mary drew back a moment to see what was going to happen. she ought to have been utterly taken by surprise at her discovery, but she felt no emotion of that kind. she was past the feeling--life had been too full of thrilling incidents during the last few hours for that. it never occurred to the girl that she had made a mistake. in an instant her mind was made up. very swiftly and silently she darted after lady dashwood, and followed her into a room at the back of the house. there was a grimy specimen of the london charwoman on the floor, scrubbing the dirty boards apparently in readiness for the laying of a roll of linoleum that stood in one corner. a bottle half filled with beer ornamented the mantelpiece, and from this the worker on the floor frequently refreshed herself, as her red face testified.
she looked up angrily as lady dashwood entered. the intruder had to ask her question twice before she drew a reply.
"mrs. speed isn't in," the woman said, "and if she was, she would not care to see any visitors as yet. we only moved in here last night, and not so much as an odd man to help for love nor money, and me fit to drop."
"i am sorry to hear that," lady dashwood said in her gentle manner, "i have come up from the country especially to see mrs. speed. can you give me any idea what time she is likely to be back again?"
"no, i can't," was the surly reply, "not before tea-time anyway. if you like to wait in the dining-room, you can do so--you don't look the sort to go off with anything. and there's an armchair or two in there."
as lady dashwood turned she came face to face with mary. she stood quite still, too utterly surprised to speak. mary took her by the arm, and led the way to the dining-room. she pushed one of the chairs forward, and invited lady dashwood to sit down. then mary closed the door. she smiled at the helpless amazement of lady dashwood's face.
"mary, my dear child, what are you doing here?" the elder lady gasped.
"i might ask you the same question," mary said. "what you regard as a most strange coincidence has a very prosaic explanation. oh, my dearest, if you only knew how glad i am to see you again! if you only knew how i have missed you. but i need not go into that now; there will be plenty of time presently. my dear, i have been learning things the last two days and have been making discoveries. you may not believe it, but i am glad that i came here, yes, glad, glad!"
"you are looking fairly well," lady dashwood observed. "a little pale and drawn, but there is something in your eyes that i never noticed before. a sort of new strength and tenderness combined, not so hard and proud. but you seem pale and tired."
mary laughed. she had good reason to be pale and tired. she wondered what lady dashwood would say when she heard last night's adventure.
"i am utterly worn out," she said frankly, "and yet i am glad i came to london. you can't tell how much good it is doing me. strange as it may seem, i am quite happy, and all the more so because i am fighting for the good of other people. hitherto, i have never thought of anybody but myself. as you know, i came up to london with an idea of getting my own living. i was going to be very proud and independent. i had a vague idea that being a dashwood would make the ground clear for me. i blush now to think of my ignorance and folly. but i am wandering from the point. you will recollect that mr. darnley offered to ask a friend of his in london to assist me.
"i refused the offer, of course, in my stupid way. but connie colam met me at victoria. what i should have done without her, goodness knows. she was kindness itself to me. and in a very short time we became fast friends. fancy me, me, giving my heart to a girl who lives in bloomsbury, and gets her living by doing horrible drawings for a low-class paper!"
"it seems strange," lady dashwood murmured, "i hope that she is----"
"my dear, connie is a lady. oh, if you only knew how my eyes have been opened! and there is another girl, a lady, too, called grace cameron. but you are going to meet them and satisfy yourself that i am not degrading the great house of dashwood. grace cameron is an invalid, and last night we stayed at her house very late finishing some work for her. we did not get home till past two in the morning. what do you think of that for a dashwood?"
lady dashwood could not repress a smile. it seemed very dreadful and unconventional, but there was a glad, tender ring in mary's voice that the elder lady liked.
"we walked home through the streets at that hour," mary went on, "and when we reached our rooms the house was empty. everything had gone! and that brings me to the cause of my presence here at this moment. our landlady was mrs. speed, the woman who has just moved in here. she had got into trouble over her rent; she was afraid that her furniture was going to be sold up, and when we were out last night she had taken everything away. no doubt the poor woman was half distracted, but it was a cruel thing to do with us. she might have given us a hint. she might have left our belongings behind. but she didn't and there we were bereft of everything that we possessed in the world at two o'clock in the morning."
"oh, my darling," lady dashwood cried, "what did you do then?"
"there was nothing to do. we had very little money and nowhere to go. so, as it was a fine night, we slept on the thames embankment and breakfasted at a coffee stall in the morning. mary dashwood sleeping in the streets! fancy it! today i discovered where mrs. speed had gone, and i am here to demand the return of our goods and chattels. but i can quite understand why you are here."
"what do you mean?" lady dashwood faltered.
"well, i will tell you. when i went to mrs. speed's to share rooms with connie i was struck by the appearance of the woman. it seemed to me that i had seen her before, and in some strange way she recalled my very early childhood. i seemed to recollect the creature years and years ago sitting in your boudoir and crying. she was wearing a black dress. it is one of the fragments of memory that cling to one long after the surrounding circumstances are forgotten. i could not get rid of the feeling, and i asked the woman about it. she said i must be mistaken, because she came from a place called dashwood, near dashwood hall. i doubt if she knew my name. i had my own reasons for not betraying my identity as you can imagine, but when mrs. speed told me that i knew that i was not mistaken. and knowing that she came from the old place, i was not surprised to see you here after all."
lady dashwood's agitation deepened. mary could see that she was greatly moved.
"the woman spoke the truth," the elder lady whispered, "her people lived on the estate for many generations. and for years i have lost sight of her. i can't tell you the story, mary, because it is not all mine to tell. and this morning i received a telegram from mrs. speed at this address saying that she was in great trouble and asking for an interview. i did not send any answer to the telegram because i decided to come in person. when things are explained, they always become more simple."
"not in this case," mary said boldly. "my dear, i have found out something far more important than that mrs. speed comes from dashwood. i was going to the kitchen to get a glass of milk yesterday morning when i heard what sounded like a quarrel in the dining-room between mrs. speed and some man. the man's voice sounded so familiar to me that i stopped to listen. he was after some letters, the name of dashwood was mentioned--one letter was of the greatest importance. and then the man came out; he did not see me, but i recognised him. can you guess who he was?"
lady dashwood made no reply for the moment. her face had grown very pale and her long, slim hand shook so that the rings on her fingers shimmered in the light.
"you had better tell me," she ventured to say at length. "i fancy i can guess, though i had not expected treachery as black as this. the man was----"
"sir vincent dashwood. oh, there is no mistake about it. i saw him as plainly as i see you at this moment. he had called at keppel terrace to threaten and bully. it seems that he had had all mrs. speed's savings. and he told her that if he could have that particular letter he would let her have as much money as she needed. she spoke then of the danger in which she stood in regard to her rent. she was going to see the agent of the property the same day. probably he would not wait any longer, and hence the sudden flitting in the night. what does it all mean, lady dashwood? why should this sir vincent want that letter? and how much longer are we all going to remain under the tyranny of that man?"
lady dashwood made no reply. there was a sound of voices close by, and in one of them mary recognised the querulous tones of mrs. speed.
"go and see her," mary said, "i will wait here. but please do not disclose my identity. and when you have finished, wait in the street for me. my business with mrs. speed will not take long. after that, i want you to come and see my new friends, i want you to know what manner of life i am living. there are other things that i shall want to know too, but they will keep for the present."
