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."
She was a little startled, as she had not noticed him in the shadow immediately under the lamp. But she soon rallied, and answered, "You are pertinacious, Cousin Hector. But it is quite in vain."
"Joan dearest, hearken to what I have to say. As you will not come to me, I am going to you."
"What do you mean?"
"I intend following your advice and entering the works.'
"You are not in earnest?"
"I am. You shall hear where I have been, and what I have done. I took a trap at the Griffin and drove out to the Fennings' place. I have seen the old gentleman. I like him. He is straightforward and honest. I told him plainly what I was, what I wanted, and why I desired it."
"Well?"
"He was amused at first—thought I was trifling; but I spoke out decidedly. And, Joan—I used your name, and he smiled, and said he had not forgotten you. He let me understand that you had been serviceable to him in giving him a glimpse into the character of a certain manager he had."
"Yes, Mr. Mangin."
"Who might possibly have become his son-in-law, but who is now not only very certainly not to be taken into the family, but who will be turned out of his management."
"From what I know—that is, have heard—it is as well that it should be so."
"Mr. Fenning has made inquiries, and is satisfied that this man Mangin is not a suitable person to be employed by him. He first entertained a suspicion to this effect from something he heard through you."
"Well, never mind Mr. Mangin. How about yourself?"
"Joan, I have been considering a good deal what you said. I daresay that when I dished up your opinions before Mr. Fenning, I made a hash of them. However, he did not object. He is willing to let me make a trial. I do not think he has much faith in me—but he knows about you, Joan. If his inquiries have served to shake his confidence in Mangin, they have caused him to form a very high opinion of you—and I really believe he would do anything you recommended or asked."
"You are going into our bank?"
"Yes, Joan."
"But—it cannot be. It must not be, Hector. You have duties that hold you to Pendabury."
"They shall not be neglected."
"Indeed, my lengthy diatribe the other day was not levelled against you. Indeed no!"
"Joan, I want to know both what the artisan is and what are his merits and what his demerits. His merits will serve to deepen and strengthen my character, at the same time that my knowledge of men grows and my sympathies expand. My culture may possibly help in the rectification of some of his twists and the making up of some of his deficiencies. Anyhow, I feel that I must know him, and get him to know me. The masses, I daresay, think that we of the classes are a set of pampered, enervated, dissolute, and heartless fools. I daresay it will do the man of the masses some good to look me eye to eye, and see that one has a heart, courage, and does not live only for the pleasures that perish. He who has seen you, knows what a lady is and can be wherever placed; and let him know that an English gentleman can be a gentleman everywhere and among all kinds of men. I do not doubt that, when we come to know each other intimately, we shall acquire a respect and a liking for each other. We shall melt into one another imperceptibly, sloughing off what is feeble and ephemeral and absurd, and intensifying every element that is good. See, Joan! I talk almost like you."
"Hector, in your case this will not do."
"Why not?"
"You have your duties at Pendabury."
"You have said that already."
"My dear father," said Joan—"I regret to say it, but you have probably by this time discovered the fact—neglected repairs in the farms and cottages. At the time I did not understand his indifference. It was occasioned by this—that he had a life-interest only in the estate; and as the place was to pass away from his children after his death, he really did not care to put himself to the expense of making the farmhouses sound and the cottages habitable. He cut down timber, but did no planting. A good deal of the land cries out to be drained, and is overgrown with rushes. Now you come into a wide stretch of property covered with ruins. The farmhouses and appurtenances must be rebuilt or repaired, or the farmer will quit. The labourers must be given habitations comfortable and sufficiently roomy to enable them to rear families in decency. This, then, must claim your attention. The land must be looked to, and drainage must be taken in hand on a systematic and extensive scale. Therefore I say, your place is at Pendabury."
"That need not engage all my time. Come and help me."
"What! to build farmhouses and cottages, drain and plant and hedge? No."
"Joan, I am well aware of the state of the property. It will consume nearly all the income for ten years to do justice to the place. I have gone over it carefully with Shand. I am determined to reserve to myself for the maintenance of Pendabury House only one-third of the rental, and two-thirds shall go in repairs and reconstructions, in drainage and planting and enclosing, till the entire property is in thorough order. I have settled everything with Shand and the agent. Now this will not take up all my time. I have a scheme in my head. On all sides I am informed that you are common property. Fennings' bank and Fennings' Row—pretty nearly everyone I come across, all call you Our Joan. You are democrats here, all of you, and I cannot act other than constitutionally, and in accordance with the popular will. Consequently, I shall have to lay my motion in order before your friends. Here we are at No. 16."
So he and Joan entered the corner house. Nearly all the girls were there.
It had got wind that a gentleman—or, as they called him, a chap—had been there with purpose to carry off Joan, and all the girls who had the entrée flocked to it. In addition, Mr. Myatt had been called in, whose capacity for butting at a door might render his assistance valuable, if it were necessary to eject Hector Beaudessart by violence. Mr. Skrimager had also been summoned, whilst passing down the street. There were present Caroline Grosser, Essie Gott, Lena Battersby, whose apprentice Joan was, and who had been summoned in the emergency, Bessie Callear, Margaret Pointon, and the rest.
As Joan entered along with Hector, she saw that all were in a condition of the liveliest excitement, and she caught Polly saying aside, indicating Hector—
"That's him."
"I like his cheek!" muttered Bessie.
"P'r'aps you'd like to kiss it," hinted Tom, nudging the girl.
"Girls," said Hector, "I find that Joan Frobisher is an obstinate girl. This is no new discovery, I have known it for some time; but I find that her will is just about as hard as nails, and nothing I can say will bend it. I want you to give consent to a proposal I have to make, and if it meets with your approbation, I will ask you to come to my assistance and make her flexible. So I solicit your favour."
"And mine too, I suppose?" threw in Tom.
"Certainly yours. You have a claim on her," said Hector.
"And I should like a word as well," observed Mr. Myatt. "For when I gets upon my political economy vein, I'm inclined to be rampageous, and having her next door keeps me off it."
"Assuredly!" said Hector.
"And I," pleaded Mrs. Mardentle, "for if she's took away I shall go into the canal. There's no other place for me."
"By all means," said Hector. "And now, ladies and gentlemen all, I must tell you that it is my fondest, most fervent desire, to convert your Joan into my Joan."
Murmurs of disapproval, and threatening demonstration from Bessie Callear.
Polly Myatt nudged her father, to rouse him to a sense of the duty that might be imposed upon him, and he nodded his bald head knowingly.
"But," added Hector, "she will not hear of it. She says she loves you all too dearly to bear to be torn away. She belongs too intimately to you."
"She do."
"And she has refused me, not once only, but once and again. She will not leave you."
"She's a thunderin' brick," said Caroline.
"I always said she was a good un'. I said it the fust time as I clapped eye on her," said Polly.
"I said it before you ever see'd her—when she ate 'arf my stick-jaw," said the boy.
"Now do not think," proceeded Hector, "that I harbour any design of taking Joan wholly away from you. I should be doing you and her a wrong if I did it—but I cannot. She would not hear of such a proceeding. As I said, I have a proposal to make that can only be carried into effect with your consent."
"Name it!" said Mr. Skrimager.
"I have," continued Hector, "a comfortable house in the country, and I want Joan to keep it for me."
Mr. Myatt now began to polish his head and prepare for action, nudged thereto by Polly.
"But there is nothing to be done there," Hector went on, "and neither she nor I can be idle. So what I say is: Will you let me have her away for half the year, that is to say the summer months, and for the other half, the winter months, she and I will be here with you. I am going into the bank, and shall work there and not be an idle loafer. What say you to that?"
The girls looked at one another, and Mr. Myatt bowed his ear to hear what Polly had to say on the matter, as well as to intimate his readiness to butt at Hector and project him into the street if this proposal did not commend itself to his daughter's views. Polly spoke out—
"As chaps go," she said, "take him all in all, he ain't so much amiss. I've seen wusser."
"And I suppose," observed Caroline, "she's sure to marry some day. We all does, or hopes to."
"It's a law of natur'," said Mr. Myatt; "you can't go agin' natur'."
"He speaks fair," said Bessie. "But how are we to know he'll keep to his word? If we could be sure of that, I would say let her have him."
"And I," interjected Tom. "I will consent if I may act as father, and give her away."
"And I," said Joan, "only on condition that Hector binds himself, as I bind myself to you all, dearest friends, that this arrangement shall be conscientiously observed, not for one year, but for five."
"My hand to it," said Hector.
"When the five years are ended, the whole arrangement shall be gone into together, and fresh order taken if need be," said Joan.
"On that condition we give you our Joan," said the girls.
"Ditto," added Tom.