5
There was a large bunch of black grapes on the little table by the bedside and a book.
“Hullo you literary female” said Miriam seizing it ... Red Pottage ... a curious novelish name, difficult to understand. Miss Dear sat up, straight and brisk, blooming smiles. What an easy life. The light changing in the room and people bringing novels and grapes, smart new novels that people were reading.
“What did you do at lunch time dear?”
“Oh I had to go and see a female unexpectedly.”
“I found your note and thought perhaps you had called in at Baker Street.”
“At your Association, d’you mean? Oh my dear lady.”
Miriam shook her thoughts about, pushing back. “She owes money to almost every nurse in this house and seems to have given in in every way” and bringing forward “one of our very best nurses for five years.”
“Oh I went to see the woman in Queen Square this morning.”
“I know you did dear.” Miss Dear bridled in her secret way, averted, and preparing to speak. It was over. She did not seem to mind. “I liked her” said Miriam hastily, leaping across the gap, longing to know what had been done, beating out anywhere to rid her face of the lines of shame. She was sitting before a judge ... being looked through and through.... Noo, Tonalt, suggest a tow-pic....
“She’s a sweet woman” said Miss Dear patronisingly.
“She’s brought you some nice things” ... poverty was worse if you were not poor enough....
“Oh no dear. The curate brought these. He called twice this morning. You did me a good turn. He’s a real friend.”
“Oh—oh, I’m so glad.”
“Yes—he’s a nice little man. He was most dreadfully upset.”
“What can he do?”
“How do you mean dear?”
“Well in general?”
“He’s going to do everything dear. I’m not to worry.”
“How splendid!”
“He came in first thing and saw how things stood and came in again at the end of the morning with these things. He’s sending me some wine, from his own cellar.”
Miriam gazed, her thoughts tumbling incoherently.
“He was most dreadfully upset. He could not write his sermon. He kept thinking it might be one of his own sisters in the same sitawation. He couldn’t rest till he came back.”
Standing back ... all the time ... delicately preparing to speak ... presiding over them all ... over herself too....
“He’s a real friend.”
“Have you looked at the book?” There was nothing more to do.
“No dear. He said it had interested him very much. He reads them for his sermons you see” ... she put out her hand and touched the volume ... John’s books ... Henry is so interested in photography ... unknowing patronising respectful gestures.... “Poor little man. He was dreadfully upset.”
“We’d better read it.”
“What time are you coming dear?”
“Oh—well.”
“I’m to have my meals regular. Mr. Taunton has seen the landlady. I wish I could ask you to join me. But he’s been so generous. I mustn’t run expenses up you see dear.”
“Of course not. I’ll come in after supper. I’m not quite sure about to-night.”
“Well—I hope I shall see you on Saturday. I can give you tea.”
“I’m going away for the week-end. I’ve put it off and off. I must go this week.”
Miss Dear frowned. “Well dear, come in and see me on your way.”