CHAPTER XLI.
THE LITTLE MUMMY IN LONDON.
Two days later a little woman might have been seen paying a cabman atthe door of No. 12, Prince's Mansions. She argued with him over thefare, but finally yielded to his terms, and then she tripped upstairs,throwing back her long widow's veil, which she always insisted onwearing. She reached the door which had been indicated to her as the oneleading to Florence's room. She tapped, but there was no answer. Shetried to turn the handle: the door was locked. Just as she was soengaged, a girl with a bright, keen face and resolute manner opened thenext door and popped out her head.
"Pardon me," said Mrs. Aylmer the less, for of course it was she, "butcan you tell me if my daughter Florence is likely to be in soon?"
"Your daughter Florence?" repeated the girl. "Are you Mrs.Aylmer--Florence's mother?"
"That is my proud position, my dear. I am the mother of that extremelygifted girl."
"She is out, but I daresay she will be in soon," said Edith Franks."Will you come into my room and wait for her?"
"With pleasure. How very kind of you!" said Mrs. Aylmer. She trippedinto the room, accepted the seat which Edith pointed out to her nearthe fire, and untied her bonnet strings.
"Dear, dear!" she said, as she looked around her. "Very comfortableindeed. And is _this_ what indicates the extreme poverty of those ladygirls who toil?"
"That is a remarkable sentence," said Edith. "Do you mind saying itagain?"
Mrs. Aylmer looked at her and smiled.
"I won't say it again," she said, "for it does not fit the circumstance.You do not toil."
"But indeed I do; I work extremely hard--often eight or nine hours aday."
"Good gracious! How crushing! But you don't look bad."
"I have no intention of being bad, for I enjoy my work. I am studying tobe a lady doctor."
"Oh, don't," said Mrs. Aylmer. She immediately drew down her veil andseated herself in such a position that the light should not fall on herface.
"I have heard of those awful medical women," she said, after a pause,"and I assure you the mere idea of them makes me ill. I hope they willnever become the fashion. You expect medical knowledge in a man, but notin a woman. My dear, pray don't stare at me; you may discover that Ihave some secret disease which I do not know of myself. I do not wish itfound out even if it exists. Please keep your eyes off me."
"I am not going to diagnose your case, if that is what you mean,"replied Edith, with a smile. "I am by no means qualified: I have to passmy exams in America."
"Thank you." Mrs. Aylmer sighed again. "It is a relief to know that atpresent you understand but little of the subject. I hope some good manmay marry you and prevent your becoming that monster--a woman doctor.But now to change the subject. I am extremely anxious for my daughter toreturn. I have bad news for her. Can you tell me how she is?"
"Well, I think," replied Edith.
"You know her."
"Oh, yes, rather intimately. Have you not heard our news?"
"What news?"
"She is engaged to my brother."
"What?" cried Mrs. Aylmer. She sprang to her feet; she forgot in herexcitement all fear of the embryo medical woman. She dropped her cloakand rushed forward to where Edith was standing and seized both herhands.
"My girl engaged to your brother! And pray who is your brother?"
"A very rising journalist, a remarkably clever man. It is, let me tellyou, Mrs. Aylmer, an excellent match for your daughter."
"Oh, that remains to be seen. I don't at all know that I countenance theengagement."
"I am afraid you cannot help it now. Florence is of age. I wonder shedid not write to you."
"I may not have received her letter. The fact is I have been away fromhome for the last day or two. But I wish she would return, as I havecome on most urgent business. Pray, miss--I do not even know your name."
"Franks," replied Edith: "Edith Franks."
"Pray, Miss Franks, do not spread the story of my daughter's engagementto your brother just for a day or two. Circumstances may alter matters,and until a girl has been really _led_ to the altar I never considerthis sort of thing final. Ah! whose step is that on the stairs? Ibelieve it is my Flo's."
Mrs. Aylmer tripped to the door, flung it open, and stood in anexpectant attitude.
The next moment Florence, accompanied by Tom Franks, appeared. Mrs.Aylmer looked at him, and in a flash said, under her breath: "The futureson-in-law." Then she went up to Florence and kissed her.
"Oh, mother," said Florence, looking by no means elated at thisunexpected appearance of the little Mummy on the scene, "what hasbrought you to town?"
"Most important business, dear. I must see you immediately in your room.I assure you nothing would induce me to spend the money I did were itnot absolutely necessary that I should see you at once. This gentleman,you must tell him to go, Florence; I have not a single moment to wasteover him now."
"Let me introduce Mr. Franks to you, mother. Tom, this is my mother. Youknow, mother, that I am engaged to Mr. Franks."
"I know nothing of the kind," replied Mrs. Aylmer angrily.
Florence smiled.
"But I wrote to you, mother; I told you everything."
"Perhaps so, dear, but I didn't receive the letter. I cannot acknowledgethe engagement just now. I am very much agitated. Mr. Franks, you will,I hope, excuse me. Of course I know the feelings of all young men undersuch circumstances, and I wish to do nothing rude or in any wayimpolite, but just now I _must_ see my daughter alone."
"You had better go, Tom," said Florence. She took the key of her roomout of her pocket, opened the door, and ushered her mother in.
"Now, mother," she said. "Oh, dear, the fire is out." She walked to thehearth, stooped down, and began to light the fire afresh. Mrs. Aylmersat near the window.
"Now, mother," said Florence, just looking round her, "what have youcome about?"
"I thought you would give me a welcome," said Mrs. Aylmer the less; "youused to be an affectionate girl."
"Oh, used!" said Florence. "But people change as they grow older.Sometimes I think I have not any heart."
"But you have engaged yourself to that man. I presume you love him."
"No, I don't love him at all."
"Flo, it is impious to hear your talk; it is just on a par with thoseawfully clever papers of yours--those stories and those articles. Youhave made a terrible sensation at Dawlish. You are becoming notorious,my dear. It is awful for a little widow like me to have a notoriousdaughter. You must stop it, Flo; you really must!"
"Come, mother, I will get you a cup of tea. What does it matter what theDawlish people say? You will spend the night, of course?"
"You and I, my dear, will spend some of the night in the train."
"Now, mother, what does this mean?"
"Listen, Flo. Yes, you may get me a cup of tea and a new-laid egg, ifyou have such a thing."
"But I have not."
"Then a rasher of bacon done to a turn and a little bit of toast. I cantoast the bread myself. You are not at all badly off in this nice room,but----"
"Go on, mother, go on; do explain why you have come."
"It is your aunt, dear; she is very ill indeed. She is not expected torecover."
"What, Aunt Susan?"
"Yes, she has had a serious illness and has taken a turn for the worse.It is double pneumonia, whatever that means. Anyhow, it is frightfullyfatal, and the doctors have no hope. I went to see her."
"When you heard she was ill, mother?"
"No, I didn't hear she was ill. I felt so desperate about you and theextraordinary sentiments you were casting wholesale upon the world thatI could stand it no longer, and when you sent me that last cheque Ithought I would make a final appeal to Susan. So I put on my very bestblack silk----"
Florence now with a quick sigh resumed her duties as tea-maker. Mrs.Aylmer was fairly launched on her narrative.
"I put on my very best black silk--the one that nice
, charming, _clever_Miss Keys sent to me--and I told Sukey that I should be away for acouple of days and that she was to expect me when she heard from me, andshe was _not_ to forward letters. I didn't expect any from you, and yourletters lately have been the reverse of comforting, and I started offand got to Aylmer's Court yesterday evening. I took a cab and drovestraight there, and when the man opened the door I said: 'I am Mrs.Aylmer; I have come to see my sister-in-law,' and of course there wasnothing for it but to let me in, although the flunkey said: 'I don'tthink she is quite as bad as that, ma'am,' and I looked at him and said:'What do you mean?' and I had scarcely uttered the words before MissKeys, so elegantly dressed and looking such a perfect lady, trippeddownstairs and said, in a kind tone: 'So you have come! I am glad youhave come.' She did, Florence; those were her very words. She said: 'Iam glad you have come.' It was so refreshing to hear her, and she tookme into one of the spacious reception-rooms--oh! my dear child, a roomwhich ought to be yours by-and-by--and she made me sit down, and thenshe told me. There have been dreadful things happening, my dearFlorence, and that wicked young man whom I took such a fancy to hasturned out to be a wolf in sheep's clothing. He broke my poor, dear,_warm-hearted_ sister-in-law's heart."
"Now, mother, why do you talk rubbish?" said Florence. "You know AuntSusan is not warm-hearted."
"She has not been understood," said Mrs. Aylmer, beginning to sob. Shetook a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped away her tears. "Thecircumstances of her life have proved how warm her heart is," shecontinued. "She adopted that young man and he played her false."
"He did not," said Florence.
"He did, Flo; he did. She wanted him to marry--to make a most suitablematch--and he refused her. Bertha told me all about it. He was in lovewith some stupid, poor, plain girl, goodness knows where. Bertha saidthere was no doubt of it, and he went away and broke with my poorsister, although she loved him so much and was better than twentymothers to him. She had just offered him a thousand a year aspocket-money. You will scarcely believe it, Flo, but the ungratefulwretch gave it all up for the sake of that girl. I never heard of such aman, and to think that I should have angled--yes, I did, dear--that youshould know him!"
"Here is your tea, mother. Can you not stop talking for a little? Youwill wear yourself out."
"What a queer, stern, cold voice you have, Florence! You are not half asinterested as you used to be."
"Do drink your tea, mother."
Mrs. Aylmer was not proof against the fragrant cup. She broke a piece oftoast and put it into her mouth, she sipped her tea, but nothing couldstop her narrative.
"Soon after he left, that wicked young man," she resumed, "poor Susanfell ill. She got worse and worse, and what apparently was only a slightattack soon assumed serious dimensions, and there is little hope of herlife, and Bertha tells me that she has altered her will or is about toalter it. I cannot quite make out whether it is done or whether it isabout to be done; but anyhow, Flo, you and I go back to Aylmer's Courtto-night. By hook or by crook we will show ourselves, my love, and Iwill take the responsibility of leading you into your aunt's room, andyou shall go on your knees and beg her forgiveness. That is what I havecome about, Florence. It is not too late. Poor Bertha, I can see, isquite on our side. It is not too late, my love; we will catch the verynext train."
"You don't know what you are saying, mother. It is absolutely impossiblefor me to go."
"My dearest Flo, why?"
"Let me tell you something. You blame Mr. Trevor."
"I always blame ungrateful people," said Mrs. Aylmer, putting on a mostvirtuous air.
"And yet," said Florence--"yes, I will speak. Do you know who theworthless girl was for whom he gave up great wealth and a highposition?"
"How can I tell? I don't want to hear her name."
"_I_ was that girl, mother."
"What do you mean?"
"And Bertha knew it," continued Florence; "she knew it well. Oh, I darenot say much against Bertha, but I won't have Mr. Trevor abused. Hefound out, mother, that, worthless as I am, he loved me. Oh, mother,pity me! pity me!"
Poor Florence suddenly fell on her knees. She bowed her head on thetable and burst into tears. It was not often she cried. Mrs. Aylmer didnot remember seeing Florence weep since that dreadful morning when theyhad both fled from Cherry Court in disgrace.
"Flo," she said, "Flo!"
"Pity me, Mummy; pity me!" said Florence.
The next instant the little Mummy's arms were round her.
"Oh, I am so glad you have a heart!" said the little Mummy, "and ofcourse I don't blame him for loving you, but I do not understand it.Bertha could not have known. She said she was quite a low sort ofperson. Oh, Flo, my love, this is splendid! You will marry him, ofcourse! I don't believe Susan has altered her will. You will just getthe riches in the very best possible way as his wife. I always said hewas a _most_ charming young man. It was Bertha who turned me againsthim. She is awfully clever, Flo, and if I really thought----"
"I dare not say anything against Bertha, mother. But I cannot go toAylmer's Court; you must not ask it. I am engaged now to Tom Franks, andI won't break my engagement off. I am a very, very unhappy girl."