"He was like a lot of the others. Not really bad, you understand, but just rather easily led; and because he thought everything was going against him, he became reckless. And he belonged to the old days when once in prison meant always in prison, and no one ever thought that a man who had made a single blunder could be reformed. I often used to think," declared Mrs. Mills, "that something ought to be done, but of course I had my business to look after."
"You found time to look after me, aunt."
"If you could realize," argued the other earnestly, "what a dear baby you was then, you wouldn't trouble to give me any credit for that." She hesitated. "What I've always hoped," lowering her voice, "that some day I might see another one like you."
"Madame's case," said Gertie, "is a warning to me. I want the right kind of husband, or none at all!"
From Clarence Mills, calling at Praed Street, came news that Lady Douglass had been instructed to go abroad so soon as she became well enough to endure the journey; to his great concern, Miss Loriner was instructed to accompany her. Gertie asked for further information, and Clarence replied that Henry Douglass had not given up the office in Old Quebec Street; indeed, he recently entered a competition for plans of a provincial art gallery, and his portrait was in some journal consequent on the decision of the judges. Gertie presumed that Clarence did not happen to have this with him; Clarence found the cutting in his letter-case and presented it. (Later, it was mounted carefully and placed in a small frame, and given a position upon her dressing-table.) Clarence's book was out, and he had just seen a copy at Paddington, with a card bearing the words, "Tremendously Thrilling."
On another point, Clarence was able to announce that Henry had held something like a court-martial at Ewelme, with all concerned present. Jim Langham gave evidence; and Lady Douglass, when her turn came, suggested the key had been placed in her bag by Miss Loriner. Upon which Miss Loriner declared it would be impossible, in view of this remark, to give her company to Beaulieu; and Lady Douglass, without any further hesitation, confessed the truth, urging, in excuse, that it was but natural in this world to look after oneself, adding a caution to the effect that anything in the nature of a scene would now mar the work of the London specialist. Henry's mother, it appeared, was in favour of taking the risk.
"I don't want to see her punished," remarked Gertie. "So long as he knows I was not to blame, I'm perfectly satisfied."
Clarence had private audience with Mrs. Mills before going, and, as a result, Sarah, the temporary assistant at the party, came to Praed Street daily; Mrs. Mills admitted that, seeing her niece frequently, any want of colour might not be so apparent to her as to any one who saw the girl less often. Sarah's objections to living in were easy to meet; the only other provision was that liberty should be given if her services were required for "Puss in Boots" during the Christmas period. An excellent worker, Sarah left nothing to be done at the end of the day, and Gertie, arriving home after the stress of business at Great Titchfield Street, was able to rest in the parlour, or give assistance in the shop.
She was making out orders for Christmas cards at the newspaper counter one night (the popular remark of customers at this period was "Ain't the evenings drawing in something awful!") when a man rushed in and looked around in a dazed, frightened manner. He muttered indistinctly some explanation, and was going off, when Gertie called to him.
"Thought it was a bar," he said confusedly. "My mistake."