A Woman's Burden Part 37

"Oh yes, Hilda. I won't say a word about it, I promise."

"That's a good boy. Now put away the work-box quickly, just as you found it, and don't tell Miriam even that you were playing with it." She kissed him, and slipped the deed into her dress. d.i.c.ky put back the trinkets and replaced the box.

She felt she could rely on the boy's not betraying her, and she congratulated herself on the success of her plan. She could bear Miriam in the drawing-room now. Hurriedly she picked up a copy of the _Strand_ Magazine which d.i.c.ky had been looking at and gave it to him.

"We must go to tea, d.i.c.ky. Come along, bring your book with you."

At that moment Miriam called.

"That boy's simply crazy about pictures," said Hilda, as she entered the room. "I can't get him away from them." She looked at d.i.c.ky hard. He seemed to understand--it was to him all part of a glorious surprise for Miriam. And the element of secrecy appealed to him irresistibly.

"What's he got--the _Strand_ Magazine?" said Miriam, catching sight of the well-known cover. "Oh, that's Gerald's--he's never happy without his _Strand_."

"It is an awfully jolly magazine, Miss Crane--I wish mother would get it."

"Ah, here is Gerald," exclaimed Hilda, as at that moment he entered the room. "Speak of angels and you hear their wings."

"That's dangerously suggestive of another phrase more often applied in the same circ.u.mstances--and rather more apt in this case too, I fancy!"

With heightened colour he came forward and took her outstretched hand.

He was quite unable to conceal his emotion at this unexpected meeting.

"I didn't hear you come in, Gerald," said his wife in surprise.

At the sound of her voice some of his self-possession returned to him.

"No, I stole a march on you--unawares--got awfully sick of the office, so I chucked it for to-day."

Miriam looked at him uneasily. This sort of thing was continually happening. She was thankful at least he was himself in other ways.

"Well, Mrs. Dundas, I must certainly congratulate you--I don't know when I've seen you look so well."

"Why don't you call her Hilda?" put in the convivial d.i.c.ky. "I hate Mrs.

Dundas."

"Do you? Well, you see, there are certain difficulties in the way, d.i.c.ky. In the first place we are all very much 'grown-up' now; indeed, I don't know that strictly speaking we oughtn't to call you 'Mr. Darrow.'

Besides, if I were to call Mrs. Dundas by her Christian name, she might reprimand me severely."

"What nonsense you talk, Gerald," put in that young lady; "there, you see, I take the wind out of your sails at once--I am sure Mrs. Arkel doesn't mind. Do you?" she turned to Miriam with the sweetest of smiles.

"I--indeed no. Surely you are old enough friends for that. Well, we're relations too, now, in a sort of way, aren't we, Hilda?"

"I suppose we are--cousins by marriage."

"I'm a cousin by marriage too," announced d.i.c.ky; with his mouth full of cake; "we're all cousins."

"In that case, d.i.c.ky, let me give you cousinly advice--not to speak with your mouth full!"

"No, Miss Crane--I won't."

"Hullo, young man," cried Gerald; "and who's Miss Crane I'd like to know?"

"This is, of course--your Mrs. Arkel, but _my_ Miss Crane. She ought to have waited till I was grown up, and I'd have married her," said d.i.c.ky with all the solemnity in the world.

"You precocious young rascal," laughed Arkel, ruffling the boy's hair.

"Are you staying for any time in town, Hilda?"

"No, only for a few days. But, Gerald, this is an unexpected pleasure to see _you_. I thought you had joined the n.o.ble army of toilers in the city, and weren't visible except by night?"

"Nor am I, as a rule. Needs must you know when a certain gentleman's on the box. But, as I was telling my wife, to-day I felt I couldn't stand the place, so I toddled home. It's a case of reward for a lapse from virtue for once in a way."

"Well, hard work's good for you, I've no doubt. At all events, you had plenty of play once," said Hilda, putting on her gloves and rising to go.

"Yes, this is the swing of the pendulum, I suppose. But, by Jove, if ever it swings back again, I'll take jolly good care it sticks there until I shuffle off, anyhow."

And Miriam sighed, knowing only too well how true that was.

"Well, come along, d.i.c.ky, we must be off; the Major'll be waiting, and he hates that. I've managed a good many things with the Major, but I've never managed to imbue him with a sense of patience."

The boy rose rather reluctantly. He would so much rather have stayed with Miriam. He had not had her to himself at all. Gerald put on his hat and coat.

"You must let me come some of the way with you," he said.

"Oh, no, Gerald, you mustn't leave Miriam--I'm sure she----"

"Oh, please don't think about me. It's so dull for Gerald. I'm only too glad for him to enjoy himself when he can."

There was a rather embarra.s.sing silence for a few minutes. Then Hilda imprinted upon Miriam's cheek the kiss of Judas, and they left.

"Jove, she's about right," said Arkel, when they were out of earshot. "I should think it is dull. I never realised before, Hilda, how much London was the rich man's paradise and the poor man's Sheol."

"Oh, come, Gerald, it's not so bad as all that, surely. You're out of sorts to-day."

He did not reply, but hailed a four-wheeler that was pa.s.sing.

"Oh, Gerald, why did you do that? I do dislike these dirty growlers,"

she said.

"You won't get a decent hansom in this G.o.d-forsaken part of the world.

Better take this now."

"Very well, I suppose we must."

"And may I sit beside the driver?" said d.i.c.ky. "I should like to awfully."

"Oh, I don't know, dear. I am afraid of your catching cold."

"No fear of that," replied Gerald. "It's quite warm, and he's well wrapped up. Jump in, Hilda."