The Paying Guest - George Gissing (story read aloud txt) 📗
- Author: George Gissing
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‘There’s no harm in saying that to me, Louise,’ replied Mrs. Mumford. ‘But pray be careful not to seem “forward.” People think—and say—such disagreeable things.’
Miss Derrick was grateful, and again gave an assurance that repose and modesty should be the rule of her life.
At the theatre on Monday evening she exhibited a childlike enjoyment which her companions could not but envy. The freshness of her sensibilities was indeed remarkable, and Emmeline observed with pleasure that her mind seemed to have a very wholesome tone. Louise might commit follies, and be guilty of bad taste to any extent, but nothing in her savoured of depravity.
Tuesday she spent at home, pretending to read a little, and obviously thinking a great deal. On Wednesday morning she proposed of a sudden that Emmeline should go up to town with her on a shopping expedition. They had already turned over her wardrobe, numerous articles whereof were condemned by Mrs. Mumford’s taste, and by Louise cheerfully sacrificed; she could not rest till new purchases had been made. So, after early luncheon, they took train to Victoria, Louise insisting that all the expenses should be hers. By five o’clock she had laid out some fifteen pounds, vastly to her satisfaction. They took tea at a restaurant, and reached Sutton not long before Mumford’s return.
On Friday they went to London again, to call upon Mrs. Grove. Louise promised that this should be her last “outing” for a whole week. She admitted a feeling of restlessness, but after to-day she would overcome it. And that night she apologised formally to Mumford for taking his wife so much from home.
‘Please don’t think I shall always be running about like this. I feel that I’m settling down. We are going to be very comfortable and quiet.’
And, to the surprise of her friends, more than a week went by before she declared that a day in town was absolutely necessary. Mr. Higgins had sent her a fresh supply of money, as there were still a few things she needed to purchase. But this time Emmeline begged her to go alone, and Louise seemed quite satisfied with the arrangement.
Early in the afternoon, as Mrs. Mumford was making ready to go out, the servant announced to her that a gentleman had called to see Miss Derrick; on learning that Miss Derrick was away, he had asked sundry questions, and ended by requesting an interview with Mrs. Mumford. His name was Cobb.
‘Show him into the drawing-room,’ said Emmeline, a trifle agitated. ‘I will be down in a few moments.’
Beset by anxious anticipations, she entered the room, and saw before her a figure not wholly unlike what she had imagined: a wiry, resolute-looking man, with knitted brows, lips close-set, and heavy feet firmly planted on the carpet. He was respectably dressed, but nothing more, and in his large bare hands held a brown hat marked with a grease spot. One would have judged him a skilled mechanic. When he began to speak, his blunt but civil phrases were in keeping with this impression. He had not the tone of an educated man, yet committed no vulgar errors.
‘My name is Cobb. I must beg your pardon for troubling you. Perhaps you have heard of me from Miss Derrick?’
‘Yes, Mr. Cobb, your name has been mentioned,’ Emmeline replied nervously. ‘Will you sit down?’
‘Thank you, I will.’
He twisted his hat about, and seemed to prepare with difficulty the next remark, which at length burst, rather than fell, from his lips.
‘I wanted to see Miss Derrick. I suppose she is still living with you? They told me so.’
A terrible man, thought Emmeline, when roused to anger; his words must descend like sledge-hammers. And it would not take much to anger him. For all that, he had by no means a truculent countenance. He was trying to smile, and his features softened agreeably enough. The more closely she observed him, the less grew Emmeline’s wonder that Louise felt an interest in the man.
‘Miss Derrick is likely to stay with us for some time, I believe. She has only gone to town, to do some shopping.’
‘I see. When I met her last she talked a good deal about you, Mrs. Mumford, and that’s why I thought I would ask to see you. You have a good deal of influence over her.’
‘Do you think so?’ returned Emmeline, not displeased. ‘I hope I may use it for her good.’
‘So do I. But—well, it comes to this, Mrs. Mumford. She seemed to hint—though she didn’t exactly say so—that you were advising her to have nothing more to do with me. Of course you don’t know me, and I’ve no doubt you do what you think the best for her. I should feel it a kindness if you would just tell me whether you are really persuading her to think no more about me.’
It was an alarming challenge. Emmeline’s fears returned; she half expected an outbreak of violence. The man was growing very nervous, and his muscles showed the working of strong emotion.
‘I have given her no such advice, Mr. Cobb,’ she answered, with an attempt at calm dignity. ‘Miss Derrick’s private affairs don’t at all concern me. In such matters as this she is really quite old enough to judge for herself.’
‘That’s what I should have said,’ remarked Mr. Cobb sturdily. ‘I hope you’ll excuse me; I don’t wish to make myself offensive. After what she said to me when we met last, I suppose most men would just let her go her own way. But—but somehow I can’t do that. The thing is, I can’t trust what she says; I don’t believe she knows her own mind. And so long as you tell me that you’re not interfering—I mean, that you don’t think it right to set her against me—’
‘I assure you, nothing of the kind.’
There was a brief silence, then Cobb’s voice again sounded with blunt emphasis.
‘We’re neither of us very good-tempered. We’ve known each other about a year, and we must have quarrelled about fifty times.’
‘Do you think, then,’ ventured the hostess, ‘that it would ever be possible for you to live peacefully together?’
‘Yes, I do,’ was the robust answer. ‘It would be a fight for the upper hand, but I know who’d get it, and after that things would be all right.’
Emmeline could not restrain a laugh, and her visitor joined in it with a heartiness which spoke in his favour.
‘I promise you, Mr. Cobb, that I will do nothing whatever against your interests.’
‘That’s very kind of you, and it’s all I wanted to know.’
He stood up. Emmeline, still doubtful how to behave, asked him if he would call on another day, when Miss Derrick might be at home.
‘It’s only by chance I was able to get here this afternoon,’ he replied. ‘I haven’t much time to go running about after her, and that’s where I’m at a disadvantage. I don’t know whether there’s anyone else, and I’m not asking you to tell me, if you know. Of course I have to take my chance; but so long as you don’t speak against me—and she thinks a great deal of your advice—’
‘I’m very glad to be assured of that. All I shall do, Mr. Cobb, is to keep before her mind the duty of behaving straightforwardly.’
‘That’s the thing! Nobody can ask more than that.’
Emmeline hesitated, but could not dismiss him without shaking hands. That he did not offer to do so until invited, though he betrayed no sense of social inferiority, seemed another point in his favour.
Not half an hour after Cobb’s departure Louise returned. Emmeline was surprised to see her back so soon; they met near the railway station as Mrs. Mumford was on her way to a shop in High Street.
‘Isn’t it good of me! If I had stayed longer I should have gone home to quarrel with Cissy; but I struggled against the temptation. Going to the grocer’s? Oh, do let me go with you, and see how you do that kind of thing. I never gave an order at the grocer’s in my life—no, indeed I never did. Mother and Cissy have always looked after that. And I want to learn about housekeeping; you promised to teach me.’
Emmeline made no mention of Mr. Cobb’s call until they reached the house.
‘He came here!’ Louise exclaimed, reddening. ‘What impudence! I shall at once write and tell him that his behaviour is outrageous. Am I to be hunted like this?’
Her wrath seemed genuine enough; but she was vehemently eager to learn all that had passed. Emmeline made a truthful report.
‘You’re quite sure that was all? Oh, his impertinence! Well, and now that you’ve seen him, don’t you understand how—how impossible it is?’
‘I shall say nothing more about it, Louise. It isn’t my business to—’
The girl’s face threatened a tempest. As Emmeline was moving away, she rudely obstructed her.
‘I insist on you telling me what you think. It was abominable of him to come when I wasn’t at home; and I don’t think you ought to have seen him. You’ve no right to keep your thoughts to yourself!’
Mrs. Mumford was offended, and showed it.
‘I have a perfect right, and I shall do so. Please don’t let us quarrel. You may be fond of it, but I am not.’
Louise went from the room and remained invisible till just before dinner, when she came down with a grave and rather haughty countenance. To Mumford’s remarks she replied with curt formality; he, prepared for this state of things, began conversing cheerfully with his wife, and Miss Derrick kept silence. After dinner, she passed out into the garden.
‘It won’t do,’ said Mumford. ‘The house is upset. I’m afraid we shall have to get rid of her.’
‘If she can’t behave herself, I’m afraid we must. It’s my fault. I ought to have known that it would never do.’
At half-past ten, Louise was still sitting out of doors in the dark. Emmeline, wishing to lock up for the night, went to summon her troublesome guest.
‘Hadn’t you better come in?’
‘Yes. But I think you are very unkind, Mrs. Mumford.’
‘Miss Derrick, I really can’t do anything but leave you alone when you are in such an unpleasant hum our.’
‘But that’s just what you oughtn’t to do. When I’m left alone I sulk, and that’s bad for all of us. If you would just get angry and give me what I deserve, it would be all over very soon.’
‘You are always talking about “nice” people. Nice people don’t have scenes of that kind.’
‘No, I suppose not. And I’m very sorry, and if you’ll let me beg your pardon—. There, and we might have made it up hours ago. I won’t ask you to tell me what you think of Mr. Cobb. I’ve written him the kind of letter his impudence deserves.’
‘Very well. We won’t talk of it any more. And if you could be a little quieter in your manners, Louise—’
‘I will, I promise I will! Let me say good-night to Mr. Mumford.’
For a day or two there was halcyon weather. On Saturday afternoon Louise hired a carriage and took her friends for a drive into the country; at her special request the child accompanied them. Nothing could have been more delightful. She had quite made up her mind to have a house, some day, at Sutton. She hoped the Mumfords would “always” live there, that they might perpetually enjoy each other’s society. What were the rents? she inquired. Well, to begin with, she
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