The Way We Live Now (66 page)

‘I hope there's nothing wrong, Mrs Pipkin?'

‘She'll be wanting to go out, and I won't have it It isn't right;, is it, ma'am? She's a good girl; but they've got such a way nowadays of doing just as they pleases, that one doesn't know what's going to come next' Mrs Pipkin must have feared downright rebellion when she thus took her lodger into her confidence.

Ruby came down in her silk frock, as she had done before, and made her usual little speech. ‘I'm just going to step out, aunt, for a little time to-night. I've got the key, and I'll let myself in quite quiet.'

‘Indeed, Ruby, you won't,' said Mrs Pipkin.

‘Won't what, aunt?'

‘Won't let yourself in, if you go out. If you go out to-night you'll stay out That's all about it If you go out to-night you won't come back here any more. I won't have it, and it isn't right that I should. You're going after that young man that they tell me is the greatest scamp in all England.'

‘They tell you lies then, Aunt Pipkin.'

‘Very well. No girl is going out any more at nights out of my house; so that's all about it. If you had told me you was going before, you needn't have gone up and bedizened yourself. For now it's all to take off again.'

Ruby could hardly believe it. She had expected some opposition – what she would have called a few words; but she had never imagined that her aunt would threaten to keep her in the streets all night It seemed to her that she had bought the privilege of amusing herself by hard work. Nor did she believe now that her aunt would be as hard as her threat. ‘I've a right to go if I like,' she said.

‘That's as you think. You haven't a right to come back again, any way.'

‘Yes, I have. I've worked for you a deal harder than the girl downstairs, and I don't want no wages. I've a right to go out, and a right to come back – and go I shall.'

‘You'll be no better than you should be, if you do.'

‘Am I to work my very nails off, and push that perambulator about all
day till my legs won't carry me – and then I ain't to go out, not once in a week?'

‘Not unless I know more about it, Ruby. I won't have you go and throw yourself into the gutter – not while you're with me.'

‘Who's throwing themselves into the gutter? I've thrown myself into no gutter. I know what I'm about.'

‘There's two of us that way, Ruby – for I know what I'm about.'

‘I shall just go then.' And Ruby walked off towards the door.

‘You won't get out that way, any way, for the door's locked – and the area gate. You'd better be quiet, Ruby, and just take your things off.'

Poor Ruby for the moment was struck dumb with mortification. Mrs Pipkin had given her credit for more outrageous perseverance than she possessed, and had feared that she would rattle at the front door, or attempt to climb over the area gate. She was a little afraid of Ruby, not feeling herself justified in holding absolute dominion over her as over a servant. And though she was now determined in her conduct – being fully resolved to surrender neither of the keys which she held in her pocket – still she feared that she might so far collapse as to fall away into tears, should Ruby be violent. But Ruby was crushed. Her lover would be there to meet her, and the appointment would be broken by her! ‘Aunt Pipkin,' she said, ‘let me go just this once.'

‘No, Ruby – it ain't proper.'

‘You don't know what you're a doing of, aunt; you don't. You'll ruin me – you will. Dear Aunt Pipkin, do, do! I'll never ask again if you don't like.'

Mrs Pipkin had not expected this, and was almost willing to yield. But Mr Carbury had spoken so very plainly! ‘It ain't the thing, Ruby; and I won't do it.'

‘And I'm to be – a prisoner! What have I done to be — a prisoner? I don't believe as you've any right to lock me up.'

‘I've a right to lock my own doors.'

‘Then I shall go away to-morrow.'

‘I can't help that, my dear. The door will be open to-morrow, if you choose to go out.'

‘Then why not open it to-night. Where's the difference?' But Mrs Pipkin was stern, and Ruby, in a flood of tears, took herself up to her garret.

Mrs Pipkin knocked at Mrs Hurtle's door again. ‘She's gone to bed,' she said.

‘I'm glad to hear it. There wasn't any noise about it – was there?'

‘Not as I expected, Mrs Hurtle, certainly. But she was put out a bit. Poor girl! I've been a girl too, and used to like a bit of outing as well as any one – and a dance too; only it was always when mother knew. She ain't got a mother, poor dear! and as good as no father. And she's got it into her head that she's that pretty that a great gentleman will marry her.'

‘She is pretty!'

‘But what's beauty, Mrs Hurtle? It's no more nor skin deep,
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as the scriptures tell us. And what 'd a grand gentleman see in Ruby to marry her? She says she'll leave to-morrow.'

‘And where will she go?'

‘Just nowhere. After this gentleman – and you know what that means! You're going to be married yourself, Mrs Hurtle.'

‘We won‘t mind about that now, Mrs Pipkin.'

‘And this ‘ll be your second, and you know how these things are managed. No gentleman ‘ll marry her because she runs after him. Girls as knows what they're about should let the gentlemen run after them. That's my way of looking at it.'

‘Don't you think they should be equal in that respect?'

‘Anyways the girls shouldn't let on as they are running after the gentlemen. A gentleman goes here and he goes there, and he speaks up free, of course. In my time, girls usen't to do that. But then, maybe, I'm old-fashioned,' added Mrs Pipkin, thinking of the new dispensation.

‘I suppose girls do speak for themselves more than they did formerly.'

‘A deal more, Mrs Hurtle; quite different. You hear them talk of spooning with this fellow, and spooning with that fellow – and that before their very fathers and mothers! When I was young we used to do it, I suppose – only not like that.'

‘You did it on the sly.'

‘I think we got married quicker than they do, any way. When the gentlemen had to take more trouble they thought more about it. But if you wouldn't mind speaking to Ruby to-morrow, Mrs Hurtle, she'd listen to you when she wouldn't mind a word I said to her. I don't want her to go away from this, out into the street, till she knows where she's to go to, decent As for going to her young man – that's just walking the streets.'

Mrs Hurtle promised that she would speak to Ruby, though when making the promise she could not but think of her unfitness for the task. She knew nothing of the country. She had not a single friend in it, but Paul Montague – and she had run after him with as little discretion as
Ruby Ruggles was showing in running after her lover. Who was she that she should take upon herself to give advice to any female?

She had not sent her letter to Paul, but she still kept it in her pocket-book. At some moments she thought that she would send it; and at others she told herself that she would never surrender this last hope till every stone had been turned. It might still be possible to shame him into a marriage. She had returned from Lowestoffe on the Monday, and had made some trivial excuse to Mrs Pipkin in her mildest voice. The place had been windy, and too cold for her – and she had not liked the hotel. Mrs Pipkin was very glad to see her back again.

Sir Felix, when he promised to meet Ruby at the music-hall on the Tuesday, was under an engagement to start with Marie Melmotte for New York on the Thursday following, and to go down to Liverpool on the Wednesday. There was no reason, he thought, why he should not enjoy himself to the last, and he would say a parting word to poor little Ruby. The details of his journey were settled between him and Marie, with no inconsiderable assistance from Didon, in the garden of Grosvenor Square, on the previous Sunday – where the lovers had again met during the hours of morning service. Sir Felix had been astonished at the completion of the preparations which had been made. ‘Mind you go by the five P.M. train,' Marie said. ‘That will take you into Liverpool at ten fifteen. There's an hotel at the railway station. Didon has got our tickets under the names of Madame and Mademoiselle Racine. We are to have one cabin between us. You must get yours to-morrow. She has found out that there is plenty of room.'

‘I'll be all right.'

‘Pray don't miss the train that afternoon. Somebody would be sure to suspect something if we were seen together in the same train. We leave at seven A.M. I shan't go to bed all night, so as to be sure to be in time. Robert – he's the man – will start a little earlier in the cab with my heavy box. What do you think is in it?'

‘Clothes,' suggested Felix.

‘Yes, but what clothes? – my wedding dresses. Think of that! What a job to get them and nobody to know anything about it except Didon and Madame Craik at the shop in Mount Street! They haven't come yet, but I shall be there whether they come or not. And I shall have all my jewels. I'm not going to leave them behind. They'll go off in our cab. We can get the things out behind the house into the mews. Then Didon and I follow in another cab. Nobody ever is up before near nine, and I don't think we shall be interrupted.'

‘If the servants were to hear.'

‘I don't think they'd tell. But if I was to be brought back again, I should only tell papa that it was no good. He can't prevent me marrying.'

‘Won't your mother find out?'

‘She never looks after anything. I don't think she'd tell if she knew. Papa leads her such a life! Felix! I hope you won't be like that.' And she looked up into his face, and thought that it would be impossible that he should be.

‘I'm all right,' said Felix, feeling very uncomfortable at the time. This great effort of his life was drawing very near. There had been a pleasurable excitement in talking of running away with the great heiress of the day, but now that the deed had to be executed – and executed after so novel and stupendous a fashion – he almost wished that he had not undertaken it. It must have been much nicer when men ran away with their heiresses only as far as Gretna Green. And even Goldsheiner with Lady Julia had nothing of a job in comparison with this which he was expected to perform. And then if they should be wrong about the girl's fortune! He almost repented. He did repent, but he had not the courage to recede. ‘How about money though,' he said hoarsely.

‘You have got some?'

‘I have just the two hundred pounds which your father paid me, and not a shilling more. I don't see why he should keep my money, and not let me have it back.'

‘Look here,' said Marie, and she put her hand into her pocket. ‘I told you I thought I could get some. There is a cheque for two hundred and fifty pounds. I had money of my own enough for the tickets.'

‘And whose is this?' said Felix, taking the bit of paper with much trepidation.

‘It is papa's cheque. Mamma gets ever so many of them to carry on the house and pay for things. But she gets so muddled about it that she doesn't know what she pays and what she doesn't' Felix looked at the cheque and saw that it was payable to House or Bearer, and that it was
signed by Augustus Melmotte. ‘If you take it to the bank you'll get the money,' said Marie. ‘Or shall I send Didon, and give you the money on board the ship?'

Felix thought over the matter very anxiously. If he did go on the journey he would much prefer to have the money in his own pocket He liked the feeling of having money in his pocket. Perhaps if Didon were intrusted with the cheque she also would like the feeling. But then might it not be possible that if he presented the cheque himself he might be arrested for stealing Melmotte's money? ‘I think Didon had better get the money,' he said, ‘and bring it to me to-morrow, at four o'clock in the afternoon, to the club.' If the money did not come he would not go down to Liverpool, nor would he be at the expense of his ticket for New York. ‘You see,' he said, ‘I'm so much in the City that they might know me at the bank.' To this arrangement Marie assented and took back the cheque. ‘And then I'll come on board on Thursday morning,' he said, ‘without looking for you.'

‘Oh dear, yes – without looking for us. And don't know us even till we are out at sea. Won't it be fun when we shall be walking about on the deck and not speaking to one another! And, Felix – what do you think? Didon has found out that there is to be an American clergyman on board. I wonder whether he'd marry us.'

‘Of course he will.'

‘Won't that be jolly? I wish it was all done. Then, directly it's done, and when we get to New York, we'll telegraph and write to papa, and we'll be ever so penitent and good; won't we? Of course he'll make the best of it.'

‘But he's so savage; isn't he?'

‘When there's anything to get – or just at the moment. But I don't think he minds afterwards. He's always for making the best of everything – misfortunes and all. Things go wrong so often that if he was to go on thinking of them always they'd be too many for anybody. It'll be all right in a month's time. I wonder how Lord Nidderdale will look when he hears that we've gone off. I should so like to see him. He never can say that I've behaved bad to him. We were engaged, but it was he broke it. Do you know, Felix, that though we were engaged to be married, and everybody knew it, he never once kissed me!' Felix at this moment almost wished that he had never done so. As to what the other man had done, he cared nothing at all.

Then they parted with the. understanding that they were not to see each other again till they met on board the boat. All arrangements were
made. But Felix was determined that he would not stir in the matter unless Didon brought him the full sum of £250; and he almost thought, and indeed hoped, that she would not Either she would be suspected at the bank and apprehended, or she would run off with the money on her own account when she got it – or the cheque would have been missed and the payment stopped. Some accident would occur, and then he would be able to recede from his undertaking. He would do nothing till after Monday afternoon.