Susan | Page 8

Now Susan was hungry, for it was past dinnertime, and she had
breakfasted early. She knew that Maria had brought sandwiches and
buns with her, but in her hasty retreat she had taken the bag, and had
evidently forgotten all about it. She looked hesitatingly at the biscuit
which her companion had broken in halves, and was now holding on
the paper in front of her. It was the French gentleman's only biscuit--
ought she to take it?
He guessed what was passing in her mind, and smiled kindly at her,
nodding his head.
"If you will eat with me I shall have better appetite," he said. "It is
perhaps a little dry--but after all, if one is hungry!--"
He shrugged his shoulders without finishing the sentence, and Susan

took the half-biscuit, finding when she began it that she was even
hungrier than she thought. She was still hungry when it was all gone,
and she felt sure the French gentleman could easily have eaten more.
She would have liked to offer him some of her sandwiches or a bun,
but there was still no sign of Maria.
So hour after hour went by, until, late in the afternoon, her companion
told her they were getting near Ramsgate.
"In one quarter of an hour we shall be at the pier. The journey will then
be over. The passage has been fine and tranquil."
But poor Maria had not found it so, for it was not until the steamer was
stopping that she appeared on deck looking very white, and staggering
about helplessly. It was fortunate, therefore, that Susan's new friend
was there, and that she herself could point out the luggage, for Maria
had now quite lost her head, and was of no use at all.
The French gentleman, however, was most active and kind in their
service, and did not leave them till they were safely in a cab with their
property. Even then Maria had forgotten the address, and it was Susan
who said:
"It is Belmont Cottage, Chatham Road."
"Ah!" exclaimed Susan's friend; "it is the house of Madame Enticknapp!
We shall then perhaps meet again, ma petite amie."
He put his feet quite close together and executed a graceful bow as the
cab drove away, with his hat pressed against his chest.
"What an old figure of fun!" was Maria's remark.
"I like him," said Susan. "He was very kind, and gave me half his
dinner."
Maria said no more, for she was still in a very depressed state from the
effects of the journey, and her head was "all of a swim," as she

expressed it. So Susan was left to her own thoughts; and as the cab
rattled along the road in front of the sea, she wondered anxiously which
of those tall houses with balconies was Mrs Enticknapp's. But presently
they turned up a side street, lost sight of the sea altogether, and drove
through a town, where the shops were being lighted up, and came at
last to a quiet road. The houses were not tall here like those facing the
sea, and were not built in terraces, but stood each alone with its own
name on its gate, and its own little garden in front, bordered with
tamarisk bushes. Susan felt sure that one of those would be called
Belmont Cottage, and she was right, for the cab stopped at last, and she
really had arrived at Aunt Enticknapp's house! It was just like the
others, except that it had an extra room built on at the side; the roof was
low, and the windows had small diamond-shaped panes in them. Susan
noticed, as they walked up the strip of garden to the door, that the
borders were edged with cockle shells and whelk shells, which she
thought very pretty but rather wasteful. She was, however, now
beginning to feel extremely tired, and hungry with the sea-air, and the
two together produced a dizziness which made it difficult to think of
anything else. She could not even feel frightened at the idea of seeing
Mrs Enticknapp and the Bahia girls, and they hardly seemed like real
people when she was actually in the room with them. She knew that
there was a tall old lady with black curls and a cap, who spoke to her
and kissed her, and two "grown-up" girls who came and knelt down in
front of her and unpinned her shawl, chattering all the time. She also
heard one of them say to the other: "Pretty?" and the answer, "No. She
only looks so after Sophia Jane."
Later on, after some supper, she became sleepier still and more giddy
and confused, so that she hardly knew that Maria was undressing her
and putting her to bed. When there, however,