Confidence in himself was shaken by information conveyed by the two passengers on the return journey. Having forgotten the exact whereabouts of his sister-in-law’s house they had gone into the new Tea Gardens, and their content and satisfaction with the treatment received made subject of conversation throughout the journey. The excellence of the watercress, the surprising freshness of the eggs, the admirable quality of the home-made jam—all these impressed them favourably, and they talked of arranging with friends a picnic on a large scale and without the inconvenience of heavy baskets. Mr. Woods, not being asked for an opinion, gave several; one was in favour of splitting the party up amongst the cottages. He declared this plan would encourage sociability and give an insight into country life. For almost the first time in his professional career Woods found himself told to mind his own business. He invented some compensation by speaking sharply to one of his men whom he charged with the offence of keeping hands in pockets.
The members of the home syndicate received such a quick succession of blows from the new Tea Gardens that they began to experience a kind of dazed resignation, and it became the duty of Mr. Woods to order them to awake. The automatic pianoforte was followed by engagement from town of two young nieces, who were not content with demure costume and long blue pinafore, but must needs, if you please, wear a rather attractive lace cap. After this came a large rocking-horse for the pleasure of children, or, failing children, the content of grown-ups who fancied equestrian exercise and wished to promote digestion. After this, a giant’s stride. After this, a skittle-alley which drew away of an evening many of the best and most regular customers from “The Running Stag.” After this, a lawn-tennis court, with rackets and balls provided without charge to those who had taken the shilling tea. It was in regard to the shilling tea that Woods’s sister-in-law, ignoring him, went direct to the vicar, from whom she received the disappointing information that the words “ad lib.” were not, in themselves, offensive, or calculated to undermine the morality of the village; he added some trenchant remarks concerning the duties of parents, which Jane assumed to refer to other ladies. Jane assured the vicar that she did all that was possible in the distribution of good counsel, and he remarked that it would make a useful change for her to vary the method by accepting it. So far as Mrs. Jarrett and Sundays were concerned, she and her nieces came to church in the mornings; they worked hard in the afternoon, and they rested in the evening. The vicar, admitting that he might be considered either very old-fashioned or very new-fashioned, declared this a good manner of spending the day, and gave a short account of Sundays in the early part of the seventeenth century. Woods, to whom this was reported, said, guardedly, that the events referred to occurred before he came to town.
The fly-master had, at this period, troubles of his own which decreased his interest in regard to the rivalry in the tea trade. The first news came from one of the nieces back from a visit to town on an occasion when Woods, at the foot of the hill, stepped down to walk and encourage his horse. The detached position which he had assumed since the beginning of the dispute had been modified because Jane’s daughter told one of his young men (and the young man told Mr. Woods) that Jane had announced an opinion to the effect that her brother-in-law found the money to finance the Tea Gardens, a suggestion so unfair and so preposterous that he declared his intention of allowing them to fight their battles without further assistance from him; henceforth, he proposed to take up a strictly impartial attitude. Consequently, he had recommenced the bringing of illustrated newspapers, and more than once he and Mrs. Jarrett discussed impending marriages in high life, conduct of the German Emperor, accidents caused by motor-cars, and other topical subjects. The niece, taking charge of the roll of journals, had distributed amongst the passengers some of Mrs. Jarrett’s neatly printed cards, had pointed out to them a notable church and conspicuous dwellings. Leaning over the side of the conveyance, she gave the information already referred to.
“You Londoners will have your lark,” he commented. “Your aunt’s just the same.”
“But I’m serious.”
“You don’t take me in. When you say you’re serious is jest when you’re trying to chaff.”
“They told me so up at Paddington, at any, rate,” she declared. “Friend of mine is in one of the head offices, and he assured me it was a positive fact.”
The two held further conversation as the horse, arrived on the level, jogged on again; she held the reins whilst he noted in his pocket-book some names and addresses which remained in her memory. Woods, greatly disturbed, had to be reminded by her, when the destination was reached, of the formality of collecting fares.
Within the space of a fortnight confirmation came. Down at the railway station small posters were exhibited, and quite a crowd assembled to read them and to chaff Woods on the disaster awaiting him, it being a notorious fact that nothing so much cheers A, B, C, and D as to discover that E is on the edge of calamity. On blank walls along the route the bills appeared. At Mrs. Jarrett’s Tea Gardens—this proved the most stinging smack—a new board was erected bearing the words: