‘But what will you do, Louise,’ asked Mrs. Mumford, ‘if Mr. Higgins is quite determined?’
‘Do? Oh! I shall settle it easy enough. I shall write at once to the old man and tell him I’m getting on so nicely in every way that I couldn’t dream of leaving you. It’s all nonsense, you’ll see.’
Emmeline and her husband held a council that night, and resolved that, whatever the issue of Louise’s appeal to her stepfather, this was a very good opportunity for getting rid of their guest. They would wait till Louise made known the upshot of her negotiations. It seemed probable that Mr. Higgins would spare them the unpleasantness of telling Miss Derrick she must leave. If not, that disagreeable necessity must be faced.
‘I had rather cut down expenses all round,’ said Emmeline, ‘than have our home upset in this way. It isn’t like home at all. Louise is a whirlwind, and the longer she stays, the worse it’ll be.’
‘Yes, it won’t do at all,’ Mumford assented. ‘By the bye, I met Bilton to-day, and he asked after Miss Derrick. I didn’t like his look or his tone at all. I feel quite sure there’s a joke going round at our expense. Confound it!’
‘Never mind. It’ll be over in a day or two, and it’ll be a lesson to you, Clarence, won’t it?’
‘I quite admit that the idea was mine,’ her husband replied, rather irritably. ‘But it wasn’t I who accepted the girl as a suitable person.’
‘And certainly it wasn’t me!’ rejoined Emmeline. ‘You will please to remember that I said again and again—’
‘Oh, hang it, Emmy! We made a blunder, both of us, and don’t let us make it worse by wrangling about it. There you are; people of that class bring infection into the house. If she stayed here a twelvemonth, we should have got to throwing things at each other.’
The answer to Louise’s letter of remonstrance came in the form of Mrs. Higgins herself Shortly before luncheon that lady drove up to “Runnymede” in a cab, and her daughter, who had just returned from a walk, was startled to hear of the arrival.
‘You’ve got to come home with me, Lou,’ Mrs. Higgins began, as she wiped her perspiring face. ‘I’ve promised to have you back by this afternoon. Dada’s right down angry; you wouldn’t know him. He blames everything on to you, and you’d better just come home quiet.’
‘I shall do nothing of the kind,’ answered Louise, her temper rising.
Mrs. Higgins glared at her and began to rail; the voice was painfully audible to Emmeline, who just then passed through the hall. Miss Derrick gave as good as she received; a battle raged for some minutes, differing from many a former conflict only in the moderation of pitch and vocabulary due to their being in a stranger’s house.
‘Then you won’t come?’ cried the mother at length. ‘I’ve had my journey for nothing, have I? Then just go and fetch Mrs. What’s-her-name. She must hear what I’ve got to say.’
‘Mrs. Mumford isn’t at home,’ answered Louise, with bold mendacity. ‘And a very good thing too. I should be sorry for her to see you in the state you’re in.’
‘I’m in no more of a state than you are, Louise! And just you listen to this. Not one farthing more will you have from ‘ome—not one farthing! And you may think yourself lucky if you still ‘ave a ‘ome. For all I know, you’ll have to earn your own living, and I’d like to hear how you mean to do it. As soon as I get back I shall write to Mrs. What’s-her-name and tell her that nothing will be paid for you after the week that’s due and the week that’s for notice. Now just take heed of what you’re doing, Lou. It may have more serious results than you think for.’
‘I’ve thought all I’m going to think,’ replied the girl. ‘I shall stay here as long as I like, and be indebted neither to you nor to stepfather.’
Mrs. Mumford breathed a sigh of thankfulness that she was not called upon to take part in this scene. It was bad enough that the servant engaged in laying lunch could hear distinctly Mrs. Higgins’s coarse and violent onslaught. When the front door at length closed she rejoiced, but with trembling; for the words that fell upon her ear from the hall announced too plainly that Louise was determined to stay.
CHAPTER V
Miss Derrick had gone back into the drawing-room, and, to Emmeline’s surprise, remained there. This retirement was ominous; the girl must be taking some resolve. Emmeline, on her part, braced her courage for the step on which she had decided. Luncheon awaited them, but it would be much better to arrive at an understanding before they sat down to the meal. She entered the room and found Louise leaning on the back of a chair.
‘I dare say you heard the row,’ Miss Derrick remarked coldly. ‘I’m very sorry, but nothing of that kind shall happen again.’
Her countenance was disturbed, she seemed to be putting a restraint upon herself, and only with great effort to subdue her voice.
‘What are you going to do?’ asked Emmeline, in a friendly tone, but, as it were, from a distance.
‘I am going to ask you to do me a great kindness, Mrs. Mumford.’
There was no reply. The girl paused a moment, then resumed impulsively.
‘Mr. Higgins says that if I don’t come home, he won’t let me have any more money. They’re going to write and tell you that they won’t be responsible after this for my board and lodging. Of course I shall not go home; I shouldn’t dream of it; I’d rather earn my living as—as a scullery maid. I want to ask you, Mrs. Mumford, whether you will let me stay on, and trust me to pay what I owe you. It won’t be for very long, and I promise you I will pay, every penny.’
The natural impulse of Emmeline’s disposition was to reply with hospitable kindliness; she found it very difficult to maintain her purpose; it shamed her to behave like the ordinary landlady, to appear actuated by mean motives. But the domestic strain was growing intolerable, and she felt sure that Clarence would be exasperated if her weakness prolonged it.
‘Now do let me advise you, Louise,’ she answered gently. ‘Are you acting wisely? Wouldn’t it be very much better to go home?’,
Louise lost all her self-control. Flushed with anger, her eyes glaring, she broke into vehement exclamations.
‘You want to get rid of me! Very well, I’ll go this moment. I was going to tell you something; but you don’t care what becomes of me. I’ll send for my luggage; you shan’t be troubled with it long. And you’ll be paid all that’s owing. I didn’t think you were one of that kind. I’ll go this minute.’
‘Just as you please,’ said Emmeline, ‘Your temper is really so very—’
‘Oh, I know. It’s always my temper, and nobody else is ever to blame. I wouldn’t stay another night in the house, if I had to sleep on the Downs!’
She flung out of the room and flew upstairs. Emmeline, angered by this unwarrantable treatment, determined to hold aloof, and let the girl do as she would. Miss Derrick was of full age, and quite capable of taking care of herself, or at all events ought to be. Perhaps this was the only possible issue of the difficulties in which they had all become involved; neither Louise nor her parents could be dealt with in the rational, peaceful way preferred by well-conditioned people. To get her out of the house was the main point; if she chose to depart in a whirlwind, that was her own affair. All but certainly she would go home, tomorrow if not to-day.