been at home?
Over the washing-up, the two became confidential. Sally broached thesubject of the West End. She dilated upon it. Mrs. Perce was allsympathy, and full of agreement.
"You're quite right," she said. "And I'm glad. I wish I could help you.Now, can I?" She thought a moment. "Wait a bit. Wait a bit."
She went out of the room. Amid the din of "There you are, there you are,there you ain't--ain't--ain't," Sally heard her call: "Perce, what's thename Maggie Merrick calls herself now?" There was a silence. The door ofthe other room was closed. Sally, standing by the kitchen table, dryinga plate, strained her ears unavailingly. A silence was upon the flat.Only the fire huskily caved in, and little darting sparks flew into theair. It was as though her life hung suspended. Then, in a few minutes,Mrs. Perce returned, a triumphant beam upon her face. "You go and seeMaggie on Monday," she said. "I'll write her a letter. She calls herselfGala--Madame Gala. Got a place round behind Regent Street, and abouttwenty hands. She's a very old friend of mine.... I'll give you a letterto-night. Just say you come from Polly Barrow. She'll see you. Course, Ican't be sure...."
"No, no!" Sally's concurrence was eager. Her heart was like a flame."You _are_ kind to me, Mrs. Perce."
"If I can help you, Sally...." Mrs. Perce's voice took on a tone ofkindness almost solemn. "Well, that's all right. Just wait till thesethings are washed."
Trembling, Sally introduced her other problem. At first Mrs. Perce gavea great laugh, and looked very sharply at Sally. She looked at herdress, at her face, at her hair.
"I don't want to look...."
"It wouldn't help you to look made-up. Not with Maggie. So there _is_ aboy!"
"No!" Sally's tone was fierce.
"Oh, all right." Mrs. Perce was evidently not altogether convinced. Shedried her hands, her head consideringly upon one side.
"Who'd look at me?" There was a vain effort in this speech tocorroborate the disclaimer; but there was also an ingenuous and patheticappeal for some sort of reassurance, for this was Sally's hidden fear.
"Don't be a fool, Sally. If a girl makes up her mind to have a man...."
Sally's heart leapt. She looked with shining eyes of glory at Mrs.Perce. It was the announcement of her dream, a confirmation of her hope.She was for a moment ecstatic.
"Oh, Mrs. Perce!"
"You just look at him like that, my dear. Well, I'll tell you.... Youdon't want to look _too_ fresh. Don't use peroxide. Henna's the stufffor you."
"Henna! How much?" Sally was desperate. The word was open sesame to her.
"Wait a bit. I'll think. Henna. And a face cream. But mind, Sally, becareful. Not too much of it. And whatever you do, remember your neck._You_ don't see it; but others do. All that's above your dress. And abit below. Some people are inquisitive. And just a bit of lipsalve--just a tinge. See, your lips aren't red enough. But you've got tobe on the watch not to overdo it. No good looking like a tart."
"No. It's just the hair and the freckles," breathed Sally.
"Oh, well.... We'll make a picture of you. And the eyebrows, Sally. Butonly a bit, Sally. Only a bit. You've got to be moderate...."
Mrs. Perce went off into a delighted silence. She was in her element.She had before her a great opportunity, and all her vanity was roused.They understood one another. And for all Sally's disclaimer Mrs. Percewas in no way deceived about her ultimate object. She was as aware ofToby as if she knew the facts. But she was too shrewd to force aconfidence. To herself she was laughing with the full enjoyment whichsome women, if not most of them, bring to the contemplation of anintrigue and its ultimate consequences. Later, she resolved to add aword of warning upon the handling of that subject. But more thoughtencouraged her to be silent. There was that in Sally's bearing whichgave Mrs. Perce to understand that in the long run Sally knew what shewas about. Mrs. Perce was conscious of a smart feeling of admiration forthis child.
xi
Clasping tightly the precious henna and her other purchases, Sallyhurried home through the dark streets. Within her blouse was the letterto Madame Gala. Her head was full of her plans, her delightedanticipations of victory. For this moment she could not contemplate thepossibility that all would not go well. She was intoxicated. Her heartwas swelling. Thoughts galloped away, like steam from a boiling kettle.She kept no memory of them. It was enough for her that she was thrilledwith her own prospects. Of course Mrs. Perce's friend would take her on.Of course Toby would fall in love with her. She could make him. Once lether achieve her immediate objects, and there was no end to futurepossibilities. How strange, how wonderful, the difference which the lastfew hours had made to her! It really seemed true for once that in thedarkest hour dawn was most nearly at hand. She let herself into thehouse and crept up the stairs, subdued but exultant. It would now havetaken much more than the coldness and darkness of the horrible room tospoil her excited happiness. She even welcomed them, because if hermother awoke there would be the less need for explanations. She stood acandle upon the washstand, screened from the bed, and lighted the oilstove which they always used for preparing the breakfast. Her purchaseswere carefully arrayed, and then hidden. She removed her outer clothes,and let down her hair, shivering slightly, but tense with resolve andthe absorption of the moment. Round her shoulders she hung a big towel,and kicked it out, looking down at her legs and feet. She was consciousof pride, of physical freedom. She made small dancing steps, as happy asa child, while she waited and waited for the slow kettle to boil.
Later, Sally stole to bed, careful not to touch her sleeping mother,lest her own chill body should awaken her and provoke a querulous scene.She was shuddering from head to foot. It seemed to take hours to shakeoff the frozen feeling, and if she raised her feet and touched them withher hands they were like pieces of ice. They were still cold when sheforgot everything; and she awoke, the towel still about her head, withthe sun up and the day well advanced. A careful hand to her hair, aquick scurry to the mirror, a leap of apprehensiveness; and then she wasback in bed, shamming sleep, because her mother had stirred. The two layside by side for ever so long, until Sally could once again allowherself to breathe freely. She did not examine her feelings: she onlyknew that she was afraid and confident, alternately timid and ashamed,and then again breathing deep with satisfaction. She had begun. She wasset out upon her adventure. At a blow she had to put everything to thetest. How she longed for the next day! How she longed for her interviewwith Mrs. Perce's friend, and for her next encounter with Toby!
xii
At night she allowed her mother to go to bed first, and waited a littlewhile before beginning her preparations. She was so long that hermother, although still engrossed by the pain in her head, began togrumble.
"What you doing, Sally?" she cried sharply.
"Washing my hair," answered Sally, like a shot.
"Ought to have done it in daylight, silly girl. And dried it in frontthe fire. I don't know what's _come_ to you, Sally. You seem to doeverything you can to worrit me. Now I want to go to sleep, and you keepthe lamp burning, and the fire burning, and it's all alight, so I can'tget off."
Sally shaded the lamp. Her lip was curled. She did not deign to answerthe complaint. Silly old fool; always grumbling! Let her wait. Let herwait and see what happened! Sally was less excited, and less clumsy,to-night. She was warmer, too; and that gave her more assurance. Onceher mother had fallen asleep, as she knew from the loud breathing, shebecame leisurely. Her actions were even luxurious, so much more at easewas she. First of all she combed her hair, wishing it were longer. Thenshe made all her dispositions. For the next hour she was busy, and bythe time she was in bed she had begun to giggle almost hysterically. Shelay quite still, and quite warm, listening for some sound of Toby. Butnone came. Wherever he was, she did not hear him before she went tosleep.
And then in the dark morning her mother could not see the transformationthat had occurred; and Sally could not see it, either. They made a slowand tasteless breakfast, and Mrs. Minto slipped out to her firstsituation, where sh
e had to be at half-past seven. From that she wouldgo on to another at half-past ten that would keep her for the greaterpart of the afternoon. Sally, instead of going back to bed, as she oftendid when the two breakfasted together, dressed herself with great careand prepared to go out and meet May Pearcey. She tried to see herself inthe mirror, but could only get a lamplight view that frightened her. Shehad washed very carefully, and as she had made her own dress it fittedwell and suited her. She had a big black hat and was going to get newgloves before calling upon Madame Gala. Her shoes were bad, but shebrushed them well. Stockings she had bought on Saturday night. Turninground and round before the