He had left to Anthony the search for new premises. Anthony was still undecided when something unexpected happened. The younger Miss Warmington, after a brief illness, died. Mrs. Plumberry had nursed her, and at Anthony’s request consented to call at 15 Bruton Square and find out how the land lay. It would be the very thing. It had two large class-rooms built out into the garden. Mrs. Plumberry was a born diplomatist. She reported that Miss Warmington, now absolutely alone in the world, had cried a little on Mrs. Plumberry’s motherly shoulder; had confided to Mrs. Plumberry that the school had been going down for some time past; that she had neither the heart nor the means to continue it. Mrs. Plumberry’s advice to her had been that she should get rid of the remainder of her lease, if possible, and thus avoid liability regarding covenants for reparation. Miss Warmington had expressed the thankfulness with which she would do this, that is if a purchaser could be found; and Mrs. Plumberry, though not holding out much hope, had promised to look about her.
Thus it came to pass that once again Mrs. Strong’nth’arm and Anthony were ushered into the drawing-room of 15 Bruton Square and rested on its horse-hair-covered chairs. But this time Mrs. Strong’nth’arm sat well back; and it was Miss Warmington who, on entering, held out her hand. Mrs. Strong’nth’arm, imagining beforehand, had intended not to see, but second nature again was too strong. Miss Warmington, though old and feeble, was still impressive, and Mrs. Strong’nth’arm curtsied and apologized for intrusion.
Miss Warmington smiled as she shook hands with Anthony.
“You were a little boy when I saw you last,” she said, “and you sat with your leg tucked under you.”
“And he wouldn’t come to your school when you asked him to,” interposed Mrs. Strong’nth’arm. She had made up her mind to get that out.
Miss Warmington flushed. “I think he was very wise,” she said. “I hear quite wonderful accounts of him.” Anthony had closed the door and placed a chair for her. “And I see he has learned manners,” she added with another smile.
Anthony laughed. “I was very rude,” he admitted, “and you are a very kind lady to forgive me.”
The business, so far as Miss Warmington was concerned, was soon finished. She wondered afterwards why she had accepted Anthony’s offer without even putting up a fight. It was considerably less than the sum she had determined to stand out for. But on all points, save the main issue, he had yielded to her; and it had seemed to her at the time that she was getting her own way. They had kept up the fiction of the business being between Mrs. Strong’nth’arm and Miss Warmington, Anthony explaining always that it was his mother who was prepared to do so and so—his mother, alas! who was unable to do the other, Mrs. Strong’nth’arm confirming with a nod or a murmur.
Over a friendly cup of tea letters were exchanged then and there, thus enabling Mrs. Strong’nth’arm to dismiss all thought of other houses that had been offered her. Mrs. Strong’nth’arm undertook to pay Miss Warmington three hundred pounds and to take over Miss Warmington’s lease with all its covenants, together with all fixtures and such furniture as Miss Warmington would not require for her own small needs.