The Nether Millstone

by Fred M. White

"Now listen to me," she said in clear, incisive tones. "As a landlady of experience in such matters you must know that it is almost impossible for Miss Colam and myself to obtain other lodgings without our boxes and things. Last night we slept out of doors because we had nowhere to go. You think that because you live so far away from Keppel Terrace you can do as you like. If I go from here now without our belongings I shall at once see the agent of the Keppel Terrace property and tell him where you are to be found. I can easily get the address of the agent from the people next door to your last house. I don't know much about the law, but you can be punished for this kind of thing, I feel quite certain. Now what are you going to do?"

The battle was over almost as soon as it had begun. The woman lost her threatening air and her face became pleading. The easy tears fell from her cheeks. "I'm sure I don't want to do anything wrong," she said, "only you don't know all the trouble and anxiety that I've been put to. When I came to London first I had money in the bank and a good house of furniture, very different from the miserable sticks I have about me now. I was doing well. Oh, you think you know what trouble is and misery, but wait till you see the son you have loved and slaved for grow up to be a curse and a blight to you; I sacrificed everything for that boy and he has ruined me. He gets money from everybody, he has had all mine, and I go on giving him more. He never comes near me unless he wants something. If you knew everything, you would be sorry for me."

Mary made no reply for the moment. She was piecing the puzzle rapidly together in her mind. She was wondering what the connection was between the erring son and the man who called himself Sir Vincent Dashwood. She would have asked a question or two, but it did not seem discreet to do so at this moment.

"At present I need all my sympathy for Miss Colam and myself," Mary said coldly. "You will be good enough to find our boxes. There is a desk of mine that I need, a little desk in a leather case. I shall be glad to know that it is safe."

"I think I saw it a little while ago," Mrs. Speed said eagerly. She seemed quite anxious to make amends now. "I fancy it was in one of the bedrooms. I hope you will believe me, miss when I tell you that I had clean forgotten all about you two young ladies. You see, I had to get away at a moment's notice. There was the house to find and the van to arrange for. One way and another I was fairly worked off my feet. If you'll come along with me now, I'll see what I can do for you. There's a great pile of boxes upstairs."

Most of the missing boxes were identified at last, but they were more or less buried under a great heap of things. Mary gave a sigh of relief to find that the precious writing-case was intact and the lock unbroken. And there was a box of hers on the top of the pile, and in that she knew was all that she would require for a day or two. If she could get that away she would be able to supply Connie with what was necessary in the way of linen. And it would be as well to leave the rest until she had procured fresh lodgings.

"Get your woman to call a cab," she said, "I'll take this box with me and the others can remain till we are ready for them. Directly we have somewhere to go I will send you a telegram with the address, and you will give our belongings to one of the carriers."

"You may depend on that, miss," Mrs. Speed said eagerly, "I'm sorry this happened, I am indeed. If I had only thought of it I would have given you a hint before. Now I'll go and see if I can get a cab for you."

The cab was procured at length and the precious box hoisted on the top. Lady Dashwood was patiently waiting at the end of the road. The cab pulled up, and Mary hailed her friend eagerly. A great weight had fallen from her mind, she could see the way clear for the future now. If misfortune dogged her, she had made up her mind to go back to the dower house. But now she was spared that blow to her pride.

She wondered, with a tender smile on her lips, if Ralph Darnley would call this the proper kind of pride. In her mind Mary decided that he would. It would be possible now to arrange to stay for the present under the same roof with Grace Cameron. Then Mary remembered with dismay that her ready cash had been locked up in a box, and that the box in question was not on the top of the cab. Not that she was afraid of anything happening to the money; still, money was urgently needed.