A Knight on Wheels Part 52

"Yes," said Philip. He explained the nature of his trip.

"They were saying at Oxford Street," pursued Miss Jennings, with the air of one who is anxious to avoid all appearance of asking for information, "that you were going to be made a partner."

"It was talked about," said Philip, "but nothing at all came of it. They wanted me to risk rather more capital in the business than I happen to possess."

"Don't you worry about capital, Mr. Meldrum," said Miss Jennings. "It's your brains they're after. Bob Br--a gentleman I know told me that he had heard from some one behind the scenes that they don't mean to let you go at any price. They can't afford to have your inventions taken up by other people. It was just a try-on, telling you you must put a lot of money into the business. Next time they mention the matter, you name your terms and _stick_ to them!"

Philip thanked her.

"Of course I've no call," admitted Miss Jennings, "to be giving you advice. But I wasn't born with my mouth sewn up, and you never were one to put yourself forward, were you?"

Philip admitted that possibly this was true, and the conversation pa.s.sed to the inevitable topic of old times and old friends.

"How is Brand, by the way?" asked Philip. "He was an admirer of yours, I believe?"

"Brand?" said Miss Jennings carelessly. "Oh--the mechanic? I believe he is getting on very well. First foreman, then manager of the garage; and now that you are gone he and Mr. Rendle pretty well own the earth between them, so I gather. Brand is quite the gentleman now. I hear he has given up making a spectacle of himself in the Park of a Sunday. Mr.

Rendle is the same as ever. He misses you at the flat, though."

"You seem to know all about our domestic arrangements," said Philip, much amused.

"n.o.body that wasn't born deaf-and-dumb," said Miss Jennings with decision, "could see Mr. Rendle six hours a day for six days a week without knowing every blessed thing about him, and a jolly sight more, from his own lips. His young ladies, and everything! He brought one to Oxford Street, the other day. He told me afterwards--"

"What was she like?" asked Philip instantly.

"I didn't notice her particularly. She was in the show-room looking at motors most of the time, and only stepped into the office for a minute.

She was quite simply dressed, it being the morning, but her clothes were good all through. I picked up two or three ideas for myself straight off. Shoes, for one thing. Hers were the neatest I ever saw--brown _suede_ with silver buckles. No cheap American ready-mades, or anything of that kind. As for her coat and skirt, you could see they'd been cut by a tailor, and her hat was one of these simple little things that fit close to the head and look as if they could be put together for half-nothing; but I know better. It came out of--"

"What was she like?" repeated a patient voice.

"I'm trying to tell you," replied Miss Jennings, a little offended.

"Yes, but her appearance? Not her clothes."

Miss Jennings pondered.

"I didn't really have time to notice her appearance," she said at length; "but she was what I should call a middling blonde. She was wearing one of those new blouses, with a V-shaped--"

"I think it must have been Miss Falconer," said Philip, with an air of great detachment.

"Yes, that was the name," replied Miss Jennings. "Mr. Rendle told me he was very sorry for her. He said thousands of gentlemen were in love with her--you know the silly way he talks--"

"Yes," said Philip, with a gulp. "Well?"

"But she could never marry any of them."

"Why, I wonder?"

"Because of her father," explained the everready Miss Jennings. "She won't ever leave him, him being a widower, and very peculiar in his manner, and unable to look after himself. A bit silly-like, from all accounts. Seems to me to be asking a good lot of a girl, to stay at home to look after an old image like that. That's only supposing, of course, that she _wants_ to marry one of these thousands of hers. She's welcome to the lot, so far as I'm concerned."

"Yes, rather!" agreed Philip absently.

So _that_ was the reason! And he had never guessed. Well, it made his own chances no brighter, but it took a load from his mind. Peggy was back on a higher pedestal than ever, and her silent knight could now wors.h.i.+p her without reservation. She was acquitted for all time of the charge of being hard, or callous, or unfeminine.

The Bosphorus was rolling heavily when Philip rose next morning, but his sea-legs were good, and he proceeded to his toilet with no particular pangs save those of hunger. After shaving he put on a dressing-gown and staggered along an alleyway in search of a bath. Presently an illuminated sign informed him that he had reached his destination. He turned into the first empty bathroom, where a man in a white jacket was tidying up after the last occupant.

"Bath, please," said Philip. "Chill just off."

The man turned his back and set going a spouting cataract, and the bath was half-full of salt water in less than a minute. There are no corporation restrictions or half-inch pipes in oceanic bathrooms: you simply open a sluice and let in as much of the Atlantic as you require.

The man next lowered a long hinged pipe into the bottom of the bath, and gave a twist to a little valve-wheel on the wall. Straightway a violent subaqueous crackling announced that live steam from the boilers was performing its allotted task of taking the chill off.

"That will do, thank you," said Philip presently.

The bath-steward turned off the valve, and the crackling ceased. Philip sat down upon the edge of the bath.

"Well, Brand," he said, "how does the Bosphorus compare with Oxford Street?"

He held out his hand, and Mr. Brand, having overcome his surprise, shook it resentfully.

"I suppose you are surprised to come across me here," he remarked defiantly.

"Not altogether," replied Philip, thinking of the second cla.s.s; "but I did not expect to find you swabbing bathrooms."

"I wasn't going to waste good money travelling as a pa.s.senger," said Brand sullenly. "I tried to get taken on in the engine-room, but they wouldn't look at me without marine engineering experience; so I had to be content with this. It's only for a week."

"You aren't coming back, then?"

"It depends," said Brand shortly. "Not at present."

"Have you given up the Britannia Company?"

"Yes: handed in me resignation Friday afternoon."

"What on earth for? You were climbing to the top of the tree there."

"I preferred to be on the ground," said Brand oracularly.

Philip decided not to press for information.

"Still, I'm sorry," he said.

"Why? I wasn't fired, if that's what you mean," said Brand swiftly.

At this moment another pa.s.senger came tacking down the alleyway, and Brand departed in the further execution of his official duties.

There are no facilities upon ocean liners for promoting social intercourse between bath-stewards and cabin pa.s.sengers, so Philip did not see Brand again until the same hour the following morning.