Beyond The Blue Mountains - Plaidy Jean - Страница 53

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“Yes,” said Kitty, ‘leave the door open.”

Carolan stood in the dark interior of the shop, and wondered where to begin. Such a hotchpotch! And how typical of her father to show the most unattractive of his goods in the most prominent positions! Those old clothes hanging in the doorway; shabby things green with age! And the window chock-full of unwholesome looking garments, while in odd trays he had quite an assortment of pretty, though apparently cheap, jewellery. And if some of the old silver were polished up, what an attractive face the little shop could show the world!

First of all she would take the old coats from the doorway; then she would clear the window. Cheerfully she set to work, and in a short time she had a pile of unsavoury garments laid out on the floor. The window space was clear, but very dirty. She would dust it for today, and tomorrow she would get Millie to help her and they would get to work in earnest.

“Darling,” wailed Kitty, ‘such a dust is floating through!”

“It shows how badly it needed cleaning!” called Carolan excitedly.

There was a smear of dust on her nose; her eyes were brilliant. Now and then she would click her tongue indulgently, as some fresh example of her father’s carelessness came to light. She found a piece of black velvet and enjoyed herself, laying out the jewellery on it. The shop was going to be tasteful, as alluring as the shops she had passed on her way here. She tried to visualize her father’s pleasure when he saw the alterations.

She stood, her head on one side, surveying her handiwork. She frowned at the great bunch of old coats hanging against the wall just behind the counter. An eyesore! As soon as she touched them a moth flew out. She began to pull them down, but they were heavy and not easy to move. She had to get a chair to stand on and unhook them. And when she had them down, a door was disclosed; she tried it, but it was locked!

“Mammal’ she called.

“What door is this?”

“What door, my love?”

“A door here in the shop. There were a lot of coats hanging over it. It is locked!”

“A door …” mused Kitty.

“Oh, I remember. We never use it; we always keep it locked. At least I think your father uses it sometimes… I do not know.”

“Where does it lead to, Mamma?”

“I think to a basement room! I’m not sure.”

Carolan went to the door between the shop and the parlour. She surveyed her mother with exasperation.

“Mamma, do you mean to say you have never been through that door?”

“Why should I go through it?” asked Kitty.

“But surely, when you came to the house…”

Kitty yawned indolently.

“My darling, shut the door. The dust is worrying my throat, and my throat was never really strong. I often thought that, had it been, my mother would have had me trained to sing. She said my voice was exactly like Elizabeth Sheridan’s.” She smiled, flushed with the applause of an enthusiastic audience.

“But when you looked over the house,” persisted Carolan impatiently, ‘did you not open that door and see what was beyond it?”

“My dear,” said Kitty, “I was not as inquisitive as you. I do not worry myself where this leads, and what is beyond that. It is a mistake to worry about things that are of no importance.”

Carolan sat on the table.

“Mamma, tell me about how you came to the shop. Where did you get all this furniture? It is by no means new; did you pick it up through the business?”

“When we came to the shop…” began Kitty.

“Well, it was just as it is now, when we came to the shop; I do not remember it any different.”

“Ah.” said Carolan, swinging her legs.

“I can guess what happened; my father bought the place just as it was furniture and all. He must have had a windfall, if before you were so poor that you had nothing to eat!”

“Yes, that was it,” said Kitty.

Carolan took her mother’s face between her hands and kissed it. She was thinking of Darrell’s trying to explain his business affairs to this adorable, inconsequent creature.

Poor darling Mamma, and poor darling Father! she thought. She leaped off the table and went back to the shop.

She decided to heap all the clothes into a corner and consult her father about them when he came in; and as she was doing this the bell tinkled and a man walked in. A customer! she thought jubilantly. But almost immediately she recognized him as Jonathan Crew.

“Good afternoon!” he said.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Crew.”

His great dark eyes went all round the shop, from the window to the newly exposed door.

“You are very busy…”

“Indeed yes. And you? You are not working this afternoon?”

When he smiled, his skin seemed tighter than ever. He exposed a row of strong white teeth.

“Sometimes I am sent from my office on certain commissions. If I execute them with speed, why should I not have a half-hour to spend as I will! You are well, after your adventures of yesterday?”

“Very well, I thank you.”

“And making good use of your time, I can see.”

“Do you notice any difference in the shop? But I suppose you do not; it was dusk when you saw it, was it not?”

“I notice some alterations; I have always been told that I am an observant man.”

“And the change is for the better?”

“Very much for the better!”

Kitty called through the door: “Who it that, Carolan?”

“It is Mr. Crew come to inquire how I am after yesterday’s journey.”

“Come in!” cried Kitty.

“Come in. Me Crew.”

Carolan led him into the parlour.

Kitty, sitting upright in her chair, extended her hand; she was like a queen graciously receiving an honoured subject.

“It is indeed kind of you, Mr. Crew.”

He bowed courteously over Kitty’s hand.

“I was anxious to know how your daughter was today. Ma’am. London gave her a rough welcome, I fear.”

“Not all London amused Kitty.

“And she has you to thank for that, sir!”

“It was the greatest pleasure to be of some small service.”

Carolan’s eyes strayed back to the shop.

There are one or two things I must dear up before my father returns. If you will excuse me, Mr. Crew… You talk to Mr. Crew, Mamma, while I finish.”

Kitty pouted. Was this the way to treat a gentleman caller! Carolan must learn better. There was a smudge of dirt across her nose, and her pretty hair looked most inelegant.

“Run to your room, darling.” said Kitty severely.

“Wash, and change your dress. I will entertain Mr. Crew while you do so.”

“No, no!” insisted Mr. Crew.

“I see I make a nuisance of myself. Miss Carolan is a young lady who, having started a job, win wish to complete it. I admire her for it; moreover I will help.”

“There is no need.” said Carolan. There is little to do now.”

“Nevertheless, I insist on helping!” And help he did; he worked very hard, stacking the old clothes together in a corner of the room.

This kind of shop interests me greatly.” he said.

“You never know what you will find!”

When they had finished. Carolan said: “I long to see my father’s face when he comes in.”

“He will be astonished, I am sure. How long do you stay, Miss Carolan ?”

“I am not certain. Two months, or possibly less.” Two months can be a long time. And your idea is to turn this shop, before you leave, into what it was surely meant to be?” That is my idea.”

“I sincerely hope that you will achieve it.” There is my mother calling; let us go to her.”

Kitty, the mother, a little shocked at the unconventional behaviour of her daughter, but smiling indulgently because she was such a child, said: “Now, Carolan, go to your room and wash your hands and face at once. To please me… go. I insist!”

When Carolan returned Mr. Crew was talking of London; and how vividly he talked! Carolan was ready to listen as eagerly as her mother. He told of the pleasure gardens, the coffee and chocolate houses, the play. He had seen Mr. Sheridan’s School for Scandal years back; he had seen the great Mrs. Siddons herself. He often caught glimpses of the Prince and Princess of Wales; and when he was a mere boy he had once seen the Prince with Mrs. Perdita Robinson; that was in the days when the Prince was young and handsome and had not put on weight so distressingly, before he had married Maria Fitzherbert. And yes, Mr. Crew confessed he had set eyes on the fair Maria too. He seemed to know everything and have been everywhere. Kitty loved such talk and drank it in eagerly. She told Mr. Crew that someone had said she was remarkably like Sarah Siddons, though for the life of her she could not see where! Mr. Crew put his head on one side and made a play of studying her critically. Yes, he said, there was a resemblance, but he thought it was chiefly in the expression.

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