Chapter XV Susan Marks
I may say at once that the police never found grandpapa. Neither Le Coq nor Edgar Allen Poe’s amateur would have done so, for the simple reason that my grandparent was growing younger at the rate of one year every five weeks or so; and though there is not much difference between one year and the next in adult life, yet when we deal with the period of adolescence, great changes become visible in brief periods. He was about five-and-twenty when we went to Upper Norwood, and two-and-twenty when we left that desirable neighbourhood, after a residence of about three months.
“You look your age; there’s no doubt about that, Martha,” he said to me once, in a very uncalled-for way.
“So do most respectable people,” I answered sharply. “We can’t all go backwards. The terms wouldn’t suit everybody.”
“You needn’t be personal,” he answered; “and you needn’t lose your temper. I say you look your age, and more than your age; and I’ll tell you why——”
He broke off and tapped a bottle significantly. “Go your own way, of course, but don’t say nobody ever tried to save you. Don’t say your grandfather didn’t warn you in time. You were as stupid as an owl last night when I came in. Yes, I know what you’re going to say: I had better look to myself before I criticise other people. But, remember, I don’t matter; my tour’s booked through. Things are different with you, and I tell you frankly it’s a sorry sight to see an old woman of your age going down the hill so fast. No grandfather could view such a spectacle calmly.”
How I wept to be sure. It was the first kind, thoughtful word I had ever heard from him since the commencement of the New Scheme. For several days afterwards his manner quite changed. He devoted himself to me, and, amongst other things, purchased me two dozen bottles of non-alcoholic bitter beer, and a book of intemperate temperance addresses.
All too soon, however, I discovered the reasons for this sudden outburst of affection. Dear grandpapa began to feel that he could not get on without me, and he had another little affair in hand.
I found a morocco case in his room one morning. It contained a very exquisite gold bracelet. He had been late overnight, and I had taken his breakfast up to him. The parcel with the bracelet came on the preceding evening while he was out. He had opened it on returning and left it open. As he was asleep when I took in his morning meal, I had time to examine the trinket. I looked at the costly toy, and then at grandpapa reposing peacefully and sweetly, with a glow of health and youth on his face. He lived out of doors now, and spent most of his time at the Palace. Of course the bracelet spoke louder than words.
He awoke, saw what I had seen, sat up, ate three eggs, much toast, and other things, then made a clean breast of his latest entanglement.
“It’s the purest, truest attachment—my first genuine love, so to speak, and my last. And she’s a girl to whom I can tell my secret; I feel that. Susan would believe anything. She will see me through the next two years or so, and then she will be left free to marry again. Yes, we are engaged. Socially it is a bit of a come-down from Mabel Talbot, but I don’t want to found a family or go in for a swagger connection. The girl loves me, and that’s quite good enough for me.”
“Who is she, grandpapa?”
“Nobody; at least I don’t know anything about her family. She doesn’t ever mention them, and I make no enquiries. I don’t want to be within the radius of another mother-in-law again at my time of life—I know them. We’re going to be married privately, and then run out to America. Susan keeps a stall at the Crystal Palace. She’s a model girl, and sells chocolate and sweetstuff generally. You might go and see her without saying anything. Just stop in a casual way and hear her talk. Buy a pennyworth of something and study the girl a little. She’s a perfect treasure of a woman in my opinion. I’ve reached an age now when goodness outweighs beauty and everything. But she is beautiful too. She hangs out under that statue of the lady and the horse—lady and horse both dressed alike. You’ll find her there, and you’ll recognise her if you go this afternoon by this bracelet, which she’ll have on by that time. Draw her out and you’ll find I’m right. She would cling to me and comfort my declining years. I shall tell her I’m going away to London for the afternoon; then you will have it all to yourself and see what a girl she is.”
I obeyed him, and that afternoon visited the Palace, found Lady Godiva without difficulty, and Susan Marks selling chocolate below. I saw the bracelet immediately. It was on the wrist of a big, dark girl, very showily dressed. She had bold, black eyes, that twinkled at the men as they passed, and a hard voice, which she endeavoured to make seductive as she lured visitors to the chocolate. She was talking to a young man when I arrived, and kept me waiting a considerable time. But I did not mind that; I was listening to some interesting conversation.
“Yes, it ain’t a bad bangle; my little mash, Dan Dolphin, gave it to me. He’s fairly gone on me—that’s straight. I’ve got fal-lals to the tune of three or four hundred quid out of him, and a promise of marriage.”
“Promise what you like, Sue, but no kid. Mind what you said. I ain’t jealous, but I’m No. 1, mind. He’s only No. 2.”
“No. 2! He’s No. 20 more like. You’re a fool, Tom, and you are jealous. And I like to see you angry. You know well enough, Tommy, that I never loved none but you. The fools come and the fools go, but Tom goes on for ever. This little chappie ought to be good for a hundred or two more—then we’ll be married, you and me, and I’ll cut the chocolate and the butterflies.”
Had they arranged their conversation expressly for my benefit, neither could have made a more conclusive, satisfactory, and at the same time disgraceful statement.
My blood boiled when I thought of my grandfather’s boyish passion being wasted on this minx.
“What are you starin’ at?” asked the girl rudely, suddenly realising that I was standing by the stall.
“I’m waiting to be served,” I answered. “I want one of those penny sticks of Cadbury’s chocolate, when you can make it convenient to attend to me.”
She gave me the refreshment, and I heard her utter a vulgar jest at my expense as I turned away. But, for all that, I hastened home with a light heart. Once more was I in a position to save grandpapa.