'You're very quiet tonight, Fred,' she said at last. 'What's the matter with you?'
He walked a few steps before he answered.
'I don't like to tell you.'
She stopped suddenly and looked up at him. There was terror on her face.
'Tell me whatever it is,' she said unsteadily.
'I'm gone, I can't help myself, I'm so stuck on you I can't see straight. I didn't know what it was to love like I love you.'
'Oh, is that all? You gave me such a fright. I thought you were going to say you were going to be married.'
'Me? Who d'you take me for? It's you I want to marry.'
'Well, what's to prevent you, silly?'
'Gracie! D'you mean it?'
He flung his arms round her and kissed her full on the mouth. She didn't resist. She returned his kiss and he felt in her a passion as eager as his own.
They arranged that Gracie should tell her parents that she was engaged to him and that on the Sunday he should come and be introduced to them. Since the shop stayed open late on Saturday and by the time Mr Carter got home he was tired out, it was not till after dinner on Sunday that Gracie broke her news. George Carter was a brisk, not very tall man, but sturdy, with a high colour, who with increasing prosperity had put on weight. He was more than rather bald and he had a bristle of grey moustache. Like many another employer who had risen from the working class he was a slave-driver and he got as much work out of his assistants for as little money as was possible. He had an eye for every thing and he wouldn't put up with any nonsense, but he was reasonable and even kindly, so that they did not dislike him. Mrs Carter was a quiet, nice woman, with a pleasant face and the remains of good looks. They were both in the early fifties, for they had married late after 'walking out' for nearly ten years.
They were very much surprised when Gracie told them what she had to tell, but not displeased.
'You're a sly one,' said her father. 'Why, I never suspected for a minute you'd taken up with anyone. Well, I suppose it had to come sooner or later. What's his name?'
'Fred Manson.'
'A fellow you met at college?'
'No. You must have seen him about. He clears our pillar-box. He's a postman.'
'Oh, Gracie,' cried Mrs Carter, 'you can't mean it. You can't marry a common postman, not after all the education we've given you.'
For an instant Mr Carter was speechless. He got redder in the face than ever.
'Your ma's right, my girl,' he burst out now. 'You can't throw yourself away like that. Why, it's ridiculous.'
'I'm not throwing myself away. You wait till you see him.'
Mrs Carter began to cry.
'It's such a come-down. It's such a humiliation. I shall never be able to hold up my head again.'
'Oh, Ma, don't talk like that. He's a nice fellow and he's got a good job.'
'You don't understand,' she moaned.
'How d'you get to know him?' Mr Carter interrupted. 'What sort of family's he got?'
'His pa drives one of the post-office vans,' Gracie answered defiantly.
'Working-class people.'
'Well, what of it? His pa's worked twenty-four years for the post-office and they think a lot of him.'
Mrs Carter was biting the corner of her handkerchief.
'Gracie, I want to tell you something. Before your pa and me got married I was in domestic service. He wouldn't ever let me tell you because he didn't want you to be ashamed of me. That's why we was engaged all those years. The lady I was with said she'd leave me something in her will if I stayed with her till she passed away.'
'It was that money that gave me my start,' Mr Carter broke in. 'Except for that I'd never have been where I am today. And I don't mind telling you you're ma's the best wife a man ever had.'
'I never had a proper education,' Mrs Carter went on, 'but I always was ambitious. The proudest moment of my life was when your pa said we could afford a girl to help me and he said then: "The time'll come when you have a cook and a house-maid," and he's been as good as his word, and now you're going back to what I come from. I'd set my heart on your marrying a gentleman.'
She began crying again. Gracie loved her parents and couldn't bear to see them so distressed.
'I'm sorry, Ma, I knew it would be a disappointment to you, but I can't help it, I can't really. I love him so. I love him so terribly. I'm sure you'll like him when you see him. We're going for a walk on the Common this afternoon. Can't I bring him back to supper?'
Mrs Carter gave her husband a harassed look. He sighed.
'I don't like it and it's no good pretending I do, but I suppose we'd better have a look at him.'
Supper passed off better than might have been expected. Fred wasn't shy, and he talked to Gracie's parents as though he had known them all his life. If to be waited on by a maid, if to sup in a dining-room furnished in solid mahogany and afterwards to sit in a drawing-room that had a grand piano in it was new to him, he showed no embarrassment. After he had gone and they were alone in their bedroom Mr and Mrs Carter talked him over.
'He is handsome, you can't deny that,' she said.
'Handsome is as handsome does. D'you think he's after her money?'
'Well, he must know that you've got a tidy little bit tucked away somewhere, but he's in love with her all right.'
'Oh, what makes you think that?'
'Why, you've only got to see the way he looks at her.'
'Well, that's something at all events.'
In the end the Carters withdrew their opposition on the condition that the young things shouldn't marry until Gracie had taken her degree. That would give them a year, and at the back of their minds was the hope that by then she would have changed her mind. They saw a good deal of Fred after that. He spent every Sunday with them. Little by little they began quite to like him. He was so easy, so gay, so full of high spirits, and above all so obviously head over ears in love with Gracie, that Mrs Carter soon succumbed to his charm, and after a while even Mr Carter was prepared to admit that he didn't seem a bad fellow. Fred and Gracie were happy. She went to London every day to attend lectures and worked hard. They spent blissful evenings together. He gave her a very nice engagement ring and often took her out to dinner in the West End and to a play. On fine Sundays he drove her out into the country in a car that he said a friend had lent him. When she asked him if he could afford all the money he spent on her he laughed, and said a chap had given him a tip on an outsider and he'd made a packet. They talked interminably of the little flat they would have when they were married and the fun it would be to furnish it. They were more in love with one another than ever.
Then the blow fell. Fred was arrested for stealing money from the letters he collected. Many people, to save themselves the trouble of buying postal orders, put notes in their envelopes, and it wasn't difficult to tell that they were there. Fred went up for trial, pleaded guilty, and was sentenced to two years' hard labour. Gracie went to the trial. Up to the last moment she had hoped that he would be able to prove his innocence. It was a dreadful shock to her when he pleaded guilty. She was not allowed to see him. He went straight from the dock to the prison van. She went home and, locking herself up in her bedroom, threw herself on the bed and wept. When Mr Carter came back from the shop Gracie's mother went up to her room.
'Gracie, you're to come downstairs,' she said. 'Your father wants to speak to you.'
Gracie got up and went down. She did not trouble to dry her eyes.
'Seen the paper?' he said, holding out to her the Evening News. She didn't answer.
'Well, that's the end of that young man,' he went on harshly.
They too, Grade's parents, had been shocked when Fred was arrested, but she was so distressed, she was so convinced that everything could be explained, that they hadn't had the heart to tell her that she must have nothing more to do with him. But now they felt it time to have things out with her.