"I don't know whether you should be taking that, Lizzie. Does Ben know?"
She shook her head. "You won't tell him, will you? I wouldn't want him to know I was worried."
"No, I won't tell him. But will you see a doctor? I know you have to be careful with laudanum and things like that ...*'
"Grace says people have it for all sorts of things. It stops toothache. Though I haven't that ... but it makes you sleep. It really does."
"Do see a doctor, Lizzie, and make sure it is all right. He might give you something else to take for sleeplessness."
"Yes," she said.
"Look, Lizzie, you and I are going to see each other ... often. We have so much to talk about, and I shall bring Rebecca to see you. Morwenna will bring Pedrek."
"Promise," she said.
"I promise, and you will see a doctor. Now I think we ought to go down."
When we returned to the drawing room the men were already there.
We talked for a while in little groups. I saw Justin in earnest conversation with Grace. Ben came over to me. He sat close to me and asked if I had enjoyed the evening.
"Very interesting," I replied.
"And you approve of my house?"
"I think it is very suitable for your purposes."
"I take it that means approval. It is wonderful for me to see you here. You won't try to avoid me, will you?"
"I don't know. It depends on what happens."
"If I can see you sometimes life will be a great deal more tolerable to me.
"I thought it was highly tolerable. Here you are the epitome of success."
"It's rather an empty sort of success."
"Did you think of that when you were weighing up the carats? And now here you are poised to take parliamentary England by storm."
"How dramatic you are! You always were." He moved a little nearer to me. He was looking at me quizzically, I thought.
I said: "Don't be too effusive. People will notice."
"I don't see how I am going to hide my feelings for you."
"Then in the circumstances it would be better if we did not meet."
"Perhaps not in public. But somewhere ... alone."
"I have no intention of indulging in a clandestine adventure."
"We will meet somewhere. Let's go up the river ... somewhere where we can talk."
I ignored that. I said: "I have been talking to Lizzie. She is not very happy," I added.
He was silent.
I said: "Is it fair to take her gold mine and with the proceeds thrust her into a life she hates?"
"We share the mine," he said.
"I thought a married woman's property became her husband's. What a pernicious law!"
"I would not dream of taking from Lizzie what is hers," he said. "I try very hard to give her what she wants."
"I think what she wants is a quiet life in the country ... something rather like that which she enjoyed before her marriage."
"She will grow to like this. She was so pleased when she heard you were coming."
Grace had come over and taken the seat on the other side of Ben.
"It has been a most successful evening," she said. "I do congratulate you, Ben."
"It's not over yet," he reminded her.
"I thought it went very well indeed. I noticed Lord Lazenby was most amused by the cartoons of H.M."
"He would be. He is very anti-monarchy. I can't think why, with his background, he should be, except that he has always been perverse."
"It was great fun. Oh, look at poor Lizzie. She's all alone. Do come with me, Angelet. I must look after her."
"Yes," I said and we rose. Ben gave me a regretful look which I ignored; and we went and talked to Lizzie.
She was grateful and we stayed with her for the rest of the evening.
When I returned home I felt elated but melancholy. I was completely fascinated by Ben. I should have so much enjoyed helping him in his political battles. They said Mary Anne Disraeli was a wonderful wife to her husband. She herself had stated that he had married her for her money but if he had to do it again he would marry her for love. Perhaps it would be like that with Lizzie. Mrs. Disraeli always waited up for her husband to come home from the House and however late, she would have a cold supper waiting for him. "My dear," he was reputed to have said, "you are more like a mistress than a wife." Charming in its cynicism. But Lizzie was no Mary Anne Disraeli.
I felt very sad about the situation I had witnessed that night; and it was not only because I had had it brought home to me all that I had missed.
Poor Lizzie, she would never change. When I looked into her clear blue eyes I could see her struggling with herself. Grace had been good to her but Grace could not be beside her all the time ... as had been seen tonight.
I wondered what would happen. There was no doubt that Ben would succeed and when he was high up the greasy pole—another Disraeli allusion—how could she help him stay up there? How would an eminent politician feel when his wife would be more at home on the Australian goldfields than in her husband's luxurious home?
Fanny
The children liked to be together, and we arranged that one day Rebecca would go to the Cartwright house and on the next Pedrek should come to mine. This gave Morwenna and me time to shop and do many things which would otherwise have been difficult, for neither of us wished to leave our children entirely to servants.
It was on one of these days when I decided to take up the invitation Frances and Peterkin had given me to visit their Mission again.
When I told Helena of this she said I would find it interesting and perhaps a little heartrending for people had no idea of the suffering which was endured by others. Matthew was deeply aware of and had talked to her about it. He had discovered a great deal when he was gathering material for his books; and Frances and Peterkin could tell some very sad stories.
She said she would have me driven down there in the morning and send the carriage to pick me up.
There was no need, I told her, I would get a cab.
"You might get one to take you there, but I doubt you would pick up one to bring you back."
So I set off in the middle of the morning and as I was driven eastwards I was struck by the change. The streets of London had always interested me; they were so full of life; in that area which I knew best the houses were large and elegant; there were many garden squares and the parks added a delightful suggestion of the countryside. The Row, the Serpentine, the Palace where the Queen had spent her childhood—they were all delightful to the eyes. But what a contrast when we came to the mean streets.
The vitality had increased. There was noise everywhere. People seemed to talk at the top of their voices. We kept to the main road but I glimpsed side streets. I saw grim-looking children, bare-footed; I saw stalls onto which seemed to have been crowded every commodity one could think of ... from chests of drawers to fly papers. There were women selling pins and needles, and men selling hot pies; there were men sitting on the pavements doing something with counters which I presumed was some sort of game; there were ballad singers who gave demonstrations of their goods. There was noise and bustle everywhere.
The Mission was a tall square building which had, at one time, been two houses built at a time when there had been a certain affluence in the district.
The door was open and I stepped into a large hall. It was lofty and there was no furniture apart from a table and a chair. On the table there was a bell so I rang this. Almost at once a young woman appeared. She was tall, large-boned, with untidy hair, and wearing a coat-like overall.
I thought she was a servant until she spoke.