The Penguin Book of the British Short Story, Volume 1 Page 32

  What you lay yourself open to my dear in the way of being the object of uncharitable suspicions when you go into the Lodging business I have not the words to tell you, but never was I so dishonourable as to have two keys nor would I willingly think it even of Miss Wozenham lower down on the other side of the way sincerely hoping that it may not be, though doubtless at the same time money cannot come from nowhere and it is not reason to suppose that Bradshaws put it in for love be it blotty as it may. It is a hardship hurting to the feelings that Lodgers open their minds so wide to the idea that you are trying to get the better of them and shut their minds so close to the idea that they are trying to get the better of you, but as Major Jackman says to me ‘I know the ways of this circular world Mrs Lirriper, and that’s one of ’em all round it’ and many is the little ruffle in my mind that the Major has smoothed, for he is a clever man who has seen much. Dear dear, thirteen years have passed though it seems but yesterday since I was sitting with my glasses on at the open front parlour window one evening in August (the parlours being then vacant) reading yesterday’s paper my eyes for print being poor though still I am thankful to say a long sight at a distance, when I hear a gentleman come posting across the road and up the street in a dreadful rage talking to himself in a fury and d’ing and c’ing somebody. ‘By George!’ says he out loud and clutching his walking-stick, ‘I’ll go to Mrs Lirriper’s. Which is Mrs Lirriper’s?’ Then looking round and seeing me he flourishes his hat right off his head as if I had been the queen and he says, ‘Excuse the intrusion Madam, but pray Madam can you tell me at what number in this street there resides a well-known and much-respected lady by the name of Lirriper?’ A little flustered though I must say gratified I took off my glasses and courtesied and said ‘Sir, Mrs Lirriper is your humble servant.’ ‘Astonishing!’ says he. ‘A million pardons! Madam, may I ask you to have the kindness to direct one of your domestics to open the door to a gentleman in search of apartments, by the name of Jackman?’ I had never heard the name but a politer gentleman I never hope to see, for says he ‘Madam I am shocked at your opening the door yourself to no worthier a fellow than Jemmy Jackman. After you Madam. I never precede a lady.’ Then he comes into the parlours and he sniffs, and he says ‘Hah! These are parlours! Not musty cupboards’ he says ‘but parlours, and no smell of coal-sacks.’ Now my dear it having been remarked by some inimical to the whole neighbourhood that it always smells of coal-sacks which might prove a drawback to Lodgers if encouraged, I says to the Major gently though firmly that I think he is referring to Arundel or Surrey or Howard but not Norfolk. ‘Madam’ says he ‘I refer to Wozenham’s lower down over the way – Madam you can form no notion what Wozenham’s is – Madam it is a vast coal-sack, and Miss Wozenham has the principles and manners of a female heaver – Madam from the manner in which I have heard her mention you I know she has no appreciation of a lady, and from the manner in which she has conducted herself towards me I know she has no appreciation of a gentleman – Madam my name is Jackman – should you require any other reference than what I have already said, I name the Bank of England – perhaps you know it!’ Such was the beginning of the Major’s occupying the parlours and from that hour to this the same and a most obliging Lodger and punctual in all respects except one irregular which I need not particularly specify, but made up for by his being a protection and at all times ready to fill in the papers of the Assessed Taxes and Juries and that, and once collared a young man with the drawing-room clock under his coat, and once on the parapets with his own hands and blankets put out the kitchen chimney and afterwards attending the summons made a most eloquent speech against the Parish before the magistrates and saved the engine, and ever quite the gentleman though passionate. And certainly Miss Wozenham’s detaining the trunks and umbrella was not in a liberal spirit though it may have been according to her rights in law or an act I would myself have stooped to, the Major being so much the gentleman that though he is far from tall he seems almost so when he has his shirt-frill out and his frock-coat on and his hat with the curly brims, and in what service he was I cannot truly tell you my dear whether Militia or Foreign, for I never heard him even name himself as Major but always simple ‘Jemmy Jackman’ and once soon after he came when I felt it my duty to let him know that Miss Wozenham had put it about that he was no Major and I took the liberty of adding ‘which you are sir’ his words were ‘Madam at any rate I am not a Minor, and sufficient for the day is the evil thereof’ which cannot be denied to be the sacred truth, nor yet his military ways of having his boots with only the dirt brushed off taken to him in the front parlour every morning on a clean plate and varnishing them himself with a little sponge and a saucer and a whistle in a whisper so sure as ever his breakfast is ended, and so neat his ways that it never soils his linen which is scrupulous though more in quality than quantity, neither that nor his mustachios which to the best of my belief are done at the same time and which are as black and shining as his boots, his head of hair being a lovely white.

  It was the third year nearly up of the Major’s being in the parlours that early one morning in the month of February when Parliament was coming on and you may therefore suppose a number of impostors were about ready to take hold of anything they could get, a gentleman and a lady from the country came in to view the Second, and I well remember that I had been looking out of window and had watched them and the heavy sleet driving down the street together looking for bills. I did not quite take to the face of the gentleman though he was good-looking too but the lady was a very pretty young thing and delicate, and it seemed too rough for her to be out at all though she had only come from the Adelphi Hotel which would not have been much above a quarter of a mile if the weather had been less severe. Now it did so happen my dear that I had been forced to put five shillings weekly additional on the second in consequence of a loss from running away full dressed as if going out to a dinner-party, which was very artful and had made me rather suspicious taking it along with Parliament, so when the gentleman proposed three months certain and the money in advance and leave then reserved to renew on the same terms for six months more, I says I was not quite certain but that I might have engaged myself to another party but would step down-stairs and look into it if they would take a seat. They took a seat and I went down to the handle of the Major’s door that I had already began to consult finding it a great blessing, and I knew by his whistling in a whisper that he was varnishing his boots which was generally considered private, however he kindly calls out ‘If it’s you, Madam, come in,’ and I went in and told him.

  ‘Well, Madam,’ says the Major rubbing his nose – as I did fear at the moment with the black sponge but it was only his knuckle, he being always neat and dexterous with his fingers – ‘well, Madam, I suppose you would be glad of the money?’

  I was delicate of saying ‘Yes’ too out, for a little extra colour rose into the Major’s cheeks and there was irregularity which I will not particularly specify in a quarter which I will not name.

  ‘I am of opinion, Madam,’ says the Major ‘that when money is ready for you – when it is ready for you, Mrs Lirriper – you ought to take it. What is there against it, Madam, in this case up-stairs?’

  ‘I really cannot say there is anything against it, sir, still I thought I would consult you.’

  ‘You said a newly-married couple, I think, Madam?’ says the Major.

  I says ‘Ye-es. Evidently. And indeed the young lady mentioned to me in a casual way that she had not been married many months.’

  The Major rubbed his nose again and stirred the varnish round and round in its little saucer with his piece of sponge and took to his whistling in a whisper for a few moments. Then he says ‘You would call it a Good Let, Madam?’

  ‘O certainly a Good Let sir.’

  ‘Say they renew for the additional six months. Would it put you about very much Madam if – if the worst was to come to the worst?’ said the Major.

  ‘Well I hardly know,’ I says to the Major
. ‘It depends upon circumstances. Would you object Sir for instance?’

  ‘I?’ says the Major. ‘Object? Jemmy Jackman? Mrs Lirriper close with the proposal.’

  So I went up-stairs and accepted, and they came in next day which was Saturday and the Major was so good as to draw up a Memorandum of an agreement in a beautiful round hand and expressions that sounded to me equally legal and military, and Mr Edson signed it on the Monday morning and the Major called upon Mr Edson on the Tuesday and Mr Edson called upon the Major on the Wednesday and the Second and the parlours were as friendly as could be wished.

  The three months paid for had run out and we had got without any fresh overtures as to payment into May my dear, when there came an obligation upon Mr Edson to go a business expedition right across the Isle of Man, which fell quite unexpected upon that pretty little thing and is not a place that according to my views is particularly in the way to anywhere at any time but that may be a matter of opinion. So short a notice was it that he was to go next day, and dreadfully she cried poor pretty, and I am sure I cried too when I saw her on the cold pavement in the sharp east wind – it being a very backward spring that year – taking a last leave of him with her pretty bright hair blowing this way and that and her arms clinging round his neck and him saying ‘There there there. Now let me go Peggy.’ And by that time it was plain that what the Major had been so accommodating as to say he would not object to happening in the house, would happen in it, and I told her as much when he was gone while I comforted her with my arm up the staircase, for I says ‘You will soon have others to keep up for my pretty and you must think of that.’

  His letter never came when it ought to have come and what she went through morning after morning when the postman brought none for her the very postman himself compassionated when she ran down to the door, and yet we cannot wonder at its being calculated to blunt the feelings to have all the trouble of other people’s letters and none of the pleasure and doing it oftener in the mud and mizzle than not and at a rate of wages more resembling Little Britain than Great. But at last one morning when she was too poorly to come running down-stairs he says to me with a pleased look in his face that made me next to love the man in his uniform coat though he was dripping wet ‘I have taken you first in the street this morning Mrs Lirriper, for here’s the one for Mrs Edson.’ I went up to her bedroom with it as fast as ever I could go, and she sat up in bed when she saw it and kissed it and tore it open and then a blank stare came upon her. ‘It’s very short!’ she says lifting her large eyes to my face. ‘O Mrs Lirriper it’s very short!’ I says ‘My dear Mrs Edson no doubt that’s because your husband hadn’t time to write more just at that time.’ ‘No doubt, no doubt,’ says she, and puts her two hands on her face and turns round in her bed.

  I shut her softly in and I crept down-stairs and I tapped at the Major’s door, and when the Major having his thin slices of bacon in his own Dutch oven saw me he came out of his chair and put me down on the sofa. ‘Hush!’ says he, ‘I see something’s the matter. Don’t speak – take time.’ I says ‘O Major I’m afraid there’s cruel work up-stairs.’ ‘Yes yes’ says he ‘I had begun to be afraid of it – take time.’ And then in opposition to his own words he rages out frightfully, and says ‘I shall never forgive myself Madam, that I, Jemmy Jackman, didn’t see it all that morning – didn’t go straight upstairs when my boot-sponge was in my hand – didn’t force it down his throat – and choke him dead with it on the spot!’

  The Major and me agreed when we came to ourselves that just at present we could do no more than take on to suspect nothing and use our best endeavours to keep that poor young creature quiet, and what I ever should have done without the Major when it got about among the organ-men that quiet was our object is unknown, for he made lion and tiger war upon them to that degree that without seeing it I could not have believed it was in any gentleman to have such a power of bursting out with fire-irons walking-sticks water-jugs coals potatoes off his table the very hat off his head, and at the same time so furious in foreign languages that they would stand with their handles half-turned fixed like the Sleeping Ugly – for I cannot say Beauty.

  Ever to see the postman come near the house now gave me such a fear that it was a reprieve when he went by, but in about another ten days or a fortnight he says again, ‘Here’s one for Mrs Edson. – Is she pretty well?’ ‘She is pretty well postman, but not well enough to rise so early as she used’ which was so far gospel-truth.

  I carried the letter in to the Major at his breakfast and I says tottering ‘Major I have not the courage to take it up to her.’

  ‘It’s an ill-looking villain of a letter,’ says the Major.

  ‘I have not the courage Major’ I says again in a tremble ‘to take it up to her.’

  After seeming lost in consideration for some moments the Major says, raising his head as if something new and useful had occurred to his mind ‘Mrs Lirriper, I shall never forgive myself that I, Jemmy Jackman, didn’t go straight up-stairs that morning when my boot-sponge was in my hand – and force it down his throat – and choke him dead with it.’

  ‘Major’ I says a little hasty ‘you didn’t do it which is a blessing, for it would have done no good and I think your sponge was better employed on your own honourable boots.’

  So we got to be rational, and planned that I should tap at her bedroom door and lay the letter on the mat outside and wait on the upper landing for what might happen, and never was gunpowder cannon balls or shells or rockets more dreaded than that dreadful letter was by me as I took it to the second floor.

  A terrible loud scream sounded through the house the minute after she had opened it, and I found her on the floor lying as if her life was gone. My dear I never looked at the face of the letter which was lying open by her, for there was no occasion.

  Everything I needed to bring her round the Major brought up with his own hands, besides running out to the chemist’s for what was not in the house and likewise having the fiercest of all his many skirmishes with a musical instrument representing a ball-room I do not know in what particular country and company waltzing in and out at folding-doors with rolling eyes. When after a long time I saw her coming to, I slipped on the landing till I heard her cry, and then I went in and says cheerily ‘Mrs Edson you’re not well my dear and it’s not to be wondered at,’ as if I had not been in before. Whether she believed or disbelieved I cannot say and it would signify nothing if I could, but I stayed by her for hours and then she God ever blesses me! and says she will try to rest for her head is bad.

  ‘Major,’ I whispers, looking in at the parlours, ‘I beg and pray of you don’t go out.’

  The Major whispers, ‘Madam, trust me I will do no such a thing. How is she?’

  I says ‘Major the good Lord above us only knows what burns and rages in her poor mind. I left her sitting at her window. I am going to sit at mine.’

  It came on afternoon and it came on evening. Norfolk is a delightful street to lodge in – provided you don’t go lower down – but of a summer evening when the dust and waste paper lie in it and stray children play in it and a kind of a gritty calm and bake settles on it and a peal of church-bells is practising in the neighbourhood it is a trifle dull, and never have I seen it since at such a time and never shall I see it evermore at such a time without seeing the dull June evening when that forlorn young creature sat at her open corner window on the second and me at my open corner window (the other corner) on the third. Something merciful, something wiser and better far than my own self, had moved me while it was yet light to sit in my bonnet and shawl, and as the shadows fell and the tide rose I could sometimes – when I put out my head and looked at her window below – see that she leaned out a little looking down the street. It was just settling dark when I saw her in the street.

  So fearful of losing sight of her that it almost stops my breath while I tell it, I went down-stairs faster than I ever moved in all my life and only tapped with my hand at the Major’s d
oor in passing it and slipping out. She was gone already. I made the same speed down the street and when I came to the corner of Howard Street I saw that she had turned it and was there plain before me going towards the west. O with what a thankful heart I saw her going along!

  She was quite unacquainted with London and had very seldom been out for more than an airing in our own street where she knew two or three little children belonging to neighbours and had sometimes stood among them at the street looking at the water. She must be going at hazard I knew, still she kept the by-streets quite correctly as long as they would serve her, and then turned up into the Strand. But at every corner I could see her head turned one way, and that way was always the river way.