I certainly had no idea of minding being seen with her, as the worst thing that could happen would be that my friends might think me rather eccentric in my choice of society, but as I was doing nothing wrong, their opinion troubled me little.
Belinda Ann had evidently got herself up with a special eye to my company. A well-worn but neat black serge skirt was surmounted by the inevitable blouse, evidently picked up cheap at some second-hand clothes shop. It had once been handsome, being of shot pink and blue glacé silk trimmed lavishly with iridescent trimming and quantities of cheap lace, but now most of its glories had departed, and personally I should have preferred their absence altogether, but still it suited her in a bizarre, picturesque way, although it attracted more attention than was quite desirable. It was surmounted by her old black straw hat, from which, however, she had removed the dirty white flowers.
She looked better in her workaday dress and apron, but it would be difficult to tell her so, and I was still busy revolving plans in my mind for her education in taste, when we arrived in Piccadilly, and in the wild excitement of “boarding” the Blackwall omnibus, my thoughts were reduced to chaos. Belinda Ann, with rare delicacy, climbed on the top, leaving me to sit inside alone, so I had plenty of leisure for thinking during the long hot drive.
Oh, it was long and it was hot! Many times during our progress I thought regretfully of my favourite window-seat at home, with its usual accompaniments of an interesting book or a little languid work.
I was in for it now, however, as I realised more fully when the omnibus stopped and we got out. Belinda Ann indicated another very small specimen of the same vehicle round which a surging crowd was having a sort of free fight, at sight of which I basely deserted my colours.
“Let’s take a cab, Belinda!” I suggested weakly, but this proved easier said than done. Not a single cab was to be had for love or money, and it really looked as if we should get no further.
At last a small but sympathetic bystander volunteered the information that the omnibus yard was not far off, and if we went there we should have the first choice. Cheered by this idea we hastened thither, and though our joy was rather damped by finding that the same happy thought had struck about twenty other people, we dashed recklessly into the thick of the fray, and after a breathless struggle, landed in a triumphant heap on the floor inside. Someone trod on my skirt and nearly tore it off, but Belinda Ann did such noble execution with her sharp elbows and sharper tongue that this was my only mishap, and we subsided into seats with just elation.
Belinda Ann especially was so pleased at our success that it made her unusually “chirpy,” which state of mind led up to a regrettable incident. A gentleman in corduroy mounting to the roof discovered that his “young lydy” was seated inside the omnibus. Pausing therefore half-way up the staircase, regardless of the impatient throng behind him, he poked his head under the lamp and tried to persuade her to come outside with him. The lady was coy and the gentleman urgent, which somewhat prolonged matters, until at last a West-Ender immediately behind the impatient lover lost his temper and observed irritably—
“Now then, my good fellow, don’t keep us here all day! If you’re going up, get on!”
The “good fellow” turned on him at once, his “young lydy” of course sided with her fiancé, and Belinda Ann stuck loyally to her class by remarking in her peculiarly penetrating voice—