London's Heart: A Novel. Farjeon Benjamin Leopold

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      "I can't have all sorts of strangers knocking about my stage," he said.

      Gribble junior received the rebuke humbly; he was fully sensible of the privilege he was enjoying in being allowed to linger, if only for a few minutes, behind the scenes. Some of the singers and performers had followed Manager Storks, and they stood about in little groups, talking-not in the most refined language, it must be confessed. The luxury of adjectives was by far too freely indulged in. Gribble junior did not think so; he positively glowed with delight. Was he not almost rubbing elbows with the Inimitable Noodle and the Flashiest Man in London, whose dress and walk hundreds of boys in London were imitating! As for Lackbrain the Vacuous, his dull common face was regarded with reverence by Gribble junior. In such enchanting company the minutes flew away until Lily appeared, with the bouquet and a little bundle in her hand. Gribble junior was advancing toward her when he was pushed aside by the gentleman of the private box.

      "A friend of mine is anxious for an introduction, Miss Lily," said Manager Storks.

      The friend of the manager, who was introduced as Mr. Sheldrake, raised his hat, and Lily bowed and cast just a look at him; he murmured his pleasure at being introduced to such a charming lily-"the fairest flower in the entire Royal White Rose bouquet," he said gallantly. Ready of speech and smooth of manner was Mr. Sheldrake as he addressed Lily. He was not satisfied with Lily's bow, but held out his hand, on the little finger of which was a plain band of gold, in which a valuable diamond was set. Every respect was paid to the young girl, who replied with smiles and simple words to the civilities of speech with which she was greeted by one and another. Lackbrain the Vacuous offered to see her home.

      "Thank you," she said, advancing to Gribble junior; "I have an escort." And she placed her hand on Gribble's arm, and gave him the bundle to carry.

      "Let me have the pleasure of driving you home," said Mr. Sheldrake in his most agreeable voice; "my brougham is at the door."

      Lily shook her head laughingly, and thanked him, but she preferred to walk.

      "Then I'll walk a few steps with you," he said pertinaciously.

      Gribble junior did not like the proposal, neither did Lily approve of it; but Mr. Sheldrake was not to be shaken off. When they left the Hall it was half an hour after midnight. The Sabbath-day had commenced, and had not commenced well. The glare of a noonday sun could scarcely have been more powerful in its effect than the bright light which fell from the open shops on the people and the thoroughfare. Fish-shops and glove-shops, cigar-shops and refreshment houses, the first and last especially, were driving a brisk trade. The pushing, the struggling, the anxious faces, the drunken forms, the senseless enjoyment, the joyless mirth, the fevered life, the various aspects in which human nature was there presented, were sad to witness. Here and there in the scene were patches of shade formed by narrow thoroughfares where no light was, and at the corners of these thoroughfares, standing in the shade and forming part of it, policemen might occasionally be seen, waiting quietly to play their part in the torrent which the law allows to flow. Before one of these guardians of the peace-most paradoxical designation in such a scene-two men of the lower classes paused, and were immediately desired to move on. They were costermongers; their appearance was as rough as their speech. But that one of them at all events was logical, and that there was reason in his logic, were in some measure proved by his speech.

      "This is Sunday, ain't it?" he asked.

      "Yes," answered the policeman good-humouredly, "and time for you to be abed."

      "Thank yer for nothin', Bobby," he said, swaying slightly before the policeman; "but my mate 'ere wants me to arks yer somethin' fust. He wants to know why these 'ere swell shops is allowed to keep open arter twelve o'clock on Saturday nights, and why he was summonsed afore the beak for sellin' wegetables last Sunday?"

      "Come, move on," was the only reply from the policeman.

      "But, look 'ere now," urged the costermonger; "'ere he is with 'is barrer – "

      "Yes, that's it, Dropsy!" exclaimed the second man, illustrating the position with eloquent action. "That's it. 'Ere I am with my barrer – "

      But the policeman, not at all disposed to parley, and not at all curious to know the history of the man's "barrer," used effectual arguments to relieve himself of the controversial costermongers, who consoled each other, as they staggered away, by agreeing that "it was a blazin' shame, that's what it was!"

      Through such scenes as this, Lily and her escort walked to the humble home in Soho. Mr. Sheldrake almost entirely monopolised the conversation, talking much about himself, and about the pleasure it would give him to improve an acquaintance so agreeably commenced. Notwithstanding that it was past midnight, he threw out hints that nothing could afford him so much pleasure as being invited into the house; but as no invitation followed the expression of this desire, he was compelled to bid Lily good-night at the street-door.

      When he was alone, he stood in the quiet street, looking up at the light in the room where the old man had been waiting anxiously for his darling Lily.

      CHAPTER IV

      MR. DAVID SHELDRAKE COMES TO A SHREWD CONCLUSION

      Mr. David Sheldrake, smooth and bland in voice and manner, lingered about the streets for several minutes. It was a beautifully clear night, and he may have been inclined for meditation. His appearance was sufficiently respectable for such an indulgence, and a policeman who stood in the shadow of a doorway quietly observing him did not think it necessary to interfere with him. He glanced up at the first-floor window, and saw the shadow of a woman upon the blind. "I wonder if that is her room," he thought. "What a little nugget she is!" He wished that somebody would come to the street-door, that he might ask if Lily lived on the first-floor; but no one came, and the narrow street was still and quiet. "David," he said to himself, "that girl's pretty face has quite bewitched you." He seemed to take pleasure in the thought, and smiled to himself complacently. It was evidently not the first time that he had been bewitched by a pretty face. He took his cigar-case from his pocket, and, turning to a doorway to obtain a light for his cigar, saw the policeman.

      "A fine night, policeman," he said.

      "Yes, sir," acquiesced the policeman civilly.

      "Been on this beat long, policeman?"

      "A considerable time, sir."

      "Pretty quiet about here, isn't it?"

      "Pretty quiet, sir. But we get enough trouble out there;" with a nod of his head in the direction of the Royal White Rose Music-hall.

      "Ah, I daresay. Saturday nights especially."

      "As you say, sir; Saturday nights especially."

      "A cigar, policeman?"

      "No, thank you, sir; not allowed to smoke."

      Mr. Sheldrake coughed, and the policeman coughed in sympathy.

      "Can we get anything to drink about here, policeman?"

      "Not to-night, sir," said the policeman somewhat stiffly. "The houses shut at twelve, Saturday nights."

      His two bribes having been refused, Mr. Sheldrake bethought himself of another. But first he said, as he put his hand into his pocket,

      "Who lives in that house opposite, policeman?"

      "Quite a number of people, sir. Half a dozen families, I should say."

      Here the СКАЧАТЬ