James was not always allured by these problems, but he appreciated Mr. Trent's library and the comfortable, sufficiently cultured air of Mr. Trent's house. The manners that prevailed in it seemed to James very gracious and elegant—they were in any case a pleasant change from the manners of Mr. Clarkson. He also grew fond of Mrs. Trent, who was kind to him, and he fell in love with whatever her mother and her governess allowed him to see of Mary. She was sixteen when he saw her first, very pretty, very quiet, very easily made to blush. She would laugh delightfully, as if she could not help it, at the clever, witty things James said, and then stop suddenly, and droop her head over her embroidery, until James surpassed himself to make her look up again. They were engaged when she was eighteen, and at the end of another year he felt that he was in a position to marry her. Mr. and Mrs. Trent believed in girls marrying young, while they would still view facts in a romantic light and before they had become unable to adapt their dispositions to those of their husbands. James's only regret was that he could not present himself as the sole owner of his growing business, but old Clarkson persistently demanded not only three thousand pounds for what had only cost him fifteen hundred but an extra five hundred for the formula of his Ginger Cordial. Nobody wanted his cordial, but he would not sell one without the other. That he would sell at all was due to the fact that James was still bent on developing the business instead of considering all the returns as profit.
Neither James nor Mary was ever sure of the motives that led Mr. Trent to make his daughter part owner of the "Rule Britannia." But they believed that the idea must have occurred to him first on the day when he met Mr. Clarkson in James's office. The senior partner's clothes were particular greasy that day, he had been drinking a good deal of Ginger Cordial with a little rum in it to make it more satisfying, and he insisted on showing the visitor some picture postcards that he considered truly comic. Mr. Trent was a fastidious little man, and as an estate agent he had come into contact with some very good people. He asked James at the time whether he ever saw Mr. Clarkson outside the factory, and James's reply of "Not if I can help it!" may not have seemed sufficiently reassuring. At any rate when James came to sign his marriage settlements he found that Mr. Clarkson had sold his share in the firm and his rights over Clarkson's Ginger Cordial for £3,500, the said rights to revert to him if the said cordial were ever sold under any other name, and that Mrs. James Heyham would in future be entitled to half the profits of the business.
After his marriage James worked harder than ever. Old Mr. Trent made an excellent father-in-law; he never interfered but he was always ready to lend James a hundred or so when mineral-water provided some sudden opportunity for a rich man to become a little richer. James found considerable moral satisfaction in repaying these loans. Mrs. Trent was sympathetic, helpful when Trent and Laura were born, and an unfailing example to Mary of how a wife should cherish and revere a husband. The Heyhams lived frugally, for the firm was still absorbing every penny that could be spared. Bread companies and milk companies were beginning to make fortunes out of shops for the sale of tea and light refreshments. James did not see why a similar venture should not succeed with mineral water for its basis. The "Rule Britannia" was turned into a private company under the name of "Imperial Refreshments Limited." Mr. Trent lent James the necessary capital and three tea-shops were established.
The tea-shops flourished and their numbers grew. Before long they were the most important part of the business. They did not provide the market for mineral waters that James had expected, but, though it seemed a little perverse of them, they were steady customers for the Ginger Cordial. This proved to be a heartening mixture, unnecessarily complicated perhaps, but undoubtedly with an interest of its own. In summer it imparted life to our Imperial Fresh Fruit Drinks, in winter, hot, it made clients feel brisk but not aggressive. James hated the sight of it, and its smell gave him a headache.
Now he still worked, still looked for opportunities, still kept an open mind. But it was with the ease and amplitude of recognised success. Worries came and went, weather and government interfered with prices, this man or that turned out bad, neighbourhoods altered, and rivals had bright ideas. But at the bottom the Imperial was sound and everybody knew it. Its methods and its machinery alike were the most up-to-date in the trade. Its premises were spotless, the materials it put into its products were absolutely the best that could be done for the money. And James took trouble to please his customers' minds as well as their bodies. The tea-shops had begun in a somewhat gloomy fashion; the glass doors between their windows had been darkened with large bills of fare, the upper panes of the windows themselves had been pasted over with labels, and below a Japanese tea-set on one side and some fruit and a boiled ham on the other had been thrown into relief by red plush curtains. Inside there had been bamboo furniture, black screens with gold birds on them, and an occasional artificial palm. But as James rose in the world his taste improved. With the changes in Mary's furniture at home the decorative scheme of the tea-shops changed too, until now they were models of charm and sanitation. Their walls were white and their paint was black. Customers' hats and coats were massed in places where they did not destroy the effect. The tables had tops that were excellent imitations of green marble and as light as wood to shift—heavy wood. There were casement windows, and in winter the curtains and the crockery were cherry-coloured, in summer they were white with a border of green leaves. Trent thought this extravagant, but James preferred to consider the beneficial effect on the æsthetic natures of his customers. Besides it pays in the long run to be distinctive. Even the company's monogram had been carefully designed to add to the beauty of these favoured places. In short, they looked like shops where you might well have paid sixpence for your cup of tea, and they, were shops, as the posters by real artists reminded you, where you could get a superlative cup for twopence.
The Imperial manufactured their own china, under another name, and held the patent rights of the marble substitute. In the newer shops they were paving the floors with it, green and white. The fact that several other restaurants and tea-shops came innocently to him for their cups and saucers gave James a good deal of quiet pleasure, though he didn't attend to that side of the business himself. Nor, as the china factory was naturally not in London, would Mary be likely to have dealings with it, though they employed a good many girls. But he could assure her that go where she would, at any time, whether she was expected or not expected, she wouldn't find a corner of the Imperial's premises that she would be ashamed to see in her own house. James knew all about dirt, and he didn't believe in it.
[CHAPTER IV]
THE next thing to do, clearly, was to visit the tea-shops. James took Mary to the Oxford Circus depot himself. He was particularly proud of the Oxford Circus depot, because the girls wore frilled aprons and green dresses, and the washing-up was done by machines. Their gay attire was a recognition of the girls' good looks—they had been chosen by a manager who was a real lady and had an eye for a pretty face. She explained the thing to Mary:—At Oxford Circus their clientele was superior to most, and the girls came to them not so much to get married, as they came to shops where the customers were chiefly clerks, but because they liked the feeling of being in fashionable life. So they naturally appreciated the chance of looking more elegant than black woollen dresses permit. Only last year one of them had left to be a mannequin at Ormesby's. A gentleman from Ormesby's had been lunching at the depot and noticed her figure. And of course that had made the others more anxious than ever to be smart. It was very natural, and one couldn't be hard on them, especially as the ladies liked it so—they felt more as if they were in Bond Street, though the prices were the Imperial's usual prices—but she did have to say a word sometimes about high heels. Mrs. Heyham could see for herself that it wasn't safe carrying trays up and down those marble stairs with high heels. And then there was the tap, tap, tapping. Besides, high heels give so much trouble with feet, and they had to think of that, if Mrs. Heyham would forgive her seeming vulgar.
James nodded hastily at this, and changed the subject. He liked to think that the manager looked after the girls' health, but really their feet were not things that he cared to discuss. He preferred to contemplate their trim waists and the clever manipulation of their hair. That was another point in which they differed from the attendants in less stylish places, and Mrs. Creemer, her voice dropped in a manner suited to James's modesty, did not fail to mention it. It appeared that she had said only yesterday, "Miss Perkins, my dear, off with them pads! A simple side parting and a wave over the ear is what you want. Just a touch of black velvet, perhaps, as you're fair, but nothing showy!" She did her best to take only superior young ladies, but you couldn't expect them all to have taste like your own.
Mary would have felt a little overwhelmed by Mrs. Creemer if James had not taken her so coolly. James, of course, met women like this every day. He was their employer, he had business dealings with them, though she had never realised it. There was nothing about James to make her realise it. He lived in this atmosphere, but it did not touch him. Mary looked quickly, almost shyly, at her admirable husband; then she brought her thoughts back to the matter in hand. After all, the woman might be vulgar, but she was also praiseworthy; she seemed to have both a kind heart and sound common-sense. That was a great deal, and meanwhile Mary could sincerely praise the Oxford Circus tea and smile at the Miss Somerville who brought it.