Chapter92

thefollowingdaywastuesday.philipasusualhurriedthroughhisbreakfastanddashedofftogettohislectureatnine.hehadonlytimetoexchangeafewwordswithmildred.whenhecamebackintheeveninghefoundherseatedatthewindow,darninghissocks.

“isay,youareindustrious,”hesmiled.“whathaveyoubeendoingwithyourselfallday?”  “oh,igavetheplaceagoodcleaningandthenitookbabyoutforalittle.”

shewaswearinganoldblackdress,thesameasshehadwornasuniformwhensheservedinthetea-shop;itwasshabby,butshelookedbetterinitthaninthesilkofthedaybefore.thebabywassittingonthefloor.shelookedupatphilipwithlarge,mysteriouseyesandbrokeintoalaughwhenhesatdownbesideherandbeganplayingwithherbaretoes.theafternoonsuncameintotheroomandshedamellowlight.

“it’sratherjollytocomebackandfindsomeoneabouttheplace.awomanandababymakeverygooddecorationinaroom.”

hehadgonetothehospitaldispensaryandgotabottleofblaud’spills,hegavethemtomildredandtoldhershemusttakethemaftereachmeal.itwasaremedyshewasusedto,forshehadtakenitoffandoneversinceshewassixteen.

“i’msurelawsonwouldlovethatgreenskinofyours,”saidphilip.“he’dsayitwassopaintable,buti’mterriblymatteroffactnowadays,andishan’tbehappytillyou’reaspinkandwhiteasamilkmaid.”

“ifeelbetteralready.”

afterafrugalsupperphilipfilledhispouchwithoandputonhishat.itwasontuesdaysthathegenerallywenttothetaverninbeakstreet,andhewasgladthatthisdaycamesosoonaftermildred’sarrival,forhewantedtomakehisrelationswithherperfectlyclear.

“areyougoingout?”shesaid.

“yes,ontuesdaysigivemyselfanightoff.ishallseeyoutomorrow.good-night.”

philipalwayswenttothetavernwithasenseofpleasure.macalister,thephilosophicstockbroker,wasgenerallythereandgladtoargueuponanysubjectunderthesun;haywardcameregularlywhenhewasinlondon;andthoughheandmacalisterdislikedoneanothertheycontinuedoutofhabittomeetonthatoneeveningintheweek.macalisterthoughthaywardapoorcreature,andsneeredathisdelicaciesofsentiment:heaskedsatiricallyabouthayward’sliteraryworkandreceivedwithscornfulsmileshisvagueestionsoffuturemasterpieces;theirargumentswereoftenheated;butthepunchwasgood,andtheywerebothfondofit;towardstheendoftheeveningtheygenerallycomposedtheirdifferencesandthoughteachothercapitalfellows.thiseveningphilipfoundthemboththere,andlawsonalso;lawsoncamemoreseldomnowthathewasbeginningtoknowpeopleinlondonandwentouttodinneragooddeal.theywereallonexcellenttermswiththemselves,formacalisterhadgiventhemagoodthingonthestockexchange,andhaywardandlawsonhadmadefiftypoundsapiece.itwasagreatthingforlawson,whowasextravagantandearnedlittlemoney:hehadarrivedatthatstageoftheportrait-painter’scareerwhenhewasnoticedagooddealbythecriticsandfoundanumberofaristocraticladieswhowerewillingtoallowhimtopaintthemfornothing(itadvertisedthemboth,andgavethegreatladiesquiteanairofpatronessesofthearts);butheveryseldomgotholdofthesolidphilistinewhowasreadytopaygoodmoneyforaportraitofhiswife.lawsonwasbrimmingoverwithsatisfaction.

“it’sthemostrippingwayofmakingmoneythati’veeverstruck,”hecried.“ididn’thavetoputmyhandinmypocketforsixpence.”

“youlostsomethingbynotbeingherelasttuesday,youngman,”saidmacalistertophilip.

“mygod,whydidn’tyouwritetome?”saidphilip.“ifyouonlyknewhowusefulahundredpoundswouldbetome.”

“oh,therewasn’ttimeforthat.onehastobeonthespot.iheardofagoodthinglasttuesday,andiaskedthesefellowsifthey’dliketohaveaflutter,iboughtthemathousandsharesonwednesdaymorning,andtherewasariseintheafternoonsoisoldthematonce.imadefiftypoundsforeachofthemandacoupleofhundredformyself.”

philipwassickwithenvy.hehadrecentlysoldthelastmortgageinwhichhissmallfortunehadbeeninvestedandnowhadonlysixhundredpoundsleft.hewaspanic-strickensometimeswhenhethoughtofthefuture.hehadstilltokeephimselffortwoyearsbeforehecouldbequalified,andthenhemeanttotryforhospitalappointments,sothathecouldnotexpecttoearnanythingforthreeyearsatleast.withthemostrigideconomyhewouldnothavemorethanahundredpoundsleftthen.itwasverylittletohaveasastand-byincasehewasillandcouldnotearnmoneyorfoundhimselfatanytimewithoutwork.aluckygamblewouldmakeallthedifferencetohim.

“oh,well,itdoesn’tmatter,”saidmacalister.“somethingissuretoturnupsoon.there’llbeaboominsouthafricansagainoneofthesedays,andtheni’llseewhaticandoforyou.”

macalisterwasinthekaffirmarketandoftentoldthemstoriesofthesuddenfortunesthathadbeen

madeinthegreatboomofayearortwoback.

“well,don’tforgetnexttime.”

theysatontalkingtillnearlymidnight,andphilip,wholivedfurthestoff,wasthefirsttogo.ifhedidnotcatchthelasttramhehadtowalk,andthatmadehimverylate.asitwashedidnotreachhometillnearlyhalfpasttwelve.whenhegotupstairshewassurprisedtofindmildredstillsittinginhisarm-chair.

“whyoneartharen’tyouinbed?”hecried.

“iwasn’tsleepy.”

“yououghttogotobedallthesame.itwouldrestyou.”

shedidnotmove.henoticedthatsincesuppershehadchangedintoherblacksilkdress.

“ithoughti’dratherwaitupforyouincaseyouwantedanything.”

shelookedathim,andtheshadowofasmileplayeduponherthinpalelips.philipwasnotsurewhetherheunderstoodornot.hewasslightlyembarrassed,butassumedacheerful,matter-of-factair.

“it’sveryniceofyou,butit’sverynaughtyalso.runofftobedasfastasyoucan,oryouwon’tbeabletogetuptomorrowmorning.”

“idon’tfeellikegoingtobed.”

“nonsense,”hesaidcoldly.

shegotup,alittlesulkily,andwentintoherroom.hesmiledwhenheheardherlockthedoorloudly.

thenextfewdayspassedwithoutincident.mildredsettleddowninhernewsurroundings.whenphiliphurriedoffafterbreakfastshehadthewholemorningtodothehousework.theyateverysimply,butshelikedtotakealongtimetobuythefewthingstheyneeded;shecouldnotbebotheredtocookanythingforherdinner,butmadeherselfsomecocoaandatebreadandbutter;thenshetookthebabyoutinthegocart,andwhenshecameinspenttherestoftheafternooninidleness.shewastiredout,anditsuitedhertodosolittle.shemadefriendswithphilip’sforbiddinglandladyovertherent,whichheleftwithmildredtopay,andwithinaweekwasabletotellhimmoreabouthisneighboursthanhehadlearnedinayear.

“she’saverynicewoman,”saidmildred.“quitethelady.itoldherwewasmarried.”

“d’youthinkthatwasnecessary?”“well,ihadtotellhersomething.itlookssofunnymebeinghereandnotmarriedtoyou.ididn’tknowwhatshe’dthinkofme.”

“idon’tsupposeshebelievedyouforamoment.”

“thatshedid,ilay.itoldherwe’dbeenmarriedtwoyears—ihadtosaythat,youknow,becauseofbaby—onlyyourpeoplewouldn’thearofit,becauseyouwasonlyastudent”—shepronounceditstoodent—”andsowehadtokeepitasecret,butthey’dgivenwaynowandwewereallgoingdowntostaywiththeminthesummer.”

“you’reapastmistressofthecock-and-bullstory,”saidphilip.

hewasvaguelyirritatedthatmildredstillhadthispassionfortellingfibs.inthelasttwoyearsshehadlearntnothing.butheedhisshoulders.

“whenall’ssaidanddone,”hereflected,“shehasn’thadmuchchance.”

itwasabeautifulevening,warmandcloudless,andthepeopleofsouthlondonseemedtohavepouredoutintothestreets.therewasthatrestlessnessintheairwhichseizesthecockneysometimeswhenaturnintheweathercallshimintotheopen.aftermildredhadclearedawaythesuppershewentandstoodatthewindow.thestreetnoisescameuptothem,noisesofpeoplecallingtooneanother,ofthepassingtraffic,ofabarrel-organinthedistance.

“isupposeyoumustworktonight,philip?”sheaskedhim,withawistfulexpression.

“iought,butidon’tknowthatimust.why,d’youwantmetodoanythingelse?”

“i’dliketogooutforabit.couldn’twetakearide

onthetopofatram?”

“ifyoulike.”

“i’lljustgoandputonmyhat,”shesaidjoyfully.

thenightmadeitalmostimpossibletostayindoors.thebabywasasleepandcouldbesafelyleft;mildredsaidshehadalwaysleftitaloneatnightwhenshewentout;itneverwoke.shewasinhighspiritswhenshecamebackwithherhaton.shehadtakentheopportunitytoputonalittlerouge.philipthoughtitwasexcitementwhichhadbroughtafaintcolourtoherpalecheeks;hewastouchedbyherchild-likedelight,andreproachedhimselffortheausteritywithwhichhehadtreatedher.shelaughedwhenshegotoutintotheair.thefirsttramtheysawwasgoingtowardswestminsterbridgeandtheygotonit.philipsmokedhispipe,andtheylookedatthecrowdedstreet.theshopswereopen,gailylit,andpeopleweredoingtheirshoppingforthenextday.theypassedamusic-hallcalledthecanterburyandmildredcriedout:

“oh,philip,dolet’sgothere.ihaven’tbeentoamusic-hallformonths.”

“wecan’taffordstalls,youknow.”

“oh,idon’tmind,ishallbequitehappyinthegallery.”