Why, there now! cried Mrs. Mutimer, pleased to see her son. If I wasnt saying not five minutes ago as Dick was likely to come some day in the week! Wasnt I, Alice? Whatll you have for your tea? Theres some chops all ready in the ouse, if youd care for them.
Richard was not in a cheerful mood. He made no reply immediately, but went and stood before the fireplace, as he had been accustomed to do in the old kitchen.
Will you have a chop? repeated his mother.
No; I wont eat just yet. But you can give me a cup of tea.
Mrs. Mutimer and Alice exchanged a glance, as the former bent over the teapot. Richard was regarding his brother askance, and it resulted in a question, rather sharply put
Have you been to work to-day?
Arry would have lied had he dared; as it was, he made his plate revolve, and murmured, No; he adnt.
Why not?
I didnt feel well, replied the youth, struggling for self-confidence and doing his best to put on an air of patient suffering.
Richard tapped his tea-cup and looked the look of one who reserves discussion for a more seasonable time.
Daniel called last night, remarked Mrs. Mutimer. He says he wants to see you. I think its something particular; he seemed disappointed you werent at the meeting on Sunday.
Did he? Ill see if I can get round to-night. If you like to have something cooked for me about eight oclock, mother, he added, consulting his watch, I shall be ready for it then.
He turned to his brother again.
Is there a class to-night? No? Very well, when theyve cleared away, get your books out and show me what youve been doing. What are you going to do with yourself, Alice?
The two addressed, as well as their mother, appeared to have some special cause for embarrassment. Instead of immediately replying, Alice played with crumbs and stole glances on either side.
Me and Arry are going out, she said at length, with a rather timid smile and a poise of the head in pretty wilfulness.
Not Arry, Richard observed significantly.
Why not? came from the younger Mutimer, with access of boldness.
If youre not well enough to go to work you certainly dont go out at night for your pleasure.
But its a particular occasion, explained Mice, leaning back with crossed arms, evidently prepared to do battle. A friend of Arrys is going to call and take us to the theatre.
Oh, indeed! And what friend is that?
Mrs. Mutimer, who had been talked over to compliance with a project she felt Richard would not approveshe had no longer the old authority, and spent her days in trying to piece on the present life to the formerfound refuge in a habit more suitable to the kitchen than the dining-room; she had collected all the teaspoons within reach and was pouring hot-water upon them in the slop-basin, the familiar preliminary to washing up.
A genleman as lives near here, responded Arry. He writes for the newspapers. His names Keene.
Oh? And how came you to know him?
Met him, was the airy reply.
And youve brought him here?
Well, hes been here once.
He said as he wanted to know you, Dick, put in Mrs. Mutimer. He was really a civil-spoken man, and he gave Arry a lot of help with his books.
When was he here?
Last Friday.
And to-night he wants to take you to the theatre?
The question was addressed to Alice.
It wont cost him anything, she replied. He says he can always get free passes.
No doubt. Is he coming here to fetch you? I shall be glad to see him.
Richards tone was ambiguous. He put down his cup, and said to Alice
Come and let me hear how you get on with your playing. Alice followed into the drawing-room. For the furnishing of the new house Richard had not trusted to his own instincts, but had taken counsel with a firm that he knew from advertisements. The result was commonplace, but not intolerable. His front room was regarded as the Princesss peculiar domain; she alone dared to use it freelydeclined, indeed, to sit elsewhere. Her mother only came a few feet within the door now and then; if obliged by Alice to sit down, she did so on the edge of a chair as near to the door as possible. Most of her time Mrs. Mutimer still spent in the kitchen. She had resolutely refused to keep more than one servant, and everything that servant did she all Alices objections she opposed an obstinate silence. What herself performed over again, even to the making of beds. To was the poor woman to do? She had never in her life read more than an occasional paragraph of police news, and could not be expected to take up literature at her age. Though she made no complaint, signs were not wanting that she had begun to suffer in health. She fretted through the nights, and was never really at peace save when she anticipated the servant in rising early, and had an honest scrub at saucepans or fireirons before breakfast. Her main discomfort came of the feeling that she no longer had a house of her own; nothing about her seemed to be her property with the exception of her old kitchen clock, and one or two articles she could not have borne to part with. From being a rather talkative woman she had become very reticent; she went about uneasily, with a look of suspicion or of fear. Her children she no longer ventured to command; the secret of their wealth weighed upon her, she was in constant dread on their behalf. It is a bad thing for one such as Mrs. Mutimer to be thrown back upon herself in novel circumstances, and practically debarred from the only relief which will avail herfree discussion with her own kind. The result is a species of shock to the system, sure to manifest itself before long in one or other form of debility.
Alice seated herself at the piano, and began a finger exercise, laboriously, imperfectly. For the first week or two it had given her vast satisfaction to be learning the piano; what more certain sign of having achieved ladyhood? It pleased her to assume airs with her teachera very deferential ladyto put off a lesson for a fit of languidness; to let it be understood how entirely time was at her command. Now she was growing rather weary of flats and sharps, and much preferred to read of persons to whom the same nomenclature was very applicable in the books she obtained from a circulating library. Her reading had hitherto been confined to the fiction of the penny papers; to procure her pleasure in three gaily-bound volumes was another evidence of rise in the social scale; it was like ordering your wine by the dozen after being accustomed to a poor chance bottle now and then. At present Alice spent the greater part of her day floating on the gentle milky stream of English romance. Her brother was made a little uneasy by this taste; he had not studied the literature in question.
At half-past six a loud knock at the front door announced the expected visitor. Alice turned from the piano, and looked at her brother apprehensively. Richard rose, and established himself on the hearthrug, his hands behind him.
What are you going to say to him, Dick? Alice asked hurriedly.
He says he wants to know me. I shall say, Here I am.
There were voices outside. Arry had opened the door himself, and now he ushered his acquaintance into the drawing-room. Mr. Keene proved to be a man of uncertain agehe might be eight-and-twenty, but was more probably ten years older. He was meagre, and of shrewd visage; he wore a black frock coatrather shiny at the backand his collar was obviously of paper. Incipient baldness endowed him in appearance with a noble forehead; he carried eye-glasses.