FullReads

‘Yes, sir. Please sir, we’re all distraught with grief. You have heard of the–the–‘

‘I have heard of the calamity, through Mrs Potts. Can I speak to your mistress?’

‘I’ll inquire, please sir. Missus is having her fourth hysteric fit just now.’

‘Then I beg’–Mr Martin’s face grew quite white–‘I beg you won’t disturb her until she is equal to seeing me.’ (‘How awful if the fifth comes on in this room,’ he mentally thought. ‘I’ve a good mind to tell her not to disturb herself.’)

But Jane had vanished.

In about a quarter of an hour Mrs Franklin appeared. She was pale, but her grief was temperate.

‘Yes,’ she said, ‘I am in very great distress. The children, Peter and Flossy, have evidently run away with that poor baby. Flossy was in the room when you spoke to me this morning, Mr Martin, and she must have taken fright at your words. The children took the opportunity to leave the house when I was out marketing. Your steak is being cooked, Mr Martin. I must apologise for the delay.’

‘Madam, I beg you won’t mention it. I am deeply grieved that this should have happened, and that I am the cause. I am more grieved than I can possibly express. I would rather lie awake all night listening to those yells of that miserable infant than that this–this–should have happened. The alarm, the upsetting of the household routine, the inroad into my sanctum of that awful female–h’m–of your drawing-room lodger–and last but not least, the danger to three innocent human creatures. I am overpowered with remorse at the sorry part I have played myself.’

‘Don’t mention it, Mr Martin. I always said there’d be trouble when the baby was brought. It can’t be helped now. Of course we must keep it, but I’m sorry to lose a valuable and considerate lodger like yourself, sir.’

‘H’m! Are any steps being taken to recover the children?’

‘My husband has gone to the nearest police-station, sir. Poor mites, and Flossy’s not so strong in her chest. They’re safe to be back by to-night, Mr Martin. And perhaps you’d like some one to help you with your packing, sir?’

‘H’m! I’ll consider it,’ said Mr Martin. ‘I’m–I’m not such a young man as I was, Mrs Franklin.’

‘Oh, I’m sure, sir. Well, we’re none of us that, are we? I should take you, sir, begging your pardon, to be but a very little way on the wrong side of forty.’

Mr Martin chuckled, and then grew grave.

‘On the wrong side of sixty,’ he said. ‘Now, now, no humbugging, I beg.’

‘Well, sir, about the packing. My head is all in a muddle, it is true, but any help that I can give’–

‘What do you say to a baize door?’ replied Mr Martin, rather irrelevantly.

‘I–I beg your pardon, sir?’

‘And a very thick curtain inside my room door? It is true I have heard it remarked that the wails of an infant when teething will penetrate through any obstacles. Still, a baize door inside your nursery door, and thick curtains inside mine would soften the disturbance–yes, would soften it. I was going to say that I would provide them.’

‘Then you will stay after all, sir?’

‘Well, well, do you agree with me? do you think my plan will make matters easier?’

‘Oh, won’t they just!’ said Mrs Franklin, tears now brimming over in her eyes. ‘You’re a good man, Mr Martin, and God will bless you, sir.’

* * * * *

‘Mother,’ said Flossy, when at last she got home, ‘it’s all right about Dickory. We took her to the lady what cried.’

Mrs Franklin had Flossy in her arms when she made this remark. Now she pressed her close with one arm, and with the other drew Peter to her side.