Beyond an occasional reference to their work, the women
did not speak again, until at three o'clock Mrs. Ede announced that dinner
was ready. There was not much to eat, however, and Kate had little
appetite, and she was glad when the meal was finished. She had then to help
Mrs. Ede in getting the rooms ready, and when this was done it was time for
tea. But not even this meal did they get in comfort, for Mr. Lennox had
ordered a beefsteak for supper; somebody would have to go to fetch it. Mrs.
Ede said she would, and Kate went into the shop to attend to the few
customers who might call in the course of the evening. The last remarkable
event in this day of events was the departure of Miss Hender, who came
downstairs saying she had only just allowed herself time to hurry to the
theatre; she feared she wouldn't be there before the curtain went up, and
she was sorry Kate wasn't coming, but she would tell her to-morrow all
about Mr. Lennox, and how the piece went. As Kate bade her assistant
good-night a few customers dropped in, all of whom gave a great deal of
trouble. She had to pull down a number of packages to find what was wanted.
Then her next-door neighbour, the stationer's wife, called to ask after Mr.
Ede and to buy a reel of cotton; and so, in evening chat, the time passed,
until the fruiterer's boy came to ask if he should put up the shutters.
Kate nodded, and remarked to her friend, who had risen to go, what a nice,
kind man Mr. Jones was.
'Yes, indeed, they are very kind people, but their prices are very high. Do
you deal with them?'
Kate replied that she did; and, as the fruiterer's boy put up the shutters
with a series of bangs, she tried to persuade her neighbour to buy a
certain gown she had been long talking of.
'Trimming and everything, it won't cost you more than thirty shillings;
you'll want something fresh now that summer's coming on.'
'So I shall. I'll speak to my man about it to-night. I think he'll let me
have it.'
'He won't refuse you if you press him.'
'Well, we shall see,' and bidding Kate good-night she passed into the
street.
The evening was fine, and Kate stood for a long while watching the people
surging out of the potteries towards Piccadilly. 'Coming out,' she said,
'for their evening walk,' and she was glad that the evening was fine.
'After a long day in the potteries they want some fresh air,' and then,
raising her eyes from the streets, she watched the sunset die out of the
west; purple and yellow streaks still outlined the grey expanse of the
hills, making the brick town look like a little toy. An ugly little brick
town—brick of all colours: the pale reddish-brown of decaying brick-yards,
the fierce red brick of the newly built warehouses that turns to purple,
and above the walls scarlet tiled roofs pointing sharp angles to a few
stars.
Kate stood watching the fading of the hills into night clouds, interested
in her thoughts vaguely—her thoughts adrift and faded somewhat as the
spectacle before her. She wondered if her lodger would be satisfied with
her mother's cooking; she hoped so. He was a well-spoken man, but she could
not hope to change mother. As the image of the lodger floated out of her
mind Hender's came into it, and she hoped the girl would not get into
trouble. So many poor girls are in trouble; how many in the crowd passing
before her door? The difficulty she was in with Mrs. Barnes's dress
suggested itself, and with a shiver and a sigh she shut the street-door and
went upstairs. The day had passed; it was gone like a hundred days before
it—wearily, perhaps, yet leaving in the mind an impression of something
done, of duties honestly accomplished.
III
'Oh, ma'am!' Hender broke in, 'you can't think how amusing it was last
night! I never enjoyed myself so much in my life. The place was crammed!
Such a house! And Miss Leslie got three encores and a call after each act.'
'And what was Mr. Lennox like?'
'Oh, he only played a small part—one of the policemen. He don't play
Pom-poucet; I was wrong. It's too heavy a part, and he's too busy looking
after the piece. But Joe Mortimer was splendid; I nearly died of laughing
when he fell down and lost his wig in the middle of the stage. And Frank
Bret looked such a swell, and he got an encore for the song, "Oh, Certainly
I Love Clairette." And he and Miss Leslie got another for the duet.
To-morrow they play the Cloches.'
'But now you've seen so much of the theatre I hope you'll be able to do a
little overtime with me.
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