CHAPTER XXII
THE REAL TILLY
Mr. Mehta Ram promptly fell at the feet of Mr. Welwyn, and attempted, intrue Old Testament fashion, to embrace that embarrassed scholar andgentleman by the knees.
"Keep him out!" he shrieked. "Great snakes, I implore you! Lock thedoor!"
In the absence of the snakes this office was performed by Percy andDicky. Directly afterwards there was a rush of feet down the staircase,and a fusilade of blows began to rain upon the panels.
"Open the door!" commanded a voice, in a frenzied Paisley accent. "I'mwanting in! Tae break his neck," it added in explanation.
Dicky and Percy promptly put their backs against the door. Mrs. Welwyncrossed hastily to her husband's side.
"It's that Pumpherston," she announced in a low voice. "What are we todo?"
Mr. Welwyn addressed the suppliant at his feet.
"Come, Mr. Mehta Ram," he said, "don't be frightened. He can't get in.What is the trouble?"
Mr. Mehta Ram lifted his face from Mr. Welwyn's boots and addressed thecompany at large.
"Mr. Welwyn, Mrs. Welwyn, and general public," he began--the latterdesignation was apparently intended for the Mainwaring family, who, withthe exception of Dicky, had ranged themselves into a compact group onthe further side of the room--"I appeal to you as British subject--as amember of that great Empire upon which the sun never sits--"
"Sets, old comrade!" corrected Dicky from the door.
"Shed your tears!" commanded Mr. Ram, disregarding the interruption."Give us a look in! I am in jeopardy--in a damtight place! My adversaryknocks upon the door--the avenging Pumpherston! He arraigns me of pettylarceny. He accuses me that I have confiscated his table. But I aminnocent! I make my defence! I throw myself--Ah-a-a-a-a-h! Help!"
The other door--that leading into Mr. Welwyn's bedroom, which itselfcommunicated with the landing outside--burst open, and a small,red-whiskered, and intensely ferocious gentleman bounded in. It was theavenging Pumpherston.
Mr. Ram bolted across the room like an obese rabbit, and took refugebehind the hostile but protective form of Lady Adela.
The avenger paused, obviously nonplussed by the size of the assembly.
"I beg your paurdon," he said awkwardly. "I wis not aware--"
He turned, to find Percy and Dicky standing beside him, one at eachshoulder.
"We were half expecting you, Mr. Pumpherston," said Dicky, with afriendly smile. "But if you and this gentleman are playinghide-and-seek, the den is upstairs."
"I beg your paurdon," repeated Mr. Pumpherston, whose bellicosity wasfast evaporating, "but yon fat heathen has robbed me. He has lifted apiece of furniture--Heh! Let me get at him!"
With a convulsive bound he wrenched himself free from his interlocutorsand made a dash for the door. But he was too late. Mr. Mehta Ram,keeping under the lee of Lady Adela and the furniture, had made use ofthe brief respite afforded by the recital of his assailant's grievancesto effect an unostentatious departure, and was now halfway up thestaircase again. The baffled Pumpherston followed him with a long-drawnhowl.
"Come on, Percy!" said Dicky.
The pair raced out in pursuit, banging the door behind them. Presentlyfrom abovestairs came the sound of renewed conflict; a few dull thudsand muffled crashes; and then--silence.
----
Lady Adela rose to her feet in awful majesty, and addressed the stunnedand demoralised remnants of the tea-party.
"Is this a private asylum," she enquired in trumpet tones, "or is itnot?"
Grandma Banks was the only member of her audience who replied.
"My late 'usband," she whimpered--"my late 'usband, Mr. Josiah Banks!Greatly respected in 'Itchin--greatly respec--"
Tears coursed slowly down her furrowed cheeks.
In a moment Tilly was kneeling beside her, with her arms round the frailold body, whispering gently and caressingly into her ear. There was along silence, and Sylvia began to pull on her gloves.
"I think we had better be going," said Lady Adela.
"I suppose so," said Mrs. Welwyn helplessly.
But Lucius Welwyn made a last effort. All seemed lost, yet his inherentpolish and _savoir faire_ rebelled against such an inglorious andignominious end as this.
"I must apologise most sincerely for this _contretemps_, Lady Adela," hesaid with a ready smile. "Those fellows are two disciples of mine. Lawstudents--British Museum--and so on. They come here periodically toreceive instruction from me in my library upstairs"--Lady Adela lookedup and regarded him steadily, but he continued with perfectcoolness--"but I fear that on this occasion racial animosity has provedstronger than academic unity of purpose. You will understand, I amsure."
"Perfectly," replied Lady Adela. "Come, Sylvia."
Sylvia was quite ready, but at this moment the door flew open once more,and Dicky and Percy reappeared, flushed, panting, but triumphant.
"It's all right, Mrs. Welwyn," announced Dicky reassuringly. "Thebrunette gentleman has bolted himself into the bathroom, and we havelocked up the blonde in a broom-cupboard. Hallo, Mum--going?"
"Yes. Come, Sylvia."
"Certainly, Mother," said Sylvia.
Dicky's ear caught the danger-note in his sister's voice. He stoodtransfixed, with dismay written across his frank but heated features.
"I say," he stammered. "Mum--Sylvia--what does all this mean?"
"Good-bye, Mrs. Welwyn," said Lady Adela calmly. "Thank youfor--ah--entertaining us. I suppose one can get a cab here?"
She shook Mrs. Welwyn's nerveless hand and turned to Mr. Mainwaring, whostood awkwardly smoothing his hat.
"Are you ready, Abel?" she enquired.
Suddenly Tilly Welwyn rose from her knees by her grandmother's side,and, to employ a dramatic expression, took the centre of the stage. Shestood face to face with her departing guests, her head thrown back andher hands clenched--a very slim, very upright, very dignified littlefigure.
"Sit down, please, everybody, if you will be so kind," she said quietly."I shan't keep you long."
Lady Adela, looking like a boa-constrictor which has been challenged tomortal combat by a small and inexperienced chicken, stood stockstill,with her head oscillating from side to side in a slightly uncertainfashion. Then, recovering herself, she fell back in good order upon hersupporters.
The Welwyns, closing loyally upon their small champion, spoke in anxiousundertones.
"Don't chuck up the sponge, Sis," whispered Percy encouragingly. "We'llpull you through."
"Don't lose your head, my child," counselled her father. "You may makethings worse."
"Tilly, dearie, can you ever forgive me?" was all Mrs. Welwyn said. Sheforgot, in her selfless grief for the destruction of her daughter'scastle-in-the-air, that she herself had predicted its fall.
Little 'Melia said nothing, but passionately squeezed her sister's hand.
"You are all dears," said Tilly in a clear voice, "and I love you forthe way you have stood by me to-day; but I want to speak to the othersjust now."
She took a step forward towards the Mainwarings, who were grouped besidethe tea-table. But before she could speak, Dicky, who had been hoveringsilently on the outer wing of his own party, crossed the floor andjoined her.
"I'll come and stand over here, Tilly," he said, "if you don't mind.There's a nasty draught in that corner."
Tilly smiled faintly.
"I would rather you did n't," she said, with the suspicion of a tremorin her voice. "Please go over there."
Dicky responded by standing-at-ease, military fashion.
"Carry on," he said briefly.
"Please, Dicky!" urged Tilly, "It only makes it harder for me."
Dicky glanced at her white face, and retired one pace backward.
"That is my limit," he said.
Meanwhile Lady Adela had come to the conclusion that all this was veryemotional and undi
gnified.
"Miss Welwyn," she enquired, "what does this mean?"
"I will tell you," said Tilly. "But first of all I must say one thing.I did not try to trap your son, as you seem to think. We fell--we cameto care for one another quite naturally. I made no attempt to catchhim. I knew nothing whatever about him. It--it just happened." Sheturned wistfully to Dicky. "Did n't it?" she asked.
Dicky nodded his head gravely.
"It just happened," he said.
"And since we cared for one another--or thought we did"--continued Tillywith a little choke, "it never came into my head that anything elsecould matter. But last Saturday, when I went to stay at your house, andsaw your grand ways and your grand servants, and all the commotion youmade about Members of Parliament, and county families, and allthat--well, I began to see rocks ahead. I felt common. My couragebegan to fail. I began to be afraid that you would not take kindly tothe Family--"
"It was n't you that was afraid, dearie," said a respectful voice behindher. "It was the Family."
"I saw, too, Lady Adela," continued Tilly, "that _you_ were againstme--dead against me--and that as soon as you got hold of a decent-excuseI should be bundled out of your son's life, like--like an entanglement.That put my back up. I had meant to be perfectly straight andunpretentious with you, but when I saw what you were after, I determinedto fight. So I have deceived you."
"We all have," murmured a loyal chorus.
"You have been _done_!" proclaimed Tilly defiantly. She was fast losingcontrol of herself. She felt dimly that she was behaving in anhysterical and theatrical manner; but when one's world is tumbling aboutone's ears, one may be excused for stating the truth rather moreexplicitly than is usual. "Yes--_done_!" she repeated. "I will tellyou just exactly who we are and what we are. Father is a gentleman,right enough"--her voice rang out proudly--"as well-born a gentleman asany of the land; but he has followed no regular profession for twentyyears, and he lives on Mother. Mother keeps lodgings. This house is alodging-house, and those two men you saw were lodgers. Percy works in awholesale haberdasher's in Holborn. I do a little dress-designing.'Melia helps Mother with the lodgers. So you see you have been imposedon: we work for a living! But you must n't blame the Family for whathas happened. It was my idea from start to finish: the Family onlybacked me up. And they did back me up! No girl ever had such asplendid father or mother, or brother or sister." Tilly stepped backinto the heart of her bodyguard, feeling for friendly hands. "I 'mproud of them," she cried passionately, "proud to belong to them! I'mproud that my name is Tilly Welwyn, and I never wish to change it forany other. We Welwyns may be nobodies but we stick together. There!You may go now."
The drawing-room door creaked and opened, but no one noticed.
"I have told you everything, I think," said Tilly, more calmly. "I knownow that I should have told you in any case. That's all.... No, it'snot."
She swung round towards the doorway, and pointed to the grotesque figureof that earnest student of the drama, Samuel Stillbottle, who wasmyopically deciphering a small but tattered document, all but concealedin the palm of his hand.
"We're paupers!" she cried. "We're in debt! We're broke! There's adistraint on the furniture; and that creature"--Mr. Stillbottle, hazilyconscious that a cue was coming, furtively thrust his manuscript intohis waistcoat pocket--"that creature is a broker's man! Oh, Mother,Mother, Mother!"
In an instant Martha Welwyn's arms closed round her daughter.
"There, there!" she crooned. "My lamb, my pretty, my precious, mydearie--don't you cry!"
There was a deathlike stillness, broken only by Tilly's sobs. TheMainwarings stood like statues. Mr. Welwyn sat on the sofa, his headbowed between his hands. Grandma Banks slumbered peacefully. Thebewildered but conscientious Stillbottle seized his opportunity, andcleared his throat.
"The shover, sir," he announced huskily, "is below, a-waitin' for--"
Next moment a hand like a vice closed upon the herald's collar, andDicky Mainwaring's voice remarked concisely into his ear:--
"Go to the devil."
Mr. Stillbottle, utterly dazed, raised his head and surveyed thecompany. Then he smiled apologetically.
"Wrong entrance," he observed. "My error! _Exit hastily!_"
He turned, and shuffled out.