Coquette

than her years. With a little moreexperience she would be in a commanding position. But Madam must be ill,Madam must.... Madam must be very ill; and yet not before Sally had madesure of Gaga. Gaga was the key with which she would enter into herproper sphere. He must be her mascot.

  With her head bent Sally stitched busily on, never allowing ambition todistract her from the immediate task. Baffled, the girls fell again totheir work. That Sally Minto was deep--you couldn't tell what she wasdoing, what she was thinking. She was deep. Under her breath Sally washumming a tune, a familiar tune. A slow grin spread over her white face,and faded again. Looking up, she caught Miss Summers's eye, and smiledfaintly, gratefully, reassuringly. She recognised at once how pleasedand proud Miss Summers was at Sally's progress. If her mind had not beenso busy, Sally would have felt a little warmth stealing into her heart;but she was not aware of anything except Sally Minto and her plans forworldly advancement. She for this moment saw Miss Summers also merely asan instrument, a plump, pussy-faced woman with an eternally cold noseand a heart quick to respond to the best efforts of her favourite hand.

  xv

  It was with a jump of excitement that Sally heard, in the followingweek, that Madam was very ill indeed. Gaga came in the morning with ahaggard face, having spent the night by his mother's bedside. He had afew words with Miss Summers, who came out of the room with a comicallysolemn look upon her plump face. She made no remark to the girls, but atlunch time, when the others were out, or were dispersed in the part ofthe building where they were allowed to eat whatever they had broughtfor lunch, Sally stole into Madam's room and found Gaga there, sittingat the desk with his hands covering his face. When Sally approached himhe did not seem to have heard her, but continued sitting thus lost in adepressed stupor. Sally knew that there was nobody in the room behindher: they were quite alone.

  "Mr. Bertram!" she said, quietly. Still he made no response. Her heartquickened. Was he asleep? Was he--was he dead? She took a further step,and then spoke his name again. There was a slight movement. He wasawake, and merely very unhappy and perhaps exhausted. With the slightestfeeling of self-consciousness she advanced to Gaga's side, and laid ahand upon his shoulder. She could see the thinning hair upon the top ofhis head, and the long slim fingers pressed to his temples.

  "Mr. Bertram, I'm so sorry," whispered Sally. Her arm slipped fartherround his shoulders, and her breast was against his head, so gentlypressing there that Gaga was only conscious of the faintest contact. Herelaxed slightly, and his hands fell. Two gloomy eyes looked up intoSally's face. She withdrew her arm, standing now beside him, altogetherapart.

  "You made me feel queer," Sally went on. "Thought you were in a faint orsomething. Are you ill? Oh, say something, say _something_!"

  All Sally's little thin body grew rigid as she spoke, for Gaga looked ather with an air of distraction. He seemed not to recognise her. His eyeswere yellow and suffused, his mouth was open, his appearance that of onewho was hardly sane.

  "I'm all right," came at last with an effort from his dry lips. "Allright, Sally. Only tired ... ever so tired." There followed a stiffattempt to smile, and then his face was hidden once again by the longhands. "My head's throbbing. It's like pincers in my head."

  "Have you got any medicine?" she asked, quite moved by his weakness. "Goout and get some. Quick! Get a chemist to...." The head was slowlyshaken. "You _ought_ to. You can't do anything if you're ill. Can't doany work, or help Madam, or anything."

  "Better presently," groaned Gaga. "That's ... that's all right, Sally.Good little girl to be so kind. I've been up all night. She's very bad,Sally; very bad. I've been up all night. Never mind; I'll be betterpresently." He relapsed into his former comatose state, nerveless andlethargic.

  "You ought to get some sleep now. Go home to bed," urged Sally. "It's nogood trying to work if you're sick. Go home now." She did not know howmotherly, how caressing and wise, her voice had become. She was absorbedin his state of exhaustion and passivity. "It's not right," she went on."You can't do any good. Get the doctor to give you something to make yousleep."

  Gaga groaned again, still lost in his own sensations.

  "No good," he murmured. "I can't sleep. That's what's the matter.Nothing does any good. I can't sleep--can't forget. Only sit here likethis, and feel stupid. Never mind, Sally. Good little girl." He spokethickly, like a man who has been drinking; but he was stupidlyunshakable. She could do nothing with him. Having withdrawn her arm shecould not again lay it upon his shoulders; but stood silent, feelinghelpless and on tiptoe, with a sense of strain. She was not miserablenor anxious about him; she could almost hear her own voice, so nearlyhad detachment come upon her. And with something like cramp in herlimbs, and paralysis of her ingenuity, she remained by his side, onehand resting for support upon Gaga's desk. Presently he withdrew one ofhis own hands, and patted hers; and as if that released her Sally wentvery quietly back to the workroom. There she saw two or three of thegirls busy reading a paper, and in a little while Miss Summers came backand work was resumed. By the time Sally could again go into Madam's roomGaga had disappeared, and they did not see him all the following day.

  xvi

  Two days later he returned, and dully went on with his work as though ithad no interest for him. Miss Summers had several times to suffer theordeal of debilitating interviews; and towards the end of the afternoonwas exasperated to tears. Sally could tell this from the sniffs andnose-rubbings that became more and more frequent. Miss Summers'seye-rims were quite pink, and her funny eyes were moist. She looked morethan ever like a disconsolate tabby, and her hands were restless andclumsy. She had to ask Sally to thread her needle, and even to finishwork that she was doing badly because of her agitation.

  "Thank you, my dear," murmured Miss Summers. "So kind." Then, in a lowtone, "Do for goodness' sake go in and see what Mr. Bertram's doing.He's quite absurd, like somebody mad. He's not in his senses, that'sclear; and it's enough to drive anybody crazy."

  Sally left the girls and slipped into Madam's tawny room. At herentrance Gaga gave a start, and his ruler fell clattering to the floor.But when he saw who was there his face brightened. A faint smile spreadacross the grey cheeks, making Gaga look so charming, in spite of hisillness, that Sally was unexpectedly relieved. Her own smile wasinstantly responsive, and she stood almost roguishly before him in hershort frock, and the demure pinafore which she was wearing over it.

  "Miss Summers sent me," she explained. "Thought you might want somehelp."

  Gaga shook his head, the smile still apparent. He shook his head again,trying to find words to express himself, and failing.

  "No, Sally," he at last ventured. "No help. I'm better ... almostbetter, to-day. I can understand ... understand what I'm doing. I'mafraid ... er ... afraid I was very stupid the other day. I've thoughtof that since. Er.... I say.... I wish you'd ... come out to dinnerto-night."

  "Really?" Sally beamed upon him. She gave her little grin, and nodded."If you'd like me to, of course I will. I'll be ready. Thank you verymuch."

  Gaga made a heroic effort. He began to stammer, checked himself, and atlast succeeded in imposing coherence upon his wandering words.

  "It's you who ... ought to be thanked," he answered. "You cheer me up."

  "Do I?" Sally's tone was eager, her reply instant. "I'm so glad. I liketo feel I ... you know, cheer you. Does _me_ good."

  They exchanged shy smiles, and parted; Gaga to resume his labours, Sallyto report his increasing sanity to Miss Summers. And then there followedthe unwanted hours that always lie between the making of a desiredappointment and the enjoyment of its arrival. Sally stitched with awill, for her anticipations for this evening were not of an ambitiouskind. She knew all the time she was working that she looked forward tothe outing, and she was not at all puzzled at her own expectancy,because in any case a dinner with Gaga would always make a break in heroften monotonous days and evenings. But she could never altogether failto make impulsive plans and it was as the result of unconsciousreflection that she che
cked Gaga in the course of their walk together.

  "Don't let's go to the Rezzonico," she said, quickly. "Let's gosomewhere quiet."

  As a result, they turned eastward, into the region of the smallerrestaurants, and looked at several before Sally picked one called "LeChat Blanc." It seemed to her to be the quietest and cleanest they hadseen, and at any rate it would be a new experience to dine there. Thedoorway was modest, and the windows curtained low enough (in a red andwhite check) to permit a glimpse of the small