The Odd Women (Feminist Classic). George GissingЧитать онлайн книгу.
passing, I shall be able to point out to you the house which has been my home for about a year.’
As circumstances were, it would be hardly possible to accept this invitation without exciting curiosity in her sisters. The Sunday morning would be occupied, probably, in going to the new lodgings and making the acquaintance of her future companion there; in the afternoon, her sisters were to pay her a visit, as Alice had decided to start for Somerset on the Monday. She must write a refusal, but it was by no means her wish to discourage Widdowson altogether. The note which at length satisfied her ran thus:
‘DEAR MR. WIDDOWSON— I am very sorry that it will be impossible for me to see you next Sunday. All day I shall be occupied. My eldest sister is leaving London, and Sunday will be my last day with her, perhaps for a long time. Please do not think that I make light of your kindness. When I am settled in my new life, I hope to be able to let you know how it suits me. — Sincerely yours,
MONICA MADDEN.’
In a postscript she mentioned her new address. It was written in very small characters — perhaps an unpurposed indication of the misgiving with which she allowed herself to pen the words.
Two days went by, and again a letter from Widdowson was delivered,
‘DEAR MISS MADDEN— My chief purpose in writing again so soon is to apologize sincerely for my behaviour on Tuesday evening. It was quite unjustifiable. The best way of confessing my fault is to own that I had a foolish dislike of your walking in the streets unaccompanied at so late an hour. I believe that any man who had newly made your acquaintance, and had thought as much about you as I have, would have experienced the same feeling. The life which made it impossible for you to see friends at any other time of the day was so evidently unsuited to one of your refinement that I was made angry by the thought of it. Happily it is coming to an end, and I shall be greatly relieved when I know that you have left the house of business.
‘You remember that we are to be friends. I should be much less than your friend if I did not desire for you a position very different from that which necessity forced upon you. Thank you very much for the promise to tell me how you like the new employment and your new friends. Shall you not henceforth be at leisure on other days besides Sunday? As you will now be near Regent’s Park, perhaps I may hope to meet you there some evening before long. I would go any distance to see you and speak with you for only a few minutes.
‘Do forgive my impertinence, and believe me, dear Miss Madden. — Ever yours,
EDMUND WIDDOWSON.’
Now this undoubtedly might be considered a love-letter, and it was the first of its kind that Monica had ever received. No man had ever written to her that he was willing to go ‘any distance’ for the reward of looking on her face. She read the composition many times, and with many thoughts. It did not enchant her; presently she felt it to be dull and prosy — anything but the ideal of a love-letter, even at this early stage.
The remarks concerning Widdowson made in the bedroom by the girl who fancied her asleep had greatly disturbed her conception of him. He was old, and looked still older to a casual eye. He had a stiff dry way, and already had begun to show how precise and exacting he could be. A year or two ago the image of such a man would have repelled her. She did not think it possible to regard him with warm feelings; yet, if he asked her to marry him — and that seemed likely to happen very soon — almost certainly her answer would be yes. Provided, of course, that all he had told her about himself could be in some satisfactory way confirmed.
Her acquaintance with him was an extraordinary thing. With what amazement and rapture would any one of her shop companions listen to the advances of a man who had six hundred a year! Yet Monica did not doubt this truthfulness and the honesty of his intentions. His life-story sounded credible enough, and the very dryness of his manner inspired confidence. As things went in the marriage war, she might esteem herself a most fortunate young woman. It seemed that he had really fallen in love with her; he might prove a devoted husband. She felt no love in return; but between the prospect of a marriage of esteem and that of no marriage at all there was little room for hesitation. The chances were that she might never again receive an offer from a man whose social standing she could respect.
In the meantime there had come a civil little note from the girl whose rooms she was to share. ‘Miss Barfoot has spoken of you so favourably that I did not think it necessary to see you before consenting to what she suggested. Perhaps she has told you that I have my own furniture; it is very plain, but, I think, comfortable. For the two rooms, with attendance, I pay eight and sixpence a week; my landlady will ask eleven shillings when there are two of us, so that your share would be five-and-six. I hope you won’t think this is too much. I am a quiet and I think a very reasonable person.’ The signature was ‘Mildred H. Vesper.’
The day of release arrived. As it poured with rain all the morning, Monica the less regretted that she had been obliged to postpone her meeting with Widdowson. At breakfast-time she said good-bye to the three or four girls in whom she had any interest. Miss Eade was delighted to see her go. This rival finally out of the way, Mr. Bullivant might perchance turn his attention to the faithful admirer who remained.
She went by train to Great Portland Street, and thence by cab, with her two boxes, to Rutland Street, Hampstead Road — an uphill little street of small houses. When the cab stopped, the door of the house she sought at once opened, and on the threshold appeared a short, prim, plain-featured girl, who smiled a welcome.
‘You are Miss Vesper?’ Monica said, approaching her.
‘Yes — very pleased to see you, Miss Madden. As London cabmen have a narrow view of their duties, I’ll help you to get the boxes in.’
Monica liked the girl at once. Jehu condescending to hand down the luggage, they transferred it to the foot of the staircase, then, the fare having been paid, went up to the second floor, which was the top of the house. Miss Vesper’s two rooms were very humble, but homely. She looked at Monica to remark the impression produced by them.
‘Will it do?’
‘Oh, very nicely indeed. After my quarters in Walworth Road! But I feel ashamed to intrude upon you.’
‘I have been trying to find someone to share my rent,’ said the other, with a simple frankness that was very agreeable. ‘Miss Barfoot was full of your praises — and indeed I think we may suit each other.’
‘I shall try to be as little disturbance to you as possible.’
‘And I to you. The street is a very quiet one. Up above here is Cumberland Market; a hay and straw market. Quite pleasant odours — country odours — reach us on market day. I am country-bred; that’s why I speak of such a trifle.’
‘So am I,’ said Monica. ‘I come from Somerset.’
‘And I from Hampshire. Do you know, I have a strong suspicion that all the really nice girls in London are country girls.’
Monica had to look at the speaker to be sure that this was said in pleasantry. Miss Vesper was fond of making dry little jokes in the gravest tone; only a twinkle of her eyes and a movement of her tight little lips betrayed her.
‘Shall I ask the landlady to help me up with the luggage?’
‘You are rather pale, Miss Madden. Better let me see to that. I have to go down to remind Mrs. Hocking to put salt into the saucepan with the potatoes. She cooks for me only on Sunday, and if I didn’t remind her every week she would boil the potatoes without salt. Such a state of mind is curious, but one ends by accepting it as a fact in nature.’
They joined in merry laughter. When Miss Vesper gave way to open mirth, she enjoyed it so thoroughly that it was a delight to look at her.
By the time dinner was over they were on excellent terms, and had exchanged a great deal of personal information. Mildred Vesper seemed to be one of the most contented of young women. She had sisters and brothers, whom she loved, all scattered about England in pursuit of a livelihood; it was rare for any two of them to see each other, but she spoke of this as quite in the order of things. For Miss Barfoot