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And　trotting　by　his　side；　with　her　jaw　set　very　firm；　his　little　bulldog　looked　up　above　her　eyes；　and　seemed　to　say：　'It　was　time　we　left　that　man　of　action！'




CHAPTER　VII

CECILIA'S　SCATTERED　THOUGHTS

In　her　morning　room　Mrs。　Stephen　Dallison　sat　at　an　old　oak　bureau　collecting　her　scattered　thoughts。　　They　lay　about　on　pieces　of　stamped　notepaper；　beginning　〃Dear　Cecilia；〃　or　〃Mrs。　Tallents　Smallpeace　requests；〃　or　on　bits　of　pasteboard　headed　by　the　names　of　theatres；　galleries；　or　concert…halls；　or；　again；　on　paper　of　not　quite　so　good　a　quality；　commencing；　〃Dear　Friend；〃　and　ending　with　a　single　well…known　name　like　〃Wessex；〃　so　that　no　suspicion　should　attach　to　the　appeal　contained　between　the　two。　　She　had　before　her　also　sheets　of　her　own　writing…paper；　headed　〃76；　The　Old　Square；　Kensington；〃　and　two　little　books。　　One　of　these　was　bound　in　marbleised　paper；　and　on　it　written：　〃Please　keep　this　book　in　safety〃；　across　the　other；　cased　in　the　skin　of　some　small　animal　deceased；　was　inscribed　the　solitary　word　〃Engagements。〃

Cecilia　had　on　a　Persian…green　silk　blouse　with　sleeves　that　would　have　hidden　her　slim　hands；　but　for　silver　buttons　made　in　the　likeness　of　little　roses　at　her　wrists；　on　her　brow　was　a　faint　frown；　as　though　she　were　wondering　what　her　thoughts　were　all　about。　She　sat　there　every　morning　catching　those　thoughts；　and　placing　them　in　one　or　other　of　her　little　books。　　Only　by　thus　working　hard　could　she　keep　herself；　her　husband；　and　daughter；　in　due　touch　with　all　the　different　movements　going　on。　　And　that　the　touch　might　be　as　due　as　possible；　she　had　a　little　headache　nearly　every　day。　　For　the　dread　of　letting　slip　one　movement；　or　of　being　too　much　taken　with　another；　was　very　real　to　her；　there　were　so　many　people　who　were　interesting；　so　many　sympathies　of　hers　and　Stephen's　which　she　desired　to　cultivate；　that　it　was　a　matter　of　the　utmost　import　not　to　cultivate　any　single　one　too　much。　　Then；　too；　the　duty　of　remaining　feminine　with　all　this　going　forward　taxed　her　constitution。　　She　sometimes　thought　enviously　of　the　splendid　isolation　now　enjoyed　by　Blanca；　of　which　some　subtle　instinct；　rather　than　definite　knowledge；　had　informed　her；　but　not　often；　for　she　was　a　loyal　little　person；　to　whom　Stephen　and　his　comforts　were　of　the　first　moment。　　And　though　she　worried　somewhat　because　her　thoughts　WOULD　come　by　every　post；　she　did　not　worry　very　much　hardly　more　than　the　Persian　kitten　on　her　lap；　who　also　sat　for　hours　trying　to　catch　her　tail；　with　a　line　between　her　eyes；　and　two　small　hollows　in　her　cheeks。

When　she　had　at　last　decided　what　concerts　she　would　be　obliged　to　miss；　paid　her　subscription　to　the　League　for　the　Suppression　of　Tinned　Milk；　and　accepted　an　invitation　to　watch　a　man　fall　from　a　balloon；　she　paused。　　Then；　dipping　her　pen　in　ink；　she　wrote　as　follows：

〃Mrs。　Stephen　Dallison　would　be　glad　to　have　the　blue　dress　ordered　by　her　yesterday　sent　home　at　once　without　alteration。Messrs。　Rose　and　Thorn；　High　Street；　Kensington。〃

Ringing　the　bell；　she　thought：　'It　will　be　a　job　for　Mrs。　Hughs；　poor　thing。　　I　believe　she'll　do　it　quite　as　well　as　Rose　and　Thorn。'　〃Would　you　please　ask　Mrs。　Hughs　to　come　to　me？Oh；　is　that　you；　Mrs。　Hughs？　　Come　in。〃

The　seamstress；　who　had　advanced　into　the　middle　of　the　room；　stood　with　her　worn　hands　against　her　sides；　and　no　sign　of　life　but　the　liquid　patience　in　her　large　brown　eyes。　　She　was　an　enigmatic　figure。　　Her　presence　always　roused　a　sort　of　irritation　in　Cecilia；　as　if　she　had　been　suddenly　confronted　with　what　might　possibly　have　been　herself　if　certain　little　accidents　had　omitted　to　occur。　　She　was　so　conscious　that　she　ought　to　sympathise；　so　anxious　to　show　that　there　was　no　barrier　between　them；　so　eager　to　be　all　she　ought　to　be；　that　her　voice　almost　purred。

〃Are　you　Getting　on　with　the　curtains；　Mrs。　Hughs？〃

〃Yes；　m'm；　thank　you；　m'm。〃

〃I　shall　have　another　job　for　you　to…morrowaltering　a　dress。　　Can　you　come？〃

〃Yes；　m'm；　thank　you；　m'm。〃

〃Is　the　baby　well？〃

〃Yes；　m'm；　thank　you；　m'm。〃

There　was　a　silence。

'It's　no　good　talking　of　her　domestic　matters；'　thought　Cecilia；　'not　that　I　don't　care！'　　But　the　silence　getting　on　her　nerves；　she　said　quickly：　〃Is　your　husband　behaving　himself　better？〃

There　was　no　answer；　Cecilia　saw　a　tear　trickle　slowly　down　the　woman's　cheek。

'Oh　dear；　oh　dear；'　she　thought；　'poor　thing！　I'm　in　for　it！'

Mrs。　Hughs'　whispering　voice　began：　〃He's　behaving　himself　dreadful；　m'm。　　I　was　going　to　speak　to　you。　　It's　ever　since　that　young　girl〃　her　face　hardened〃come　to　live　down　in　my　room　there；　he　seem　to　he　seem　tojust　do　nothing　but　neglect　me。〃

Cecilia's　heart　gave　the　little　pleasurable　flutter　which　the　heart　must　feel　at　the　love　dramas　of　other　people；　however　painful。

〃You　mean　the　little　model？〃　　she　said。

The　seamstress　answered　in　an　agitated　voice：　〃I　don't　want　to　speak　against　her；　but　she's　put　a　spell　on　him；　that's　what　she　has；　he　don't　seem　able　to　do　nothing　but　talk　of　her；　and　hang　about　her　room。　　It　was　that　troubling　me　when　I　saw　you　the　other　day。　　And　ever　since　yesterday　midday；　when　Mr。　Hilary　camehe's　been　talking　that　wildand　he　pushed　meandand…〃　　Her　lips　ceased　to　form　articulate　words；　but；　since　it　was　not　etiquette　to　cry　before　her　superiors；　she　used　them　to　swallow　down　her　tears；　and　something　in　her　lean　throat　moved　up　and　down。

At　the　mention　of　Hilary's　name　the　pleasurable　sensation　in　Cecilia　had　undergone　a　change。　　She　felt　curiosity；　fear；　offence。

〃I　don't　quite　understand　you；〃　she　said。

The　seamstress　plaited　at　her　frock。　　〃Of　course；　I　can't　help　the　way　he　talks；　m'm。　　I'm　sure　I　don't　like　to　repeat　the　wicked　things　he　says　about　Mr。　Hilary。　　It　seems　as　if　he　were　out　of　his　mind　when　he　gets　talkin'　about　that　young　girl。〃

The　tone　of　those　last　three　words　was　almost　fierce。

Cecilia　was　on　the　point　of　saying：　'That　will　do；　please；　I　want　to　hear　no　more。'　But　her　curiosity　and　queer　subtle　fear　forced　her　instead　to　repeat：　〃I　don't　understand。　　Do　you　mean　he　insinuates　that　Mr。　Hilary　has　anything　to　do　withwith　this　girl；　or　what？〃　And　she　thought：　'I'll　stop　that；　at　any　rate。'

The　seamstress's　face　was　distorted　by　her　efforts　to　control　her　voice。

〃I　tell　him　he's　wicked　to　say　such　things；　m'm；　and　Mr。　Hilary　such　a　kind　gentleman。　　And　what　business　is　it　of　his；　I　say；　that's　got　a　wife　and　children　of　his　own？　　I've　seen　him　in　the　street；　I've　watched　him　hanging　about　Mrs。　Hilary's　house　when　I've　been　working　there　waiting　for　that　girl；　and　following　herhome…〃　Again　her　lips　refused　to　do　service；　except　in　the　swallowing　of　her　tears。

Cecilia　thought：　'I　must　tell　Stephen　at　once。　　That　man　is　dangerous。'　　A　spasm　gripped　her　heart；　usually　so　warm　and　snug；　vague　feelings　she　had　already　entertained　presented　themselves　now　with　startling　force；　she　seemed　to　see　the　face　of　sordid　life　staring　at　the　family　of　Dallison。　　Mrs。　Hughs'　voice；　which　did　not　dare　to　break；　resumed：

〃I've　said　to　him：　'Whatever　are　you　thinking　of？　　And　after　Mrs。　Hilary's　been　so　kind　to　me！　　But　he's　like　a　madman　when　he's　in　liquor；　and　he　says　he'll　go　to　Mrs。　Hilary…〃

〃Go　to　my　sister？　　What　about？　　The　ruffian！〃

At　hearing　her　husband　called　a　ruffian　by　another　woman　the　shadow　of　resentment　passed　across　Mrs。　Hughs'　face；　leaving　it　quivering　and　red。　　The　conversation　had　already　made　a　strange　difference　in　the　manner　of　these　two　women　to　each　other。　　It　was　as　though　each　now　knew　exactly　how　much　sympathy　and　confidence　could　be　expected　of　the　other；　as　though　life　had　suddenly　sucked　up　the　mist；　and　shown　them　standing　one　on　either　side　of　a　deep　trench。　　In　Mrs。　Hughs'　eyes　there　was　the　look　of　those　who　have　long　discovered　that　they　must　not　answer　back　for　fear　of　losing　what　little　ground　they　have　to　stand　on；　and　Cecilia's　eyes　were　cold　and　watchful。　　'I　sympathise；'　they　seemed　to　say；　'I　sympathise；　but　you　must　please　understand　that　you　cannot　expect　sympathy　if　your　affairs　compromise　the　members　of　my　family。'　　Her；　chief　thought　now　was　to　be　relieved　of　the　company　of　this　woman；　who　had　been　betrayed　into　showing　what　lay　beneath　her　dumb；　stubborn　patience。　　It　was　not　callousness；　but　the　natural　result　of　being　fluttered。　　Her　heart　was　like　a　bird　agitated　in　its　gilt…wire　cage　by　the　contemplation　of　a　distant　cat。　She　did　not；　however；　lose　her　sense　of　what　was　practical；　but　said　calmly：　〃Your　husband　was　wounded　in　South　Africa；　you　told　me？　　It　looks　as　if　he　wasn't　quite。。。。　　I　think　you　should　have　a　doctor！〃

The　seamstress's　answer；　slow　and　matter…of…fact；　was　worse　than　her　emotion。

〃No；　m'm；　he　isn't　mad。〃

Crossing　to　the　hearth…whose　Persian…blue　tiling　had　taken　her　so　long　to　findCecilia　stood　beneath　a　reproduction　of　Botticelli's　〃Primavera；〃　and　looked　doubtfully　at　Mrs。　Hughs。　　The　Persian　kitten；　sleepy　and　disturbed　on　the　bosom　of　her　blouse；　gazed　up　into　her　face。　　'Consider　me；'　it　seemed　to　say；　'I　am　worth　consideration；　I　am　of　a　piece　with　you；　and　everything　round　you。　We　are　both　elegant　and　rather　slender；　we　both　love　warmth　and　kittens；　we　both　dislike　inte