BRITISH MYSTERIES - Fergus Hume Collection: 21 Thriller Novels in One Volume. Fergus Hume

dinner tonight,’ she said, timidly, to Mrs Pulchop.

      ‘And a wonder it is, my sweet angel,’ said that lady, indignantly, rising and glancing at the pretty girl, now so pale and sad-looking, ‘it’s once in a blue moon as he comes ‘ome, a—leaving you to mope at home like a broken-hearted kitten in a coal box. Ah, if he only had a liver, that would teach him manners.’

      Groans of assent from the Misses Pulchops, who both had livers and were always fighting with them.

      ‘And what, my neglected cherub,’ asked Mrs Pulchop, going to a looking-glass which always hung in the kitchen, for the three to examine their tongues in, ‘what shall I give you for dinner?’

      Kitty suggested a fowl, macaroni cheese, and fruit for dessert, which bill of fare had such an effect on the family that they all groaned in unison.

      ‘Macaroni cheese,’ growled Topsy, speaking from the very depth of the cork soles she wore to keep her feet dry; ‘there’s nothing more bilious. I couldn’t look at it.’

      ‘Ah,’ observed Mrs Pulchop, ‘you’re only a weak gal, and men is that obstinate they’d swaller bricks like ostriges sooner nor give in as it hurt ‘em. You shall ‘ave a nice dinner, Mrs Vanloops, tho’ I can’t deny but what it ull be bilious.’

      Thus warned, Kitty retired into her own room and made herself nice for Gaston to look on when he came.

      Poor thing, it was so rarely now that he came home to dinner, that a visit from him was regarded by her in the light of a treat. She dressed herself in a pretty white dress and tied a blue sash round her waist, so that she might look the same to him as when he first saw her. But her face was now worn and white, and as she looked at her pallor in the glass she wished she had some rouge to bring a touch of colour to her cheeks. She tried to smile in her own merry way at the wan reflection she beheld, but the effort was a failure, and she burst into tears.

      At six o’clock everything was ready for dinner, and having seen that all was in good order, Kitty walked outside to watch for Gaston.

      There was a faint, warm, light outside, and the sky was of a pale opaline tint, while the breeze blowing across the garden brought the perfume of the flowers to her, putting Kitty in mind of Mrs Villiers’ garden at Ballarat. Oh, those innocent days! would they never come again? Alas! she knew that they would not—the subtle feeling of youth had left her for ever; and this girl, leaning up against the house with her golden head resting on her arm, knew that the change had come over her which turns all from youth to age.

      Suddenly she heard the rattle of wheels, and rousing herself from her reverie, she saw a hansom cab at the gate, and M. Vandeloup standing on the pavement paying the driver. She also heard her lover tell the cabman to call for him at eight o’clock, and her heart sank within her as she thought that he would be gone again in two hours. The cab drove off, and she stood cold and silent on the verandah waiting for Gaston, who sauntered slowly up the walk with one hand in the pocket of his trousers. He was in evening dress, and the night being warm he did not wear an overcoat, so looked tall and slim in his dark clothes as he came up the path swinging his cane gaily to and fro.

      ‘Well, Bebe,’ he said, brightly, as he bent down and kissed her, ‘here I am, you see; I hope you’ve got a nice dinner for me?’

      ‘Oh, yes,’ answered Kitty, trying to smile, and walking before him into the house; ‘I told Mrs Pulchop, and she has made special preparations.’

      ‘How is that walking hospital?’ asked Vandeloup, carelessly taking off his hat; ‘I suppose she is ill as usual.’

      ‘So she says,’ replied Kitty, with a laugh, as he put his arm in hers and walked into the room; ‘she is always ill.’

      ‘Why, Bebe, how charming you look tonight,’ said Vandeloup, holding her at arm’s length; ‘quite like your old self.’

      And indeed she looked very pretty, for the excitement of seeing him had brightened her eyes and flushed her cheeks, and standing in the warm light of the lamp, with her golden hair floating round her head, she looked like a lovely picture.

      ‘You are not going away very soon?’ she whispered to Gaston, coming close to him, and putting her hand on his shoulder; ‘I see so little of you now.’

      ‘My dear child, I can’t help it,’ he said, carelessly removing her hand and walking over to the dinner table; ‘I have an engagement in town tonight.’

      ‘Ah, you no longer care for me,’ said Kitty, with a stifled sob.

      Vandeloup shrugged his shoulders.

      ‘If you are going to make a scene,’ he said, coldly, ‘please postpone it. I don’t want my appetite taken away; would you kindly see if the dinner is ready?’

      Kitty dried her eyes and rang the bell, upon which Mrs Pulchop glided into the room, still wrapped in her heavy shawl.

      ‘It ain’t quite ready yet, sir,’ she said, in answer to Gaston’s question; ‘Topsy ‘aving been bad with the toothache, which you can’t expect people to cook dinners as is ill!’

      ‘Why don’t you send her to the hospital?’ said Vandeloup, with a yawn, looking at his watch.

      ‘Never,’ retorted Mrs Pulchop, in a decisively shrill voice; ‘their medicines ain’t pure, and they leaves you at the mercy of doctors to be practised on like a pianer. Topsy may go to the cemetery like her poor dear father, but never to an inquisition of a hospital;’ and with this Mrs Pulchop faded out of the room, for her peculiar mode of egress could hardly be called walking out.

      At last dinner made its appearance, and Kitty recovering her spirits, they had a very pleasant meal together, and then Gaston sat over his coffee with a cigarette, talking to Kitty.

      He never was without a cigarette in his mouth, and his fingers were all stained a yellowish brown by the nicotine. Kitty lay back in a big arm-chair listening to his idle talk and admiring him as he sat at the dinner table.

      ‘Can’t you stay tonight?’ she said, looking imploringly at him.

      Vandeloup shook his head gently.

      ‘I have an engagement, as I told you before,’ he said, lazily; ‘besides, evenings at home are so dreary.’

      ‘I will be here,’ said Kitty, reproachfully.

      ‘That will, of course, make a difference,’ answered Gaston, with a faint sneer; ‘but you know,’ shrugging his shoulders, ‘I do not cultivate the domestic virtues.’

      ‘What will you do when we are married?’ said Kitty, with an uneasy laugh.

      ‘Enough for the day is the evil thereof,’ replied M. Vandeloup, with a gay smile.

      ‘What do you mean?’ asked the girl, with a sudden start.

      Vandeloup arose from his seat, and lighting another cigarette he lounged over to the fireplace, and leaned against the mantelpiece with his hands in his pockets.

      ‘I mean that when we are married it will be time enough to talk about such things,’ he answered, looking at her through his eyelashes.

      ‘Then we will talk about them very shortly,’ said Kitty, with an angry laugh, as her hands clenched the arms of the chair tightly; ‘for the year is nearly up, and you promised to marry me at the end of it.’

      ‘How many things do we intend to do that are never carried out?’ said Gaston, gently. ‘Do you mean that you will break your promise?’ she asked, with a scared face.

      Vandeloup removed the cigarette from his mouth, and, leaning one elbow on the mantelpiece, looked at her with a smile.

      ‘My dear,’ he said, quietly, ‘things are not going well with me at present, and I want money badly.’

      ‘Well?’ asked Kitty in a whisper, her heart beating loudly.

      ‘You