“Miss Thacker! Don’t know her from Adam. Who in the world is Miss Thacker?”
“Oh—er—er—Wait a moment and I’ll remember!” cried Agatha, ruffling her hair in reflection. “I’ve heard the name, I’m sure—I know! She’s the creature who’s come to Willow Cottage. She called once before, and mother said she could not for the life of her decide whether she was quite mad, or only three-quarters. What can she want?”
“Have to go and see, I suppose. Or stay, I’ll bring her in here, to have some tea, and then you can help me to entertain her; but whatever you do, don’t laugh! It’s awfully bad form to make fun of a visitor.” And Lilias left the room, to return followed by a tall female figure, which certainly approached perilously near the grotesque in appearance.
An old-fashioned poke bonnet and a gauze veil shaded a solemn white face, braids of red hair fell over the cheeks, horn-rimmed spectacles covered the eyes, while the absence of two front teeth gave a singularly blank and unpleasant expression to the mouth. A merino shawl was folded across the shoulders, and a venerable silk skirt dripped with rain upon the carpet. An extraordinary-looking figure indeed; and it would appear that eccentricity was not confined to appearance only, for the stranger returned the girls’ salutations with wriggles of the body, and began at once to talk in a soft guttural voice, running her words together without any stops, and at such express train speed that every now and then she was obliged to stop short, and give a deep gasp of exhaustion.
“S–S–Sorry your mother is from mome me dears quite counted on finding her rat ome. Said to myself at lunch must go and see Mrs Rendell s’afternoon such a kind woman full of sympathy for rothers! Hurried out and thought as had come so far might come in and see Miss Rendell as servant said at tome and disengaged!”
The big mouth opened in a gasp for breath, which was heard throughout the room, and Lilias stammered out a dismayed assent.
“Certainly—of course. So glad you did. If I can do anything I shall be most pleased—”
“Of course, my dear. Your mother’s daughter. Knew it by your face. Not tany tea, thank you, bad for digestion enjoyed bad health for many years and can only stay a minute. Called at four rouses already to-day with no result. Breaks your rart to see the callous sardness of the human race, every luxury and ease themselves and cold as sice to others. Wouldn’t believe it unless you were present to see rebuffs si get. Ladies not a mile from this souse—could mention names but won’t—pay pounds and pounds for gloves and dats and not talf-a-crown to spare for crying need, but said to myself all day, Mrs Rendell will help! I’ll get ta welcome there!”
“Oh yes, I’m sure mother would be pleased,” stammered Lilias, more and more puzzled to understand the drift of the strange woman’s remarks. From the farther end of the room a little squeaky sound was heard, elaborately turned into a cough. Lilias grew hot with embarrassment, and Miss Thacker peered suspiciously over her spectacles as she produced a circular from her satchel and handed it over for inspection. It bore the heading “Waybourne Home for Incurables,” and set forth a plea for help with which the girl was already familiar. She read it over, however, once and yet again, puzzling her head meantime as to what to do next. To refuse to give a donation was to class one’s self at once among those whose “callous sardness” had been denounced, and Lilias’s love of appreciation was so intense, that even before this unlovely stranger she could not bear to appear in an unfavourable light. She determined to delay the evil moment, and leave to her mother the unpleasant task of refusal; for it seemed in the last degree unlikely that Mrs Rendell would desire to supplement her ordinary subscription by a gift to an unauthorised collector.
“I am very sorry you should have had your walk in the rain,” she said sweetly, “but, of course, in mother’s absence I can make no promises. She will be home the day after to-morrow, if you could call again to see her.”