and Mr. Gaven. "It's getting quite dark, too," and he waved his folded umbrella as though the dusk at least might have had the decenc

tea, mammy!

rd would bring her up a cup. If he'd been there he'd have got it for her-somehow. And for a moment he was on deck, standing over her, watching her little hand fold round the cup in the way she had, while she drank the only cup of tea to be got on board... But now he was back here, and the Lord only knew when that cursed Captain would stop hang

ung the little girl on to a higher barrel. The movement of holding

aid, keeping an

out Jean, Mr. Hammo

rouble. It's a pleasure. Jean's a l

n, and she ran her finger do

nd gave a loud scream. "Lo-ok, Mr. Hammo

ls rose; they fluttered away like bits of white paper. And whether that deep throbbing was her engines or his heart Mr. Hammond couldn't say. He had to nerve

r." He was just in time. Mr. Hammond had forgotten ab

rvous voice rang out again, "y

zed old Captain Johnson, staring at the line

the harbour-master's side. "Mrs. Hammon

ngs curled to either side. Hammond and the harbour-master kept in front of the rest. Hammond took off his hat; he raked the decks-they were crammed with passengers; h

asked the ha

umbrella-he saw a hand raised-a white glove shaking a handkerchief. Another moment, and-thank God, thank God!-there she was.

cigar-case and offered it to old Captain Johnson. "Have a cigar, Captain! They're pretty good. Have a couple!

ond!" wheezed old

ng him, ready for him. It struck him, as the gulf of water closed, how small she looked on that huge ship. His heart was wrung with such a spasm that he could have cried out. How little she looked to have come

the voices on board fl

l w

l w

s mot

h be

lo,

, Aun'

good

len

be lon

long

d. Slowly she edge

a sweeping run. Hammond signed to Janey to stay where she was. The old harbour-master steppe

he old man's heels, he strode up the gangway on to the deck

mered. It was all he could say. And Janey emerged, and her

! Have you bee

ff. Was her luggage ready? In that case they could cut off sharp with her cabin luggage and let the rest go hang until to-morrow. He bent over her and s

children, Joh

Perfectly well. Never

hey sent m

left them at the hotel f

all understanding squeeze. "If the Captain comes off the bridge I want you to thank him for having looked after your wife so beautifully." Well,

nd! And next time you're i

You won't forget to w

what this boat would

ey all over; standing there with her veil thrown back. Hammond never noticed what his wife had on. It was all the same to him whatever she wore. But to-day he did notice

then: "I want to

o well-that was so strange to him; to part the green curtains after her and to step into the cabin that had been

d," said the stewardess, risi

ng business over, he supposed. He sat down on the striped sofa and took his hat off. There were the rugs she had taken with her; they lo

over. He felt he could have sat there for ever sighing his relief-the relief at being rid of that horri

Janey's head came

just want to go and say

ed up. "I'll

't bother. I'd rather no

one. He had half a mind to run after

to go chasing after the ship's doctor? She could have sent a note from the hotel even if the affair had been urgent. Urgent? Did it-could it mean that she had been ill on the voyage-she was keeping something from him? That

Janey was back. He

been ill on this

he stepped over the rugs, and came up clos

me. Of course I haven't! Whatever m

t him and that there was no need to worry about anything. She w

s so calming that he put his over

u've had your beard beautifully trimmed, and you look-younger,

always, he had the feeling that he was holding something that never was quite hi

at we can be by ourselves!" And he rang the bell

h-to tell the driver to hurry because neither of them had had any tea. No more going without his tea or pouring out his own. She was back. He turned to her, squeezed her hand, and said gently, tea

he's a nice, attentive girl. And I thought now we were here we wouldn't bother to go home to-morrow, but spend the day looking round and leave the morning after. Does

tickets for the da

d a first-class carriage to Cooktown. There it is-'Mr. and Mrs. John Hammond.' I thought we might as well do ours

t for the world! The day after to

in the broad, brilliantly-lighted porch. He came down t

d, here's Mrs. H

risk interruption; he looked neither to the right nor the left. They could think what they pleased. If they didn't understand, the more fools they-and he stepped out of the lift, unlocked the door of their r

eys of it, leaving the door open in between, taking his time, whistling through his teeth in the corridor. Hammond pac

on her-"let's have dinner up here. If we go down to the restaurant we'll be interrupted, and then there's the confounded music" (the music he'd praised so highly, applauded so loudly last nig

y. "And while you're awa

n will do!"

ver," said Janey. "And

nd. "I'll just ring and give the order..

k her head

ng about something," said Hammond. "What is it? Come

, and she went over to the dressing-

t is

l keep. No hurry now!" She turned to him, clasping them. She tucked them into her fri

e matter with i

the big bottle of hair tonic, the wicker bottle of eau-de-Cologne, the two hair

t's talk. Let's get down to things. Tell me"-and as Janey perched on his knees he leaned

g, I am glad

Would he always have this craving-this pang like hunger, somehow, to make Janey so much part of him that there wasn't any of her to escape? He wanted to blot out everybody, everythin

" he wh

, but so lightly, so remotely. The

an

t is

, deep flush flowed into his foreh

tly-kissing them as she always kissed him, as though the kiss-how could he describe it?-confirmed what they were saying, si

like-waiting to-day. I thought the boat never would come

from him at the fire. The flames hurrie

said Hammond, and he

e said, "one of the passengers died last night-a man. That's what held us up. We brought him

. He hated this to have happened. It was, in some queer way, as

rcely above her breath. "It was heart." A pause. "Poor fellow!" she said. "Quite y

e couldn't breathe. He felt all his strength flowing-flowing into the big dark

dully. "What's

"He just"-and Hammond saw her lift her gentle hand-"

here?" Hammond

was alone

t was she doing to him! This would k

ard for the doctor, but the doctor was too l

why you?" mo

ed quickly, quickl

" she asked. "You don't-It's n

t of smile at her. Somehow or other he stamme

John d

me,

very ill when he came on board... But he seemed to be so much better until yesterday. He had a severe at

idn't the

What would he have felt? And besides... he

red Hammond. "Didn

ftly. "All the time I was with him he was too we

, so soft, so chill, seemed to hover in t

mense, glittering. It filled his whole world. There was the great blind bed, with his coat flung across it like some headless m

nd yet he died in Janey's arms. She-who'd never-never once

thinking of it. No, he wouldn't face it. He

with her fingers. She pinched

g? It hasn't made you sad? It hasn't spoi

face. He put his face into her

ir being alone together! They wo

ANK H

, his face hidden under a felt hat like a broken wing, breathes into a flute; and a tall thin fellow, with bursting over-ripe button boots, draws ribbons-long, twisted, streaming ribbons-of tune out of a fiddle. They stand, unsmiling, but n

ikes to watch her little frightened face, and her puzzled eyes lifted to his: "Aren't they a price!" He pushes out his chest and grins. Old fat women in velvet bodices-old dusty pin-cushions-lean old hags like worn umbrellas with a quivering bonnet on top; young women, in muslins, with hats that might have grown on hedges, and high pointed shoes; men in khaki, sailors, shabby cler

d there wasn't so much as you c

s they can get, their hands behind their backs, their eyes big. Occasionally a leg hops, an arm

whispers a small gi

together again, and again breaks, and is dissolved,

of the road th

? Tickle 'em up, boys." Little soft brooms on wire

wog! Tuppenc

ng donkey! A

g gum. Buy someth

e 'er a rose, bo

feathers, emerald green, scarlet, bright blue, canary yellow.

final parting advice, the only way of saving yourself or of bringing

e men and women feel it burning their backs, their breasts and their arms; they feel their bodies expanding, coming alive.

in the yellow water. It looks solid, like a jelly, in the thick glasses. Why can't they drink it without

ster. Little tongues lick, lick round the cream trumpets, round the squares. The cover is

an, clasping and unclasping her dark claws. Her face, a treasure of delicate carving, is tied in a gr

e of a blonde woman." Look out! Look out! A motor-car driven by a fat chauffeur comes rushing down th

aken away from me and a heavy imprisonment." He holds the licence across his chest; the sweat pours down his face into his paper

he holds up a lace parasol; he sucks the knob of his cane, and the fat old bodies roll together

he stands, smiling encouragement, like a clumsy dentist. When the big men, romping and swearing a moment before, hand across their sixpence, and stand before him, they are suddenly serious, d

mother sits on the pavement edge with her baby, and the father brings her out a glass of dark, brownish stuff, and then

han ever. Outside the two swing-doors there is a thick

st into the light and heat, shouting, laughing, squealing, as though they were being pushed by something,

IDEAL

gh the late sun was still shining, curiously cold, with a numbed feeling all over. Quite suddenly he hadn't the energy, he hadn't the heart to stand this gaiety and bright movement any longer; it confused him. He wanted to stand still, to wave it away with his stick, to say, "Be off with you!" Suddenly it was a terrible effort to greet as usual-tipping his wide-awake with his stick-all the people whom he knew, the friends, acquaintances, shopkeepers, postmen, drivers. But the g

e been? What had he been up to? He wasn't going to let his father know. Old Mr. Neave had happened to be in the vestibule, saying good-bye to a ca

ome forgiving ever since the time when he was thirteen and he had stolen his mother's purse, taken the money, and hidden the purse in the cook's bedroom. Old Mr. Neave struck sharply with his stick upon the pavement edge. But it wasn't only his family who spoiled Harold, he reflected, it was everybody; he had only to look and to smile, and d

stopped dead under a group of ancient cabbage palms outside the Government buildings! Enjoying himself! The wind of evening shook the dark leaves to a thin airy cackle. Sittin

akes it very awkward for us when people persist in saying how tired you're looking. Here's this huge house

y, "All men ought to have hobbies. It

ungalow, and their horses, and their golf, and the sixty-guinea gramophone in the music-room for them to dance to. Not that he grudged them these things. No, they were smart, good-looking girls, and Charlotte was a remarkable woman; it was natural for them to be in th

eal family. It's like something one

e of those; I think you'll like them. And if you care to smoke

married anybody. But they had too good a time at home. They were too hap

nted house, with its wide-open windows, its tulle curtains floating outwards, its blue jars of hyacinths on the broad sills. On either side of the carriage porch their hydrangeas-famous in the town-were coming into flower; the pinkish,

the oak chests. From the music-room sounded the piano, quick, loud and

e from Charlotte. Then the

aw such ices. Only two kinds. And one a common li

r was too appalling

early for ices," s

has them at all

darling," cro

Lola dashed out. She started, she nearly

me! Have you just come home? Why isn't Cha

ghter; he felt he had never seen her before. So that was Lola, was it? But she seemed to have forgotten her father; it was not for him that she was waiting there. Now she put the tip of her crumpled handkerchief betw

topped the rocker and offered her warm plum-like cheek. Brigh

ack, father?" a

r. Neave, and he sank into one o

?" said Ethel. "There are hund

efers to tire himself out, I really don't se

ildren?" coax

he laughed her hard, bright laugh and patted her hair in a mirror. Strange! When she was a little girl she had such a soft, hesitating voic

before you, dear?" asked Char

Neave. "I'm not sure. I didn'

" began C

over the leaves of some paper or other, ran

s what I mean, mummy. Yellow, with

on, gave the page a little dab with her plump small fingers, and pursed up her lips. "Very sweet

thel tragically. "But the

aper playfully from Charlotte. "I agree with mother,

t; he had lost his hold. Even Charlotte and the girls were too much for him to-night. They were too... too... But all his drowsing brain could think of wa

ss to-night,"

you say

ith a start and stared across at them.

le coming, and Henry Davenpo

so very out of

u feel we

any effort. What

lly not up to it,"

p and went to join that little old climbing

te of his ever since as a little red-faced boy he had come into the house to look after the fires. Old Mr. Neave lowered himself into the cane lounge by the window, stre

of the mower. Soon the girls would begin their tennis parties again. And at the thought he seemed to hear Marion's voice ring out, "Good for you, partner... Oh, played, p

the comb from young Charles, and carefully combed the white beard over. Char

" The door shut, he sa

ess flights that led to a glittering, gay dining-room. Wh

l family, sir,

, it was no good expecting anything from Harold. Down, down went the little old spider, and then, to his horror, old Mr. Neave saw

there floated far-away voices, far-away sounds. Perhaps, he thought vaguely, he had been asleep for a long time. He'd been forgotten. What had all this to do with hi

nful, as though it understood. Small, warm arms were round his neck. A face,

they said good-bye? There had been some terrible mistake. She was his wi

n the light, put his hands by his side and shouted

m coming," said

E LADY

ou, madam. You weren't asleep-were you? But I've just given my lady

r some one new has been to see us and my lady says afterwards, "Ellen, give me my little red book," I feel quite wild, I do. "There's another," I think, "keeping her out of her bed in all weathers." And she won't have a cushion, you know, madam; she kneels on the hard carpet. It fidgets me something dreadful to see her, knowing her as I do. I've tried to cheat her; I've spread out the eiderdown. But the first time I did it-oh, she gave me such a look-holy it

d just to one side of her neck I put a bunch of most beautiful purple pansies. Those pansies made a picture of her, madam! I shall ne

t keep still, she couldn't settle. All day long she'd be up and down, up and down; you'd meet her everywhere,-on the stairs, in the porch, making for the kitchen. And she'd look up at you, and she'd say-just like a child, "I've

ke at the end. Last words she ever said was-very s

ather, who kept a hair-dresser's shop. I used to spend all my time in the shop under a table dressing my doll's hair-copying the assistants, I suppose. They were ever so kind to me. Used to ma

in bits, like the little monkey I was. Grandfather was furious! He caught hold of the tongs-I shall never forget it-grabbed m

er so solemn with the penny grandfather gave me to hold while it was being done... But he always took the penny back afterwards. Poor grandfather! Wild, he was, at the fright I'd made of myself. But he frightened me that time. Do you know what I

is dinner, even, if I was there. So my aunt took me. She was a cripple, an upholstress. Tiny! She ha

my uniform, and one thing and another. My lady put me into collars and cuffs from the first. Oh yes-once I did! That was-funny! It

those donkeys were! They were the first I'd seen out of a cart-for pleasure as you might say. They were a lovely silver-grey, with little red saddles and blue bridles and bells jing-a-jingling on their ears. And quite big girls-older than me, even-were ri

ent to bed-I was sleeping in Mrs. James's bedroom, our cook that was, at the time-as soon as the lights was out, there they were, my donkeys, jingling along, with their neat little feet and sad eyes... Well, madam, would you believe it, I waited for a long time and pretended to be

of course, madam, just dreaming, as you might say. I've done it for Christmas-motto in holly, and all-and I've had my Easter lilies with a gorgeous star all daffodils in the middle. I've hung-well, that's enough of that. The day came he was to call for me to choose the furniture. Shall I ever forget it? It was a Tuesday. My lady wasn't quite herself that afternoon. Not that she'd said anything, of course; she never does or will. But I knew by the way that she kept wrapping herself up and asking me if it was cold-and her little nose looked... pinched. I didn't like leaving her; I knew I'd be worrying all the time. At last I asked her if she'd rather I put it off. "Oh no, Ellen," she said, "you mustn't mind about me. You mustn't disappoint your young man." And so cheerful, you know, madam, never thinking about he

time for a word. "There you are," I said. "Take them all back," I said, "it's all over. I'm not going to marry you," I said, "I can't leave my lady." White! he turned as white as a woman. I had to slam the door, and there I stood, all of a tremble, till I

ght to have stopped me... Can I tuck in your feet? I always tuck in my lady's feet, every night, just the same. And

any one-is it, madam? Thinking won't help. Not that I do it often. And if ever I do I pull myself up sharp, "N