A Humble Enterprise - The Original Classic Edition. Ada Cambridge

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СКАЧАТЬ "Now, dears," she said earnestly, "you know we must do something to keep ourselves, and at the same time to keep a home; don't you?"

       They sighed acquiescence.

       "And that isn't playwork--we don't expect it to be all pleasure; and we can't afford to have fine-lady fancies, can we?"

       They agreed to this, reluctantly.

       "Well, then, if we can't do what we would like, we must do what we can. And I can't think of anything more promising than this. I would have quite a small place to begin with--one room, and some sort of kitchen to prepare things in--because rent is the only serious matter, and we must make the thing self-supporting from the first; that is the attraction of my plan, if it has an attraction--the thing I have been specially scheming for. Because, you see, then, if we fail, there won't be any great harm done."

       "The publicity!" murmured Mrs. Liddon; and Joey took up the word, and drew offensive pictures of rowdy men invading the establishment, calling for food and drink, and addressing these born ladies as "my dear."

       "There will be nothing of that sort," said Jenny calmly. "The place will have no attractions for that class. We must not prohibit men, for that would discourage general custom----"

       "Oh--custom!" sneered Joey, with an air of loathing.

       "But it will be a woman's place, that men would not think of coming to except to bring women. Just a quiet room, mother; not

       all rows of chairs and tables, like a common restaurant--the best of our own furniture, with some wicker chairs added, and a few small tables, like a comfortable private sitting-room, only not so crowded; and floored with linoleum, so that we can wash it easily. Then just tea and coffee and scones--perhaps some little cakes--nothing perishable or messy; perhaps some delicate sandwiches, so that ladies can make a lunch. Only these simple things, but they as perfectly good as it is possible to make them. Mother, your scones----"

       Mrs. Liddon smiled. She saw at once that her scones alone would make the tea-room famous.

       "We must do everything ourselves," said Jenny, "everything; no out-goings except for rent and our few superfine groceries. Consequently we must not undertake too much. Say we open at eleven o'clock and close at eight--no, at seven. That will give us time to prepare in the morning, and our evenings for rest. Mother, dear, you must cook. I will wait. We cannot accommodate more than twenty or so at first, and I can manage that. Sarah can get ready the tea and coffee, and perhaps take the money when we are busy. A few dozen of nice white cups and saucers and a lot of plates--I could get them wholesale. I wish we could afford nice table covers, but I am afraid they, and the washing, would cost too much; we must have American cloth, I suppose. And butter--we must be very careful what arrangements we make for butter, to be sure of having it new every morning; and we must keep it cold--that, above all things. Though we only give tea and scones, let everybody say that they never bought such tea and scones before. Eh, mother?"

       "They won't buy better, if I have anything to do with it," said Mrs. Liddon, putting her handkerchief in her pocket.

       Thus Jenny unfolded her scheme, and gradually talked her family into a conditional agreement with it. Only Joey was persistently hostile, and he, when she begged him to suggest a better, was fain to acknowledge that no better occurred to him. All he hoped and trusted was that his sister would not drag the family name into the mire--that was to say, not more so than the wretched state of things necessitated. "The Liddons," said the boy, as he rose from the interview, "have never been in trade before."

       "And wouldn't you rather be a proprietor in Churchill & Son's than a junior clerk?" was Jenny's quick retort, as he left the room.

       5

       The only possible rejoinder was to bang the door, and Joey banged it heartily.

       CHAPTER II

       HER FIRST FRIEND

       The chief of Churchill & Son suffered no social disadvantage from being in trade, and enjoyed many satisfactions that are unknown to the wealthy who have nothing to do. His mind was alert and keen, his large, wholesome-looking body a picture of well-being and contentment, his attitude towards the world and things in general one of consistent self-respect. He was one of that numerous band of perfectly-dressed and exquisitely clean old gentlemen who pervade the city-wending tram-cars of a morning between 9 and 10 o'clock, and are a delight to the eyes of all true lovers of their country, as comprising the solid base of its material prosperity. Solid in every sense was Mr. Nicholas Churchill, a sound, just man, whose word was his bond, and whose signature was good for six figures

       at the bank; a man who had succeeded in life and commerce without cheating anybody, and was esteemed according to his deserts, as we all are--though we don't always think so.

       He walked into the breakfast-room of his little palace at Toorak, on a certain spring morning, and, having kissed his children and shaken hands with the governess, sat down to table and propped his newspaper before him. His wife, a smart young lady in a long-tailed lace-frilled gown, poured out his coffee, and his married daughter helped him to fish; for it was a rule of the house to save him all trouble of helping himself or others at this end of the day. The married daughter, Mrs. Oxenham, was rather older than his wife, and was not now a member of the household, but a visitor from a large station in the north-eastern hills; she had come down

       to meet the mail which was bringing out her brother, Mr. Churchill's eldest son, from home, and the arrival of which at Adelaide had been telegraphed the day before. She was a tall, distinguished-looking woman, a source of great pride and enjoyment to her father, who addressed to her the most of what little conversation he had time for.

       "This is curious," he remarked, between two mouthfuls of buttered toast. "Look here, Mary--poor old Liddon's wife, I'll bet you

       anything. Read this."

       She leaned over to him, and looked at the newspaper where he had fixed it to the table with a broad thumb. After a short silence she ejaculated, "Oh, poor things!" It was her comment upon the following advertisement:--

       "TO LADIES SHOPPING. Quiet room, with good tea and scones. Open from 11 a.m. to 7 p.m. Mrs. Liddon, No. ----, Little Collins Street, W."

       "Well," said Mr. Churchill, "it is not our fault. We were ready and willing to assist them." "As was only right," Mrs. Oxenham murmured, "seeing how long he was with the firm."

       "And as good a servant as it ever had. Yes, I felt that it was our duty to do something for the widow and children, and I sent them a little sum--a cheque for a hundred it was--thinking it might be acceptable. You'd have thought so, wouldn't you? I've done it before, dozens of times, and always found 'em grateful. But here--well, they just sent it back by return of post."

       "Oh!" A faint flush overspread his daughter's face. "Did you put it nicely, do you think?"

       "I didn't put it at all, but it was a very proper letter--I read it before I signed it--speaking most highly of the old fellow's character and services, and all that sort of thing. In fact, they thanked us for what we said of him, and didn't seem to feel insulted--it was a nice little note enough----"

       "Whose?"

       "Janet Liddon was the name--his daughter, writing on her mother's behalf. But the money they wouldn't touch with a pair of tongs.

       Too proud, of course."

       "Of course. Oh, I do like to hear of that kind of pride! I was afraid it had died right out in these sordid times."

       "So was I. I can tell you СКАЧАТЬ