So the child taught the woman, who was learning rapidly that age is not measured by the years one has lived; Miss Gibb was a century older than she was, though she was only just in her teens. Two visits were paid to Mr. Thompson, each time with a petticoat. Nora lived on the proceeds of those two petticoats for nearly another month, during which all the members of the establishment were putting their heads together in endeavours to find her something to do. The heart-sickness it meant for her; the consciousness of wasted effort; the sense of shame; the realization of her own futility; she had aged more during the time she had been in Swan Street than in all the preceding years. She had long ceased to confine herself to attempts to find a post as secretary, or as clerk. She tramped half over London in her desire to answer, in person, advertisements of all sorts and kinds, always in vain. Any one but a sheer ignoramus--Miss Gibb's ignorance outside her own sphere of action was colossal--would have told her at a glance that her efforts were foredoomed to failure. And why? The idea of such a one as she was occupying some of the situations for which she applied was in itself an absurdity; her appearance, her bearing, her manners, her dress, all were against her; perhaps her dress handicapped her worst of all. She did not know it; she thought her frocks were as simple as they could be; and so they were, in the sense of the great costumier, with the simplicity which is the hall-mark of the dressmaker's art. There was not one of them which had not cost her ten or fifteen guineas. The would-be employer saw this at once, and decided that the applicant was unsuited, which she was; so Nora was sent sorrowing away.
So with Nora the world went from bad to worse; until, as if to justify Miss Gibb's prophetic instinct, when things seemed really at their "tightest," help came to her from a quarter--as Angelina had foretold--from which she had least expected it.
CHAPTER XX
[KING SOLOMON]
John Hooper, Esquire, barrister-at-law, of Fountain Court, Inner Temple, was the employer of Mr. Eustace Gibb, who was the brother of Miss Gibb. It is not easy to define the relation which Mr. Gibb occupied with regard to Mr. Hooper. Mr. Hooper, although, presumably, learned in the law, had never held a brief in his life, and, to be frank, did not particularly want one; only his uncle worried. He had a small income of his own, and great expectations from his uncle; as his expenditure always exceeded his income, he regarded it as of the first importance that he should continue to stand in what he called his uncle's "good books," since he looked to that gentleman for sufficient financial assistance to enable him to what he termed "rub along." To please his uncle, who appeared to think he ought, very shortly, to be sitting on the woolsack, since he could get no briefs of his own he worked on those of other people; in other words he devilled for a gentleman who was always promising to do more work than, as he knew very well, he could do, and who, therefore, allowed Mr. Hooper, among others, to do some of the work which he was paid to do, but for which he paid Mr. Hooper nothing; there was not so much of this as Mr. Hooper chose to allow his uncle to imagine; still, from his point of view, there was emphatically enough.
What position Mr. Gibb filled in his chambers he himself occasionally wondered. To those whom he wished to impress with his legal standing he spoke of him as his clerk; to those whom it was impossible to impress, and they were many, as his office boy; while in his own circle of intimates, which was of rather a peculiar kind, he generally referred to him as King Solomon. Mr. Gibb generally referred to himself as Mr. Hooper's right-hand man.
"I'm his right hand man, that's what I am," he was wont to tell any one who showed interest in the subject; whereat the listener whistled, or did worse, and wondered, if he stopped at that. His duties appeared chiefly to consist in sitting, if Mr. Hooper was in his chambers, in a sort of lobby, which opened on to the staircase, which he called his office, and where he did nothing; or if Mr. Hooper was not in his chambers, he went out, as far out as he thought was discreet, and did nothing there. Sometimes when, as was not infrequently the case, both employer and employed had nothing to do, Mr. Hooper would summon Mr. Gibb into his inner room, and would talk to him--and Mr. Gibb would talk to him. It was the words of wisdom which Mr. Gibb would casually let drop in the course of these conversations which induced Mr. Hooper to allude to him, in the privacy of his own circle, as King Solomon; the barrister declared that it was worth his while to pay Mr. Gibb ten shillings a week, which he with difficulty did, merely on account of the benefit which he derived from hearing him talk.
It was during one of these conversations that Mr. Gibb touched on a subject which was foremost both in his heart and head. He had taken a strenuous part in the family endeavours to find for Miss Lindsay some employment by means of which she could at least provide herself with the wherewithal to keep herself alive. He had entered on the search with sanguine zest. Apart from any feeling which he might himself entertain for the lady he felt that his reputation was at stake. He had pledged himself to find for her at least half-a-dozen ways of earning a living in a ridiculously short space of time; and as yet he had not found her one; and she herself still searched. He was aware of the visits to Mr. Thompson; they troubled him nearly as much as they troubled Nora; he felt almost as if he was himself responsible for their continuation. He knew that any day another might have to be paid; the knowledge made him desperate. He had had, for some time, a vague intention of speaking to his employer on the matter; but he was aware that Mr. Hooper did not always take him seriously, and he was curiously unwilling to have Miss Lindsay made the subject of that gentleman's chaff. Yet the thought of that further impending visit pressed heavily on his mind; so that presently the barrister perceived that in his air there was something singular.
"You're not up to your usual mark, Mr. Gibb; those pearls of wisdom which I love to cherish as they drop from your lips don't seem dropping; stock run out?"
Mr. Gibb looked up at the ceiling, then down to Mr. Hooper.