BUT RETURNED
Three days later Hector Beaudessart was again at No. 16
Fennings' Row. He went there after work hours had concluded, in
the expectation of finding Joan at home. She was, however, out, but Polly Myatt was in the house, so also was Cissie.
Tom Treddlehoyle was mending. He was sufficiently improved to
be transferred for a few hours downstairs, and now, muffled in
blankets, he reclined in an easy-chair by the fire.
His rags had been burnt, and Joan had actually gone into the
town to buy a new suit for him. She was able, pretty accurately, to judge his size, and allow somewhat for growth. Probably she would be suffered by the shopman to take home with her two or three sets of garments on approval.
The little fellow was ivory white and clean. His hair had been
combed and brushed. Much of his coarseness had gone with the
grime, and the wan face was not deficient in delicacy of feature, and showed capacity for refinement under proper training. The roguish eyes had not lost their twinkle and the flexible lips their curl for a laugh.
The lamp was alight when Hector entered, and the fire was
burning with a ruddy glow, suffusing the little room with light, colour, and warmth.
Polly looked the young man over as he entered, with an
unfriendly expression. She stood in front of him with arms
akimbo, and said—
"You want our Joan, I suppose?"
"Yes, frankly, I do."
"Then you ain't a-going to get her," said Polly.
"You've been here three or four times, and you've been seen
flutterin' about in the neighbourhood, and we don't approve of
hangers-on. We don't intend to let her go. We want to keep her
here, and she belongs by rights to us."
"She's my Joan," threw in the boy from his blankets. "You've
come too late, young cove. I took 'er on from the fust."
"Come here, Cissie," said Polly, throwing open the door into
the back kitchen, "and you, Mrs. Mardentle, as well. You come and
cast your eye over this here young man. He's come after our Joan. I'm sneeped wi' him. He may want her, but he shan't have her."
"We can't do wi'out her," said Cissie.
"You have a mind to carry her off," said the woman with
potters' rot, whose name was Mardentle. "If you do manage it, then there'll be no place left for me but the canal."
Then in came Caroline Grosser.
"Carrie," said Polly Myatt, "here's a fine courtier come to
take away our Joan. There is a lady 'as been and carried off
Sibyll in a cab. She's not such a terrible loss; we shan't cry
our eyes out for the want of her. But it's another matter
altogether with our Joan."
"I'll blacken his peepers," said Carrie, "if he do but name
it."
"There be a lot of our girls coming in by and by," said Polly, "and, bless my bones! if you don't partic'lar feel flush of cash and value the suit you're in—not to say your own self behind it—you won't let 'em get an inkling as to what is in your mind. Now," pursued Polly, "that coat of yourn. I don't suppose it cost you a penny under eighteen shillings, and as to them trousers, I've seen the like of they, hung up outside Moses Solomon's clothing shop, with a ticket on 'em, 'Our Prime Pants—Fourteen and Eleven.' That makes thirty-two and eleven. If you don't want to be resuited, you'll keep out of the way of our girls, when they know you're wanting to walk off with our Joan." Polly strode up and down the room, tossing her red head. "What 'ud No. 16 be without her? What 'ud Fennings' Row, not to name the other side of the street? What 'ud become of father? He'd be politicianing again at the Blue Boar, and mother'd be lively wi' her tongue. It's no good your thinking of it, young chap! We 'ave all to be consulted in the disposing of her, for she's Our Joan."
"Well," said Hector, laughing, "I am not brave enough to
encounter a regiment of Staffordshire Amazons—I shall
decamp."
Hector did leave the house, but walked to the head of the
street and waited there for Joan. He had no intention of being
driven off the field without an effort to obtain a foothold.
He had not long to tarry before he saw her coming along with
springing tread from the town. The gas-lamp threw its light full
on her as she approached, and he saw that she carried a
bundle.
"Cousin Joan!" said he, stepping forward, "I have come
back."