The Girls of Chequertrees
*CHAPTER XIII*
*MR JOSEPH SIGGLESTHORNE FORGETS THE DATE*
The journey to town was accomplished swiftly and comfortably, and wasenlivened every now and then by Martha's remarks on the changes that hadcome over the country they passed through in the train since she was agirl. She made a quaint little figure in her black bonnet, trimmed withjet beads, and her best black cape with the silk fringe round it, andher black serge skirt. Her kindly grey eyes and wrinkled face werealight with interest as she sat beaming and chatting with Beryl andPamela, while Caroline steadily knitted, and Isobel in the farthercorner gazed out of the window. Although she liked Martha well enough,she rather wished that Miss Crabingway had sent the four of them to townalone.
When they arrived at Marylebone station the girls learnt to theirsurprise that Martha had never been in the tube railway in her life, andwas somewhat chary and suspicious of this mode of travelling; however,encouraged by Pamela and Beryl, who each linked hold of one of her arms,she was persuaded to enter the lift, which she mistook at first for thetrain, until matters were explained to her.
They changed at Charing Cross on to the District Railway and were soonat the Temple Station, and after one or two inquiries at length foundthemselves walking up Middle Temple Lane _en route_ for Fig Tree Court.
It is not one of the prettiest courts, Fig Tree Court, although it hassuch a picturesque name. There is no fig-tree growing there now, thoughif there had been one Mr Sigglesthorne would not have been able to seeit, as his windows were so begrimed with dust and dirt that nothing wasclearly visible through them. The window-cleaners, if ever he employedthem, must surely have charged him three times the usual amount to gethis windows clean again. As for Martha, directly she set eyes on themher hands itched to get hold of a wash-leather.
Mr Sigglesthorne lived on the first floor, and they were soon outsidethe door with his name printed on it in large black letters. Pamelaknocked with a double rat-tat. All was silent within for a few moments,then the creak of an inner door and a shuffling step could be heard.The latch clicked and the front door was opened just enough for a handand arm to be thrust out.
The five visitors stood gazing in silent surprise at the open hand--ahand obviously waiting for something to be placed in its grasp. Theystood thus, looking first at the hand and then at each other, and Isobelwas just about to laugh outright when a voice behind the door exclaimedimpatiently:
"Hurry up, milkman! Half-pint, as usual."
At this Isobel could control herself no longer, but burst out laughing,and the others, unable to resist, joined in as well.
This caused the door to be opened wider, and a very shocked andsurprised Mr Joseph Sigglesthorne was revealed, who stared open-mouthedin pained astonishment at the laughing group outside.
Pamela was the first to recover herself. "Oh, Mr Sigglesthorne," shesaid, "I'm so sorry--please excuse us, but Miss Crabingway told us tocome and give you this letter."
"Well, to be sure! But please excuse me--I was so--if I may sayso--taken aback for the moment--" stammered Mr Sigglesthorne. "Butplease to step inside--step inside." He held the door open wide.
The five visitors stepped inside as requested, almost filling up thenarrow little passage from which the two rooms of Mr Sigglesthorne'sflat opened. Mr Sigglesthorne closed the front door, and led the way tohis living-room, begging them all to come in and be seated. He wasstill rather bewildered by the suddenness of his visitors' appearance,and was thrown into confusion on finding that there was only one chairin the room that was not too rickety to be used. He handed this withgreat politeness to Pamela, who promptly passed it on to Martha, who wastoo respectful to think of sitting down till all the others had foundseats.
"It's quite all right," said Pamela. "May I sit on this box? Thanks.It'll do splendidly. You sit down, Martha--you'll be tired."
Finally, an old oak chest being cleared of numberless papers and booksand brought forward for Isobel and Caroline, and a pile of six bigEncyclopaedias placed one on top of the other serving as a seat forBeryl, Mr Sigglesthorne sat down on the corner of the coal-scuttle,comforting himself with the thought that things might have beenworse--although he wished he had not left his bunch of collars on themantelshelf. Strange that this should have worried him, for on thewhole the mantelshelf was the least untidy part of the room.
Martha's neat and tidy soul positively ached when she looked round MrSigglesthorne's living-room. One of the first things she noticed was abig round table in the centre of the room on which were stacked booksand papers in a litter of untidiness and confusion; there were severalbundles of newspapers, and cardboard boot-boxes without lids, containinga variety of interesting articles from press-cuttings and collar-studsto india-rubber and knots of string. On the top of the highest pile ofpapers reposed Mr Sigglesthorne's top-hat. The table was so litteredthat it was impossible to think of it ever being used for any otherpurpose than that of a home of refuge for old papers. Underneath thetable, partly obscured by the faded green table-cloth that hung allaslant, was a Tate sugar-box containing--what? Coal, probably--butMartha could not be quite sure of that. Bookshelves lined the walls,and here again confusion reigned. Hardly a single book stood upright; afew, here and there, made a faint appearance of doing so, but for themost part they had given up the struggle long ago and just sprawledacross the shelves anyhow--some upside down, some back tofront--separated every few yards by some useful kitchen utensil, such asa toasting-fork, a small hand-brush, a pepper-box, a shovel, a couple ofsaucepan lids, and so on. There were no books at all on one of theshelves, but a mass of letters and envelopes filled the space. A brokenrocking-chair beneath one of the two windows that lighted the room helda box of tools and Mr Sigglesthorne's topcoat, and the desk under theother window supported a tray with the remnants of a chop on a plate, acup half full of cold coffee, and a tin of condensed milk with a spoonsticking out of it; two inkpots and a blotting-pad, and numerous pens,pencils, notebooks, and stacks of papers occupied the rest of the desk.In the hearth were a pair of old boots, a teapot, and three bundles offirewood.
It looked as if Mr Sigglesthorne was in the habit of placing things downjust wherever he happened to be at the moment--which was handy at thetime, but caused much confusion and delay in the long run; though it mayhave added a little variety to his life to find his belongings where heleast expected them.
Mr Sigglesthorne, with his Shakespearean forehead shining in adistinguished manner, sat on the coal-scuttle polishing his glasses andgazing nervously round at his guests. His black velvet jacket, minus abutton, wanted brushing, and his dark grey trousers were creased andbaggy; altogether he looked shabby and unimposing--except for hisforehead, which just, as it were, kept his head above water.
"Now, if I may be permitted to see Miss Crabingway's note?" he said."You must excuse my room being slightly untidy--a bachelor's misfortune,you know, Miss Pamela."
"What a lot of books you have," said Pamela.
"Are you a lawyer?" asked Isobel.
"Heaven forbid!" said Mr Sigglesthorne. "No, miss. But I am rathera--bookworm. Ha! Ha! Yes, that's what I am--a bookworm."
This idea seemed to afford him much private amusement, until putting onhis glasses and opening Miss Crabingway's note his eyes fell on thecontents, and he at once became grave. It was just as if MissCrabingway were standing before him, speaking.
"Well, Joseph Sigglesthorne," the note ran, "so you have forgotten, as Iknew you would. There is no excuse--I gave you three calendars, whichyou have not hung on the wall, by the by, but have stowed away out ofsight--you've forgotten where."
(This was quite true, as Mr Sigglesthorne realized, as he stroked theback of his head and tried to recall what he had done with thecalendars.)
"The money I trusted you with is overdue. Kindly hand the deal box andkey to Miss Pamela there, and ask her to take out the notes."
"Ah, yes," said Mr Sigglesthorne aloud, as if M
iss Crabingway wereindeed in the room waiting for him to apologize. "Very thoughtless ofme, I'm sure."
It may be thought remarkable that Mr Sigglesthorne should haveremembered where the deal box was. But Mr Sigglesthorne alwaysremembered where he had put money--a peculiarity of his that MissCrabingway knew well.
And now he was full of remorse at having failed Miss Crabingway inregard to the date--for she had paid him well to remember. MrSigglesthorne's clothes and surroundings might have led one to thinkthat he was none too well off, but this idea would have been wrong--withregard to the present, at any rate. Besides Miss Crabingway's moneypayments, he had lately got some 'research' work--this latter fact hementioned to his visitors with some pride, and partly to account for thepiles of papers abounding everywhere. He left them to think this pieceof news over while he retired to another room to fetch the deal box.
While he was gone Martha rolled her eyes upward, and raised her hands indespair.
"How I _should_ like to set to and tidy up a bit for him, poorgentleman," she sighed.
"It's more than I'd like to do," said Isobel. "_What_ a muddle!"
"He'd probably be annoyed if anyone upset his research papers," saidPamela. "But, good gracious! I don't know how he can ever findanything again--once he puts it down."
"He probably doesn't find it again," said Isobel, laughing.
As for Caroline, with whom neatness was almost a passion, she was fairlynumbed by the scene before her, and could only sigh deeply and shake herhead. Beryl was always shy in strange places, and, whatever herthoughts, she kept silent.
Mr Sigglesthorne shortly returned, and with renewed apologies forforgetting to bring the box down to Barrowfield presented a small dealbox and key to Pamela, requesting her to open it. Inside were a numberof bank-notes, which she was told to take out and distribute--so much toMartha for housekeeping expenses and so much to herself and each of theother girls for 'pocket money.' Having done this, she signed a receiptand placed it in the box, which Mr Sigglesthorne locked and took awayagain.
Finding that they did not know the Temple well, Mr Sigglesthorneinsisted on putting on his coat and top-hat and coming out with them.Pamela protested that they did not wish to take him away from hisresearch work, but he vowed he would have plenty of time if he returnedwithin half an hour. So he trotted beside them, talking and waving hishand, first on one side and then the other, giving them a very confusedidea of the plan of the Temple and its history. But, at any rate, MrSigglesthorne enjoyed himself. And when he finally left them in theStrand, with more apologies, Pamela saw him disappear toward the Templeagain with a smile on her face that had more of regret in it thanamusement; but her regret was evidently not shared by Isobel, who said:
"Well, thank goodness! Now we can get on, and enjoy ourselves."
They did a round of sight-seeing to make the most of the day in town,and had dinner at a restaurant, where Martha, though very nervous, wasnevertheless very critical, in her own mind, about the dishes served.She guessed she could make better white sauce than was served at thisplace, though she was curious to know how the cream pudding was made.
The girls wished they had arranged to end up the day at a theatre, butthey had not thought of this in time to let Ellen know, and she would beat Barrowfield station waiting at nine o'clock. So they were obliged torelinquish this idea, with much regret.
As they turned away from the restaurant Pamela suddenly gave astart--stood stock still for a moment, then, bending her head, hurriedon. She had caught a glimpse of her father just getting into a bus.The sight of him caused a great wave of longing and home-sickness torush over her, so that it was all she could do to restrain herself fromrunning back toward him. To her embarrassment she found that her eyeswere full of tears. He looked just the same dear old father. She hadnot realized till now how badly she had wanted to see them all at homeagain; she knew she had wanted them, but had stifled the longing as muchas possible. She wondered how her mother looked--and Michael--and theothers. The post-card she received from home each month was crammedfull of news--but even so, post-cards are very unsatisfying things.
As her agitation became obvious to her companions, and they inquiredwhat was the matter she was obliged to explain a little.
"I didn't realize how _badly_ I wanted to see my people again--till Isaw him," she concluded.
"Well, half the time is up now," said Isobel. "I think it was a verysilly restriction of Miss Crabingway's-- But there you are! And fiftypounds is not to be sneezed at, is it?"
Much to every one's dismay, except Caroline's, it now began torain--suddenly and heavily--and a rush was made for the nearest tubestation. Caroline hastily donned her mackintosh, and stopping in adoorway slipped on her goloshes, before she ran through the rain to thetube. Her triumph was short-lived, however, because once inside thetube they were under cover all the way until they arrived at Barrowfieldstation, very sleepy and chilly with sitting still so long in the train.
Ellen was at the station, and she had actually brought umbrellas forthem. Secretly, although not an ill-natured girl, Caroline hadhalf-hoped they would have had to tramp home through the rain--thenperhaps they wouldn't have teased her another time, she thought.
However, under the umbrellas they walked--the village fly being engagedelsewhere that evening, otherwise Thomas Bagg would have been hired totake them home.
And then Beryl would not have bumped into some one--also under anumbrella--who was coming from the village toward the station.
As a rather high wind was blowing it was necessary to hold an umbrelladown close over the top of your head, and so Beryl did not notice anyonecoming toward her till her umbrella caught against another umbrella;both umbrellas were lifted for a moment--and in that moment Beryl saw awoman looking at her from under the other umbrella, a woman who frownedand put her forefinger to her lips as if enjoining silence.
A WOMAN WHO FROWNED AND PUT HER FOREFINGER TO HER LIPS]
Beryl stifled a scream and ran quickly forward and joined the others,keeping as close to Pamela as she could till they reached home.
While the woman, with a quick backward glance at the receding group,continued on her way, limping hurriedly up the hill.