The Paying Guest | Page 6

and I suppose I shall never
need to.'
'Do you wish to see much society?' inquired Mrs. Mumford, who was
thinking rapidly, 'or should you prefer a few really nice people? I'm
afraid I don't quite understand yet whether you want society of the
pleasure-seeking kind, or--'
She left the alternative vague. Miss Derrick again reflected for a
moment before abruptly declaring herself.
'I feel sure that your friends are the kind I want to know. At all events, I

should like to try. The great thing is to get away from home and see
how things look.'
They laughed together. Emmeline, after a little more talk, offered to
take her visitor over the house, and Miss Derrick had loud praise for
everything she saw.
'What I like about you,' she exclaimed of a sudden, as they stood
looking from a bedroom window on to the garden, 'is that you don't put
on any--you know what I mean. People seem to me to be generally
either low and ignorant, or so high and mighty there's no getting on
with them at all. You're just what I wanted to find. Now I must go and
send mother to see you.'
Emmeline protested against this awkward proceeding. Why should not
both come together and have a cup of tea? If it were desired, Miss
Derrick could step into the garden whilst her mother said whatever she
wished to say. The girl assented, and in excellent spirits betook herself
to the railway station. Emmeline waited something less than a quarter
of an hour; then a hansom drove up, and Mrs. Higgins, after a
deliberate surveyal of the house front, followed her daughter up the
pathway.
The first sight of the portly lady made the situation clearer to Mrs.
Mumford. Louise Derrick represented a certain stage of civilisation, a
degree of conscious striving for better things; Mrs. Higgins was
prosperous and self-satisfied vulgarity. Of a complexion much lighter
than the girl's, she still possessed a coarse comeliness, which pointed
back to the dairymaid type of damsel. Her features revealed at the same
time a kindly nature and an irascible tendency. Monstrously
overdressed, and weighted with costly gewgaws, she came forward
panting and perspiring, and, before paying any heed to her hostess,
closely surveyed the room.
'Mrs. Mumford,' said the girl, 'this is my mother. Mother, this is Mrs.
Mumford. And now, please, let me go somewhere while you have your
talk.'

'Yes, that'll be best, that'll be best,' exclaimed Mrs. Higgins. 'Dear, 'ow
'ot it is! Run out into the garden, Louise. Nice little 'ouse, Mrs.
Mumford. And Louise seems quite taken with you. She doesn't take to
people very easy, either. Of course, you can give satisfactory references?
I like to do things in a business-like way. I understand your 'usband is
in the City; shouldn't wonder if he knows some of Mr. 'Iggins's friends.
Yes, I will take a cup, if you please. I've just had one at the station, but
it's such thirsty weather. And what do you think of Louise? Because I'd
very much rather you said plainly if you don't think you could get on.'
'But, indeed, I fancy we could, Mrs. Higgins.'
'Well, I'm sure I'm very glad of it. It isn't everybody can get on with
Louise. I dessay she's told you a good deal about me and her stepfather.
I don't think she's any reason to complain of the treatment--'
'She said you were both very kind to her,' interposed the hostess.
'I'm sure we try to be, and Mr. 'Iggins, he doesn't mind what he gives
her. A five-pound note, if you'll believe me, is no more than a sixpence
to him when he gives her presents. You see, Mrs. Rumford--no,
Mumford, isn't it?--I was first married very young--scarcely eighteen, I
was; and Mr. Derrick died on our wedding-day, two years after. Then
came Mr. 'Iggins. Of course I waited a proper time. And one thing I can
say, that no woman was ever 'appier with two 'usbands than I've been.
I've two sons growing up, hearty boys as ever you saw. If it wasn't for
this trouble with Louise--' She stopped to wipe her face. 'I dessay she's
told you that Mr. 'Iggins, who was a widower when I met him, has a
daughter of his first marriage--her poor mother died at the birth, and
she's older than Louise. I don't mind telling you, Mrs. Mumford, she's
close upon six-and-twenty, and nothing like so good-looking as Louise,
neither. Mr. 'Iggins, he's kindness itself; but when it comes to
differences between his daughter and my daughter, well, it isn't in
nature he shouldn't favour his own. There's more be'ind, but I dessay
you can guess, and I won't trouble you with things that don't concern
you. And