CHAPTER XII

I assured Katherine, more than once, that whatever the need for secrecy so far as Lieutenant Langford was concerned, no necessity of the kind existed in her case. She pleaded to be allowed to have her own way, reminded me that Harry particularly desired that the fewest folk possible should know, and eventually settled the question by informing me, on the best authority, that her bank did not favour the assistance of married girls.

"I make no promise," I said, "but I shall do what I think best."

"That will be quite good enough, aunt dear," she agreed. "And may Providence reward you suitably by giving you a husband of your own."

"One might look upon that more as a punishment."

"Foolish scoffer!" she remarked.

Colonel Edgington came to Gloucester Place, and Mr. Hillier was glad to see him, but the evening could not be reckoned a success, because the caller harped upon an idea of obtaining for Mr. Hillier a soft job of some kind in Whitehall, and Mr. Hillier declared himself well contented with his present occupation. He gave details of this with great relish to the visitor, and Colonel Edgington commented with disparaging comments, such as,

"Bah!"

"Pooh!"

"Gah!"

"Brrrh!"

It seemed likely that friendship would diminish if meetings were to be conducted on these lines, and in seeing the Colonel out, at the end, I urged him not to call again for a week. Within that period I found a three-quarter size billiard table in good condition, late the property of a local club now, owing to the absence of youthful members, in need of money. Katherine and I cleared out the half room, half conservatory at the back of the rooms occupied by the Wintertons, and used by the old couple as a lumber room for odd articles accumulated during a lifetime, and of no use, as we managed to persuade them, of no use to anybody. Apart, the Captain assured me he had been for years anxious to destroy the rubbish, but feared this might pain his wife, and she declared to me in private that her impression had always been that he valued the collection dearly. We set up thick curtains over the glass, arranged for the electric light to be fixed over the table, placed a high long seat against the wall for the use of spectators, and when Colonel Edgington paid his next visit, he and Mr. Hillier were taken down to the newly furnished room, and the old sea captain, with great importance, took up the position of marker. The game not only checked conversation on a debatable subject, but brought the two chums into something like their former terms of intimacy; each discovered an excuse for the other when any failure occurred, and said,

"If you had been playing on a full-size table, that stroke of yours would have come off!"

Captain Winterton was well intentioned at the scoring board, but seldom remembered who was spot and who was plain, and his wife, with many apologies for intruding upon the company of gentlemen, entered to assist him in the perplexing task, with the result that one of the two opponents, at the close of the game, was able to declare, upstairs, that he would not have been the first to reach the two hundred if the score had been correctly kept. The time came when Edward offered to give lessons to the old captain, and this was self-denying on the part of the lad, for no plan, however ingeniously devised--giving eighty-five in a hundred, or three strokes to one--ever assisted Captain Winterton to get near to a close finish. We encouraged him with judicious flattery, and although he usually took about two minutes to decide how to play a ball, he invariably declared that his one fault was recklessness; this defect amended, he felt sure he would be numbered amongst the experts. Meanwhile, he quickly adopted one method of the billiard room by giving copious and truculent advice to Edward, using for this a booming fog-horn voice, altogether different from his normal tones.

"Play it off the cushion, my lad!" And "For Heaven's sake, don't pot the red; the white's in baulk!" And "Chalk your cue, sir; damme, chalk your cue!" The game over, and the result announced, he went back to the usual manner of courtesy. One advantage gained from the presence of the old gentleman was that as he still declined to argue about the war, or to recognise that it existed, all of us, including Colonel Edgington, decided to imitate this peculiarity.

Which did not mean that our minds were permitted, for long, to escape the subject. From a customer, I heard that some exchanged men had arrived at the Third London General Hospital at Wandsworth, and I went over there on a Wednesday afternoon that Millwood was able to give to the shop, to ascertain whether any of them had been in the camp from which Master John's letters and post cards, with now and again an alteration in number, or company, or barracks, were now dated. There was some trouble at the gates because I had no permit, but I mentioned I had come from Greenwich, and the sentry, remarking with pride that his birthplace was Maze Hill, found a solution of the difficulty. "I'll turn my back," he said, "and pretend to have a sudden fit of a cough: you take advantage of my infirmity, and slip through."

Maimed soldiers in blue uniforms were about on the sloping lawn that went to the railway; some had groups of friends around them, and a few were alone. I went past the main building, and entered a corridor that took me past a number of wards, well ventilated, cheerful and with the faint scent of anæsthetics, and to nurses I put an inquiry; for the most part they could give no information, but one or two suggested C5. Outside C5 I found two men who had no visitors, and they replied to my question alertly and re-assuringly. They had said good-bye to Corporal Hillier but five days previously. He had gone up for examination with the others selected, but was sent back. They felt certain he would come along in the next group. They said Corporal Hillier was bright and well; his knowledge of French and German proved helpful. Being amongst the wounded, he was not called upon to perform arduous tasks. Both said the treatment was as good as one could hope for, excepting in regard to food. "The food, miss, is absolutely--well, there's no word for it! At any rate, not one that could be repeated to you." They agreed that no British prisoner could keep alive unless he received parcels from home, and assured me Corporal Hillier was more fortunate than many in this respect. "He gets two a week, he does, regular, besides them from his own family. Two a week, sent by a particular donah of his called Weston. We've noticed her name on the labels." I was about to make further inquiries, but a child's voice at the doorway of C5 called "Daddie--Daddie. Don't you know me?" and one hobbled off to greet the little girl; the other man was summoned by a Yorkshireman who, engaged in writing a letter, needed some counsel in regard to spelling. On my return I noticed in the wards of the corridor, one or two men in their beds who looked dejected and tired of everything; a Sister was explaining to some callers that these suffered from gas poison. For the rest, they were so cheery, and good-spirited that you might have thought--to look at their features, and to disregard their injured bodies--that they had been taking a share in nothing more serious than a rather exhilarating football match.

The times were all the more interesting because the age of miracles re-appeared. In a local hospital which I visited, with Katherine, on Sunday afternoons, there was a young soldier afflicted with loss of speech, following upon shell-shock. He proved a ready student, and we were gratified by the way in which, under our tuition, he picked up the deaf and dumb alphabet. We might have saved ourselves the trouble. One afternoon we called, and went directly to his corner, prepared to give advanced lessons.

"Begun to think," he remarked, in a natural voice, "that you two were going to give me the slip. What's delayed you?"

It appeared that on the Saturday, a group of amateurs had come to give a harlequinade entertainment. One dressed as a clown, in going through the ward, advanced playfully towards our soldier, holding out the red painted poker that was to take a share in the acting. The youth started back affrighted, and speaking for the first time for months, told the clown to be careful, adding that he had no desire to find himself burnt. From that moment, onwards, he made up by vivacious conversation for the period of enforced silence.

Hospitals could scarcely be evaded by anybody, and you never knew whom you might meet there. For instance, a customer of mine, after declaring that she would add nothing to her collection of old furniture on the grounds that money should be saved and lent to the Government, discovered in a friend's house a Queen Anne tallboy chest, and a craving for possession took hold of her. The friend resolutely declined to sell; my customer came to me with an urgent appeal. I saw an advertisement of one from a London square, and although I begrudged the trouble of the journey, and the giving up of time, I went to town; spent a brisk three-quarters of an hour in haggling with a gentleman who knew more of the subject than I had ever attempted to learn; made a feint of coming away and was re-called by him, to listen to a frank statement of eagerness to sell. On this, I fixed upon an Adam elbow chair, affecting to have lost all interest in the tallboy chest. I eventually obtained the chest at less than the figure I had first offered. On the best of terms now, he made me promise that before returning to Greenwich I would inspect the glass windows, not far off, which had been broken in an air raid of a few nights before.

On the way I noticed that a hospital where wounded soldiers were sunning themselves outside, announced a Pound Day and a grand entertainment for the current date. Remembering the profit I was to make out of the chest bargain, I went up the steps, put my sovereign on the matron's table. I think it was the rare sight of gold that caused the official lady to exhibit particular gratitude--there were several notes there signed by Mr. Bradbury--and anyway I found myself taken by her to the out-patient's department where a show was being given by a first class set of good-natured theatrical folk. (There seemed to be no limits to the kindness of their profession).

The matron caught sight of me as I was leaving, and dropped everything in order to intercept. I had not signed her Visitor's Book. I must undoubtedly sign her Visitor's Book. Her Visitor's Book would be valueless without my signature. On the same page, and but a couple of entries above, appeared the name of Herbert Millwood. It seemed my nephew was upstairs visiting one of the men, and feeling myself well repaid now for a burst of generosity, I waited outside for him.

"No, aunt," he said, when I made a suggestion concerning the raid as we walked in the crowded main road. "Smashed glass belonging to other people makes no call to me. Broken hopes belonging to myself are much more important."

It appeared he was going back to duty that night, and had to catch a train from Liverpool Street; I soon discovered that he had spent the day in making one more effort to discover Muriel Hillier.

"I've no patience with her," I declared. "There can't be a good reason for keeping her relatives in suspense. If I came across her now, I should have a word or two to say to her."

"And I too," remarked Herbert. "Likely enough, though our words would not be identical."

We turned into Red Lion Square to escape the crush.

"I know how difficult it is to give advice, my boy," I said, "in matters of the kind, and I'm aware that it's next door to impossible to get it accepted. But I wish you'd recognise that the situation has very much changed since the time when you fell in love with her. You're a lieutenant now. You're an officer in His Majesty's army. You've made a good record. Whilst she--"

"I don't want to hear anything for her, aunt, or against her. I only want to hear something of her."

"She may have found somebody--"

"'May,'" he echoed, impatiently, "'May' conveys nothing to me. The truth is what I'm going to find out."

"How?"

"By all the means in my power. By all the means in other folk's power that I can command with influence or money." He turned appealingly to me. "You are clever at most things, aunt."

"If I lose a needle, my boy, I don't go searching for it in a bundle of hay. I get a new one. And listen to me. You know how much I care for you." For answer, he pressed my arm affectionately. "If I've been able to do something for you since your dear mother went, why it has been done, not only because it was my duty, but because I reckoned it a pleasure. And to be quite plain and candid, I've no desire to see you, when the war is over, going back to your ordinary career, hampered, and crippled, and bothered by a selfish wife who, all the years I've known her--"

"This," he interrupted, "is an admission that you haven't put your head into the work. Be a good soul now, aunt, and do me a great favour. I promise I'll never ask for another, so long as I live."

"That's a promise I hope you'll break."

"Find her!" he persisted. "Let me know she's safe and well, and you'll place me so much in your debt that, whatever I do, I shall never be able to repay you. Give me a kiss to seal the bargain."

There was no refusing when he put the case in this way. I guaranteed that I would increase my efforts, assured him I would strain every nerve to find her. We walked through the narrow passage to Red Lion Street, and in Holborn, before taking a motor omnibus, he declared, cheerfully, that he knew I would be sending him news ere the month was out.

Young Langford received a hint that his regiment was to be ordered abroad at an early date, and news of the engagement had to be announced at Gloucester Place; this done, I took Katherine off to the registrar's office, and made the necessary inquiries. It appeared that the official there was used at the time to hastened ceremonies; he seemed to expect that I, too, had an intention of getting married without delay. We decided it was to be done by licence, and Katherine was able to state that she had lived in the district for fifteen days; she felt justified in declaring that there existed no legal impediment. It was fortunate that we acted promptly. At home we discovered a telegram of reckless extent from young Langford announcing that he was coming to town on the morrow, and leaving England on the day which followed.

"I had intended," said Mrs. Hillier, smiling, "to read my little girl a lecture, but there's no time for that now."

"It will be all hurry-scurry," I mentioned.

Hurry-scurry it was, but Mrs. Hillier and I agreed that the day was not to be exempt of formality, and we all resolved that the dear girl should not go without wedding presents. So there was shopping to be done, food to be ordered, and Captain Winterton was directed to be ready to stand by in case Mr. Hillier proved unable to obtain leave from his work at the Arsenal. I had given assistance to a next door neighbour of mine in London Street at a period when he was experiencing domestic anxiety, and, after the baby came, and all was well at home, he mentioned to me that if I wanted anyone, at any time, to look after my shop for a few hours, he would be offended unless the choice fell upon him. Katherine wrote to the bank to say a slight attack of neuralgia made it advisable that she should remain indoors for twenty-four hours; she added a dutiful apology. Edward declared that the question of his leave of absence was an easy matter: if necessary, he proposed to seek audience of Sir Charles Barrett himself and explain the reason. He found the idea received with screams of protest.

"Thoughtless infant!" cried Katherine.

"Foolish lad," I ejaculated.

Edward, reminded of the demands of secrecy, admitted he had come near to putting his foot deep into disaster, and took some credit for having enabled us to give a warning.

It is certain that no one took such a keen relish of anticipation in the ceremony as Captain Winterton. His habit was to walk the pavement of Gloucester Place on fine mornings as though he were pacing a deck; the residents knew that when he crossed and made the tour of The Circus, exercise was nearing its finish. Generally for this promenade he was apparelled in a blue serge reefer suit and a peaked cap: on the great day, the old sea captain wore a silk hat with a crescent-shaped brim that, despite good condition, marked its age; he had lavender trousers, yellow waistcoat, a frock coat of the style of the eighties, a malacca cane. Always courteous in acknowledging salutations, he now stopped to chat with tradesmen and neighbours, feeling perhaps that an explanation of his splendour was due to them. We had to thank the Captain for the fact that a small crowd of ladies began to assemble near the house, very hardly tried in the endeavour to pretend that each was there by accident; from the balcony I could hear those who had come in pairs bewailing the circumstance that the wedding was not to take place at a church.

"Seems such a skimpy way of getting married," they declared.

Young Langford arrived in good time, and shewed exuberant spirits when he found that the arrangements were complete and satisfactory. "Ought to have known I could rely upon you, Miss Weston. And I've been in a most frightful agony of mind in the train; you've no idea. Eleven o'clock? Right-o. This is absolutely topping!" Mr. Hillier did not return from the Arsenal, and he had told us to avoid waiting for him. The four of us went down the stairs, found Captain Winterton in the hall.

"I know, my love," said his wife to Katherine, coming out of her room, "that it doesn't go with your costume, but, just to please me, wear this piece of lace. It brought me happiness, and I've got the notion into my foolish old head that it may bring good luck to you. It's valuable," she added, nodding her head, "in more senses than one."

"I'll take every care of it," promised Katherine, "and you shall have it back in less than an hour."

"You're to keep it all your life, dearie. And I've some other bits for you, later on, to go with it."

It was but a short walk from Gloucester Place to Trafalgar Road, but we gained enough attention to satisfy any craving in that respect. The sight of old Captain Winterton, arm-in-arm with Miss Katherine in itself attracted notice; I wanted the party to stroll along informally, but he begged me to allow him to superintend this detail, and his joy in thus leading the procession was something it would have been a pity to hurt. Arrived, he marshalled us two deep, and went into the office to make inquiries. Returning, he appeared to have bethought himself of the fact that this was to be a quiet wedding, for he beckoned in a mysterious way, spoke in a whisper assuring us all was in order. Within, his deportment was that of a devout person in church; the discreet manner in which he gave half-sovereigns to everyone about the place willing to accept tips, suggested an anxiety to make the ceremony as legal and binding as possible. The two young people made a good-looking couple as they stood at the table, and they were extraordinarily composed; for myself, I can restrain tears, with no difficulty, at a funeral, but at a wedding--well, the one incident comes, as it were, at the end of the story, and there is nothing more to be found out concerning it: in the second, you cannot help speculating, and wondering, and sometimes fearing in regard to the coming chapters.

The registrar--I knew him by sight as well as anything, and had always guessed, incorrectly, he had to do with a picture palace--the registrar shook hands, gave over the certificate, and told the bridegroom (first inquiring anxiously whether he had seen this week's _Punch_) an anecdote concerning a drill-sergeant. I think old Captain Winterton was rather pained at this secular demeanour, for he escorted us out, sorted us into couples, and gave orders. "The wife," he whispered to me, "will be desirous of knowing that everything has gone off well." In Gloucester Place, some of our neighbours did an act that I shall always remember to their credit; from the balconies they threw down flowers as the young soldier and his bride came near. I recollect that Katherine picked all of them up, and smiled at the givers, and blew a kiss to an infant, who, held by his nurse, was clapping his chubby hands.

The meal was, for Edward's sake, taken early; the lad seemed concerned at the possibility of disastrous happenings at the head offices during his absence, and assured his new brother-in-law that railway life exacted, in these days, and under Government control, a strain that military men with their comparatively simple duties could scarcely estimate. Langford appeared to be in no humour to dispute or argue with anybody.

"People say I look worried," remarked Edward. "What do you think?"

Langford had not observed this, but if it existed, felt sure there was every reason.

"You wouldn't imagine I was not much more than fifteen, would you?"

Langford had, it appeared, estimated the other's age as higher than this; Edward showed gratification.

"By-the-bye, there was something I meant to ask when I saw you--I have such a lot to think about that--I know what it was. Your unmarried aunt whom we met at Aldeburgh. Keeping well, I hope?"

Langford was able to give re-assuring information.

Mrs. Winterton came up to the meal, bringing her present of more lace, and the rest of us exhibited our purchases. The gifts were all of a simple nature, but the young couple showed rapture over each article; Katherine reproached me with forgetting that the baby grand in the corner had always been looked upon as a wedding gift, in advance. Everything would have proceeded smoothly but that Edward, coming out of a fit of abstraction remarked suddenly:

"Wish Muriel had been here!"

Captain Winterton broke the silence which followed, by adjusting the plates and glasses before him, pulling at collar, clearing voice, running fingers through his white head of hair. Standing up, he bowed to Mrs. Hillier. He rose, he said, on this happy occasion--this festive, domestic and matrimonial occasion, he might say--to propose a toast, one which, he felt sure, we should all join heart and hand in drinking. It was a happy toast, and this was a happy occasion. He loved a wedding, and during his somewhat lengthened progress through life--and he had had his fair share of bunions: yes, we might laugh, but he was speaking the truth--as he said, he loved a wedding; he had been to many, and hoped to go to many more. Captain Winterton spoke for five minutes, and closed with these lines,

"_The toast, the toast, the toast's the thing To make hands tingle, and glasses ring_."

The old chap seemed greatly relieved to get the speech over: it occurred to me the style of it was somewhat away from his usual manner. Lieutenant Langford said, "Thanks, ever so much!" and we were chatting freely when the bell rang at the front door. I ran down. Colonel Edgington. He had brought a square parcel for Katherine, and was about to leave it, with his compliments, when I told him the wedding had just taken place. He bustled up the stairs, upbraided Mrs. Hillier for not informing him of the date, kissed the bride, took a chair, and declining other food, ate an orange with considerable fierceness. Katherine filled his glass, and he stood up, and frowned at us.

"I rise," he said, in a loud, determined voice, "on this happy, and I might say, festive, domestic and matrimonial occasion, to propose a toast which, I feel sure, you will all join heart and hand in drinking. It is a happy toast, and this is a happy occasion. I love a wedding, and during my somewhat lengthened progress through life, and I have had my fair share of bunions--oh yes, you may laugh, but I am speaking the truth--" The Colonel finished with,

"_The toast, the toast, the toast's the thing To make hands tingle, and glasses ring_."

The solution of the duplicated address came, days later, when we had discussed fully the question of coincidences. A middle-aged clerk in Edward's office, invited to a wedding breakfast, had been cautioned that he would be expected to propose the health of the bride and bridegroom. Edward was called upon to listen to his colleague's recital of the same piece of eloquence from a shilling book called, "Speeches for Every Occasion."