there was only one exit from the t. t. riceyman premises—through the shop. once a door had given direct access to king's cross road, but so long ago that the new bricks which had bricked it up were now scarcely distinguishable from the surrounding bricks. no one could have guessed at a glance that the main fa?ade of the building had been shifted round, for some reason lost in antiquity, from king's cross road to riceyman steps; or that the little oblong, railing-enclosed strip of grass, which was never cut nor clipped nor trodden by human foot, had once been a "front garden." the back parts of t. t. riceyman's provided no escape save through a little yard, over high brick walls, into the back parts of other properties inhabited by unknown and probably pernickety persons and their children.
as there was only the shop exit from the t. t. riceyman premises, it could not be concealed from the powers that elsie went forth that same afternoon dressed in her best. unusual array, for the girl generally began half-holidays by helping her friends, to whom she was very faithful, in riceyman square, either by skilled cleansing labour in the unclean dirty house or, as occasion might demand, by taking children out for an excursion into the more romantic leafy regions of clerkenwell up towards the north-east, such as myddelton square, where there was room to play and opportunity for tumbling about in pleasant outdoor dirt. mrs. earlforward nodded to elsie as she departed, and elsie blushed, smiling. but mrs. earlforward asked no curious question, friendly or inquisitive. she knew her place, as elsie knew elsie's.[pg 177] she knew that it was not "wise" to meddle. servants must do what they liked with their own; they were mighty independent, even the best of them, these days. not a word, save on household matters, had passed between the two women since the scene of the morning. mr. earlforward was still dealing with customers in the office; his voice, rather enfeebled, seemed blander than ever.
"i hope it will be fine for you," violet called after elsie at the shop-door. wonderful, the implications in the tone of that briefly-expressed amiability! it was as if violet had said: "i know you're up to something out of the ordinary. i don't know what it is, and i don't seek to inquire. i believe in people minding their own business. but you might have given me a hint, and anyhow i can see through you, though you mayn't think it. anyhow, in spite of the cold wind and the big moving clouds, i hope you won't be inconvenienced in your very private affairs by the weather."
elsie comprehended all that violet had not said, and her blushes flared out again.
no sooner had she turned the corner into the king's cross road than she ceased to be the "general" at t. t. riceyman's, and became the image of the wife of a superior artisan with a maternal expression indicating a small family left at home, a sense of grave responsibilities, an ability to initiate and execute, considerable dignity. she had put her gloves on. she carried her umbrella. she had massiveness, and looked more than her age; indeed, she looked close on thirty. if she had blushed to violet, it was because of her errand, which, had violet known of it, would have set up serious friction. elsie was going to see dr. raste about the state of health of t. t. riceyman's. an impossible errand, of course! fancy a servant interfering thus in the most intimate affairs of her employers. but the welfare of her employers was as dear to elsie as her own. her finest virtue was benevolence, and she was quite ready to affront danger to a benevolent end. at the same time it has to be[pg 178] admitted that elsie's motive in going to myddelton square, without a train of children, to see dr. raste, was not a single motive. probably in human activity there is no such a thing as a single motive. for elsie this day was not chiefly the day on which mrs. earlforward had so piteously broken down before her as to mr. earlforward's physical and mental condition—it was chiefly the anniversary of joe's disappearance. the fact of the anniversary filled all the horizon of elsie's thoughts, and at intervals it surged inwards upon her from every quarter of the compass and overwhelmed her—and then it would recede again. joe had been in the service of dr. raste. he had lived at dr. raste's. therefore, it would be natural for him, if he reappeared, to reappear first at dr. raste's. he would not reappear; it was inconceivable that he should reappear. this anniversary notion of hers, as she had often said to herself, was ridiculous. much more likely that joe had married some other girl by this time, for elsie knew that he was not a man capable of doing without women. he had probably settled down somewhere. where? where could he be?... and yet he might reappear. the anniversary notion might not be so ridiculous after all. you never knew. and herein was part of her motive for going to dr. raste's.
the doctor's house—or, rather, the house of which he occupied the lower part—was one of the larger houses in the historic myddelton square, and stood at the corner of the square and new river street. the clock of st. mark's showed two minutes to the hour, but already patients had collected in the ante-room to the surgery in the side-street. elsie hesitated exactly at the corner. from detailed and absorbing talks about nothing with joe, she knew the doctor's habits pretty well. the doctor was due to be entering his surgery for the afternoon session. and there he was—it seemed almost a miracle—approaching from the eastward! a little girl, all thin legs and thin arms, was trotting by his side, and the retinue consisted of a fox-terrier, who was joyfully chasing[pg 179] a few selected leaves among the thousands blown across the square by the obstreperous wind. the doctor and his little girl stopped at their front-door.
"very well," elsie heard the doctor say, "you can give jack his bath, but you must change your frock first, and if there's any mess of any sort i shan't take your part when mummy comes home."
the dog stood still, listening, and the doctor turned to him and ejaculated loudly and mischievously:
"bath! bath!"
jack's tail dropped, and in deep sulks he walked off towards the railings in the middle of the square.
"come here, sir" commanded the doctor firmly.
"come here, sir!" shrieked the little girl in imitation.
jack obeyed, totally disillusioned about the interestingness of dead leaves, and slipped in a flash down the area steps, the child after him. dr. raste moved towards the surgery, and saw elsie in his path.
"no! no!" he said to her, kindly, humanly, for he had not yet had time to lose his fatherhood. "this won't do, you know. you must take your turn with the rest." he raised his hand in protest. he was acquainted with all the wiles of patients who wanted illicitly to forestall other patients.
"it isn't for myself, sir," said elsie, with puckered brow, very nervous. "it's for mr. earlforward—at least, mrs. earlforward."
"oh!" the doctor halted.
"you don't remember me, sir. mrs. sprickett, sir. elsie, sir."
"yes, of course." he ought to have proceeded: "by the way, elsie, joe's come back to-day." it would have been too wonderful if he had said that. but he didn't. he merely said: "well, what's it all about?" somewhat impatiently, for at that moment the clock struck.
"mr. earlforward's that bad, sir. can't fancy his food. and mrs. earlforward's bad too——"
"mrs. earlforward? is he married, then?"
"oh, yes, sir. he married mrs. arb, as was; she[pg 180] kept that confectioner's shop opposite in the steps. but she sold it. and i'm the servant, sir, now. it'll soon be a year ago, sir."
"really, really! all right. i'll look in—some time before six. tell them i'll look in."
"well, sir," said elsie, hesitating and blushing very red, "missis didn't exactly send me, in a manner of speaking. she says master won't have a doctor, she says. but i was thinking if you could——"
"do you mean to say you've come up here to tell me about your master and mistress without orders?"
"well, sir——"
"but—but—but—but—but," dr. raste spluttered with the utmost rapidity, startled for once out of his inhuman imperturbability by this monstrous act of elsie's. he had no child nor dog now. he was the medico chemically pure. "did you suppose that i can come like that without being called in? i never heard of such a thing. what next, i wonder?"
"he's very bad, sir, master is."
the slim little man stood up threateningly against elsie's mighty figure.
"what do i care? if people need a doctor, they must send for him."
dr. raste walked off down new river street, but after a few steps turned again.
"haven't they got any friends you could speak to?" he asked in a tone still hard, but with a touch of comprehending friendliness in it. this touch brought tears to elsie's silly eyes.
"no, sir."
"no friends?"
"no, sir."
"nobody ever calls?"
"no, sir."
"and they never go out?"
"no, sir."
"not even to the cinema, and so on?"
"oh, never, sir."[pg 181]
"well, i'm very sorry, but i can't do anything." he left her and leapt up his surgery steps.
not a word about joe. not a word, even, of inquiry! and yet he knew that joe and she had been keeping company! and he had been so fond of joe. he had thought the world of joe. he might, at least, have said: "seen anything of poor joe lately?" but nothing! nothing! joe might never have existed for all the interest the doctor showed in him. it was desolating. she was a fool. she was a fool to try to get the doctor to call without a proper summons, and she was thrice a fool to have hoped or fancied that joe would turn up again, on either the anniversary of his vanishing or any other day. the reaction from foolish hope to despair was terrible. she had known that it would be. the whole sky fell down on her and overwhelmed her in choking folds of night, and there was not a gleam anywhere. no glimmer for t. t. riceyman's. no glimmer for herself. ... and then she did detect a pin-point of light. the day was not yet finished. joe might still ... renewal of utter foolishness!
