Miss Million's Maid: A Romance of Love and Fortune

  CHAPTER XXV

  FOUND!

  THE other----

  Ah, yes! At last, at last! After all my anxiety and worry and frettingand search! There she was! I could have kissed the small, animatedgrey-eyed face of the girl who was sitting next to the Honourable Jim atthe table. However she'd come there, I had at least found her.

  My long-lost mistress; Miss Million herself!

  "Oh, it's her!" cried Miss Million's shrill Cockney voice in a suddencessation of the parrot-like shrieks of talk and laughter as I ran roundthe table. "Oh, it's my Miss--it's my Miss Smith!"

  She clapped her hands with impatience, jumping up in her chair.

  "Have you brought them, Smith?" she demanded eagerly. "Have you got myclothes----"

  "Oh, 'ark at her!" shrieked some one on the right of the table. "It'sall her clothes! Hasn't thought of anything else since she camedown----"

  "Better late than never----" The babble went on all around me, while Istrove to make myself heard.

  "Now we shall see a bit o' style----"

  "Don't see anything wrong with the blouse the girl's got on, myself----"

  "Fits where it touches, doesn't it----"

  Indeed, the garment in which my young mistress's small form wasenfolded appeared to be the sort of wrap which a hairdresser's assistanttucks about one when one is going to have a shampoo!

  "Looks like a purser's jacket on a marling-spike!" sang out some oneelse; and then more laughter.

  Well, if they were lunatics, they were at least the cheerful variety!

  I went up to Miss Million's chair, ignoring the blue glance of the manbeside her, and said in my "professional," respectful murmur: "I havebrought your dressing-bag and a suit-case, Miss----"

  "Why ever didn't you bring them down yesterday?" demanded Million, alleyes and shrill Cockney accent.

  "I didn't know, Miss, where I was to bring them," I replied, feeling theamused gaze of the Honourable Jim upon me as I said it.

  "But, bless me! I gave the full address," vociferated Miss Million, "inthat telegram!"

  All the lunatics (or whatever they were) were also listening withmanifest enjoyment.

  "There was no address, Miss," I said, as I handed her the wire, which Istill kept in my hand.

  "Yes! But this was the second one I sent!" protested my mistress loudly."This was when I was at my wit's end and couldn't think why you didn'tcome! I sent off that first one first thing in the morning; you ought tohave got it!"

  "I never did, Miss," I began.

  Then a robust, rollicking voice that I confusedly remembered broke in onthe discussion.

  "There you are, you see! What do I always say? Never trust anythingexcept your lookin'-glass, and not that except it's in a cross light,"cried the voice gaily. "Certainly don't trust anything with trousers on!Not even if they are ragged ones and tied up with lumps of string! Noteven if they do pitch you a tale about having served in the Boer War!"

  Still feeling as if I were in a weird dream, I turned towards thedirection of the voice that enunciated these puzzling sentiments.

  It proceeded from----

  Ah! I knew her, too!

  I knew the brass-bright hair and the plump white-clad, sulphur-crested,cockatoo-like form across the table.

  "London's Love," again! Miss Vi Vassity herself! I'd seen her last whereI last saw Million--at that supper-table.... Now what in the world wasEngland's premier comedienne doing in this asylum--if an asylum it were?

  She went on in her high swift voice. "You won't catch me givinghalf-crowns to any more tramps to hand in a wire at the nextpost-office! No! Not if they can sport a row of medals on their chestsfrom here to East Grinstead! I knew how it would be," declared Miss ViVassity. "My kind heart's my downfall, but I'm going to sign the pledgeto reform that. And you, my dear----"--to me--

  "You sit down and have a bite of something to eat with us. Your mistressdon't mind. You don't mind, Nellie, do you?"--this to Miss Million.

  "We all mess together in this place. I couldn't be worried with aservant's hall. Make room for her there, Irene, will you? The girl looksscared to death; it's all right, Miss--Smith, aren't you? Sit down,child, sit down----"

  Before I could say another word I found that a wooden chair had beenpushed squeakingly under me by some one. Knives and forks had beenclattered down in front of me by some one else. And there was I, sittingalmost in the lap of a very tiny, dark-eyed, gipsy-looking girl, in ablouse without a collar and a pink linen sun hat pulled well down overher small face.

  On the other side of me, a big, lazy-looking blonde in a sky-blue sportscoat rocked her own chair a little away from mine, and said, in adrowsy, friendly sort of voice: "Drop of ale, dear? Or d'you take aglasser stout?"

  Then the flood tide of talk and laughter seemed to flow on over my headso fast that I literally could not make myself heard. I expostulatedthat I had already had lunch, and that I didn't want anything to drink,thanks, and that a gentleman was waiting outside on the step--but itpassed unheeded until my hostess caught my eye.

  "What's that, what's that?" ejaculated Miss Vi Vassity, preening herwhite-linen-bedecked bust across the table, as she saw me trying vainlyto say something against the uproar. "What's all that disturbance in thedress circle, Bella?" The honey-blonde whom she called Bella turned tome and said: "Speak up, dear; no one can hear your lines!" Then she madea trumpet of her plump white hands and bellowed across to Miss ViVassity:

  "Says she's got her best boy with her, and that he is having to waitoutside on the steps!"

  Here there was another general gale of laughter, in which mycrimson-cheeked explanations were quite lost! In the middle of it all Isaw the Honourable Jim rise from his seat, and stride into the hall andbring in Mr. Jessop. He appeared to be introducing him to London's Love.Miss Vi Vassity immediately made the new-comer sit down also, close toher at the top of the table.

  I have said it was a rather strange lunch that we had had earlier in themorning at the little honeysuckle-covered inn, where we three had takencider and bread and cheese together. But it was nothing to theextraordinary unexpectedness, yes, the weirdness in every way of thissecond lunch, at the long table lined with all those strange types.

  Already, as I sat down, I had given up the idea that it was a femalelunatic asylum and rest cure combined. But what was it, this "Refuge"?

  I simply couldn't think! And I did not find out until quite a long timeafterwards. After dinner was finished, when Million, I knew, was fumingfor her boxes, she beckoned me to follow her away from the noisy crowdof girls, up the shallow, broad, old-fashioned staircase. There was onedoor on the landing which she tiptoed past, putting her finger on herlips.

  More mystery!

  I could hardly wait with my questions until the door was shut of thelittle, slanting-ceiling room with the snow-white, dimity-covered bedthat represented Miss Million's new quarters.

  There were straw mats on the bare boards. On the little chest of drawersthere was a Jubilee mug full of the homeliest cottage flowers. This wasa far cry from London and the Hotel Cecil!

  I turned with eagerness to my mistress. She had flung herself upon thesuit-case that had now been brought up to her room. She had forgotten towait until I should unpack for her, and, having snatched the keys fromme, she began fishing out her blouses and other possessions with "Ah's"of delight and recognition.

  "What on earth is this place, and what's the meaning of it all?" Ibegan. But Miss Million laughed gleefully, evidently taking no smalldelight in my mystification. "Lively, isn't it?" she said. "Talk aboutthe old orphanage! Well, us girls used to enjoy life there, but it was afool to this. I fair revel in it, I can tell you, Smith, and be botheredto the old Cecil. I don't see why we shouldn't stop on here. Middle-daydinner and all. That's just my mark, and we can wire to that otherplace. Here's plenty good enough for me, for the present----"

  "But, look here," I began. "I want to know----" My mis
tress took me upquickly. I hadn't seen her in such bubbling high spirits since some ofthe old kitchen-days at Putney. "It's me that 'wants to know,' and I'mjust going to begin asking questions about it," she declared, as shejumped up to allow me to fasten her into the skirt of thetobacco-brown taffeta.

  "Look here, for a start! Who's that nice-lookin' young fellow you camedown with? I never! Motorin' all over the country with strange younggentlemen. My word! there's behaviour!" giggled Million, evidently withthe delightful consciousness that her own behaviour was far morereprehensible than mine could ever be. "Bringin' him in, as bold asbrass; whatever do you think your Auntie'd say to that, Miss--there! Inearly called you Miss Beatrice again. After all this time! Thinkin' ofyour Aunt Nasturtium, I suppose? But straight ... Smith! Where did youpick up that young man?"

  "Pick him up? I didn't," I began, feeling that a long explanation wasahead of me. "As a matter of fact, he picked me up----"

  "Oh, shockin'," said Million, giggling more than before. "Whoever said Iwas going to allow you to have followers?"

  This annoyed me.

  "Followers!" I exclaimed quite violently.

  It really was exasperating. First the Honourable Jim! Then the girlcalled "Bella"! Then my mistress! They were all taking it for granted!They were all foisting him upon me, this young American with the sleek,mouse-coloured hair and the upholstered shoulders! Upon me!

  "His name is Mr. Hiram P. Jessop----"

  "'Tain't pretty, but what's in a name?" said Million, as she held outher wrist for me to insert the microscopic pearl buttons into thefairy-silk loops that fastened her cuffs. "Who is he?"

  "He's your cousin," I told her.

  And, of course, as I expected, it was some time before I was able to getmy young mistress to believe this.

  "You're sure," she said at last, "that he's not having us on?"

  "I don't think so," I said rather sadly, for I thought again of whatthat cousinship might mean--the loss of all Miss Million's fortune!However, I'd leave that aspect of it for the present. Let him explainthat. They hadn't been introduced yet.

  I said: "He's extremely anxious to meet you, let me tell you. He thoughtof nothing else all the time that he was talking to me. Be as nice tohim as you can, won't you?"

  "Well, I don't see why I should go out of my way," demurred Millionexasperatingly. I had hoped that she might appeal to the chivalrous sideof the young American's nature; appeal to it so that he might give uphis idea of fighting for his rights--if they are his rights! But ifMillion is going to put her back up and become independent--well,they'll fight. And there'll be a catastrophe, and the downfall ofMillion's prosperity, and general wretchedness for Miss Million and hermaid--oh, dear, what a prospect!

  I began to coax her.

  "Oh, yes, be nice. He's rather a dear, this cousin of yours. And he wasso absurdly pleased, do you know, to hear that you had black hair. Headmires brunettes."

  "Very kind of him," said Million quite flippantly. "You told him, Isuppose, about me bein' dark."

  "He asked so many questions!" I said. "He really takes such an interest.You ought to be flattered, Miss Million."

  "I don't know that having interest taken in me by young gentlemen is anysuch a rarity, just now!"

  Here she reddened rather prettily.

  I fastened the other cuff. Million went on, in a gush of artlessconfidence: "To tell you the truth, Smith, I haven't half been gettingoff lately. The other night, at the Thousand and One Club, who d'yousuppose was making a fuss of me? A lord, my girl!"

  This she said, little dreaming that her maid had watched the whole ofthis scene.

  "And then, there's something else that's getting a bit more serious,"said Million, bridling. "Turning up to-day, just because he'd guessedwhere I'd got to, and all!"

  "He? Which he?" I asked, with a quick feeling of dismay.

  "It's what I call pointed," said Million, "the way he's been going onever since he's met me. Even if he is uncle's old friend, it's not allon account of uncle that he makes hisself so agreeable. Oh, no! Marked,that's what I call it. You know who I mean."

  She nodded her dark head. She smiled as she spoke the name with ashyness that suited her rather well.

  "The Honourable Mr. Burke!"

  "Million!" I said anxiously, as I folded the borrowed blouse I'd takenoff her, "Miss Million, do you like him?"

  Miss Million's grey eyes sparkled. She said: "Who wouldn't like him?"

  A pang seized me. A pang of the old apprehension that my little heiressof a mistress might lose her heart to a graceless fortune-hunter!

  I said, with real anxiety in my tone: "Oh, my dear, you don't think youare going to fall in love with this Mr. Burke, do you?"