5LJU_> 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 Of ILLINOIS 
 
 823 , 
 R435b 
 

 
 
 ■' 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
BY THE SAME AUTHOR 
 
 MORD EM’lY j 
 A SON OF THE STATE 
 A BREAKER OF LAWS 
 ERB 
 
 LOST PROPERTY 
 MRS. GALER'S BUSINESS 
 THE WICKHAMSES 
 NAME OF GARLAND 
 SIXTY-NINE BIRNAM ROAD 
 SPLENDID BROTHER 
 NINE TO SIX-THIRTY 
 THANKS TO SANDERSON 
 DEVOTED SPARKES 
 THE REMINGTON SENTENCE 
 THE HAPPY RECRUIT 
 THE KENNEDY PEOPLE 
 BOOK HERE 
 ON TOAST 
 MADAME PRINCE 
 TOP SPEED 
 
 SPECIAL PERFORMANCES 
 THE BUSTLING HOURS 
 WELL-TO-DO ARTHUR 
 
BANNERTON’S 
 
 AGENCY 
 
 BY 
 
 W. PETT RIDGE 
 
 / 
 
 METHUEN & GO. LTD. 
 36 ESSEX STREET W.C. 
 LONDON 
 

 First Published in 1921 
 
BANNERTON’S 
 
 AGENCY 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 ? c T’M fully well aware,” said cook impartially, “that 
 I you are keeping something back from me. I’m as 
 C “^confident of that, Grace Lennard, as I am that the 
 sun will rise to-morrow. Pve got a ear for secrets. I can 
 vi - detect ’em a mile off.” 
 
 “ You must really let mo be going now,” pleaded the 
 girl. “ I’m late as it is.” Cook, a widely built person, 
 moved with reluctance from the kitchen door, but held out, 
 
 ' semaphore fashion, her right arm to show that the clear 
 * signal had not been given. “ If I catch a tram, I shall get 
 to my people only just in time.” 
 
 “ Just in time for what ? ” 
 
 “ I promised to be there at seven sharp.” 
 
 » “ Anybody else expected besides your own folk ? ” 
 
 “ I don’t know. I couldn’t say. * There might be. I 
 can’t be certain.” 
 
 “ Grace Lennard,” said cook solemnly, “ have I ever 
 been wanting in straightforwardness with you ? During 
 all the months we’ve had in this show together — you vras 
 here before I were — have I on any occasion shown a disposi- 
 tion to be ’aughty or reserved ? ” 
 
 The other gave an emphatic shake of the head. “ Quite 
 the reverse,” she admitted. 
 
 “ Very well, then,” remarked cook. “ Why can’t you 
 treat me as I treat you ? Can’t you see how much pleas- 
 anter the world would be for all of us if ? ” 
 
 A voice called from the landing above. Had Grace yet 
 left the house ? The girl, by pantomime, endeavoured to 
 impart her desire that cook should answer in the affirma- 
 1 1 
 
2 
 
 BANNEBTON’S AGENCY 
 
 tive, but cook was too much hurt to join a friendly con- 
 spiracy. 44 Just on the point of starting, mem,” she an- 
 swered. 44 Tell her,” directed the voice, “ to come up and see 
 me before she goes.” 
 
 “ I’m sorry for you, lass,” whispered cook amusedly, 
 “ but you’ve brought it all on yourself.” 
 
 Grace, apparelled for walking, sighed and obeyed the 
 imperative order. The set of rooms over Jarford’s Bazaar 
 had the advantage (or. drawback) that raised tones could 
 be heard by any of the occupants, and it seemed probable 
 the mistress of the establishment had listened to the 
 discussion taking place in the kitchen. Mrs. Jarford was 
 not allowed to take any share in the business on the ground 
 floor that presented window features to Upper Street ; 
 a recent command from her son forbade her to speak to 
 the lady assistants there. ‘ 4 You’re a fairly good sort, Ma,” 
 he said, 44 but you’ve got a perfect genius for interfering, 
 and that and my neuralgia put together is more than 
 I can put up with.” In consequence, Mrs. Jarford had to 
 keep her powers in this respect for the benefit of the two 
 members of the household staff. 
 
 44 This,” she remarked, as one about to skirmish leisurely 
 before engaging at close quarters, 44 this, then, is your 
 evening out, Gracev” ; ; J 
 
 44 Providing I can get away.” 
 
 44 1 wish you to write some letters for me.” 
 
 44 They must wait.” 
 
 44 You 'are young,” said the old lady, 44 and it is natural 
 for the youthful to be impatient. You must curb it, Grace. 
 You must set a watch on yourself. When I was your age, 
 my dear parents always made me count ten before I 
 answered a question.” 
 
 44 Perhaps there was more time to spare in those days. 
 If there’s nothing else you wanted to tell me, Mrs. Jarford 
 
 5? 
 
 She made a gesture of appeal. 
 
 44 1 want to ask you something. Hasjny son been less 
 urgent in his attentions of late ? ” 
 
 44 If anything, more so. And I tell you, I’m tired of it. 
 His behaviour is getting on my nerves. I shan’t stand it 
 much longer.” 
 
BANNERTQN’S AGENCY 
 
 3 
 
 “ Grace, you have been in my employment now for some 
 time, and I have given myself the trouble to start and 
 to complete your domestic and general education. I am 
 now going to put a serious challenge to you. I sent you 
 out on errand this morning which should have taken 
 twenty minutes : you were absent for a whole hour. Now 
 do you wish to stay on, or do you not ? Think before 
 you answer.” 
 
 “ I don’t wish to stay on,” she rapped out. “ I want 
 to leave at the end of the month. And now. for goodness’ 
 sake, do let me trot off.” 
 
 Nothing was gained in expedition by the announcement. 
 Mrs. Jarford, declaring with truth that she had been taken 
 by surprise, begged Grace to enter the sitting-room, where, 
 within closed doors, they could discuss the new topic fully, 
 and by methods of conciliation arrive at a more or less 
 satisfactory arrangement. -Let us, urged Mrs. Jarford, 
 avoid anything like impetuosity. Let us adopt the well- 
 known principle of give and take. Let us apply ourselves, 
 quietly and soberly, to the problem. Undoubtedly Grace 
 was right in declining Mr. Jarford’s overtures, but she 
 should treat him gently. Mrs. Jarford increased the note 
 of coaxing, the timepiece in the next room struck ; the girl, 
 suddenly alarmed, cried : 
 
 “ I must hop it ! ” ' 
 
 And, turning, hurried away. In going down the narrow 
 staircase, she heard cook’s sibilant appeal, but this was 
 disregarded. The girl offered an ejaculation of relief on 
 finding herself stepping out to the pavement, and into the 
 heat of a summer evening. 
 
 A single deck car was going southward and, by running, 
 she caught it between stopping places. A passenger had 
 been asked a question, and was answering it, after examina- 
 tion of the face of his watch. “ It wants, as near as I can 
 make it, and I set mine right by the post office clock this 
 morning — it wants just upon twenty-three, minutes to 
 •, eight.” Grace, in paying her fare, reckoned the extent of 
 the delay, and prayed for swiftness ; the reply came near 
 the town hall, when the car was arrested suddenly and 
 the conductor announced grimly : 
 
 “ More trouble ! ” 
 
4 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 Half a dozen cars were in a close line ahead ; folk on the 
 pavement watched interestedly. Grace made her way out 
 of the conveyance, and, throwing aside her ticket, flew. 
 The waiting crowd appeared to resent her impatience, and 
 said, with irony, 44 How is it you aren’t in a hurry, miss ? ” 
 but she did not stop to bandy words. Instead, in running 
 her swiftest, the girl looked at familiar by-streets and 
 noted the titles : Cross Street, Church Lane, and presently 
 Islington Green, and the detached line of buildings that 
 included the stores. Past the theatre, and arrival at The 
 Old Nag’s Head gave the feeling that her destination was 
 near. She was in no way deterred by the criss-cross of 
 traffic, and raced over to St. John’s Street where the 
 pavement was less occupied, and good progress could be 
 made. At Rydon Crescent, which, with its slight bend, 
 communicated with Rosebery Avenue and came out to 
 face Sadler’s Wells, the girl slackened to recover bteath, 
 
 ' and to approach thp residence of her family with something 
 like composure. No visitor could leave the house now 
 without being seen by her. If necessary, etiquette might 
 be disregarded, and a shout of 44 Hi ! ” offered. The steps 
 to the front door, where the plate bore the name of Lennard, 
 almost effaced by years of rubbing, had marks of recent 
 footsteps. In the window a card said 44 Dressmaking ” in 
 such a reserved way that only those who stopped could 
 read. 
 
 44 Ah, Mrs. Price,” she called to a woman in the area. 
 44 Busy as usual ? ” 
 
 44 Busy ain’t the word for it. Just come down and say 
 4 How d’ye do ! ’ ” 
 
 44 Not just now. Later on perhaps. I’ve got to meet 
 some one here.” ‘ 
 
 44 He’s called,” announced Grace’s younger sister, greeting 
 her at the top of the area steps. 
 
 44 Almost afraid,” she cried, 44 1 should be too late.” 
 
 44 You are.” 
 
 44 Cuss ! ” she ejaculated. 
 
 44 He stayed on until ten to, and then he said he had 
 to be going because his mother expected him to dinner.” 
 Kate gave a short laugh. 44 Dinner if you please, at this 
 time of the day. I said, 4 You mean supper, Mr. Banner- 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 5 
 
 ton.’ He never answered me, just stared, and began about 
 something else.” 
 
 “ He's a good talker,” argued Grace. 
 
 “I prefer a chap who listens.” 
 
 Members of the Lennard household in the front room 
 nodded as Grace entered ; she went to the occupant of 
 the large easy-chair and kissed his forehead, saying, “ Well, 
 dad, and how’s the world using you ? ” At the oblong 
 mirror above the mantelpiece she took off her hat, and in 
 perking up hair over her forehead, glanced at the reflections 
 of her two brothers and two sisters. There appeared to 
 be an air of restraint : Robert, the eldest, was examining 
 a cigar as one doubtful whether the occasion had sufficient 
 importance to justify the lighting of it ; Edmund, the 
 youngest, nodded at her reassuringly ; the sisters gazed 
 determinedly at a steel engraving, in a maple frame on 
 the wall, a picture giving the Duke of Wellington revisiting 
 the field of Waterloo. 
 
 “ Sorry I’m behindhand,” Grace remarked, turning from 
 the mirror. “ I did all I could to be here in good time, 
 but it was no use. The moment my* old lady recognized 
 that I wanted to get away sharp ■” 
 
 “ I wish ” said her father. She stopped at once. 
 
 “ I wish your poor .mother was alive.” Hester, the eldest 
 daughter, asked what was the use in offering a remark of 
 the kind ; Mr. Lennard pleaded that he intended no harm, 
 and looked around for encouragement. “ Your poor 
 mother,” he added, “ would have settled what was best 
 to be done. Your poor mother was a manager.” 
 
 Robert cleared his voice, and rising from his chair, 
 approached the oval table, set in the middle of the room. 
 Hester and Kate nodded to show that this action had their 
 support. . \ 
 
 “ Excuse me,” interrupted Grace. “ We needn’t have 
 any fuss. I arranged for Tom Bannerton to call here ; I 
 wanted you to see him, and to make his acquaintance. 
 I wish I’d been here when he called, and I meant to be 
 here. But all you’ve got to say is, whether you like him 
 or not. It doesn’t matter a great deal either way, 
 because,”' defiantly, “I do ! ” Her younger brother 
 was alone in saying “ Hear, hear.” 
 
6 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 “ When Grace interposed/’ said Robert, addressing the 
 group, with special attention to his eldest sister, “ I was 
 about to make a brief statement in the fewest possible 
 words regarding the case^as it appears personally to me. 
 When I’ve finished, it is open to anybody to express agree- 
 ment, or hint at opposition, just as they please. In saying 
 what I am going to say, I convey my own individual opinions 
 and they need not be held to bind, in any shape or form, 
 the ideas of those around us this evening. Since the day 
 I first entered public lifp, I have always been on the side of 
 freedom of thought, freedom of speech, freedom of action.” 
 His young brother whispered to him. 
 
 “ Edmund, on my left, recommends me to get on with it. 
 Ladies and gentlemen — or rather should say, father, brother 
 and sisters — I will take his advice. ' I wish to say that we 
 are what is commonly called and usually known as a hard- 
 working family. No one can declare of the Lennards that 
 they toil not, neither do they spin.” 
 
 Hester gave the fervent ejaculation of agreement some- 
 times offered from chapel pews. 
 
 “Take father’s own case. He has been at it since he 
 was a boy of twelve 
 
 * “ ’Leven and a half,” corrected Mr. Lennard. 
 
 “ — And as a jeweller and silversmith, he is, I venture to 
 say, known and respected. Take my own case, concerning 
 which modesty forbids me to speak at any length. It is 
 only fair to say that my position in the offices of the Borough 
 Council is one that could not have been achieved without 
 industry, self-sacrifice, doggedness. I pass lightly over 
 the instances of Hester and Kate, excepting to mention 
 that Kate is engaged in a city warehouse, and that Hester, 
 who looks after the home, is, I am happy to say, engaged 
 in another sense of the word.” The group seemed to 
 welcome this lighter touch ; Hester made an unsuccessful 
 essay to appear confused. “We have extended the right 
 hand of welcome to Hester’s young man. He belongs to 
 our own class, and we have no difficulty in treating him 
 as an equal. If Kate here shows a similar wisdom in her 
 choice—” 
 
 “ Mention my name,” begged Edmund. “ Don’t leave 
 me out of it. Give me a_ paragraph to myself.” 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 7 
 
 “ The circumstance/’ said Robert, still in the platform 
 manner, “ that I am not speaking from notes, accounts 
 for the fact that I had overlooked Edmund. He is the 
 youngest of our circle, and but for a tendency to excessive 
 patronage of West End theatres- ” 
 
 “ For which/’ remarked Edmund, “ he'pays out of the 
 allowance of his own wages.” 
 
 “ — And a great deal too much talk about Mr. Beerbohm 
 Tree, Mr. George Alexander and others, there is, I may say, 
 no fault to find with Edmund. And also, whilst I am on 
 the subject, I am ready to confess that Grace herself has, 
 up till now, never given us occasion for a single moment 
 of anxiety. She elected to go, after an interval, on leaving 
 school, into a business house at the far end of Upper Street.” 
 
 “ Queer thing about that is,” said Mr. Lennard, leaning 
 forward in his easy chair, “ that I first met your poor 
 mother outside Highbury station. It was raining cats and 
 dogs, and I offered her a share of my gamp. She was 
 in service at the time in Canonbury Place.” The old 
 gentleman seemed to realize that his memories were 
 delaying progress. 
 
 “ We now come,” said Robert, “ to the question 
 of Grace’s young man. I am bound to declare, 
 without further preamble, that he won’t do. I look at the 
 matter from the broad and common-sense point of view, 
 and I say he won’t do at any price. Grace must try 
 again. Grace -is not the first to make a wrong selection, 
 and hard as it may appear to her at the moment, the time 
 will come when she will be thankful for us for giving her 
 good advice.” 
 
 “ What’s wrong with him ? ” demanded Grace. 
 
 “ I am asked,” said Robert, not to be hurried, “ what is 
 wrong with him. My reply to that question is that there 
 is nothing specially wrong with the young gentleman, but 
 
 he is not our sort. Try as he might, he could never ” 
 
 For the first time, Grace’s elder brother seemed at a loss 
 for a word. Edmund offered suggestions ; they were 
 rejected. “ He could never assimilate with us. I may 
 add that I speak as a senior member of the family, pure 
 and simple.” 
 
 “ Simple, anyway,” remarked Edmund. 
 
8 
 
 BANNERTQN’S AGENCY 
 
 “ Finished, Robert?” asked the eldest sister. 
 
 “ For the present.” 
 
 “ In that case,” said Hester precisely, “ I should like 
 to state that I agree with all that has been said, and further- 
 more, I don’t like this Mr. Bannerton. I don’t like Mr. 
 Bannerton,” she repeated, “ and I never should like him. 
 I can always tell, directly I meet a person, whether I am 
 going to like that person or not. Mr. Bannerton is too over- 
 bearing, and too self-opinionated, and too much disposed to 
 ignore others. These tall, good-looking fellers are not to 
 be trusted. I don’t know what his people are like, but 
 I can guess. That is all I have to say. I’ve kept this 
 household going ever since poor mother went, and I’ve 
 . done my best, and I see after both the two lodgers, and 
 
 it's very hard to keep silent when a matter like this ” 
 
 Hester found her handkerchief, and pressed it to her eyes. 
 
 “ Grace will see,” said Robert, summing up, “ from the 
 general drift or trend of our discussion that we are opposed 
 to this so-called engagement of hers. I hope she won’t 
 mind.” 
 
 “ I don’t mind in the least,” remarked Grace. 
 
 “That’s good. Now let’s see about something to eat.” 
 Hester and Kate rose to comply. 
 
 “ The reason I don’t mind,” Grace went on, pulling at 
 the thin gold chain around her neck, “is because Mr. 
 Bannerton and I went to the registrar’s office this morning.” 
 She swung the chain, with the plain gold ring dependent, 
 and the others stared. 
 
 “I don’t favour these hasty marriages,” said her eldest 
 sister. 
 
 “ So I perceive.” 
 
 “ They make people talk.” 
 
 “ If they make them talk well that’s. all right. The fact 
 is Mr. Bannerton doesn’t want his mother to know just yet. 
 We intended to start married life later on, but Mr. Bannerton 
 found out there were others after me, and he was afraid I 
 might alter my view.” The two sisters left ; Grace smiled 
 at the rest. “ Aren’t any of you going to congratulate 
 me?” she asked. 
 
 Her father craned himself up from, the easy chair, and, 
 approaching, set a hand on either side of her face, and kissed 
 
 / 
 
BANNEBTON’S AGENCY 
 
 9 
 
 her. “ Best of good fortune, my dear ! ” lie said. Edmund 
 gave an affectionate embrace. Bobert patted ber shoulder 
 in a non-committal way. From the kitchen came the 
 sound of whispered conversation. 
 
 “ So,” remarked the father genially, “ we’ve gbt to recon- 
 cile ourselves to the fact that our Grade has made up her 
 mind to have a change ? ” 
 
 “ That’s the idea ! ” she said. “ And what beats me , 
 is that any one should find the leastest objection to me 
 doing so. I thought you’d all be taken with him.” 
 
 Temper found itself brightened by the meal, and even 
 Hester cheered up on ascertaining that Mr. Bannerton 
 was in the employ of no one more important than, the 
 manufacturer of theatrical properties, carrying om business 
 in City Boad ; she admitted the young man’s deport- 
 ment had led her to suspect that he enjoyed a life of 
 independence. Edmund believed he knew the firm by 
 reputation, and had reason to think it well and securely 
 established ; he wondered if orders for the play ever came 
 in the direction, and Grace was able to inform him that on 
 occasions Mr. Bannerton had taken her down west, and 
 the two had been shown into a part of the theatre where 
 tip-up seats Were provided. At other times, when free admis- 
 sion could not be arranged, patronage was given either the 
 gallery or the pit. The general view of the family appeared 
 to be that it was well to make the best of the situation. 
 
 “ Perhaps,” said Hester, judicially, *' e he didn’t do himself 
 justice.” 
 
 “ Not many chaps,” said Bobert, “ shine at their best 
 on first introduction. This one has undoubtedly got 
 hidden qualities. Looked at from the broad and common- 
 sense point of view ” 
 
 “ The circumstance that Grace wasn’t about,” mentioned 
 Kate, “ probably put him off his stroke. The next call 
 may show him to better advantage. I recollect the case 
 of a young fellow at our warehouse in Friday Street.” 
 
 “ Any one who’s had an appointment to keep at the 
 registrar’s in the morning,” asserted Edmund, “ can be 
 excused if he appears semi-detached.” 
 
 “ The lad,” said the father, “ seemed a trifle absent- 
 minded, if I may use the expression — as though he’d got 
 
10 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 something on his mind that was worrying— but otherwise 
 I saw nothing the matter with him. If he sticks to his 
 job in the City Road, and earns good money, there’s no 
 reason, so far as I can see, why he shouldn’t turn out a 
 very fair specimen.” Mr. Lennard nodded approvingly to 
 Grace across the table. 
 
 “ What I want now,” she remarked, “ is to find out what 
 he thinks of all of you.” . 
 
 There was rivalry for the honour of escorting the girl 
 back to Upper Street, and Hester and Kate both proclaimed 
 eagerness for exercise and fresh air ; Grace said she felt 
 capable, as hitherto, of looking after herself, but that 
 Edmund, if he wished, might accompany her. So Edmund 
 put on straw hat and the two went down the steps at the 
 front door into Ryden Crescent ; for old acquaintance sake, 
 the girl descended to the area and enjoyed the brief talk 
 promised to Mrs. Price. Mrs. Price had entered the 
 household during the last illness of Grace’s mother, and 
 any suggestions conveyed at any time to the effect that 
 she need not trouble to come again at Rydon Crescent were 
 treated by her as good jokes. 
 
 “ Reminds me,” she would say, “ of a story I ’eard the 
 other evening of a chap who wanted to get rid of his wife. 
 It ’pears •” \ ,, rj 
 
 Mrs. Price was a collector of anecdotes, and some had 
 to be given in undertones ; she also brought to Rydon 
 Crescent, on the one day of the week that she gave services 
 there, many items of society gossip as picked up by her 
 in various establishments of the neighbourhood ; in any 
 other grade she would have found herself involved in 
 slander cases in the High Courts. These she gave in no 
 way from a severe point of view; it was, indeed, with 
 particular relish that she alluded to her own early years— 
 “ I was only a bit of a gel at the time ! — and to her 
 adventures in the ’eighties, with youthful members of the 
 other sex. Mrs. Price’s conversational powers were held to 
 compensate for lack of energy in household duties ; _ it often 
 seemed when the day’s task was over that she had done 
 little but dislodge furniture, causing a room to take the 
 semblance of one affected by an earthquake, and, later, 
 replace the articles in their original position. Grace, on 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY. 11 
 
 the present occasion, having glanced around, remonstrated 
 in good, set terms. 
 
 “ You don’t understand, my dear,” said Mrs. Price 
 patiently. “ Let me try to explain. I don’t take up charring 
 as a profession ; I take it up as a ’obby. And I don’t 
 intend to wear myself out before my time. I can’t profess 
 to have learnt much in this world, but I do know this ; 
 it isn’t always those who work the most that get the greatest 
 credit. You, my dear, may see through my dodges, because 
 you’re in the same line of business, but I assure you there’s 
 plenty who have got the idea that I do far too much.” 
 
 “ Strikes me,” declared Grace, preparing to go, “that 
 you are a humbug.” 
 
 “ Oh well,” said Mrs. Price tolerantly, “ we -all have to 
 be something. And mind you, there’s times when I can 
 make myself very useful.” A grim recital told with ani- 
 mation of a laying out near King’s Cross, followed, with 
 tributes to her own dexterity. “ And as to the news you’ve 
 brought, my dear, Pm pleased to hear it, although weddings 
 never cheer me up like funerals do. Give us a look in 
 again soon.” 
 
 The evening had a pleasant touch of coolness after the 
 warmth of the day, and folk sat on steps and at open windows 
 remarking to each other, “ Hasn’t it been a scorcher, and 
 no mistake ! ” Men, as they sauntered by, released them- 
 selves from the serfdom of a starched collar ; young girls, 
 on nearing home, made .a slight rearrangement of an open 
 necked blouse in order to meet the prejudices of mothers 
 and elder sisters. In Rosebery Avenue, Edmund referred 
 to the probability that Kent would be champion county 
 for the year (himself a Middlesex man he envied Kent the 
 possession of Ilardinge, Woolley and Blythe) and specu- 
 lated on the intensely difficult situation which would arise 
 if some one came along and said “ Look here ! Will you 
 be a successful gentleman cricketer, or will you be a success- 
 ful actor ? ” Edmund confessed that everything depended 
 on his mood. 
 
 “ Let’s turn down,” he said, “ and have a glance at the 
 place where your Mr. Bannerton works. I feel sure it’s 
 the one I was, thinking of.” 
 
 City Road is a thoroughfare liberally supplied (as to 
 
12 
 
 BANNEKTON’S AGENCY 
 
 its western end) with front gardens, and these are now held 
 exempt from horticulture, giving themselves up instead to 
 storage of boxes, exhibition of samples. Signs are displayed 
 at most of the houses, and on this July evening, there was 
 illumination at windows, indicating that overtime was 
 being worked. Grace and her young brother found a name 
 on railings, and the information was confirmed by the 
 announcement at the far end of the pavemented walk 
 where two lads, exhausted by the heat or the monotony of 
 their occupation, were bringing out cardboard cases. 
 
 “ What does he earn ? ” asked Edmund curiously. 
 
 “ I’ve never dared to ask,” answered Grace. 
 
 One of the lads, approaching, and setting down his load, 
 asked Edmund if he had such a thing as a match about 
 him. Edmund was able to supply this, and, demanding 
 courtesy for courtesy, inquired whether Mr. Bannerton 
 chanced to be anywhere in sight. A confidential talk 
 ensued. 
 
 “ Thirty-five bob a week,” said Edmund, returning to his 
 sister. 
 
 “ Not so bad,” she remarked. 
 
 “ He’s in there now. Clearing up. Something’s hap- 
 pened — I couldn’t find .out exactly what- — and he’s leaving 
 the show to-night.” 
 
 A tall young man, straw-hatted and without a waistcoat, 
 appeared at the entrance of the house. He was accom- 
 panied by two or three shirt-sleeved workmen, to whom he 
 offered his hand ; they rubbed palms on apron before taking 
 it. The farewells over, he marched, with a suggestion of 
 importance, towards the gate. “ I’ll be off,” said Edmund 
 tactfully. “ You two would rather be alone.” 
 
 Grace stood back near the railings. As the youth turned, 
 she cried “ Hello ! ” and he gave the movement of surprise 
 that the ejaculation was intended to create. Immediately 
 on this he was embracing her, and kissing her lips affec- 
 tionately. 
 
 “ Unreliable but attractive creature,” he exclaimed 
 reproachfully, “ not to be at home when I called ! ” She 
 began to explain, but he did not want to listen. “ This has 
 been an extraordinary day.” 
 
 “ Most wedding days are.” 
 
RANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 13 
 
 “ I had a telegram from my mother just before I left 
 to call on your people. By the by, they must have thought 
 I was off my head.” 
 
 / “ They didn’t go quite so far as that.” 
 
 “ She had just heard,” he went on, “ from some firm 
 in Adam Street, Strand. Solicitors. Quite a decent sum 
 has been left to her. I’m going on now to Highbury to 
 hear all about it.” They walked on. “ Isn’t it a most 
 tremendous lark ? ” 
 
 “ I’m not sure,” she replied doubtfully. 
 
 A middle-aged man, too youthfully dressed and wearing 
 in his button-hole a rose excessively large, came in the 
 opposite direction : Tom Bannerton left his companion 
 with some haste and exchanged nods. The middle-aged 
 man in passing by Grace eyed her approvingly. 
 
 “ A Mr. Watherston,” he mentioned as she caught up 
 with him. “ My mother’s financial adviser,” 
 
 “ If you had known,” she asked, sharply, “ about this 
 cash at ten o’clock this morning, should you — should we 
 have paid our call at the registrar’s office ? ” 
 
 Before reaching the Angel corner, he had succeeded in 
 persuading her that even the wealth of the Bank of England 
 could have made no difference. “ You’re my girl,” he said 
 with emphasis, “ and that’s all there is to be said about it. 
 Money can do a lot, but it can’t part me from you.” 
 
 “ I’m glad ! ” she remarked. 
 
 He caught a Nineteen omnibus, and she, walking in the 
 direction of Jarford’s, thought exultantly of her new impor- 
 tance there* When she first j oined the establishment, young 
 women serving at the counters of the Bazaar under the 
 watchful eye of Mr. Jarford, treated her with an air of 
 condescension which they borrowed' from lady customers 
 who came with the handsome resolution to swell the 
 receipts of the establishment by sixpence halfpenny ; the 
 more experienced hands treated Grace as an equal, and 
 the wisest amongst them showed deference, for Grace 
 had a certain authority (with cook) over the rather scanty 
 meals provided, and assistants who showed a good deport- 
 ment towards her were, at table, rewarded. 
 
 “ I earn more than you do,” she declared once with 
 spirit, when an imperious girl had spoken in tones of 
 
14 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 elaborate sympathy regarding those compelled to undertake 
 household duties. “ I eat more than you do. I have more 
 time to myself than you do.” 
 
 “ I was alluding,” said the other distantly, “ to the 
 nature of the work.” 
 
 “ As to that,” contended Grace warmly, “ I had the 
 chance of going on the downstairs staff, and I preferred 
 not.” Cook, by an emphatic movement of the head, gave 
 evidence in support and the prosecution was, by consent, 
 withdrawn. 
 
 The facts, Grace reminded herself, were within the 
 memory of cook, and of Mr. Jarford and his mother. At 
 Rydon Crescent, when Grace left the L.C.C. school with 
 high honours at the age of fourteen, Hester became, in 
 the phrase used, apprenticed to the dressmaking, and Grace 
 took her place in the home. The years of learning coming 
 to an end for Hester, the card went into the window at 
 Rydon Crescent, and after one or two arguments and bicker- 
 ings concerning the division of tasks, Grace decided there 
 was not sufficient room for both in the house ; Robert, 
 sitting as arbitrator and assessor, guaranteed to obtain 
 for her a refined situation in a business house with which 
 he had acquaintance. The first interview between Mr. 
 Jarford and Grace occurred at Jarford’s Bazaar in Upper 
 Street on the following day. 
 
 “ Can’t say I like the look of them,” she said frankly, 
 glancing at the young women at the counters. “ They 
 don’t seeim to me happy. I think, if you don’t mind, I’ll 
 try elsewhere.” 
 
 “ My ladies,” argued Mr. Jarford, “ are not to be judged 
 by mere surface appearance. You must decline to allow 
 yourself to be led away by chilblains, or by a touch of 
 colour about the nose, or by a deliberation or heaviness in 
 gait.” 
 
 “ And the money isn’t much.” 
 
 “ I claim no right to exceed the market figure.” 
 
 “ They’re overworked, and underfed.” 
 
 “ I cannot,” said Mr. Jarford (Grace could understand 
 why he and her brother Robert were friends) “ spare the 
 time to argue with you on economical conditions, but I 
 may remark that we here believe in small profits, and 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 15 
 
 quick returns. That is our motto. Those are the words 
 emblazoned, in a manner of speaking, on our flag. On that 
 foundation the bazaar exists. And if 7 ’ — Mr. J arf ord brought 
 both arms into play for oratorical gesture — “ we were to 
 pay our young ladies a higher weekly wage than the one 
 they at present receive, the business would at once begin 
 to totter ; commerce would receive a deathly blow, and 
 capital would inevitably be driven to choose some foreign 
 country for its operations.” 
 
 “ You’re talking through your hat,” said Grace. 
 
 This was her exit speech, and she went out of the bazaar, 
 Mr. Jarford gazing at her wonderingly, and not without 
 admiration. In passing by the side door, she was caught 
 by Mr. Jarford’s mother, who tendered a cordial invitation 
 to enter. Grace followed the old lady upstairs. 
 
 “ I make it my duty,” said Mrs. Jarford confidentially, 
 “ to get to know everything that’s going on, and I happened 
 to be listening when your brother called yesterday evening. 
 And quite by luck, I heard you talking to my son just 
 now. What I wish to say is, that you are quite 
 right.” 
 
 “ You needn’t have called me in to tell me that.” 
 
 “ I want,” Mrs. Jarford continued, “ some one here to 
 help with the house. She’d be partly companion to me, 
 and partly ready to give cook a hand, and partly respon- 
 sible for needlework, and partly to talk to my son when 
 he’s in the mood for intelligent conversation, and 
 partly 
 
 “ Have you tried a registry office ? ” 
 
 “ I have. And they smiled.” 
 
 % “ Wonder they didn’t laugh outright. How much are 
 
 you prepared to offer for all this ? ” Mrs. Jarford men- 
 tioned a sum, and Grace said “ Good-bye ! ” and prepared 
 to leave. Chaffering ensued, to which the elder lady 
 brought a great appetite ; she pointed out the value to 
 be attached to motherly love, and motherly guidance, but 
 the girl was not disposed to make any allowance for these 
 boons. Eventually, Grace promised to give the matter 
 consideration, and, on this, Mrs. Jarford made another 
 increase in the wages tendered on the understanding that 
 “ Yes ” or “ No ” should be said here and now. 
 
16 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 “ Well have a dash at it,” consented the girl, “ and see 
 what happens.” 
 
 “ I shall treat you as a relative,” promised the other. 
 
 “ You’d better not,” said Grace. 
 
 Cook opened the side door at the bazaar, but did not 
 remove the chain until Grace had given the call indicating 
 that a member of the household had arrived. The girl’s 
 eyes were shining with the joys of retrospection, and with 
 contentment at the possessing of a great secret ; one that 
 she felt sure nobody at Jarford’s could guess. 
 
 “ Nice cool evening, Mrs. Bannerton,” remarked cook, 
 serenely. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 G RACE, waiting near the barrier at Fenchurch Street 
 station, hoped that arriving city folk would have 
 the intelligence to recognize her as a bride, on the 
 edge of starting for a delayed honeymoon ; the leather 
 travelling case (a gift from a syndicate made up of all the 
 members of her family) which she guarded should have 
 given a hint, and the bran new letters G. B. might assist 
 identification. There had been fine moments of disclosure 
 of news, apart from Rydon Crescent and her own folk, 
 but her relish of them was still keen ; if now any one should 
 come up to her and say, “ Hullo, Grace Lennard, what 
 do you do in these days ? 55 the ready answer was to be 
 given with a blend of pride and haughtiness, “ Mrs. Banner- 
 ton, if you please.” At Upper Street, the intention to 
 keep old Mrs. Jarford and cook in ignorance until the hour 
 came for saying good-bye had been marred, it seemed, by 
 the clumsiness of one of the young ladies engaged at Jar- 
 ford’s Bazaar who chanced to look in at the registrar’s 
 office to call for a young gentleman, engaged as a clerk 
 there ; being of an inquisitive temperament she occupied 
 the time, whilst her friend was changing his jacket, to 
 glance at the announcements of marriages exhibited, in 
 accordance with rules, upon the wall. Thus, the news had 
 gone around, and thus cook gained information, and Mrs. 
 Jarford became acquainted with facts. Compensating 
 incidents occurred. A pleasant rumour came from the 
 counter of the bazaar that the boss had looked on Grace 
 with a favourable eye, but felt assured there was no need 
 to take impetuous steps ; the rumour declared that on 
 hearing the news, he stamped up and down the establish- 
 ment, muttering self-reproachfully, “ Just my luck, just 
 . 2 17 
 
18 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 my luck ! ” And tradesmen calling at the side door 
 altered their conversational methods on hearing the news ; 
 the milkman expressed the hope that it would be decided 
 to settle down in the immediate neighbourhood, and that 
 he and his firm might be borne in mind. 
 
 “ Hurry along, dear girl,” ordered her young husband, 
 coming to the barrier, “ let’s make sure of corner seats.” 
 She took up the leather case, and he did not attempt to 
 claim the privilege of carrying it. Their tickets were 
 nipped by the collector at the barrier. 
 
 “ We’re passing by the third-class carnages,” she re- 
 marked, with deference, as they went along the platform. 
 
 “ Do,” he begged, “ please leave these matters to me.” 
 Her features coloured at the reproof. 
 
 Tom Bannerton selected a first-class compartment, 
 atoning for earlier brusqueness by asking if she had any 
 objection to a smoking carriage ; the choice was offered 
 to her of sitting with her back to the engine, or of facing 
 the engine. No one could have shown more tenderness 
 and consideration whilst they remained by themselves. 
 The more diplomatic of the passengers glanced in and 
 went on ; one or twm decided now that a young couple 
 had no special, rights of travel. Their presence seemed to 
 make Grace’s husband anxious that she should not talk, 
 and to ensure this, he himself talked, speaking of folk of 
 some distinction he had recently met, and especially of 
 his mother at Highbury. When he paused, Grace leaned 
 forward and whispered. 
 
 “ Did you tell her about me as you promised you would ? ” 
 
 “ I decided,” he answered in an undertone, “ it would be 
 better, and more convenient to write. Remind me to do 
 so ! ” In a raised voice, he spoke in terms of criticism of 
 the railway, comparing it with those going north, and 
 contended that unless reforms were carried out, the State 
 would undoubtedly have to interfere. There has never 
 yet been found a railway passenger who does not feel 
 competent to manage a railway, and the travellers joined 
 the discussion ; Grace listened admiringly to the share 
 taken by her young husband, and with an air of casual 
 interest to the views given by the rest. The parties were 
 in agreement on the main details, but this did not prevent 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 19 
 
 them from trying to outshout each other ; Tom Bannerton 
 was striking his kme with a folded journal in order to 
 emphasize argument, when a uniformed official appeared 
 at the doorway and said, 
 
 “ Show your tickets, please ! ” 
 
 He asked whether Grace’s husband was inclined to pay 
 the excess, or to transfer to a carriage of the grade men- 
 tioned on the tickets. Tom Bannerton declared that the 
 fault was not his, but the booking clerk’s, and, alternatively, 
 that it was impossible, on such a railway, to tell whether 
 you were in a first compartment or a third. The official 
 pointed out that the firsts bore the figure one, whilst the 
 thirds exhibited the figure three ; he repeated his inquiry, 
 and Tom Bannerton found money, and handed it over 
 with the threat that he would most certainly WTite to 
 head-quarters regarding the matter. 
 
 On the journey, the passengers declined to be inveigled 
 into further conversation, and Tom Bannerton — after 
 reciting to Grace the numerous occasions when he had 
 taken the most expensive tickets and had been compelled, 
 through overcrowding, to travel in an inferior description 
 of carriage— scanned his newspaper, and jerked across to 
 her morsels from the pages together with his own comments. 
 The train went at a level with upper-floor windows, through 
 Shadwell, Stepney, Blackwall, and Grace looked down at 
 narrow streets, and from the comfort of her position felt 
 sorry for mothers and babies there ; in a perfect world, 
 they too would be going ofi for two weeks of holiday by 
 the sea. And the girls occupied in factories would meet 
 young men, well looking and above their own station in 
 life, and thus be able to look forward, as she was looking 
 forward, to ease and comfort. Her companion, having 
 finished his reading of the newspaper, handed it to her, 
 and the journey was shortened by perusal of a case in the 
 law courts which hinted that, in married life, ease and 
 comfort did not always ensure happiness. 
 
 “ We’re at our destination,” announced her husband. 
 “ Don’t let us leave the case behind.” 
 
 “ To make sure,” recommended Grace, “ suppose you 
 carry it.” 
 
 The hotel was one of several which admitted ownership 
 
20 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 of the finest position on the sea front ; the railway folk 
 said it was but a hop, skip and a jump from the station, 
 but Tom Bannerton declared there would be opportunities 
 for walking later on, and^a cab was taken. They were 
 received at, the establishment with some of the honour due 
 to carriage folk, and the proprietress hoped they had 
 enjoyed a good journey, spoke with breezy confidence of 
 the weather, and alluded proudly to residents now patroniz- 
 ing the hotel. “ A very nice lot, really,” she declared. 
 “ Amongst them ” — smiling' — “one or two newly married 
 couples. Yes, lunch at one. No other baggage ? ” Tom 
 Bannerton answered that they made a practice of travelling 
 light, and the proprietress gave warm approval. “ This 
 isn’t what I call a dressy sea-side town,” she remarked. 
 He went across to examine the long bills announcing the 
 week’s entertainment at the local theatre, and the pro- 
 prietress turned, with an air of casual inquiry. 
 
 “ By the by,” she said, “ and whilst I think of it, does 
 your husband take tea or coffee for breakfast ? ” 
 
 “ Really couldn’t tell you,” answered Grace frankly. 
 The other nodded amiably as one who has secured a useful 
 piece of information. 
 
 In their room, the two, content to be alone, kissed each 
 other, danced around, gazed from the window and spoke 
 in enthusiastic terms of the pi'dspect. Grace had a limited 
 experience of the sea, but her young husband could reel 
 off names of south-coast places known to him ; he men- 
 tioned that he had always, in visiting them, had to remember 
 economy, and the present hotel was, he admitted, the most 
 elaborate he had yet patronized. He, however, felt no 
 kind of nervousness, and Grace said she envied his com- 
 posure. “ Supposing,” she remarked apprehensively, “ we 
 meet any one who knows me.” He replied that it was 
 never his habit to open an umbrella until it came on to 
 rain ; she mentioned that she believed in carrying an 
 umbrella if it looked like rain. Grace watched him admir- 
 ingly as he brushed his hair, sparing no trouble to find the 
 right parting, and he in turn gazed at her reflection when 
 she stood in front of the cheval mirror. 
 
 “ I’ve got the best-looking wife to be found in the world,” 
 he declared. 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 21 
 
 “ You needn’t brag,” she retorted good-humouredly. 
 “ I’ve got the smartest husband.” 
 
 “ Strikes me we’re going to be most remarkably jolly.” 
 
 “ It’ll be our own fault if we’re not.” 
 
 The head waiter met them at the entrance to the dining- 
 room, with an air at once fatherly and respectful. “ I 
 have ventured to reserve, sir, a table to yourselves. This 
 way, sir, if you don’t mind. Later on, of course, sir, if 
 you wish it, you can sit at the long table.” Other guests 
 stared with open curiosity as the new-comers were escorted, 
 and, from a distance, a short laugh came ; it was a relief 
 to Grace when the table was reached, and she could sit in 
 ambush behind a vase of flowers. Think you’ll be com- 
 fortable here, madam, said the head waiter hopefully, and 
 Grace bowed slightly to convey re-assurance. At the 
 adjoining table, a stout lady, also apparently in the early 
 stages of a visit, and temporarily isolated for observation, 
 dropped the piece of toast which she had taken from the 
 rack. 
 
 “ Aunt Eliza ! ” cried Grace. 
 
 “ Whatever,” demanded the stout lady, in hushed tones, 
 5C brings you here, duck ? ” 
 
 “ My husband.” 
 
 The girl presented Tom Bannerton, and the aunt, sum- 
 moning the head waiter, ordered that the two tables should 
 be brought in closer proximity. She made no attempt to 
 conceal her satisfaction at the meeting, but she did complain 
 of having been kept in ignorance of the wedding. 
 
 “ Your father’s always been stand-offish with me,” she 
 remarked, “ ever since he heard I’d been on the stage in 
 my early days. He never properly got over the shock of 
 that.” Grace’s husband asked if she happened to be out 
 of an engagement. “ Bless your heart, young man,” she 
 said amusedly, “ I chucked the profession years ago. 
 Hasn’t Grace ever talked to you about me ? Mrs. Reeves, 
 I am. I keep the Crown and Anchor at Dalston, I do. 
 Know the Crown and Anchor, don’t you ? ” He said, 
 carefully, that he was quite sure he ought to know it. 
 “ It’s a fully licensed house with no less than two billiard 
 tables and, although I say it, very respectably managed. I 
 won’t have no onseeifily rows, nor nothing with any — — ” 
 
22 
 
 BANNEBTON’jS AGENCY 
 
 She snatched at her napkin, and pressed it to her month. 
 “ Must be careful how I give myself away,” she said con- 
 fidentially. 4 4 I’m not supposed to have anything to do 
 with the trade whilst Fm on my holiday. You’ll think 
 I’m a bit of a fraud, you two, I’m afraid.” 
 
 “ I should be inclined to guess,” Tom Bannerton said, 
 ££ that there’s no one in this hotel who isn’t pretending to 
 be some one else. Not a single individual.” 
 
 “ Nor a married one, neither,” suggested Aunt Eliza. 
 She seemed to have a generous recognition of her own jokes, 
 and it was some time ere she recovered from her signs of 
 appreciation of this remark ; the young people were able, 
 in consequence, to deal with the filleted soles placed before 
 them. One of the junior waiters brought stewed steak 
 and vegetables, and Aunt Eliza gave him a brief lesson on 
 the art of serving at table. “ If you never learn, you’ll 
 never know, my son,” she said. To Grace, when the lad 
 had gone, she admitted she could not number herself 
 amongst those who convinced other folk that they belonged 
 to the aristocracy. <£ I could do it once,” said Aunt Eliza, 
 ££ in the old Brit, days, but I’ve lost the knack of it. I’ve 
 growed clumsy.” Grace’s husband offered a polite con- 
 tradiction. “ Why,” she went on, ££ it only jest occurs to 
 me. I’m probably in the way, so far as you two are con- 
 cerned. You’d a lot rather be left to yourselves. Why 
 didn’t I think of that before ? ” 
 
 “ The mistake is,” said Grace, ££ in thinking of it now.” 
 
 ££ You must understand,” said her husband, “ that we 
 have travelled together all the way from London. Con- 
 sequently, we’re uncommonly glad to be meeting some one 
 to talk to.” 
 
 ££ There’s many a comic word spoken in jest,” mentioned 
 Aunt Eliza. ££ Wonder what they’ll give us for after ? 
 I’m fond of sweets, because, you see, I don’t drink, and 
 I’ve got to the age when I take no special interest in my 
 figure. You’d never imagine, duck,” to Grace, ££ that I 
 was once as slim as yourself. At that time I use to say, 
 £ Nothing will ever persuade me to let my waist get beyond 
 twenty-five inches.’ And now ” — divertedly — ££ now, look 
 at me ! ” 
 
 Aunt Eliza planned out, before leaving the table, a 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 23 
 
 considerable excursion that included an eight miles’ walk,, 
 and spoke with enthusiasm of the good resulting from 
 rapid movement in the open air. In the entrance hall, 
 she hedged slightly, and begged the young couple to 
 remember that she was handicapped by age and weight ; 
 it would be enough, she hoped, if she accompanied them 
 for one half of the distance, and rested, pending their 
 return. At the last moment, she consulted the proprietress. 
 Telephoning followed, and within ten minutes a pair-horsed 
 open carriage drew up in front of the hotel, with a coachman 
 who, from his appearance, might either have been in the 
 employ of the aristocracy, or himself have belonged to the 
 ranks of the aristocracy ; he spoke reassuringly concerning 
 the temper of the animals, and promised to make no 
 endeavour to travel at anything beyond the legal speed. 
 Residents, prepared for such strenuous occupations as 
 lawn tennis and golf, looked on. 
 
 “ Money ! ’’ they said pityingly. 
 
 Aunt Eliza proved an admirable companion, taking 
 frequent dozes which enabled the two to converse affection- 
 ately and without interruption, and awaking from these to 
 tell an anecdote, to give a reminiscence, to put a challenging 
 question. All the stories might have passed unrebuked 
 by a censor, but she felt it imperative to apologize for the 
 yarns on the ground that some would consider them risky ; 
 the questions were more perturbing, for they had the 
 quality of directness and brought her companions down 
 from the heights of sentiment to the commonplace of 
 facts. What about a house ? How much would there be 
 coming in per month, or by the year ? Had Grace or her 
 husband any sums put by in the post office, or elsewhere ? 
 Where did his folk live, and who and what were they ? 
 Had the families on both sides given approval ? Aunt 
 Eliza owned the qualities of a persistent barrister at the 
 Central Criminal Court in that, despite readiness for 
 intermittent sleep, she did not close eyes until a clear 
 answer had been obtained. The young man showed relief 
 when old days and old nights at the Britannia came up 
 for review. Aunt Eliza seemed to have belonged to the 
 triumphant days at the theatre in Hoxton, and the salaries 
 of her time — Aunt Eliza could not keep away from finance — 
 
24 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 were mentioned as two two a couple, or, if the performers 
 were not man and a wife, twenty-five bob on each Friday 
 evening. There had bden dreams and ambitions at this 
 period of being seen by some West-End manager, and of 
 offers from the St. James’s or the Olympic, but these never 
 arrived, and, instead, Mr. Reeves came along, and he, being 
 a licensed victualler, had Sunday afternoons free, and took 
 the young woman out in his dog ca^rt, Barnet way, paying 
 for a sumptuous tea, and fully rewarded if, on the home 
 journey, she declaimed one of his favourite passages from 
 the legitimate drama. Aunt Eliza gave in detail the 
 proposal offered by Mr. Reeves in the private room behind 
 his saloon bar on a Sunday evening when the demands of 
 custom summoned him frequently to the assistance of his 
 staff, and, having described the reluctant manner in which 
 she agreed to the wedding, closed her eyes once more. 
 Aunt Eliza re-opened one eye, and mentioned that a rule 
 laid down by her husband and followed by her. was that 
 in no circumstances should money be advanced, or cheques 
 exchanged. The younger couple talked in undertones. 
 
 “ We shall do well, Grace, to take some trouble to be 
 pleasant to the old lady.” 
 
 “ No trouble to me at all. I like her.” 
 
 “ What I mean is this,” explained Tom Bannerton. 
 “ If I get a fair allowance out of my mother — and there’s 
 no earthly reason why she shouldn’t listen to common 
 sense, and give me a share of what has come her way — 
 and if you can make it right with this aunt of yours, why, 
 we shall be as right as ninepence.” 
 
 “ Ninepence doesn’t go far.” 
 
 “ I hope she will see that it’s never too late to lend.” 
 “ It’s a great deal too early to start borrowing.” 
 
 “ My contention is that there are other ways of getting 
 money besides slaving for it. I’m in favour of taking life 
 easily.” 
 
 “ I like it,” she admitted, “ for a change. But I don’t 
 know that I want to go on with it. Habit isn’t easy to get 
 rid of.” 
 
 “ Three hundred a year ! ” he said definitely. “ That’s 
 all I want. I don’t ask for a penny more. Three hundred 
 per annum, and I snap my finger and thumb at the City, 
 
BANNEKTON’S AGENCY 
 
 25 
 
 or any other hive of industry. I know a chap who has got 
 
 less than that coming in, and he . But, I’m bound to 
 
 admit, he’s single.” She looked at him sharply. “ There,” 
 he went on with hurry, “ is of course where I get the pull 
 over him. Take your gloves off, little girl.” 
 
 “ My hands are not too presentable. Domestic work ” 
 
 “ I know, I know,” he remarked. “ But a few weeks of 
 doing nothing will put them all right.” Aunt Eliza awoke 
 once more and joined in with a quotation : 
 
 “ c Adieu, she cried, and waved her lily hand.’ Lord, 
 what a fine play 4 Black-eyed Susan ’ was to be sure ! A 
 pity they don’t revive it.” 
 
 “ Old fashioned,” suggested Tom Bannerton. 
 
 “ Ridiculous idea,” she declared. “ Nothing that’s good 
 is ever out of date.” 
 
 “ Perhaps you’re right,” he said. 
 
 “ I know I’m right,” retorted Aunt Eliza, “ and I can 
 prove it. But you needn’t give in so quickly. I like an 
 argument to last a decent while. Why sometimes at my 
 place of business I discuss a subject with my customers 
 over the counter for hours together.” 
 
 “ And get the better of it in the end, no doubt.” 
 
 “ Not always,” she contradicted. “ Some of my gentle- 
 men are amongst the deepest thinkers in Dalston. And if 
 you ask me, young man, I sh’d be inclined to say that 
 your main fault is that you’re somewhat superficial.” 
 
 “ Shall we get the coachman to turn back ? ” suggested 
 Grace. 
 
 There was polite competition on the arrival at the hotel 
 to pay for the outing ; Aunt Eliza gained in the contest 
 by the device of pushing Tom Bannerton to a garden seat. 
 She recommended that he should keep his money until he 
 found himself compelled to disburse it. 
 
 The fortnight passed off well. The weather behaved 
 admirably, and if, of an evening, there chanced to be rain, 
 the three agreed to visit the local theatre where they saw 
 enormous London successes in regard to which their 
 respective attitudes were fixed. Grace liked the produc- 
 tions, and could discover no fault in them. Tom Bannerton 
 was critical, and sometimes gave blame, sometimes cautious 
 
26 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 praise. Aunt Eliza said the performances were good 
 enough in their way, but she was unable to affect enthusi- 
 asm ; the players, in her view, mumbled their words, the 
 scenery erred on the side of over-elaboration, and the whole 
 affair lacked something for which she could not find a 
 name until in the drawing-room, where lady residents 
 considered and spoke of the behaviour of other lady resi- 
 dents, she overheard the word “ dignity.” Aunt Eliza 
 spoke with irony of the new methods that permitted folk 
 to go on the stage, direct from the pavement, without 
 giving themselves the trouble to do so much as change 
 their boots. For the rest, the three made no 
 friends, and required none. At intervals, Grace begged 
 her husband to go at once to the writing-room, take pen, 
 ink and paper, and send a communication to his mother ; 
 he always answered that the letter was one requiring 
 forethought, and a certain arrangement of adroit phrases, 
 and he guaranteed to fulfil the request so soon as he could 
 see his way clear to the composition of the right kind of 
 note. At the middle of the second week, Grace adopted a 
 more resolute tone. 
 
 “ Have you the cash to pay the hotel bill ? ” she demanded. 
 
 “ Candidly,” he answered, “ I haven’t. But it will 
 come out all right. By return of post. Don’t you worry, 
 dear girl.” 
 
 “ I’m going to worry,” she said. “ This is Wednesday 
 evening, and we leave on Saturday.” 
 
 “ Not necessarily.” 
 
 “ We leave on Saturday, and get back to London, and 
 see about neighbourhood and house and work, and every- 
 thing. You are to sit down now, and write the letter. 
 Time’s getting short.” 
 
 “ It can’t be so short, lady, as your manner.” 
 
 “ I’m beginning to find out,” retorted Grace, “ that it’s 
 necessary to raise my voice in speaking to you.” 
 
 He offered the note later for her inspection, and Grace 
 admitted she was unable to suggest an improvement ; the 
 fact remained that the news was of a kind which ought 
 to have been imparted earlier, and verbally. Her husband 
 said that if Grace knew his parent, she would realize the 
 difficulties which existed. “ The mater can be very 
 
27 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 blunt if she likes.” Grace mentioned that, in her opinion, 
 there .was much to be said in favour of this quality, and 
 also of sharpness. 
 
 The answer was expected at the earliest on Thursday 
 evening (but that meant promptitude), at the latest on 
 Friday morning. On Friday night, Grace and her husband 
 were in the entrance hall, waiting for the postman, and 
 prepared to sign for a registered letter. In his communica- 
 tion — after giving particulars of the marriage ceremony, 
 and excusing himself for the secrecy — Tom Bannerton 
 had referred to the immediate nefcd of, a bank note, cheque, 
 or money order, and this was rounded off by a delicate 
 allusion to the bequest received by his mother, and a 
 promise that her kindness should not fade from his memory ; 
 there was a vague hint of repayment. 
 
 “ I don’t like it,” said Grace restively. The two walked 
 to the open doors, and gazed down the crowded road. 
 “ It’s a new experience, and I tell you straight, it doesn’t 
 suit me.” 
 
 “ No good grounds for anxiety yet,” he urged. 
 
 “ Now what is the use of putting your head in the sand 
 like that ? ” 
 
 “ What’s the use of anticipating the worst ? ” 
 
 She touched his arm, as a reminder that the proprietress, 
 at her desk, had good abilities in hearing. He took her 
 hand, and held it. 
 
 “ Don’t let’s wrangle, Grace.” 
 
 “ I’m not keen on a row.” 
 
 “ If there are any troubles ahead,” he said manfully, 
 “ we must face them together.” 
 
 The postman arrived, bag over shoulder, and holding a 
 bundle of letters. Folk came from rooms, down staircases, 
 summoned each other from the lawn to be present at the 
 distribution. In the general eagerness of manner, Grace 
 and her husband put on an attitude of indifference, and 
 gazed at a map. of Essex on the walls. 
 
 “ Postcard for Mrs. Bannerton,” announced the pro- 
 prietress. 
 
 “ Thank you very much.” 
 
 “ And one letter for Mr. Bannerton. And that’s the 
 sum total ! ” 
 
28 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 The postcard was from Grace’s younger brother, and 
 conveyed the news that Edmund had been to see the 
 torpedo boats and submarines on view in the Thames, from 
 the Tower to the Houses of Parliament ; it also mentioned 
 that Bleriot had managed to cross the Channel in his 
 aeroplane, doing the journey in the remarkably short time 
 of one hour and a half. 
 
 “ Come outside,” whispered Grace’s husband, per- 
 turbedly. “ Here’s something we shall have to consider.” 
 
 “ Anything wrong ? ” 
 
 “ Everything. The mater has sent back my letter. 
 Sent it back without a single word, or any kind of remit- 
 tance.” When they were clear of the hotel, he threw out 
 his arms with a dramatic gesture. “ Ruin,” ]}e quoted 
 emotionally, “ upon ruin, rout on rout, confusion worse 
 confounded ! ” 
 
 They took free seats on the parade. They gave attention 
 to the envelope and its contents, searching carefully. 
 
 “ Look here ! ” said Grace, “ I shall have to draw out of 
 the savings bank. That will take a few days.” 
 
 “ Have you enough, dear girl ? ” 
 
 “ More than enough.” 
 
 “ I don’t care for the idea of taking your money. Why 
 not borrow from your stout relative ? ” 
 
 “ Comes to the same,” she retorted impatiently. “ And 
 I’m not going to beg from Aunt Eliza. She might refuse. 
 Besides which, I don’t want all my relatives to know that 
 
 “ I quite agree,” he said readily. “ Have you got your 
 post-office book here with you ? ” 
 
 “ It’s in my box at Rydon Crescent. I shall have to send 
 the key to Edmund, and ask him to forward it on.” 
 
 “ But surely this means your people will hear about it. 
 That, if you will let me say so, is quite impossible. I can’t 
 allow it. There’s my reputation to be considered.” 
 
 “ Think of a better plan, then.” 
 
 “ It wouldn’t be easy to think of a worse.” 
 
 They were a sober-featured couple that evening, in 
 approaching their table, and the animation of other guests 
 deepened their attitude of reserve. Aunt Eliza had not 
 yet appeared. The proprietress, intercepting them, handed 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 29 
 
 them an envelope, with an agreeable smile. “ Your bill, 
 Mr. Bannerton.” At the table, he wrenched open the flap, 
 with the air of one prepared to know the worst. 
 
 “ Well, children,” said Aunt Eliza. She took her chair, 
 and beamed on them. “ Bright, ain’t it ? I’ve been 
 resting, so as to get a appetite for my dinner. What you 
 think of your wedding present ? ” 
 
 “ Don’t quite follow you,” said Tom Bannerton, puzzled. 
 “ I see no catch,” she explained, “ in giving young people 
 ornaments for the household that may not be to their taste. 
 So I looked in at the office here, and I asked for your 
 account, and I paid it. That’s the receipt you’ve got in 
 your hand.” Aunt Eliza turned to the waiter. “ Thick 
 soup, George, and mind it’s hot. Otherwise, me and you 
 won’t be on speaking terms ! ” 
 
 The young couple walked, hand in hand, on the parade. 
 
 “ I was sure,” declared Tom Bannerton, “ that we should 
 find ourselves on clover if we just trusted to chance.” 
 
 “ I’d sooner,” she declared, “ trust anything but that ! ” 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 A CROWD of returning holiday-makers at the seaside 
 station : the youthful, brown of face and neck and 
 openly bewailing the necessity of giving up exhilar- 
 ating days at the seaside, and of taking once more the 
 round of life in town ; their elders inspecting accounts, and 
 mentioning to each other that landladies seemed to forget 
 nothing. Children went up and down the platform, 
 tugging at automatic machines in the hope that sweetmeats 
 would be presented without the formality of putting a 
 copper in the slot, and were hunted and captured by mothers 
 who gave solemn assurances that never again, so long as 
 they lived, would they take the youngsters away from 
 home. Tom Bannerton and Grace stood at the bookstall, 
 glancing at contents of the shelves. It appeared they had 
 not yet recovered from the shock created bv imminence of 
 financial danger at the hotel. 
 
 “ Care for a book to read ? ” he asked deferentially. 
 
 “ I want to think,” she answered. 
 
 “ About me ? ” 
 
 “ About myself.” 
 
 “ You could scarcely fix on a more attractive subject.” 
 For the first time, the effort to induce Grace to smile did not 
 achieve complete triumph. The train arrived, and in the 
 third-class compartment he took his note-book, and wrote 
 with every sign of concentration and deep thought. The 
 page filled, he detached it, and handed it across to her ; 
 other passengers watched with undisguised curiosity. 
 The slip was headed, “ People to borrow from, if necessary,” 
 and contained six names. Grace tore it into several pieces, 
 and allowed them to fly from the carriage window. 
 
 30 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 31 
 
 At an intermediate station a traveller entered. He 
 apologized for intruding on a compartment already filled to 
 the limit stated in the notice below the racks. 
 
 “ Old lad ! ” cried Tom Bannerton joyously, “ how 
 gpes it ? ” 
 
 “ And doth not a meeting like this make amends ? ” 
 said the other with cordiality. 
 
 “ Allow me to have the inexpressible happiness of intro- 
 ducing you to my wife. Grace, this is Mr. Hedley, of 
 Leadenhall Street. 5 ’ 
 
 On passengers grudgingly making room, the new-comer 
 sat next to Grace, and declared this was an enormous piece 
 of news, and so unexpected that he could for the moment 
 scarcely realize it. Having recovered from surprise, Mr. 
 Hedley, to Grace’s relief, made no further allusion to the 
 matter, put no inquiries, and passengers scowled at him 
 because he, with great want of consideration for them, 
 lowered his voice ; Tom Bannerton leaned forward, and 
 the three heads made a bunch. 
 
 “ Still doing all right in City Road ? ” asked Hedley. 
 
 “ Doing fine,” answered Tom Bannerton. 
 
 “ Good ! ” 
 
 “ I’ve left it.” 
 
 “ And,” he suggested, “ you’ve got something better, 
 then ? ” 
 
 “ At present,” answered Tom Bannerton, “ I am a 
 gentleman, with private means.” 
 
 “ And what,” asked Hedley — “ if you don’t mind the 
 question — what do they amount to ? ” 
 
 “ Something is bound to happen.” 
 
 “ Not much doubt concerning that,” interposed Grace 
 quickly. “ And there’s no doubt at all in regard to what 
 will happen.” 
 
 “ Can’t we,” he said, with a touch of uneasiness, “ dis- 
 cover some other topic for conversation ? ” 
 
 “ It’s the only one that’s in my mind.” 
 
 “ Bannerton,” said Hedley, folding his news journal 
 with precision, “ you will forgive me if I mention in the 
 presence of madam that you and I have talked of this 
 matter before. We are acquainted with each other’s 
 opinions. If I recollect exactly, I got for you the City Road 
 
32 
 
 BANNEKTON’S AGENCY 
 
 berth. I told you to stick to it. I promised your mother 
 to keep an eye on you. When you see her next 5 9 
 
 “ That encounter won’t occur. The mater has taken up 
 an attitude towards me that I’m not going to forget, or to 
 pardon.” 
 
 “ Sorry to hear that. Whose fault ? ” 
 
 “ Mine,” said Grace. Hedley did not go on with the 
 subject. “ Advise him, please, what to do.” 
 
 “ What I think is that he ought to do anything. Any- 
 thing in the world he can do, and do it with all his might.” 
 Hedley turned his newspaper and found a column on an 
 advertisement page. “ Look at all these demands for help, 
 and brains, and capability.” He handed the journal across, 
 and Tom Bannerton sitting back,, affected to read. “ You 
 see, Mrs. Bannerton,” confidentially, “ he mustn’t expect 
 to be always led about by the arm as though he had lost his 
 eyesight. Hitherto, I’ve taken some trouble with him, 
 but I don’t know that I’m inclined to go on at the job until 
 the crack of doom. For one thing, I’ve got my own career 
 to look after. I assure you that’s a job which, in these 
 days, takes up a man’s time pretty completely. He must 
 strike out for himself.” Hedley took a new metaphor. 
 
 “ It’s time he learnt to swim.” 
 
 “ Anyway, I’m resigning the job of instructor. If it 
 has to be taken on by some one, I’m afraid it comes on to 
 you.” 
 
 “ Do you think,” asked Grace earnestly, “ that he’d 
 float if he were left alone ? ” 
 
 “ My own opinion,” answered Hedley, “ given for what it 
 happens to be worth, is that, left alone, he’d drown. But, 
 mind you, I may be wrong, In any case, I like him so 
 much that I hope I’m wrong. Fortunately, he’s not alone 
 now.” 
 
 “ Mr. Hedley. Tell me something. What is his mother 
 like ? ” 
 
 “ There are two methods of bringing up a boy,” said 
 Hedley. “ The right and the wrong. To make certain, 
 she has tried each plan alternately.” There was a pause. 
 
 “ I ought to have known more about him,” confessed 
 Grace, “ beforehand.” 
 
 “ Most people wouldn’t go in for marriage unless it were 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 33 
 
 a bit of a gamble. And if wishing you well, Mrs. Bannerton, 
 makes any difference ” 
 
 “ It’s kind of you,” she said. “ Just now, my impression 
 is that I should be wise not to take any further risks.” 
 
 “ You can’t back out,” he urged. 
 
 “ Why shouldn’t I ? ” 
 
 Tom Bannerton returned the journal, and mentioned 
 that he had taken note of suitable vacancies. Speaking to 
 Grace, he referred to Hedley as a breathless sprinter ; one 
 who was ever rushing here, there, and everywhere. He 
 submitted that those who went deliberately, and with a 
 fixed idea of the objective, were sometimes the first to 
 breast the tape. Hedley, as the train neared Fenchurch 
 Street, * confirmed the description of himself by collecting 
 his property, shaking hands with Grace with an excuse for 
 swift departure ; turning the door handle when the plat- 
 form offered itself, he leapt out and succeeded in being well 
 placed amongst the travellers who gained the race to the 
 barrier. 
 
 “ My friend Hedley,” said Tom, “ always makes me want 
 to put up my coat collar.” 
 
 Grace was walking ahead. This criticism of an active 
 man jarred. “ Dear girl,” he begged, “ do wait for me. 
 Please!” 
 
 “ There’s an alternative open to you.” 
 
 “ Explain.” 
 
 “ You can make some attempt,” she remarked, over her 
 shoulder, “ to keep pace with me. Whilst we’re to- 
 gether.” 
 
 Outside the building she turned to the right. He called 
 to her once more. 
 
 “ Do you know where yo\i are going ? ” he inquired 
 amusedly. “ Have you any idea ? ” 
 
 “ I’ve got special information on the subject.” 
 
 “ Share it with me ! ” 
 
 City folk glanced at them, as they faced each other ; 
 only the demands of business, never so imperative as in the 
 morning hours, arrested the forming of a circle to watch the 
 argument. 
 
 “ I,” she said deliberately, “ if you must know, am going 
 to a district I’m well acquainted with.” 
 
 3 
 
34 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 “ Not a bad idea. I’ll make my way to Bloomsbury, and 
 get rooms in an hotel. ” 
 
 “ You needn’t trouble so far as I’m concerned. I don’t 
 like this manner of depending on nothing ; I’m not used to 
 it, and it don’t suit me.” 
 
 “ But all this,” he stammered, “ all this is too — too 
 ridiculous for words.” 
 
 “ That’s how it strikes you. My view is different.” 
 They had to edge to a shop window in order to escape the 
 rush of business men. “ And you must understand that 
 we’re not having a quarrel. When you set to work, and 
 provide a home, all there is to do is to send me a line. It 
 isn’t much of a catch, I can tell you, to return to ” 
 
 She could not finish. Tom Bannerton glanced about 
 him perplexedly, and seemed inclined to request a City 
 constable to give advice. 
 
 “ Grace,” he said firmly, “ I am not going to permit 
 this.” 
 
 “ You can’t stop it,” she declared. 
 
 The attendant at the shop came out with sea-faring men, 
 who had been attracted by goods in the window, and were 
 not inclined to be fobbed off with something almost identical 
 from the shelves within. Grace moved ; the group inter- 
 posed momentarily between her husband and herself. On 
 the instant, she gripped at her case, and flew towards the 
 main thoroughfare. 
 
 Once at the Bank, she felt as safe as that institution, and 
 a Muswell Hill omnibus scarcely gave tipae for the gaining 
 of breath ere it pulled up at the corner of Princes Street. 
 There was no stress of traffic south to north, and as the 
 omnibus went the conductor was able, first to order that the 
 leather case should be taken inside, on the reasonable 
 excuse that he had not fifty thousand pair of eyes, and that 
 if anything chanced to be lost, the blame would be imputed 
 to him, and to him alone. Ere they reached Moorgate 
 Street, he relaxed austerity. The case, he now said, could 
 be placed in his charge, and underneath the stairs ; the 
 conductor argued so strongly in favour of this plan, on the 
 grounds of safety and general comfort, that Grace com- 
 plied. At South Place, two elderly men, climbing in with 
 difficulty asked to be allowed to occupy seats near the 
 
BANNEBTON’S AGENCY 
 
 35 
 
 entrance ; Grace willingly took a place at the other end. 
 The two left at the Angel, where they demanded and received 
 help ; the incoming passengers acted on the orders given, 
 and remarked sympathetically that it was hard lines to be 
 so greatly hampered in getting about ; as the omnibus 
 went along High Street, folk talked of the inconvenience 
 of age* physical disability, want of cash. Grace wished she 
 had offered to pay the fares of the two. It was unusual for 
 her to miss an opportunity for small actions of charity, and 
 she took blame for being so much absorbed in her own 
 affairs. 
 
 “ Poor old chaps,” she remarked, contributing to the 
 discussion. “ I lay they find it pretty difficult to make a 
 living.” 
 
 “ Makes you wonder,” agreed another, “ how such people 
 manage to exist.” 
 
 A partial solution came when Grace rose, and, pulling 
 the string, made her way along with a nod of farewell. 
 The conductor, appealed to, declared first that he had never 
 seen the leather case ; second, that Grace should have kept 
 it under her personal control, and third (on a fare mention- 
 ing that he had seen the two decrepit old gentlemen go off 
 with the case, sharing the task of holding it) that he had a 
 kind of a sort of a notion, directly the two stepped on, that 
 they were out for no good. 
 
 “ Anyway,” said the conductor, summing up, “it’s gone 
 all right enough, and I s’pose we ought to be thankful they 
 didn’t pinch the wheels off the bloomin’ bus as well.” He 
 called out to the distressed girl that there would be no 
 harm, and he rather suspected no advantage, in trotting off 
 to the police station. 
 
 She found herself near to Jarford’s Bazaar, and decided 
 that cook was the person to whom the succession of regret- 
 table incidents could be described, and that old Mrs. Jarford, 
 too, in giving a hearty welcome, was likely to be useful in 
 starting the mechanism necessary for the recovery of the 
 case. A touch at the bell knob at the side door of the 
 establishment brought the comforting sound of footsteps 
 descending the narrow staircase ; Grace recognized the one 
 stair that always creaked. It was good, after seaside hotels, 
 and anxious moments concerning pounds, shillings and 
 
36 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 pence, to be near something like home, and close to folk 
 well known and understandable. 
 
 “ My dear,” cried old Mrs. Jarford with a gesture of 
 astonishment, “ it’s never you.” 
 
 “ It’s me,” admitted Grace. 
 
 “ Can you spare the time to come upstairs, and have a 
 chat, and give me all your news ? ” 
 
 “ My principal news is that I want to come back here, and 
 take up my former situation.” 
 
 “ Now this,” said Mrs,. Jarford exultantly, “ does indeed 
 make my dreams come true.” She led the way, talking 
 to the wall-paper. “ Wants to come back here, and take up 
 her former situation. Fancy that now. Who’d have 
 imagined it ? Isn’t it a funny world, when you come to 
 think of it ? ” Upstairs, as she pushed the door of the 
 sitting-room, Grace made an allusion to a desire to see cook. 
 “ Nevermind about her,” said Mrs. Jarford lightly, “ she’s 
 nobody.” 
 
 Grace, beginning with the most recent occurrence, was 
 told that Mr. Jarford was the one person to see to the matter 
 of the leather case ; he had something more than a passing 
 acquaintance with all inspectors and most sergeants, who 
 would, in Mrs. Jarford’s phrase, hunt over London in order 
 to find the missing article. Mr. Jarford took an interest in 
 crime, and had, more than once, nearly given useful hints 
 to the authorities. To comfort Grace, the old lady gave a 
 selection from her own reminiscences, which included the 
 discovery of a fourpenny bit on Margate Sands station, in 
 August of ’75, and the loss of a smaller sum in a later and 
 less fortunate year, due to a hole in her skirt pocket. This 
 over, and a protest made against the recommendation that 
 Mr. Jarford should be asked to take measures without 
 delay 
 
 “ As much as my life is worth to disturb my son when he’s 
 busy downstairs.” 
 
 Then Mrs. Jarford began, with relish, to conduct a brisk 
 examination in chief, rolling about presently with content 
 on finding that Grace had left her husband, and pooh- 
 poohing the reservation that the parting was but of a 
 temporary nature, decided upon in order to stimulate Mr. 
 Bannerton to industry. Mrs. Jarford said everything was 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 37 
 
 turning out just as she had foreseen all along. People who 
 reached her time of life had the remarkable help afforded 
 by experience, and were, therefore, able to see much 
 further through a brick wall than could those with a less 
 considerable knowledge of the world. If Mrs. Jarford had 
 any blame to take, it was that she had omitted to warn 
 Grace, but that was an oversight for which she felt willing 
 to pardon herself. 
 
 “Oh, for goodness’ sake,” begged the old lady, with a show 
 of impatience at a repeated question, “ do leave off asking 
 about cook. I’m perfectly sick of the very name of cook. 
 It’s ‘ Cook used to do this,’ and c Cook used to give us that 5 
 until I’m just about ” 
 
 “ Has cook left ? ” asked Grac.e apprehensively. 
 
 “ Cook, I am most happy to say, has packed her box, 
 and gone.” 
 
 The announcement caused the girl to move suddenly 
 towards the window ; she did not care that anybody should 
 know how acutely the news touched her. The one hopeful 
 prospect in all the tangle had been that a good confessing 
 talk with her former colleague would elicit words of 
 approval, words of advice, words of optimism. Mrs. 
 Jarford went on speaking, and for a while failed to observe 
 that the girl was not listening. 
 
 “ Now, I’ve got to tell it you all over afresh,” she com- 
 plained. It did not occur to the old lady that it never was 
 her habit to be content with a single recital of any fact. 
 “ Do heark to what I’m saying, Grace. I’ve picked out two 
 at the registry office, They’re coming here to-day to see if 
 they are likely to suit. One cook, one- half housemaid 
 half companion. If you care to stay on, you can see how I 
 deal with ’em. It’ll be an education to you. And if, by 
 chance, I’m not satisfied with either, why, you, Grace, you 
 shall have the next call. I don’t suppose you mind which 
 job you take on, and to do you justice, you are capable of 
 performing one as well as the other. I’m sure that when 
 you used to take charge of preparing a lunch, my son always 
 offered compliments. By the by, won’t he be surprised 
 when he hears about you and your husband ? ” 
 
 “ I’m sorry,” declared Grace, trembling ; “ I’d forgotten 
 about Mr. J arford. I don’t want to be near him again. On 
 
38 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 second thoughts, I don’t think I’ll come back here. I’ll 
 find another place. Good-bye. Sorry to have troubled 
 you.” 
 
 Mrs. Jarford was not of those who make a gradual change 
 of attitude in order to preserve a reputation for consistency. 
 Short of going down on one knee, she now made every 
 appeal. Grace could have immediate choice of the two 
 vacant berths. Grace, from the security of Upper Street, 
 would dictate to her husband, and might count, in this 
 regard, on the whole-hearted support of Mrs. Jarford. 
 
 “ Look here,” said Grace, “ I’m wasting time. You must 
 let me run along to the police station. I ought to have done 
 that first.” 
 
 Mrs. Jarford, with an activity wholly unsuitable to her 
 years, hastened down to the bazaar. She returned with 
 her son, who said in a gloomy, non-committal way : 
 
 “ Well, Grace. We meet again, then ! ” 
 
 And listened to the instructions given, nodding to show 
 that the orders were comprehended. 
 
 The two walked in silence to the police station, with Mr. 
 Jarford sighing deeply at intervals. Once he attempted 
 his exasperating trick of stroking her arm, but a sharp look 
 from Grace stopped him. At the steps of the building he 
 said, “ Men at some time are masters of their fate,” and 
 Grace remarked, “ Dare say that is so.” The Inspector was 
 not in, but the sergeant in charge expected him to return 
 shortly, and Grace and Mr. Jarford took chairs, and waited. 
 
 “ Haven’t known what it is to have a good night’s rest,” 
 he remarked, “ ever since you went away. That, in itself, 
 mind you, is a pretty serious matter.” She agreed. “ What 
 would happen to my business if I became a. victim to 
 insomnia ? ” Grace could not give an opinion. “ But if 
 what Ma tells me is true, I can see no reason why you and I, 
 Grace, should not together share our sorrows and double 
 our joys.” 
 
 “ Go and ask again about your Inspector friend.” 
 
 “ Your so-called husband,” argued Mr. Jarford, “ was 
 never worthy of you.” She made a gesture of dissent, 
 and he held up a forefinger to indicate that he expected 
 silence, and close attention. “ He was what is called an 
 initial error. I may also describe him as a passing fancy. 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 39 
 
 From what Ma says, I gather that he lacks the element of 
 industry, and if I may speak without undue conceit, I 
 think I can say that this quality I possess in the highest 
 ' degree. Commercial travellers have often alluded to it ; 
 it has been mentioned, in print, in the local newspaper.” 
 
 44 That ought to settle it.” 
 
 44 Grace, I am pleased to hear you say so. What I want 
 to hint at is, that if by any legal means — I know a solicitor 
 friend who can advise me on the subject for next to nothing 
 — if by any proper and authorized scheme you can get rid of 
 Mr. Bannerton, why, the offer I once made to you remains 
 as honest and as truthful and as straightforward as it was 
 on the day I tendered it. Have I said enough ? ” He took 
 hold of her wrist, and she jerked herself free. 
 
 44 You always say too much. What you don’t under- 
 stand, Mr. Jarford, is that I love my husband.” 
 
 44 But I take it you don’t want to see him again.” 
 
 44 I’d like,” she declared impulsively, 44 to see him now.” 
 
 Few aspirations have met with such prompt compliance. 
 The Inspector entered, talking to somebody behind him 
 — 44 You give us a full description, and we’ll do the best we 
 can to find the lady, if she’s about anywhere ” — and whilst 
 the Inspector shook hands with Mr. Jarford and asked 
 tenderly concerning the welfare of business, his companion 
 gave an ejaculation of delight, and held out arms for an 
 embrace. 
 
 44 My dearest girl ! ” he cried. 
 
 44 Tom ! ” 
 
 44 All my fault,” he asserted. 44 But how on earth we 
 missed sight of each other down there near Fenchurch 
 
 Street I say, I want my lunch. What about you, 
 
 Gracie ? ” They went out of the police station without the 
 formality of saying good- bye to the other two. 44 The 
 queerest coincidence,” declared Tom Bannerton. 44 1 
 looking for you, and you looking for me, and both meeting 
 by the purest chance. Of course, I knew you’d make for 
 this neighbourhood. Let’s go along West and eat raven- 
 ously, and forget all about it.” At the topmost step of the 
 police station, he kissed her. 44 Bless the dear heart ! ” 
 he whispered. 
 
 At lunch in a restaurant in Oxford Street ( 44 It’s all 
 
40 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 right,” he explained. “ I met that friend of my mother’s, 
 Watherston, and he insisted on lending me a sovereign”) 
 the matter of the leather case was mentioned, and Tom at 
 once exempted her from all blame ; he pointed out that, but 
 for this, the happy encounter might have been retarded. 
 They were rather late for the midday meal, and a pleasant 
 young waiter of foreign birth was able to give them all his 
 care and attention. At the beginning of the lunch, Grace 
 had decided to state again, with added frankness* her 
 reasons for the escape ; at the fruit salad period she told 
 herself that there was no need for this. For whereas, at an 
 earlier stage of the day it had seemed that her husband had 
 no prospects of occupation, and desired non^, the trouble 
 now was that he had too many and the task of selection was 
 not easy. Mr. Watherston, happened on by chance, had 
 not only lent gold, but had given advice. Also, he brought 
 news of Tom Bannerton’s mother. 
 
 “ The mater,” announced Grace’s husband tolerantly, 
 “is upset. Annoyed. Cross. Disgruntled. There’s no 
 doubt concerning that. We,” here he spoke determinedly, 
 “ have got to face the facts, and there’s no use, Grace, in 
 blinking them.” 
 
 “ I’m with you there. What I felt afraid of was that you 
 
 were somewhat inclined ” 
 
 “ But Watherston — this old buffer I’m referring to — he 
 said, and I think he was absolutely right, that the mater 
 would turn round and cry, ‘ Bless you, my infants,’ so soon 
 as she recognized that we were making ourselves inde- 
 pendent. If the mater is allowed to think we are knocking 
 at her door, and begging for a crust, she will refuse to answer. 
 But let her once see that we don’t care a hang whether she 
 gives us the crust, or whether she makes it into bread and 
 butter pudding, and she’ll go straight to her cheque book, 
 and enable us to open a banking account, and buy furniture, 
 and set up a house of our own.” 
 
 “ What is Mr. Watherston ? ” 
 
 “ A sort of a commission agent in the city.” 
 
 “ Sounds respectable,” she conceded. 
 
 “ He wouldn’t like to hear you call him that,” said her 
 husband. “ He is supposed to be rather a ladies’ man.” 
 
 “ I don’t quite understand,” 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 41 
 
 “ I mean nothing more than that he has a very per- 
 suasive way with women. I remember the time when I 
 used to try to model myself on him. But the question I am 
 coming to is this.” He called the waiter. “ A cigar.” 
 
 “ And the price, sare ? ” 
 
 “ Best you’ve got.” He turned once more to Grace. 
 “ I want your help, dear girl.” 
 
 “ Whatever I can do ” 
 
 “ Quite so. Now I am going to write on four slips of 
 paper.” He found a pencil, and the envelope which had 
 brought back the letter addressed to his mother. “ There ! 
 Now I shuffle them. You shut your eyes, and take one.” 
 
 “ Tell me something about the game,” she urged. 
 
 “ It’s simply this,” said her young husband triumphantly. 
 “ Watherston’s suggestions concerning my future career are 
 marked down here. The one you pick out is the one to 
 which I shall devote myself.” 
 
 ‘ That isn’t the way to settle important matters.” 
 
 “ Very well then,” resignedly, “ I’m in no hurry. We’ll 
 put off the consideration until next week.” 
 
 “ Y^e’ll settle it now,” decided Grace. 
 
 Grace was examining the slips of paper intently when the 
 waiter brought coffee. She set one aside. 
 
 “ Dot’s the best,” said the young waiter, at her shoulder. 
 Obviously he belonged to a nation which had pliable rules 
 of deportment. “You haf pick out the finest.” 
 
 “ Which is that ? ” asked Tom Bannerton. 
 
 “ The agency office,” replied Grace. 
 
 “ I feel a bent in that direction myself,” he said. “ It 
 has possibilities.” 
 
 The waiter had a remarkable tale to offer, slightly clouded 
 by moments when gesture had to take the place of words. 
 So far as could be gathered, an acquaintance of his set up 
 an establishment Charing Cross Road way, and called it a 
 bureau. The bureau made one or two essays which could 
 not be reckoned as successes ; eventually took up the busi- 
 ness of a Waiters’ Exchange, and the owner now rode in his 
 1 own motor-car, and took lady friends to Richmond on 
 Sunday afternoons. 
 
 “ And he only I-talian,” said the waiter. He went off to 
 fetch the bill. 
 
42 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 “ I leave it to you, Grace,” announced Tom Bannerton, 
 generously. “ You’re as much concerned in the matter as 
 I am, and it’s only fair you should have your say.” 
 
 She thought hard ; one fist pressed against the other. 
 
 “ Let’s try it,” she said. 
 
 “ Good. Then, in the course oia week or two ” 
 
 “ We’ll see about it at once. Now. Get your hat and 
 stick.” 
 
 They arrived, tired and contented, that night at the 
 Bloomsbury hotel where a room had been engaged. Grace 
 found writing-paper, and induced her husband to send a 
 note to Mr. Watherston announcing the results of the day’s 
 work. She herself wrote three letters : one to her brother 
 Robert: one to Mr. Hedley, of Leadenhall Street; one 
 to a firm in Endell Street, Long Acre, asking to be furnished 
 with estimate of the cost of a brass plate, two feet by 
 eighteen inches bearing the words “ Bannerton’ s Agency,” 
 and to be fixed on the door of business premises Number 
 Seventeen, Churton Street, N. 
 
 The hall porter supplied four stamps, and was kind 
 enough to agree that payment could be deferred until the 
 morrow. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 HE new office at Churton Street had an allurement 
 
 for Grace which she did not attempt to disguise. 
 Her husband urged that the great mistake in these affairs 
 of business was committed on the side of impetuosity, 
 and assuredly, so far as he was concerned, there seemed 
 no disposition to make the blunder ; his argument did not 
 prevent her from leaving the hotel each morning soon after 
 breakfast, and taking tram-car from near to the fire station 
 in Theobald’s Road. The head representative of Collet & 
 Co., Office Furnishers and General Decorators, declared at 
 the start, with great courtesy, that it whs always a pleasure 
 to be dealing with a young lady who knew her own mind ; 
 later Collet & Co. seemed less definite on this point, but 
 gave compliments to the sex for a remarkable addition in 
 intelligence during recent years ; Collet excluded from his 
 approval the few now making a rare old hullabaloo outside 
 the Houses of Parliament, and elsewhere, with a view to 
 gaining the right to vote. 
 
 “ But I’m perfectly and absolutely certain, madam,” 
 said Collet, “ that you’ve got no kind of sympathy whatever 
 with that lot.” He waved his arm, as though to sweep the 
 reforming women into the roadway. 
 
 “ I’m not so sure.” 
 
 “ It may be,” hedging, “ that they’ve got a point of 
 view. If they’d only say what it is exactly that they 
 want ” 
 
 “ What I want,” interrupted Grace, “ is a little more 
 energy put into this job.” She nodded to the Churton 
 Street window, where the firm’s board still mentioned that 
 alterations were being carried out. 
 
 “ Your husband,” said Collet, with deference, “ on looking 
 
 43 
 
44 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 in yesterday adopted a more reasonable view. When it 
 was pointed out to him that, with several contracts in hand, 
 it was necessary to shift the men occasionally from one 
 task to another in order that all parties should be kept in 
 a good temper, your worthy partner recognized the force 
 of the contention at once.” 
 
 “ Take no notice,” ordered Grace, 44 of anything my : 
 worthy partner says. Attend to the orders of his worthy | 
 wife. So far as I can judge, there’s been precious little -■:] 
 done here in the past twenty-four hours.” 
 
 44 To tell you the truth, madam,” said Collet frankly, j 
 44 not a hand’s stroke. I’m afraid, if you’ll allow me to say 
 so, that you don’t quite realize that we can’t perform 
 impossibilities.” 
 
 44 Why not have a try ? ” 
 
 44 Furthermore, I am bound to say it doesn’t agree with 
 my chaps to have a young lady like yourself in and out 
 here pretty nigh every hour of the day, harassing them 
 
 and worrying them, and pestering them, and ” Collet & 
 
 seemed to think another phrase remained to be discovered, 
 but gave up the search. 
 
 44 You tell your chaps,” said Grace , 44 that there’s one way, r 
 and one way only, of putting a stop to that.” 
 
 44 Pray name it, madam.” 
 
 44 Finish the job ! ” 
 
 Either of their own free will, or as a result of close super- *, 
 vision, Collet’s men did increase the speed, and when the 1 
 foreman at half-past twelve on Saturday morning said to 
 Grace Banner ton with obvious relief — as the rest cleared 
 up shavings, and took the board from the window, and 
 loaded a hand truck — 44 Well, that’s made an end of that ! ” 
 then Grace offered with some hesitation money for refresh- 
 ment, which was promptly accepted, and the foreman asked ; 
 to be allowed to wish her the finest of good luck. As a 
 consequence of the disbursement of two shillings, she had 
 to go without lunch, but this mattered the less because a 
 van drove up with articles of office furniture, and Grace : 
 filled in some pleasant hours in arranging them ; to add 
 to her enjoyment, the brass plate came from Endell Street 
 in the charge of an elderly workman, slightly exhilarated, 
 but this did not prevent him from using a screw- driver very 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 45 
 
 capably, and be needed help only in getting the brass plate 
 squarely fixed. “ You’ve got a straight eye,” he said. 
 “ Tell me what you think of this. Honest, and* fair, and 
 straightfor’ard ! ” He gave a detailed account of his 
 progress in life since leaving school, and offered a tribute to 
 the circumstance that, when issuing commands in the bars 
 of licensed premises, he always knew when he had taken 
 enough. With a few strenuous words of contempt for 
 teetotallers, he left. 
 
 A piece of chamois leather borrowed from the tobacconist 
 next door, and the free use of her right arm made the brass 
 plate shine, and the tobacconist said approvingly that you 
 could see your face in it. Tom Bannerton had promised to 
 meet her here at half-past two ; it was now four o’clock, and 
 the delay seemed nothing more than his customary lack 
 of precision. Grace went upstairs, where a few articles, 
 purchased during the week, did their best to give the apart- 
 ments the semblance of living-rooms. The bed had come 
 from Rydon Crescent. The- easy chair was an unexpected 
 gift from Edmund. The strips of carpet had been knocked 
 down to Grace at the end of an evening auction sale near 
 by - 
 
 “ Makes a beginning,” she remarked, looking around 
 contentedly. 
 
 The tobacconist’s wife apologized for intruding, and 
 delivered a brief lecture on the etiquette of Londoners, and 
 their studious aloofness in regard to neighbours ; she 
 feared her action appeared unconventional, but folk had to 
 accept her as she happened to, or, in the alternative, leave 
 her alone. Here she was, paying an early call, her expressed 
 desire being to see whether one could be of any assistance ; 
 ..incidentally the neighbour seemed ready to accept confi- 
 dences. She was supplied with but a few, and these had 
 the merit of invention, and Grace asked for the loan of an 
 overall. The tobacconist’s wife complied readily and was 
 asking more questions concerning love, courtship and mar- 
 riage when Grace mentioned that she expected her husband 
 at any moment ; the other professed great horror that any 
 strange gentleman should see her in hair curlers, and flew, 
 as though to save her life. Immediately afterwards, a 
 knock came at the office door below, which the neighbour 
 
46 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 had closed in leaving, and Grace, preparing a new statement 
 for keeping the tobacconist’s wife at something more than 
 arm’s length, went downstairs. 
 
 “ I,’ 9 said the new caller, closing her sunshade, and 
 speaking in the tones of one making an impressive announce- 
 ment, “ I am Mrs. Bannertoni” 
 
 “ So am I,” said Grace. The stout lady either did not 
 hear, or did not appreciate the intention of the remark. 
 
 • “ Is your mistress in ? ” she demanded. “ Or your 
 master ? ” 
 
 “ He will be here soon. Won’t you step u^ ? ” 
 
 The lady considered for a moment. A slight inclination 
 of the head signified that the idea was favoured. 
 
 “ Are you alone ? ” she inquired. “ Because^ if so,” she 
 found her purse, “ there may be the time for you to give me 
 information.” They entered the front room. “ I have 
 gained some particulars from Mr. Watherston, a trusted 
 
 acquaintance of mine, but there are one or two matters ” 
 
 She pressed half a crown into Grace’s hand. 
 
 “ This all for me ? ” asked the girl amusedly. 
 
 “ In return for it, I want you to tell me whether the 
 young people quarrel.” 
 
 “ Not more than most people.” 
 
 “ Ho they ever discuss me ? I am his mother, you 
 understand.” 
 
 “ I have heard you spoken of.” 
 
 “ And in what terms, please ? ” 
 
 There was a pause. 
 
 “ This wouldn’t be a bad game,” said Grace candidly, “ if 
 only I could keep my features straight. As it is, I’d better 
 let you know at once that I’m Tom’s wife.” 
 
 There was an awkward pause. 
 
 “ My mistake,” said the other, “ is, in the circumstances, 
 excusable.” 
 
 “ I’m not blaming you.” 
 
 There was once a Queen who had the habit of inspecting 
 those presented to her in complete silence for a few minutes, 
 with paralysing results to all who possessed nerves. The 
 elder Mrs. Bannerton, herself a contemporary of the august 
 personage referred to, adopted the same method, but the 
 consequences were less effective. Grace busied herself in 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 47 
 
 the room, and showed no hurry to open the debate. In 
 passing near the mantelpiece, she set the half-crown there. 
 The visitor noted the action. 
 
 “ It may interest you to know,” she remarked, “ that 
 that is the last penny you will ever get from me.” 
 
 “ I didn’t ask you for this. Anything else you want to 
 say ? ” 
 
 “ I know my boy a great deal better than you do, and I 
 can perhaps tell you some of his faults that you have not 
 yet discovered.” 
 
 “ I shall find them out, as time goes on.” 
 
 “ He is disposed to be indolent,” announced the elder 
 Mrs. Bannerton. 
 
 “ I know.” 
 
 “ Given the chance, he would prefer to do very little 
 work.” 
 
 “ He’d a jolly sight sooner do none at all,” said Grace. 
 
 “ He is very susceptible to the influences he happens to 
 encounter.” 
 
 “ I’ve often told him of it.” 
 
 The caller seemed disappointed at the cordial agreement 
 with her views. She frowned at Grace, and the girl waited. 
 
 “ It is well,” conceded the elder Mrs. Bannertori, “ your 
 eyes have been opened in regard to him. That may be 
 reckoned all to the good.” 
 
 “ But they weren’t closed, mind you, when I ran across 
 him first,” said Grace with spirit. 
 
 “ Where, exactly, did that occur ? ” 
 
 “ Look here, Tom’s mother,” said Grace, turning sharply, 
 “ I’m fairly good tempered. I was in a situation for some 
 while, and that learns anybody — teaches them, I mean — 
 to put up with a certain amount, and not to give all the back 
 answers that are thought of. But I’ve got my limitations, 
 ^mind you, and don’t you go beyond them. Understand ? ” 
 * “ I have no desire to be unjust,” said the elder Mrs. 
 
 Bannerton, “ and I think I may claim to have as good a 
 temper as anyone else. Mr. Watherston has often alluded 
 to it as one of my most prominent characteristics. Mr. 
 Watherston says evenness of deportment is a great asset 
 that — . What I want to make clear to you is this, my girl.” 
 
 “ My name’s Grace, and you can call me by it.” 
 
' - -m 
 
 . 
 
 48 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 “ That this marriage of yours took place at a singularly 
 inappropriate moment. A slight delay, and my boy would 
 have known the new circumstances. All that can’t be * 
 helped, but you must see how excessively irritating it is | 
 to me.” 
 
 “ Don’t take it to heart more than you can help.” 
 
 “ I decided, the instant I heard of it, that I would never 
 speak to him again. Mr. Watherston has persuaded me to 
 relax this, but he agrees it would be extremely unwise to > 
 help you both by giving you money.” 
 
 “ Did you catch sight,” asked Grace, “ of the brass plate v 
 when you were outside ? If so, perhaps you guessed that l 
 we are going to make a living on our own account, and if * 
 you guessed that, you’d be right. I wish Tom had been 3 
 here, to let you know that he and I are of the same mind on 
 this question. It won’t be an easy job, but we are going to 
 tackle it. It’s likely to be a bit of a fight. All that you’ve i 
 got to do is to keep outside the ropes, and look on. If we’re ; ' 
 beaten, and if the worst comes to the worst, I’ll send him : 
 back to you — although you haven’t made a first-class job. 
 of bringing him up, according to your own description — 
 and I shall return to other work. If we succeed, and the 'f; 
 best comes to the best, why you and I may very likely be s 
 friends, and in that case we can forget the past, and enjoy J 
 the present. Only,” forefinger upraised warningly, “ don’t , 
 you interfere in any way that’s likely to make the struggle '* 
 more difficult.” 
 
 “ Have you a clock here ? ” 
 
 “ We are not begging for wedding gifts.” 
 
 “ I’m not sure about the time, and I must call at my ‘ 
 solicitor’s ” — the elder Mrs. Bannerton did not conceal her 
 enjoyment in the words— “ my solicitor’s before he leaves 
 his office. Just let me say this, and repeat it, please, care- 
 fully to my son when he arrives. He is not to come to my 
 house, and the order that affects him, includes you.” . 
 Grace nodded. “ All communications between us will take 
 place through Air. Watherston. My son knows Mr. Wather- 
 ston’s address. You or he, or both together, are free to call 
 on Mr. Watherston.” 
 
 “ Sincere and heartfelt thanks,” said Grace casually. 
 
 “ In fact, for your own sakes, I advise you to do so. 
 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 49 
 
 From Mr. Watherston, I expect to hear, now and again, of 
 your progress, or of your failure.” 
 
 “ Don’t lay any money on it, either way.” 
 
 “ Good afternoon,” said the visitor stiffly. 
 
 “ I’ll see you off the premises,” said Grace. 
 
 She returned to her work, and mentioned to the half 
 crown on the mantelpiece, that the satisfactory detail about 
 the call was that it had taken place ; that she now knew the 
 quality of the elder Mrs. Bannerton, and that there was 
 little on her side of the discussion which seemed, on reflec- 
 tion, to demand amendment. 
 
 “ I held my ground,” said Grace contentedly. 
 
 Her young husband whistled soon afterwards, and she 
 hailed him from the upper window, ran down to let him in. 
 He had four admirable excuses for the delay ; she listened 
 to them with some impatience, because her news was of 
 greater urgency. He nodded approvingly as she went 
 through the particulars of the talk ; he gave a few inter- 
 rogations when Grace took breath. 
 
 “ And what did the mater say then ? ” 
 
 “ And did you find an answer to that ? ” 
 
 At the end, he agreed with Grace’s view of the incident. 
 If, he declared, he had been a party to the meeting 
 disputable topics might have arisen. He considered the 
 mater might have brought a cheque, but, for compensation, 
 was inclined to think that the impending visit of his mother 
 to a legal authority had about it a suggestion of high 
 promise. 
 
 “ You always make the blunder of expecting too much,” 
 said Grace, with evenness. “ And I suppose I’m 
 perhaps wrong in not expecting enough.” 
 
 “We are an admirable matched pair,” he said. “ Have 
 you any money about you, dear girl ? ” She had a balance 
 from the sum taken from her Savings Bank account. 
 “ Good ! ” said her husband. “ Now we’ve done a very 
 good day’s work. At least, you have. As a reward for 
 industry, I am going to take you along for a nice little meal 
 in Soho, pit at the St. James’s afterwards, and then home 
 to our own little nest.” 
 
 Grace handed over her purse. 
 
 Tom Bannerton prepared to set out on Monday morning 
 4 
 
50 
 
 BANNEKTON’S AGENCY 
 
 to see Mr. Watherston and, in his own phrase, to have a 
 rare heart-to-heart business talk with that gentleman. 
 At breakfast, he rehearsed the discussion for the benefit of 
 Grace ; she could not avoid noticing that Mr. Watherston’ s 
 contributions were of a hesitating and sometimes of a 
 deferential nature, whilst Tom Bannerston himself gave 
 views with unflinching resolution, and in an outspoken 
 manner that, she felt, ought ter be adopted by all who 
 discuss business matters. Her young husband said ten 
 o’clock was the best morning hour to call on old Beau 
 Brummel, for by that time the morning post would have 
 received attention, the larger efforts of the day would not 
 be started. Watherston could give useful advice if he 
 cared to do so. 
 
 “ I know how to deal with him,” Tom Bannerton re- 
 marked. “ I can get at his secrets. I intend to extract 
 some very useful tips out of him.” 
 
 All the same, when he had kissed his wife, and given a 
 sworn promise to be home for a one o’clock meal (from which 
 Grace knew that he intended to make the Watherston 
 affair a whole day matter) and had left, then he returned 
 hurriedly with the air of one to whom a brilliant inspiration 
 has just come. Old Beau was, as already mentioned, by 
 way of being a ladies’ man. Very well then. Would Grace 
 just put on her best clothes, and lock up the office, and 
 share the trip to the City ? It was not, mark you, that 
 Tom Bannerton felt nervous. Bless his soul, no. But 
 two heads (and this included two sets of features) were 
 better than one, and the old bounder would be pleased, and 
 his content would have a remarkably good effect on the 
 mater. So Grace — always ready to give him her company 
 — set out, and they boarded a car in which, the rush of 
 morning traffic being over, the conductor had the oppor- 
 tunity to give his views on the Australians and their chances 
 against All England, and, for the rest of the journey to 
 Finsbury Pavement, the topic of happiness, and how to 
 secure it. Not money, said the conductor, firmly. He 
 trusted the two passengers would not run off with that 
 old-fashioned idea. Not, argued the conductor, with a 
 touch of a pulpit manner, not worldly goods. Certainly 
 not. By no means whatsoever. Why, the conductor once 
 
51 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 knew a man who saved up, and put by, and exercised thrift, 
 promising himself that when he had stored a certain amount, 
 he would set to and thoroughly enjoy himself. Date came 
 near, and the man, one evening, told his friends, as he sipped 
 at a stone bottle of ginger beer, that on the morrow he 
 intended to start going on the bust. That very night — 
 here the conductor had to quicken the speed of narrative 
 because the terminus was close by — that very night, man 
 taken ill, was hiked off to infirmary, remained there for 
 goodness knew how long, finally handed in his checks, and 
 after the funeral, the guardians took every blessed penny 
 of the saved cash to meet infirmary expenses. 
 
 “You are,” said Tom Bannerton in going, “ without 
 exception, the most sensible chap in London.” 
 
 “ Sim’lar remarks have been passed before,” admitted 
 the conductor. 
 
 Mr. Watherston’s offices consisted of small rooms at 
 the very top of a large building, where a lift made height a 
 detail of small account. The middle-aged lady clerk said 
 he was out, but his return was expected immediately ; 
 would the two kindly take a chair. That was to say, 
 would they each take a chair. The lady clerk, with signs of 
 confusion, retired to her own apartment, and Grace looked 
 around, anxious to gain ideas. There seemed to be an air 
 of austerity, as though nothing but cautious matters were 
 ever undertaken We ; Grace found herself impressed by a 
 framed card on the top of the roller desk containing lines 
 that began, “ I expect to pass through this world but 
 once. If, therefore, there is any good thing which I can 
 do, or any kindness I can show my fellow-man, let me do it 
 now.” 
 
 “He is not by any means a bad sort,” declared her 
 husband impartially. “ A trifle sentimental, as I told you, 
 but, otherwise, good enough for week-days.” 
 
 Mr. Watherston came in with an “ Ah ! ” of mingled 
 surprise and gratification. He shook hands with Tom 
 Bannerton, ejaculating, “ My dear fellah ! ” several times ; 
 his behaviour on being presented to Grace was a lesson in 
 deportment. He congratulated himself and them on the 
 lucky fact that he was, by the merest chance, at liberty 
 for seven minutes. Seven minutes, and no more. Mr. 
 
 a OF US, 
 
52 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 Watherston seemed considerably interested in Grace, and 
 rather perturbed her by his attentions ; one of these was to 
 call on the lady clerk to bring, without a moment’s delay, a 
 footstool, and he knelt to set it in the right position for 
 Grace’s comfort. In doing this, he touched her ankle, and 
 received a sharp kick in the waistcoat. 
 
 “ We’ve called,” she said, “ to find out what kind of 
 agencies we ought to go in for.” 
 
 “ You don’t feel a draught, I trust, from the window ? 
 Because if so-- — ” 
 
 “ Leave off fidgetting about,” urged Grace. “ Let’s 
 talk business.” 
 
 “ No subject,” declared Mr. Watherston, “ is more 
 attractive so far as I am concerned. But you will pardon 
 me for remarking that Master Tom here and I are the two to 
 discuss the affair. Now, if you, my dear young lady, will 
 take the morning newspaper and discover the fashion page, 
 
 “ I’m in this,” she interrupted abruptly. “ Make a 
 start, please.” 
 
 “ Grace,” explained her husband, amusedly, “ is a 
 hustler.” 
 
 “ Grace,” she said, “ has need to be.” 
 
 Mr. Watherston did not get into the swing of eloquence 
 until he began to walk up and down, using oratorical 
 gestures. Then his language became elaborate, and his 
 words were of many syllables ; Grace found a pencil in 
 order to make notes, and more than once gave a sigh 
 at her inability to follow the arguments, or to appreciate 
 the suggestions. So far as could be ascertained, Mr. 
 Watherston ’s ideas were laifge and adventurous. He had 
 no patience with the notion of small beginnings. Tom 
 Bannerton was to enter into correspondence with Con- 
 tinental firms, proclaiming his readiness to act for them 
 in London, and in Great Britain ; if references were 
 demanded Mr. Watherston could provide them. Tom 
 must order from a printer known to Mr. Watherston 
 letter paper that would convey solidity, and a high repute. 
 Mr. Watherston said good stationery was half the battle. 
 At Grace’s request, he exhibited specimens from his own 
 memorandum case ; she asked for the meaning of letters 
 
 
53 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 placed after his name at the heading, and Mr. Watherston 
 answered casually that they were in the nature of quali- 
 fications. She also inquired whether all the firms named 
 in a line at the side of the note paper were in active working, 
 and was told that information of the kind could not be 
 supplied off-hand. Mr. Watherston was called to the 
 telephone where he held mystic discussion with some one 
 at the other end, frowning heavily the while to indicate 
 that the subject was one of lofty importance. “ Well, 
 look here,” he said finally to the telephone. “.Where 
 are you lunching to-day ? Very good. I’ll come along, 
 and we’ll have a further talk. Good-bye for the present.” 
 
 He came from the instrument, and lifting a finger to 
 the visitors for perfect silence, wrote oil a scribbling pad, 
 muttering to himself as he did so, “ Twenty-three thousand 
 pounds. Deduct freight and commission. Query, via 
 Stockholm or via Copenhagen.” When he had finished, 
 he took a Didot-Bottin directory from the shelves, turning 
 the leaves rapidly, and called for the lady clerk to whom 
 he gave orders that she accepted with an air of compre- 
 hension and obedience ; to Grace, they appeared involved. 
 This done, he turned to the callers and begged them, in 
 view of the magnitude of the business operation on which 
 he was engaged, to forgive him if he sent them away. 
 
 “ I shall have the pleasure, my dear fellah, of telling 
 your mother that I have given you the best advice at my 
 disposal.” 
 
 “ Rather want to be friends with her again, Mr. Wathers- 
 ton.” 
 
 “ Quite, quite ! The feeling does credit to you, Filial, 
 distinctly filial. But let me warn you that nothing in 
 that way can be done hastily. What you have first to 
 do is, in a phrase borrowed from the other side of the 
 Atlantic, to make good. Once you have achieved success, 
 you can approach your mother with confidence.” 
 
 Mr. Watherston, with a courtly air, kissed Grace’s hand, 
 and she congratulated herself on the fact that she was 
 wearing gloves. 
 
 The middle-aged lady clerk ran after the two as, at the 
 end of the corridor, they were about to step into the lift. 
 She held out a slip of paper, and Tom Bannerton offered 
 
54 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 to take it, but sbe insisted on banding it to Grace. On 
 the slip was written “ Beware of bim ! ” Grace nodded 
 to tbe lady clerk, as tbe lift descended. 
 
 “ You ought to bave obtained , 55 said Tom reproachfully, 
 “ tbe name and address of tbe printer tbe old chap spoke 
 about. Eorgot it, I suppose . 55 
 
 “ I remembered to forget it , 55 she retorted. 
 
 “ Useful call, any way. 5 ’ 
 
 “ Very. 5 ’ 
 
 '“I felt sure you’d be impressed by him.” 
 
 “ I was , 55 said Grace. “ But not favourably. All he 
 wants you to do is to come a cropper. He’d like you to 
 make a muddle of everything.” 
 
 “ Thought be seemed to bave a genuine desire to help me.” 
 “But not in tbe right direction. Now, you just put all 
 thoughts of bim, and bis ideas, out of your bead. I don’t 
 want my husband, when he’s old, to be like that. Come along 
 with me, and we’ll catch a ’bus from tbe Mansion House.” 
 In Holborn, Grace led the way through an important 
 looking archway, and in a building that had the air of a 
 palace built by an owner to whom expense was no object, 
 she found, with the assistance of officials, a department 
 called “ Agency Appointment. ” Further than the doorways 
 of this she would not go, but she primed her husband 
 with the questions and the statements he was to make 
 within, and sent him forward with an encouraging pat 
 on the shoulder. A quarter of an hour later, he came 
 back with the announcement, conveyed without any signs 
 of gratification, that it was fixed up, subject to the usual 
 inquiries. He had, as directed, given for references the 
 names of Grace’s elder brother, and of his friend Hedley. 
 Meanwhile the insurance people counselled that friends and 
 acquaintances should be canvassed. 
 
 “ That’s all right so far,” said Grace. “ A start, at 
 any rate.” 
 
 “ The payment, unfortunately, is affected by results.” 
 
 “ Results,” she declared, “ are just what we’ve got to 
 achieve.” 
 
 “A pity there are not easier ways of getting a living,” 
 he remarked. 
 
 “ There are. But you are not going to try them ! ” 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 G REAT times for the young couple, with all the 
 joys that accompany expectation. The office found 
 itself, as time went on, decorated with illustrated 
 cards and pictorial announcements, all hinting that, in 
 a moment of difficulty, a moment of curiosity, or, indeed, 
 any moment your best and wisest plan was to come to 
 Bannerton’s. Bannerton’s could furnish every helpful 
 detail if you were alarmed by the prospect of burglary, 
 fire, or premature retirement from life. You desired that 
 your bunch of keys, if lost, should be quickly returned 
 by the finder ; Bannerton’s was the representative of a 
 large and comprehensive scheme for this purpose. You 
 wanted to advertise in one of the journals of the day, 
 and had no more notion than a canary would have owned 
 in regard to the correct manner of setting about it ; Ban- 
 nerton’s offered aid. You were looking for one of the new 
 flats, replete with every modern convenience, as an alter- 
 native to some old-fashioned dwelling ; Bannerton’s felt 
 prepared to guide you on the way. A lady of the district 
 was enabled to make application for the King’s Bounty, 
 and Grace’s husband fixed a hand- written notice in. the 
 window, addressed more particularly to fathers, and 
 declaring ability to effect insurances against similar risks ; 
 the card engaged a considerable amount of attention, but, 
 owing to the remarks prompted, Grace withdrew the notice. 
 Later a new department under the Personal Superinten- 
 dence of Mrs. Bannerton. For Servants, no Fee. For 
 Mistresses, a Small Charge. Aunt Eliza of the Crown 
 and Anchor, in answer to a postcard, wrote that she 
 could do with a cook, and Grace set the bait in a good 
 position, and within an hour, a stout woman entered the 
 
 55 
 
56 
 
 BANNEKTON’S AGENCY 
 
 office, laying, her umbrella on the counter with the air of 
 one prepared to enter into lengthened discussion. 
 
 “ Why it’s Grade,” she cried amazedly. “ Whatever 
 next, for goodness 7 sake ! 77 
 
 The future was ignored, whilst cook, once of Jarford’s 
 in Upper Street, demanded news, and gave news, with 
 many interpolations conveying her delight. Cook, if she 
 had wondered once, had speculated a thousand times on 
 the present residence of her young friend, and had arrived 
 at the decision, with regret, that fate was not going to allow 
 them to meet again in this world. Cook, blaming herself 
 for not having guessed aright, said she might have known 
 that the other was one unlikely to be doing nothing. 
 
 “ And , 77 glancing around, “ isn’t everything nice and 
 tidy. I can see your signature all over the place . 77 
 
 “ Don’t give me all the ciedit.” 
 
 “ Oddly enough, I was thinking of you as I turned the 
 corner just now . 77 
 
 “ I’ve frequently thought* and talked of you. To 
 myself.” 
 
 “ A party comes up to me, and says, 4 Is there any- 
 wheres about here, ma’am, where I can get a good feed ? 7 
 And I says, ‘ Man alive, whatever induces you to put 
 such a question to me ? 7 And he says, ‘ Well, I put it 
 because I wanted the information, and because you look 
 the sort of lady who is able to sit up and take nourish- 
 ment ! 77 And I answers him a bit shortly, and passes 
 on. But the notion come into my head ; supposin’ me 
 and Grace was to have the chance of starting something 
 of the kind in this neighbourhood ; her and me could 
 make a do of it, where other people would fail. I’d help 
 in the background, and do the 7 ard work; she’d be 
 the one to attend to the customers. But,” sighing, “I 
 recognize at once that that’s amongst the dreams I’ve 
 had not likely to come true. And,” resolutely, “ now 
 to facts.” 
 
 Grace admitted, in the course of debate, that she had 
 no other situation on her books but the one offered by Mrs. 
 Beeves. Cook said that she had never tried a licensed 
 house, but this was merely an affair of principle with 
 her, and could be waived; the salary mentioned was 
 
 m 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 57 
 
 fair, aM it would gratify her exceedingly to be able to 
 think that she had been concerned in giving the registry 
 department a start. 
 
 4 4 Not that you want my ’elp,” she added. 
 
 44 Don’t you be too sure.” 
 
 44 Surely,” pointing to the notices on the walls, 44 with 
 all these irons in the fire ” 
 
 44 Irons,” said Grace, 44 but up till now, rather an absence 
 of coals. Still, it doesn’t do to be too impatient. Tom 
 says I always expect everything to happen before sunset.” 
 
 44 1 shall report myself to your aunt at Dalston this 
 evening,” said cook. 
 
 Two men came into the office as cook was preparing 
 to take leave ; Grace detained her in conversation in order 
 to enjoy the rare luxury of keeping customers waiting. 
 When cook had gone, and she returned to them, it proved 
 that they wished to see Mr. Bannerton ; that, on their own 
 statement, they had cherished little hope of finding him 
 in — 44 He’s got a lot of calls on his time,” said the younger 
 man excusingly— and they could leave the message. The 
 message was that Pantheon was safe for to-morrow. The 
 elder made an effort to spell the word, but gave up half 
 way ; they agreed that Mr. Bannerton would understand. 
 
 44 Can’t say that I myself do,” remarked Grace. This, 
 they declared, was in no way necessary. 
 
 When her husband returned that evening, the usual 
 exchange and mart took place of events of the day. Tom 
 had only just missed seeing So-and-So, and had nearly 
 caught So-So, and, if he had been five minutes earlier, 
 would have managed a, no doubt, satisfactory interview 
 with Mr. So. Grace described the transaction with cook, 
 and her husband ^agreed that, although the registry could 
 be looked upon as nothing more than a side-show, it was 
 undoubtedly worth cultivating, because, in the commercial 
 world, one thing led to another, and you could scarcely 
 be in contact with too many people. That was where 
 he himself came in. To the casual eye, it might appear 
 that the running about which he engaged upon could be 
 regarded as waste of hours, and fruitless expense. The 
 contrary was the case. At any moment, he might en- 
 counter in his rounds some extraordinarily useful person. 
 
58 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 worth, to Churton Street, weight in gold. Besides this, 
 it was necessary to be seen. Out of sight, out of mind. 
 Grace conveyed the message left by the two callers ; her 
 husband nodded to show that he comprehended, but said 
 nothing, and this mattered the less because there was 
 information to give regarding cook’s idea concerning a 
 restaurant. 
 
 “ Oh, this is really very precious,” he cried divertedly. 
 
 “ This saves the day from ^n appearance of emptiness. 
 
 I mean, the old lady’s notion of you two running a grub 
 establishment. Good pull up for carmen. Pass this shop, 
 you pass the best. Dine here once, and you will never go 
 anywhere else.” 
 
 “ Making fun doesn’t help.” 
 
 “ In the window,” he continued, “ a haddock, no longer 
 in the first flush of youth. Two anaemic sausages. A 
 specimen of plum dull, belonging to the period of the 
 Roman invasion. In the foreground, a cemetery for flies, 
 wasps, bumble bees.” 
 
 “ Cook’s good at her job,” urged Grace. 
 
 “ Let her stick to it. We don’t want too many projects 
 in the air. Concentration, my little friend, concentration $ 
 is our motto.” 
 
 Aunt Eliza sent the fee for the engagement promptly, 
 and the entry of the transaction was completed. It proved 
 satisfactory to Grace when ladies called and described, 
 in emotional tones, their urgent needs, to be able to say 
 that had they but looked in on such a date, and at such 
 an hour, they might have seen the very woman whose 
 services they required ; she had, however, been snapped up, 
 and was now giving every satisfaction at a large hotel. 
 
 “ Just my luck ! ” said each client dismally. 
 
 Cook made another visit on her first afternoon out, and 
 held earnest talk on a difficulty which had arisen. She 
 and Grace’s aunt had been exchanging confidences, and 
 a chance word betrayed the fact that the mistress once 
 belonged to the theatrical profession. Cook held a strong 
 antipathy to the stage. . Cook once had a sister, younger 
 than herself and slimmer, who, asking no one’s advice, 
 went at Christmas and obtained an engagement in panto- 
 mime at the Grand Theatre, Islington. “ I could easy 
 
BANNEKTQN’S AGENCY 
 
 59 
 
 tell you what she wore/’ said cook in a shocked voice. 
 “ It wouldn’t take me long.” The sister, it appeared, 
 was now living at Norwich, married to a gentleman in the 
 corn, hay and straw business, and taking no notice what- 
 ever of the members of her own family. Furthermore, 
 cook was, and always had been, chapel, and she remem- 
 bered a sermon which opened her eyes more widely than 
 ever in regard to the theatre, and to folk who had to do 
 with the theatre. She had often since wondered where 
 the minister obtained his startling information. 
 
 44 I’ve got nothing else against your aunt, my dear.” 
 
 44 Then don’t let that worry you. Forget it.” 
 
 44 But won’t it always be a bone of contention between 
 us ? ” 
 
 44 Not if you refrain from alluding to the matter again,” 
 decided Grace. 
 
 Cook had but slaked her thirst for argument, when 
 Tom Bannerton rushed in to ask whether a Mr. Chasemore 
 had asked for him. There had occurred no such inquiry ; 
 but Tom and the visitor, made known to each, and words 
 of politeness exchanged, spoke of the inconvenience caused 
 by people who made appointments, but did not keep 
 them. Cook said that the name of Chasemore was familiar 
 to her. In fact, she had once been acquainted with a 
 Mr. Chasemore, but he was a betting man, and could 
 scarcely be the one now mentioned. Grace’s husband 
 said his Chasemore had to do with horses ; cook referred, 
 with agitation, to the smallness of the world, and declared 
 she must be getting away lest the dusk of the evening 
 should make it dangerous for a single woman to be walking 
 alone in north London. 
 
 44 Funny old prude,” commented Tom when she had gone. 
 
 44 Always been very strict in her behaviour.” 
 
 44 1 must ask Chasemore what he knows about the fair 
 spinster.” 
 
 44 She begged me, at the door,” said Grace, 44 not on any 
 account to mention her to him.” 
 
 Chasemore was met later by the two at an Assault at 
 Arms organized for the benefit of a well-known pugilist 
 who himself, at the Churton Street office, invited Grace 
 to buy tickets ; his manner had been so defiant that she 
 
60 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 did not care to make excuse. Chasemore ’s deportment 
 towards Grace was that of a man who had suddenly achieved 
 his most exalted hopes ; he declared that for some time 
 he had been looking forward to this pleasure. “ But you 
 came to the office once,” Grace pointed out, “ with a 
 friend. And left a message. Something about Gilbey’s 
 place in Oxford Street.” Mr. Chasemore, bowing repeat- 
 edly, envied Mrs. Bannerton’s memory, and asked to be 
 pardoned for remarking that Pantheon, in the case in 
 question, was a horse, and not a wine store. With many 
 apologies, he took Grace’s husband away to meet friends, 
 and to talk business, and Grace was left alone to watch 
 a number of desultory contests that took place on the 
 raised platform, between competitors who all seemed 
 very young, or very old, and were agreed in ignoring the 
 recommendations and gibes of the audience. At the end 
 the truculent man for whose benefit the performance had 
 been given, appeared and said, in his hoarse voice, that 
 certain' parties were here who had not settled for their 
 tickets ; if such parties did not stump up before leaving, 
 he intended to wait for the parties outside the hall, and 
 let them know, not only w r hat was what, but who was 
 which. Grace, becoming alarmed at the tumult going on 
 near, attempted to make her way to the door marked 
 Exit, and was doing this when Chasemore approached 
 rather unsteadily, and seeing her, straightway used his 
 fists, punching out, and ordering the men he struck to 
 look out there ; a tardy warning, and one which they 
 resented. All the same, he managed to escort her to the 
 door, and along a corridor to the vestibule, and out into 
 the open air. 
 
 “My services,” said Chasemore, lifting his hat, and 
 speaking now with a catch in the voice that had a resem- 
 blance to hiccoughs, “ are always at command of female 
 in distress.” 
 
 “ Good of you, but I should have been quite all right 
 by myself.” 
 
 “ Pardon me, madam,” he said, with elaborate deference, 
 “ if I call you a liar. Your welfare means everything to 
 me. I never left female in distress ; never. ’Cepting 
 once,” 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 61 
 
 “ Where is my husband, please ? ” 
 
 “ Your good man’s safe. We’re going to make his 
 fortune for him. Me and few others.” 
 
 “ I think,” said Grace sharply, “ you had better let 
 him do that for himself.” 
 
 “ What was I talking about ? ” asked Mr. Chasemore. 
 “ Oh, I know. ’Bout the one occasion when I left female 
 in distress. I must tell you, madam, ’n order to make 
 it clear to your inferior intellect that beneath gentlemanly 
 exterior ” — here he struck an impressive attitude — “ I’ve 
 got a loving heart. Now in first place ” 
 
 Tom Bannerton hurried up, and rescued her from the 
 peril of listening to the reminiscence. Chasemore was left 
 on the pavement, wiping away tears, and asserting that 
 he had not a real friend in the w~orld. 
 
 The two walked home silently, excepting for the detail 
 that Tom Bannerton hummed in the way that some 
 indicate a certain nervousness. Near the Town Hall, 
 Grace spoke, and spoke with decision. She had not, she 
 said, relished the entertainment ; Tom declared that he 
 shared this view, and referred to other displays of the 
 kind where real sport had been displayed ; he gave an 
 account of an evening at Wonderland, east of Aldgate. 
 Grace said she had no wish to see Mr. Chasemore again, or 
 any of Mr. Chasemore ’s group ; Tom hastened to agree, 
 with a hint at limitations. These chaps were well enough 
 in their way, and if one met them in other surroundings, 
 the impressions made by them might be different. For 
 example, they were all most extraordinarily good natured. 
 If you chanced to say to any of them “ I’m stony ” (meaning 
 thereby that you were in need of cash), hand would go into 
 pocket 
 
 “ Whose ? ” asked Grace. 
 
 Into their own pocket at once, and a loan was yours 
 until the time arrived when it was convenient to pay back. 
 Grace said that their generosity, whatever the extent, did 
 not concern her, and expressed the view that many of 
 these folk were scarcely to be distinguished from the 
 criminal classes. Tom said promptly that this was so. 
 A detective of his acquaintance had once made a like 
 comment. The detective called them by the title of links, 
 
62 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 and asserted that if he, at any time, wanted to find a 
 particular joker, he had only to get into conversation 
 with one of the links, and the rest was easy. 
 
 <c So / 5 remarked Grace as they reached home, “ if I 
 ask you to drop the whole set, and have nothing more 
 to do with them, you’ll do so, won’t you ? 55 
 
 He kissed her ear, and whispered to it. “ I make use 
 of them , 55 he said. 
 
 Indoors, he gave imitations of some of the weakest of 
 the boxing, and Grace did not press the argument. It 
 is difficult to speak curtly, even to a husband, when he 
 is in a humorous mood. 
 
 Mr. Chasemore brought a small box of fruit the next 
 day, and had a brief chat with Grace on rural life as com- 
 pared with a town existence. He left so soon as a customer 
 arrived, searching for a parlour maid, and said, in going, 
 “ Tell your husband, please, that I am bringing some 
 gentlemen to see him about life insurance . 55 
 
 It became a habit with Tom Bannerton to busy himself 
 in the office during the late hours of the day ; he begged 
 Grace to attend, the while, to domestic tasks and said 
 that he would receive and deal with any callers. On these 
 occasions, Grace heard the rumbling of voices below, and 
 smiled contentedly at the knowledge that business was 
 going on. During the household work on which she 
 engaged, her young brain was doing mental arithmetic. 
 (It had always been more convenient to do sums in her 
 head than to set them down on paper.) As she rubbed 
 the silver frame containing Edmund’s photograph, and 
 in passing the duster over the mantelpiece, Grace counted 
 the week’s income so far as she was acquainted with it ; 
 reckoned the disbursements that concerned the house and 
 herself. The expenditure seemed to race well ahead of the 
 takings, but she reminded herself that everything had to 
 have a beginning. Patience was indispensable. Hope- 
 fulness was to be encouraged. 
 
 The office door below moved with the accompaniment 
 of its effort at shrill melody. Grace, leaning out, heard 
 talk in voices kept so low that the words could not be 
 distinguished, until one said, “ Well, I must be moving 
 along,” and then the farewells. 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 63 
 
 “ Wlio were they ? ” she inquired, when her husband 
 reached the landing of the staircase. 
 
 “ Business friends,” he answered cheerfully. “ Bet you 
 sixpence you can’t do this.” 
 
 Tom Bannerton kept three plates spinning on the table, 
 and Grace took a few minutes for rest, and for admiration. 
 
 Discovery that the office was being used for a purpose 
 in no way connected with the various agencies mentioned 
 on cards and posters, startled her, but composure followed 
 quickly. She did not know a great deal of the traffic of 
 betting ; a vague idea existed that the people who backed 
 horses were the fools, and those who made a book, and 
 accepted the bets, were the wise. Tom Bannerton, so 
 far as she could understand from the slips of paper found 
 in a desk in which a key had, by oversight, been left, 
 was on the safer bank of the river, and for this Grace felt 
 thankful. But she did not like, and could not persuade 
 herself to like, the secrecy of it, nor the obvious fact that 
 he had intended she should know nothing of it. If there 
 was money to be gained in this manner, well and good, 
 but in such a case, she wished to be a partner. The details 
 of horse racing could doubtless be learnt. 
 
 She went to Rydon Crescent to consult her elder brother 
 Robert (from whom knowledge was never by any chance 
 hidden) ; Robert was not, as some are, a single page 
 of an encyclopaedia, but represented the whole set of 
 volumes. Him she found, most luckily, pasting cuttings 
 from newspapers in a large book, and although he at 
 first resented the interruption, he changed his mood on 
 discovering that she had taken the journey in order to 
 consult him. Mr. Lennard had gone to a meeting of the 
 trade at Finsbury Town Hall ; Edmund was at a theatre ; 
 the two sisters were busy, in view of the opening of the 
 dancing season, with needlework upstairs. Robert proved 
 to be entirely uninterested in the brisk account given 
 of the new office, and its many undertakings ; the de- 
 scription of her own task with the servants’ registry work 
 left him calm, and he gazed absently at the window as 
 Grace talked. But once the matter of our laws concerning 
 betting was approached and questions began to be put, 
 
64 
 
 BANNEBTON’S AGENCY 
 
 Bobert proved alert, and answers followed questions Hot 
 foot. The particulars given were sometines of a non- 
 committal nature, and an element of vagueness was not 
 entirely absent. 
 
 Were people allowed to bet on horse racing ? 
 
 In certain circumstances, yes. 
 
 Which of the methods could be looked upon as pro- 
 hibited ? 
 
 One was not allowed to back horses in the street. Or, 
 Bobert believed, on licensed premises. 
 
 Could you' Ibet at a race course ? 
 
 Most certainly. Bobert had seen it carried on, under 
 his own eyes, on the single occasion when he visited Epsom. 
 
 Why was it all right to bet in one place and not in 
 another ? 
 
 Bobert mentioned that he was not there to excuse the 
 law, but only to explain it. Bacing was an old institution 
 — the St. Leger, for instance, was first run so far back 
 as 1776 — and many regulations had been made and en- 
 forced at various periods. 
 
 Grace had seen, in the newspapers, allusions to raids 
 by the police, and seizure of documents and cash ; when 
 and why did these incidents take place ? And supposing 
 any one made a book, and accepted bets in a quiet way, 
 could the authorities interfere, and, if so, to what extent ? 
 Did they first give a warning ? And did the magistrate 
 order imprisonment, or would he just make it a fine ? 
 And who would be punished ; the bookmaker, or the 
 man who backed ? ' 
 
 Bobert said much depended on the merits of individual 
 cases. It was impossible to lay down a hard and fast 
 rule. One magistrate took one view of the law, and an- 
 other took a different view. It all depended. But 
 speaking generally and comprehensively 
 
 “ I am talking as a layman,” said Bobert warningly. 
 — Why, it might be assumed that any infraction of the 
 laws regarding betting was not looked upon as a serious 
 crime. The idea was — again speaking generally and 
 comprehensively— to check the habit, and to protect 
 the helpless from being swindled. Bobert avoided any 
 suspicion of not being on safe ground by remarking that 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 65 
 
 the Derby was run on a course of one mile, some furlongs, 
 and some yards, and that in ’67 it took place in a snow- 
 storm. He added information concerning principal owners 
 and leading jockeys, gave a sketch of the life of Fred 
 Archer, and went on to allude to the favourite sports 
 of the early Romans. 
 
 Grace was feeling slightly comforted and rather dazed 
 when her sisters brought some of the results of their dress- 
 making and dress altering for her inspection. She gave 
 approval. 
 
 “ Meeting many new people, Grace ? ” 
 
 “ Tremendous number.” 
 
 “ Are they at all classy ? ” 
 
 “ Rather,” she answered. 
 
 “ I thought,” said Hester, “ you would have given a 
 party before now to introduce us to your husband’s family.’’ 
 Her father came in. He greeted the married daughter 
 warmly. 
 
 “ We don’t propose,” said Grace, “ to do much enter- 
 taining until we’ve made our way in the world.” 
 
 “ Hurry up with the job.” 
 
 “ Trust us for that,” she remarked confidently. 
 
 “ Talking of success in life ” began her father'. 
 
 The two sisters moaned, but Grace prepared to give 
 all her attention to an oft-delivered address. 
 
 Mr. Lennard made no pretence of having found success 
 at any period of his career ; he declared that he and 
 ambition had long since parted company, and took a 
 genuine satisfaction in recounting the various occasions 
 when good fortune had signalled to him, and he gave it 
 little encouragement or none at all. A friend, it appeared, 
 came to him and said : 
 
 “ Lennard, you don’t want to go in this humdrum 
 fashion all your life. You work too hard, and you make 
 precious little out of it. Now listen to this ! ” 
 
 Grace’s father admitted that the scheme, being fully 
 and intelligibly explained, attracted him, and he promised 
 to give it his best consideration. He made full notes of 
 all the details. He started inquiries. He took his wife’s 
 opinion, and as she was never in favour of venturesomeness, 
 it became necessary for him to increase his ordinary 
 5 
 
66 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 caution, and when the other party demanded an instant 
 answer, Mr. Lennar d begged for an extension of time. 
 This granted, the moment came when the other party 
 declined to wait any longer, and Mr. Lennard confessed 
 it was an enormous relief to him when an intimation came 
 to the effect that the offer was withdrawn. 
 
 “ That chap,” announced Grace’s father, “ is now worth 
 the Lord knows how much, and lives in a big house, Tot- 
 ter idge way, and entertains members of Parliament, bless 
 you, and his eldest daughter sports a single eye-glass.” 
 
 In certain cases of this- nature, Mr. Lennard nerved 
 himself, it appeared, to take the first steps, with a con- 
 temporary holding him by the hand, and whispering 
 words of encouragement. Even at this distance he spoke 
 tremulously of incidents, and of sleepless nights, and of 
 agitating days, -with the persistent question “ Ought I, 
 or ought I not ? ” and the ultimate decision to keep on 
 the safe side. It seemed that his absence from any under- 
 taking was an assurance of its prosperity ; the two occasions 
 when recklessness carried him past the stage where it was 
 possible for him to turn and run, proved to be complete 
 and unmistakable disasters. 
 
 “ Lost every shilling,” he chuckled. “ Every penny. 
 Every farthing. Had to raise mon6y on the furniture, 
 and it took years to pay it off. Like a millstone, it was. 
 But how, Grade, do you account for it all ? Why is 
 it that certain chaps, not more intelligent and certainly 
 not better educated than myself, can go and make money, 
 hand over fist, and seldom commit a blunder ? And 
 
 why is it that I, on the other hand . You see what 
 
 I mean. Is it the fate of the Lennards, or how do you 
 explain it ? ” 
 
 The other members of the family were ready to answer 
 the inquiry, ^,nd none more promptly and fluently than 
 Robert. Indeed Robert talked at such length that his 
 brothers and sisters felt their aid was not required ; upon 
 the father, his address had a soporific effect, and Mr. Len- 
 nard was in a sound sleep, ere his eldest son arrived at, 
 “ In the second place.” Kate slipped away, but her 
 departure failed to stay, or curtail the lecture ; it could 
 not have been given with more energy and concentration 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 67 
 
 if Robert had been facing a large and eager audience. To 
 Robert, the whole matter was plain. Lack of audacity 
 was the drawback from which his father suffered. All 
 your great men, all your successful men, all your notable 
 and conspicuous men had been remarkable for the gift 
 of owning self-confidence and in being able to select the 
 right course, and of pursuing it with vigour, persistency, 
 determination. He who hesitates is lost. Just as a boy 
 never learns to swim unless he jumps into the water, so 
 folk of a larger growth accomplish nothing by shivering 
 on the brink. Grace, having nodded agreement until 
 she felt desirous, if only for a change, of disputing something 
 asked to which class Robert himself belonged, and Robert 
 was able to give a triumphant and illustrative incident 
 to prove that he, most fortunately, was amongst those 
 who took risks unflinchingly. At the Borough Council 
 offices where he was engaged, he had, alone and unaided, 
 initiated and carried through a reform which meant — 
 put briefly — that pen-holders reserved for the use of the 
 public would, in future, be refitted with nibs, every other 
 day, instead of waiting for action until complaints were 
 formulated. 
 
 Grace went to help Kate in the kitchen. 
 
 “ I think,” said Hester, “ that the whole matter is a 
 question of luck. If father had had that, he would have 
 been all right.” 
 
 “ There’s no such thing as luck,” declared Robert. 
 
 Who says so ? ” 
 
 “ I say so.” 
 
 “ What grounds have you for saying so ? ” 
 
 “ Sufficient grounds,” said Robert doggedly, “ in my 
 individual opinion.” 
 
 “ And what, pray,” demanded Hester, “ may your 
 individual opinion be worth ? You have a high opinion 
 of yourself ; you’ve got all the self-confidence that you 
 were jabbering about, but so far as I can see it hasn’t 
 taken you very far. And what’s more, I don’t suppose 
 it will ever carry you far.” 
 
 “ The short-sighted,” observed Robert, “ have a great 
 trouble in judging distances.” 
 
 “ Perhaps you can tell me how it is that some of the 
 
68 BANNERTON’S AGENCY , 
 
 fellows in your office get on whilst others remain still.” 
 
 “ Well ” he said condescendingly, “ I can answer that. 
 Those who get on are the men who have the luck to — 
 
 “ There you are ! ” cried Hestejr triumphantly. 
 
 “ Supper ready,” announced Kate and Grace, from 
 kitchen. 
 
 At the evening meal, Grace, to divert the topic, made an 
 inquiry concerning the two lodgers. She was told they I 
 were going on as usual. The lodgers at Rydon Crescent 
 were brothers, and the Lennard family was, because of 
 them, regarded by other letting households with open envy. 
 They had good berths in Wood Street, City, and were able 
 to secure, for the ladies of the household, excellent purchases I 
 of ribbons at wholesale figures ; they could use influence in 
 the hat department. Their manners during the great part , 
 of the week at Rydon Crescent deserved the label “ gentle- ■ 
 mainly ” that Hester often conferred. On Saturday after- 1 
 noons the two went to look on at either football or Cricket, 
 as the season provided, and this was followed by a dinner up 
 west, and the pit of„ a theatre. At eleven the busy hour 
 occurred, and it was devoted to a wine bar in the Strand ; 
 when the clock struck midnight the brothers were turned 
 out, and on the journey to Rosebery Avenue became the 
 sport and plaything of circumstance, with the result that it 
 was possible for them to reach home in thirty minutes or, : 
 the circumstances being less favourable, in three hours. 
 Whatever the time of arrival on Sunday morning, they were 
 always fiercely argumentative, disclosing a readiness in 
 speech altogether foreign to their normal behaviour ; the 5 
 Lennard girls listened eagerly, but other members of the 
 family sometimes despatched a representative to beg for 
 less noise, and to urge immediate rest. In .the face of this, 
 the two gave up bickering and on each landing stopped to 
 express mutual admiration ; occasionally there was the ' , 
 singing of “ Auld Lang Syne.” It was then that one of the 
 ladies of the house intervened. 
 
 “ Quite enough of that,” called a shrill voice, at a eau- ^ 
 tiously opened doorway. 
 
 Whereupon the riotous warehousemen calmed down at 
 once, and went off on tip-toe. In the morning, tea was 
 taken up, and left outside the room. In the afternoon, the 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY. 
 
 69 
 
 two came down in sobered, penitent mood ; offered pro- 
 found apologies to Hester and to Kate, and spoke of a desire 
 to give up the racketing career of single men, and to settle 
 down. 
 
 “ And now,” said one, earnestly, “ the question is, would 
 you young ladies feel inclined to entertain a proposal of 
 marriage from us ? ” 
 
 “ Not for me, thanks,” said Hester. 
 
 “ Me, neither,” said Kate. 
 
 The young men groaned deeply, and as signal of their 
 intention to reform, went out to attend a Brotherhood 
 meeting at a chapel in Pentonville Road. Their behaviour 
 thenceforth until the next Saturday came along was 
 impeccable. 
 
 Grace, before leaving, asked Robert to let her know if he 
 obtained additional facts on the subject they discussed. 
 Robert said he had given all the information that existed. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 G RACE’S husband became secretary to a new political 
 club 
 
 44 All off my own baV’ he announced exultantly. 
 And there occurred an evening when she decked herself out 
 in her very best and smartest, and went along to the building 
 where the inquiry, from which she endeavoured to keep the 
 note of pride, — 44 Can you /please tell me where I shall find 
 Mr. Bannerton ? I am his wife ” — secured attentions from 
 the members that at times became overwhelming. If Tom 
 Bannerton happened on any later occasion to be busy, she 
 was conducted by a strong guard to the front row of chairs, 
 the progress exciting general interest and open curiosity ; 
 she made her choice there, and was furnished with a pro- 
 gramme of the entertainment, together with exclusive 
 information concerning any amendments imposed by destiny 
 and sore throat. The courteous men brought up wives to 
 be introduced. 
 
 44 Pardon me, Mrs. Bannerton, but this is my missus. 
 Not much to look at, but a good enough sort, as sorts go.” 
 The ladies chatted ere the performance started, and 
 praised the neighbourhood, or complained of the neighbour- 
 hood, and referred to glorious occasions when they had 
 encountered the Mayor of the borough, or had received a 
 word from the local Member of Parliament, and other 
 distinguished gentlemen alluded to as Bigwigs. Now and 
 again at these evenings a Bigwig would be invited, and 
 Grace’s husband had to look out for him (for a Bigwig 
 expects a certain ornateness in reception), to tell the Bigwig 
 how extremely kind it was of him to spare an hour from his 
 many and exacting duties, to present the finest flowers of 
 the membership of the club, and, above all, to arrange for 
 70 
 
BANNEETON’S AGENCY 
 
 71 
 
 the Bigwig to speak. This the visitor could always, with 
 a little cajolery, be persuaded to do, and consequently — the 
 play being (say) “ East Lynne,” performed by the Dramatic 
 Society of the club — the audience, desirous as it might be of 
 ascertaining what became of Lady Isobel, had to wait, and 
 listen to an address on our future relations with Continental 
 powers. The Bigwig generally offered a sworn assurance 
 that he had no idea he would be called upon to speak, but 
 the audience looked incredulous ; refused to be cheered by 
 the formal declaration that it was intended to say only a 
 few brief words ; as the oration went on, the Bigwig 
 detected an aspect of “ How much longer, for goodness 
 sake ! ” and, glancing around for encouragement, caught 
 sight of the features of the wife of the secretary. To her, 
 because she displayed eager attention, the Bigwig addressed 
 his few concluding remarks (the description was his own, and 
 proved to be not completely accurate), and when the end 
 did come, her applause sounded complimentary, whilst the 
 vehement hand clapping from the others indicated relief. 
 The prize for good behaviour was given subsequently when 
 the Bigwig chanced to meet Grace in thoroughfares, or in 
 public conveyances, for then a silk hat was lifted. Any 
 untoward circumstance that might have happened in the 
 day became erased from Grace’s memory by this sign of 
 recognition, and was reported triumphantly to her husband. 
 
 “ You never know when they may come in handy,” he 
 confessed. 
 
 “ That isn’t quite the view I take of it.” 
 
 “ Naturally. You haven’t got a business head. You are 
 a creature of sentiment. Your mind, girl-like, is full of 
 romance. And of course,” as she tried to protest, “ I love 
 you all the better for it.” 
 
 Certainly there were moments afr the office (references 
 being demanded by some Company or Association that gave 
 little of anything and, least of all, impulsive confidence) ' 
 when these notable folk proved useful ; they were ready, on 
 the understanding that no financial obligation was involved, 
 to state on paper that Mr. Thomas Bannerton was, to their 
 knowledge, singularly well fitted for the post in question, 
 and that they had the highest regard for his ability, probity, 
 and unsullied repute. Grace read these tributes with open 
 
72 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 content. She preserved in the archives of the establish- 
 ment the slips of paper that arrived with the testimonial, 
 and bearing the writer's signature and the words 44 With 
 best comps.” 
 
 A note from Hedley, of Leadenhall Street, came on a day 
 when one of the business transactions had been com- 
 pleted, and good temper was in the air. Hedley declared 
 that Providence had been unkind in failing to arrange a 
 meeting since the encounter on the Tilbury line, and he had 
 therefore decided to take the matter in his own hands. 
 Hedley was going that evening to a dinner in the West End 
 given to a politician about to leave for America ; he had, 
 by the good nature of his governor, two tickets in addition 
 to his own, and Tom and Mrs. Tom were to meet him in the 
 vestibule of the restaurant seven fifteen sharp. Evening 
 dress not indispensable, at the particular request of the 
 grpat man, who had said, feelingly, that he wished above 
 everything else to bid good-bye to . his dear friends, the 
 workers. 
 
 44 I can’t go,” said Grace’s husband at once. - 
 44 If you don’t, I don’t,” she declared. 
 
 44 That, if you will allow me to say so, is nonsense.” 
 
 44 May be nonsense,” retorted Grace, 44 but anyhow it’s 
 my sense. I’d rather stay at home with you.” 
 
 44 I,” searching for cigarettes on the desk, 44 have to be at 
 Highbury this evening. To look after that Miss Dunbar.” 
 44 Surely,” said Grace with vehemence, 44 Miss Dunbar — 
 I only saw her once at your club concert last week — but 
 surely she’s old enough and big enough to look after herself.” 
 
 44 Who on earth has been moving those Virginians ? 
 
 Sorry, sorry. Case in my inside pocket, all the while. Let 
 me see ; what were we talking about ? ” 
 
 44 Miss Dunbar.” 
 
 44 No. We were arguing about the dinner this evening. 
 You put on your smartest frock, dear girl, and go with 
 Hedley. I’ll telephone to him to say you’re coming along.” 
 44 Means leaving the house with no one to look after it,” 
 urged Grace. 
 
 44 We can each take a latch key. Then it won’t matter 
 which arrives home first.” 
 
 Grace left . the restaurant that ilight at eleven o’clock, 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 73 
 
 flushed with the joy of a capital evening ; some of the colour 
 was the result of an ejaculation overheard on the broad 
 staircase, 44 What a nice, fresh-looking face ! ” Hedley 
 spoke of a taxi cab, and had given instructions to the com- 
 missionaire, but Grace cancelled the orders ; she knew 
 where to find a motor omnibus, knew where to alight from 
 it. Her companion gave in, shook hands, sent best regards 
 to Tom Bannerton. 44 It’s been a jolly time for me , 55 she 
 said, frankly, and Hedley said, in his careful way, 4 4 So glad 
 it went off all right ; see you again soon.” In the omnibus, 
 chance or some other power arranged that she should find her 
 elder sister. Hester was returning after a visit to the Palace 
 Theatre with a gentleman described, for the mystification 
 of other passengers, as Mr. L. and having mentioned this, 
 she demanded to be informed what Grace was iioing alone 
 at this hour of the night. 
 
 44 Really ! ” said Hester, on receiving the particulars. 
 She became interested in an advertisement of boot polish, 
 and hummed a few bars. 
 
 44 The guest of the evening,” mentioned Grace, 44 was 
 brought up, and presented to me by Mr. Hedley.” 
 
 44 Very nice gift, I’m sure. Does Mr. Hedley offer you 
 any other signs of regard, may I ask ? ” 
 
 “ Trying to be satirical ? ” 
 
 “ I|am endeavouring,” said Hester, lowering her voice, 
 “ to provide something in the nature of a hint.” 
 
 “ You’ll be glad to hear,” said Grace, 44 or disappointed, 
 that my husband knew all about it.” 
 
 44 This,” declared Hester, unconvinced, 44 by no means 
 increases my respect for him.” 
 
 Hester twirled her muff as one dismissing the subject 
 from consideration, and began to speak of latest fashions. 
 Before leaving the omnibus, she had a curt and resolute 
 argument with the conductor on the subject of inattention 
 to the order given- by ringing the bell, and entrusted him 
 with a message for the driver. 
 
 44 Be careful what you’re up to,” she called, insistently, 
 from the pavement. 
 
 “.Was that,” inquired the conductor amusedly of Grace, 
 “ meant for me, or you, or the whole ’bus ? ” Grace felt 
 unable to decide. 
 
74 BANNEBTON’S AGENCY 
 
 In walking home from the main road she began afresh the 
 repetition of the evening’s occurrences. Tom Bannerton 
 would want to know all about the dinner, and all about the 
 speeches, and all about the people she had met, and it was 
 worth while taking pains in order to get the account in 
 order. She tried to recall details of the speech given by the 
 principal guest, and in doing so began to fear that at the 
 time of the delivery she must have permitted her attention 
 to wander. He spoke, she felt certain, at great length ; he 
 spoke, she was aware, in a deep, impressive voice ; his 
 gestures^ she remembered, were perfect. He referred to the 
 time of his earliest platform engagement in London. He 
 made humorous quotations from some of the least favour- 
 able notices in the press. The misty and forgotten part of 
 the speech came when the great man made an effort to 
 argue that Great Britain had reached perfection, but that 
 there still existed tremendous room for improvement ; 
 that statesmanship was a gift, and also something which 
 could be acquired"; that British politicians were fair and 
 honest, but lacked impartiality, and should on no account 
 be trusted. Grace noticed that at this point gentlemen 
 representing the press, and seated near, laid down pencils, 
 relighted cigars, and leaning back, fixed their gaze upon 
 the ceiling. “ Whatever is he driving at ? ” she whispered 
 to her companion. Hedley replied that the great man was 
 just driving ; nothing more. During the remainder of the 
 oration the two chatted in undertones of agencies that paid 
 and of agencies which were not remunerative. They arrived 
 at the conclusion that quantity had some virtues, but that 
 quality was to be preferred. 
 
 At Churton Street she knocked at the side door in order to 
 avoid the trouble of finding her latch key, but this had to be 
 discovered because no answer came. Grace smiled at the 
 thought that her husband, having eaten supper, had 
 become tired of waiting up ; it was a reversal of the or- 
 dinary procedure. Upstairs, she switched on the light, and 
 saw that the meal left for him had not been touched. 
 Grace set the menu card of the dinner on the mantelpiece, 
 glanced at her reflection in the mirror, and decided to rest in 
 the easy- chair and to think over the pleasant details of the 
 evening once again before going quietly to the bedroom. 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 75 
 
 Grace was awakened by the sudden arrest of a cab in the 
 street below, and voices. Starting up from the easy-chair, 
 she went to the open window. 44 No, no,” some one said in 
 a deep voice. 44 You must really leave this to me. I should 
 have chartered the taxi in any case.” Her husband seemed 
 to be arguing. “ Please, please,” begged the other. “ Let 
 me settle when I get to the journey’s end. AncLthank you 
 ever so much for your delightful company, and for taking 
 care of me.” An idea seemed to come. 44 I’ll write, if you 
 give me a safe address.” 
 
 Tom closed the side door after him but did not lock up. 
 Grace called out, requesting him to do so. 
 
 44 Duffer ! ” she said rallyingly as he entered the room. 
 
 44 I know,” he admitted. 
 
 44 Also, muddle-brain.” 
 
 “ True.” 
 
 44 Furthermore, dunderhead.” 
 
 44 Quite possible.” 
 
 44 Couldn’t you see, by the light, that I was in ? ” 
 
 44 Oh,” he remarked, surprisedly, 44 is that what you’re 
 talking about. Well, old sweet, and how did the evening 
 go ? ” 
 
 He was diverted by the confession that when a lady 
 neighbour at the dinner talked of difficulties in obtaining 
 servants, Grace had spoken, without hesitation, of the 
 registry office, writing down the number of the house and 
 the name of the street in order to assist the neighbour’s 
 memory. Tom Bannerton himself, it appeared, had 
 allowed no single thought of business to come into his head 
 since the hour of eight o’clock. Not being at his own club, 
 he was able to take matters easily. 
 
 44 And you didn’t have to walk home ? ” remarked 
 Grace. 
 
 44 Managed to get a lift. You see, it was all on her way.” 
 
 44 Her way,” she echoed quickly. 
 
 44 Miss Dunbar has one of those flats near Baker Street.” 
 
 44 Seems to be fond of them,” said Grace. 
 
 44 She made a great score this evening.” 
 
 44 Obviously,” said Grace. 44 What did she mean by 
 speaking of a safe address ? A safe address where she could 
 write to you.” 
 
76 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 “ I rather fancy,” he answered carefully, “ that there was 
 some talk between us earlier about getting something to 
 jjceep her jewels in. And I believe I offered to look out for 
 a good second-hand one.” 
 
 “ So,” remarked Grace, “ you did do a stroke of business, 
 then, after all.” - 
 
 The agencies continued to increase, but it was found, 
 when accounts were set down, that the servants’ registry 
 made the largest contribution to income. Some of the 
 other details, on being looked into closely, proved to be not 
 only unremunerative but a source of expense ; Grace 
 arrived at the facts by keeping a strict record of the dis- 
 bursements of petty cash. She began to watch her own 
 expenditure with special care, and the estimated cost of 
 entertaining members of her family had induced her to 
 postpone hospitality. A hint, conveyed once more by her 
 elder sister, and so broad that it attained the measurement 
 of a command, forced her to send a cordially worded invi- 
 tation for Saturday, the. eighteenth of the month, one of the 
 rare evenings that Tom announced was disengaged and, this 
 done, Grace went through the mental strain, not unknown 
 in small establishments, of attempting to blend economy 
 with magnificence. She did not see how the party could 
 be given for less than one pound eight. 
 
 Relief came from an unexpected quarter, when Rydon 
 Crescent had answered that nothing would be allowed to 
 prevent the relatives, father down to Edmund, from coming 
 to see Grace’s house, and to be her guests (Grace feared most 
 of all the presence of Robert and his wide- world knowledge), 
 for then, by the same post, arrived a letter signed Yours 
 obed’tly, E. Reeves, and identified as the penmanship of 
 Aunt Eliza. Aunt Eliza was, on the eighteenth, celebrating 
 an anniversary of the memorable date that, although the 
 almanacks gave no reference to the fact, marked her entry 
 into public life on the London stage ; by a happy coincidence 
 it was also the date of her marriage to the late Mr. Reeves 
 of the Crown and Anchor. She proposed to arrange a 
 gathering of a circle of friends, and it occurred to her that it 
 would be as well to include the Lennards. Grace, wrote 
 Aunt Eliza, was to come along for certain, and, of course, 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 77 
 
 her husband would be with her ; the rest of the family 
 could accept or decline, but they were to realize quite 
 clearly that they had been invited. So Grace hurried to 
 Rosebery Avenue where a conference was held, and it was 
 agreed, with no dissentient, that it would be as well to keep 
 friendly with Aunt Eliza. Hester said a good impression 
 created on the hostess might lead to almost anything ; 
 Robert gave an exhaustive address on wills and how they 
 should be drawn up in order to avoid subsequent compli- 
 cations. Mr. Lennard declared that, of the two invitations, 
 he preferred the one from the Crown and Anchor. 
 
 “ Sounds likely to be more cheerfuller,” he said. 
 
 Grace urged that her own evening was to be regarded, 
 not as cancelled, but merely postponed. Her people said 
 graciously that she might suit her own convenience. 
 
 Aunt Eliza’s evening started with one of those unfortu- 
 nate incidents which sometimes occur on licensed premises. 
 Edmund and Grace, ahead of the rest on account of the 
 eagerness of youth, found as they neared the Crown and 
 Anchor that folk had assembled on the pavement, and any 
 hope that the crowd had gathered in honour of themselves 
 or of Aunt Eliza was dispelled when the two, standing on 
 tip toe, managed to see, in the middle of the group, a white- 
 sleeved barman, a policeman, and a man who had lost his 
 hat. These were the principal figures. 
 
 “ That’s Mr. Chasemore,” she whispered to her young 
 brother. “ He’s a friend' of Tom’s. Find out what the 
 trouble is.” 
 
 “ Like a shot ! ” promised Edmund. 
 
 The lad returned from his investigations to announce that 
 it was a case, not of excessive consumption of liquor, but one 
 representing an attempt to use the house for the purposes of 
 betting. This detected by the owner or one of he;r assist- 
 ants, Mr. Chasemore had been promptly expelled, and was 
 now being warned not to show his face anywhere near the' 
 Crown and Anchor until the incident had faded from 
 memory. 
 
 “ If then,” said the authorities, sternly. 
 
 Peace had been restored when the visitors entered, and 
 they were marshalled by a large and amiable barmaid who 
 ducked under the counter to receive them, and escorted 
 
78 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 them quickly away from the company of inquisitive patrons 
 to a staircase where cook received Grace with open enthu- 
 siasm, and mentioned that she was settling down. “ Me 
 and her,” whispered cook, “ get along first class. She gives _ % 
 in to me, and I pretend to give in to her.” Aunt Eliza, 
 from the landing, drew attention to the fact that she was 
 being kept waiting, and cook had to give up exchange of 
 news, and retire to the kitchen, and allow the guests in order 
 of seniority to proceed. 
 
 “ You’ve gone grey,” said Aunt Eliza to Mr. Lennard. 
 
 “ If,” to Robert, “ you’re as wise as you look, you ought 
 to know a lot.” 
 
 “ I recollect you,” to Hester, “ but I can’t see there’s 
 much improvement.” 
 
 “You’ll do,” she said, to Kate. She gave Edmund a kiss, 
 and put his necktie at a fresh angle ; she nodded to Tom 
 Bannerton. “ But this is the one,” declared Aunt Eliza, 
 advancing to Grace, “I really wanted to see. How are 
 you, duck ? How’s married life suiting you ? Not all 
 it’s cracked up to be in plays, is it ? Still, there’s precious 
 
 few that don’t want to take a share and . Sit down, all 
 
 of you, where you like, and whilst you can. It’ll be stand- 
 ing room only, before long. And talk to anybody. You 
 mustn’t wait to be introduced. We’re Bohemians here, 
 and we don’t have no ceremony.” 
 
 A few guests were already present in the large room, 
 where coloured pictures of racehorses, mirrors impeded by 
 advertisements, and cases of stuffed fish decorated the 
 walls. The carpet had once been a garden of luxurious 
 and variously coloured flowers, but it was in the autumn of 
 its life, and well trodden paths were in evidence. Grace, 
 going across to look at an enormous, frowning portrait of 
 Mr. Reeves in the costume of the Ancient Order of Buffaloes, 
 spoke to the least Bohemian-looking of the visitors ; he was 
 a stout, elderly gentleman, with many chins, and he seemed 
 to be in a critical mood. Replying to Grace’s comment, he 
 said it was an ill- painted picture and that the man respon- 
 sible for it ought to have kept to pavement work. As to 
 Grace’s description, he felt uncommonly glad it was not a 
 speaking portrait ; Reeves happened to be, in his day, one of 
 the most dogmatic licensed victuallers on the north side of 
 
BANNERTON S AGENCY 79 
 
 the river, contradicting everything and everybody, barring 
 his wife. 
 
 “ My aunt doesn’t usually put up with any nonsense,” 
 agreed Grace. 
 
 4 4 If you’re her niece,” he said, 44 I’m not going to say a 
 word against her. Moreover, I shouldn’t in any case. My 
 name, I may mention, is Light. Daresay you’ve heard 
 of me and my system of voice production.” Mr. Light 
 declared that if he himself had a share in the management 
 of the Crown and Anchor tact and amiability would be 
 more pronounced. It seemed he, as a teacher of elocution, 
 had offered to take charge of the entertainment, but the 
 suggestion was declined, and now, if called upon to give 
 any of his well-known Shakspearean efforts, he would 
 probably be ready with excuses. Mr. Light, answering 
 Grace’s polite inquiry, said he had never been absolutely an 
 inside member of the dramatic profession, but had through- 
 out his career been on the very edge, so to speak, and he 
 became animated in giving a description of a talk he once, 
 in the late eighties, had with a West End manager who 
 chanced to hear a recitation given by Mr. Light for the 
 benefit of a local person, who, his wife having met with an 
 accident, was consequently deprived of means of a liveli- 
 hood. West End manager said, 44 My dear sir, forgive me 
 for asking a plain question, but have you ever considered 
 the idea of going on the boards ? ” Mr. Light (then a 
 younger man than now, and not without ambition) con- 
 fessed he had given hopeful thoughts to the subject. “ Take 
 my advice,” said the other, 44 and drop it ! ” Mr. Light 
 told Grace in confidence that if he had but possessed the 
 strength of mind to reject this advice he would, in all 
 probability, be now earning his fifty pounds a week on the 
 London stage, instead of devoting all his time to the keeping 
 together of classes for stammerers, and other imperfect 
 speakers. 
 
 44 We may catch a view of some of the leading stars this 
 evening,” he remarked. 44 Of the profession, I mean. If 
 so, I’ll take it very kindly if you use your influence to get me 
 introduced.” Grace promised to do her best. 44 One 
 never knows,” said Mr. Light wistfully, 44 what it may 
 lead to.” 
 
80 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 “ But aren’t you rather too old now for a change ? ” 
 “ A good make up,” he isaid, “ and a brown wig and a 
 trifle more exercise are all that’s necessary.” 
 
 The room filled, and chairs were brought in from remote 
 apartments ; some, it was clear, were a part of the furniture 
 of bedrooms, and heavily built guests avoided them. Aunt 
 Eliza dispatched one of her admirers for the album of press 
 cuttings in order to settle a difference of opinion concerning 
 a date, and it became Grace’s task to be responsible for this 
 volume with its faded portraits, and .slips of* print browned 
 by age. “ Wouldn’t lose it,” declared her aunt, “ for all the 
 gold in India. If I was deprived of my memories of the 
 past, I’d reckon myself hard up.” 
 
 Aunt Eliza’s album had early pages — not shown to 
 ordinary folk — which betrayed the circumstance that her 
 first steps had a blithesome note. As a child, she danced 
 in pantomime at the Britannia Theatre, Hoxton, and the 
 press notices mentioned her with a dozen others in clearing 
 up names at the end of the criticism. During the following 
 year she was alluded to as “ A veritable fairy. We prophesy 
 that she will, in due course, become a second Taglioni.” 
 There was a genial note, not quite correctly spelt, from the 
 manageress of the theatre to the child’s mother. 
 
 “ Your little girl has been very good through the hole 
 run, and I consider her a patern. I call her a good girl.” 
 After this, clog dancing in a small music hall of Clerken- 
 well, situated at the back of a public house, and the time 
 being the Franco-German War, a fine impartiality was 
 shown by the parents in dressing her first as a German 
 youngster, and then as one of French origin, thus giving 
 portions of the audience a chance of groaning or of applaud- 
 ing as their prejudices went ; the audience being reunited 
 and peace restored when the gifted youngster came on cla,d 
 in a Union Jack costume. Aunt Eliza had once told Grace 
 that the only reason why her life did not finish in those 
 strenuous days was that her mother, wrapping her up in a 
 large Paisley shawl, took her to the place of entertainment, 
 unpacked her, and sent her on to dance ; waited for the 
 end, rolled her up in the shawl again, and conveyed her 
 homewards. 
 
 “ Your own Ma, duck/’ said Aunt Eliza, “ was like 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 81 
 
 her in appearance, and in manner. That’s how it is you 
 three girls have all grown up strong and hearty.” 
 
 Entrance into the legitimate came with a performance 
 in dramas bearing such explanatory titles as “ Parted and 
 Reunited,” and “ Taken from Memory,” and 44 Banished 
 from Home,” and 44 Falsely Accused,” and soon after this 
 began, in the album, tributes from admirers who generally 
 signed with initials, but at times had the courage to give 
 their full names and, in one or two cases, the precise occupa- 
 tion and amount of income. Few omitted to send gifts. 
 Grace, on her first acquaintance with the book, put an inquiry 
 regarding the nature of these presents, and Aunt Eliza 
 said that, for the most part, they consisted of fancy garters. 
 44 A custom of the period, my dear, and there was nothing to 
 take offence at. Besides, they came in useful.” All the 
 notes conveyed admiration of the young lady’s histrionic 
 powers, offered a compliment to her personal charms, and 
 asked for a meeting at which fuller explanations and appeals 
 could be made. Aunt Eliza, now, in the intervals of receiv- 
 ing guests, turning the pages wherein the communications 
 had been fixed, speculated amusedly on the present views 
 of the writers, and wondered if they were not perhaps well 
 pleased now to have received no answer to their fervent 
 letters. 
 
 44 One did come into the saloon bar, duck, the other 
 night. Of course, I’d no notion who he was or who he was 
 searching for, but, in course of conversation, he mentioned 
 the Brit, and one or two plays he’d watched there as a lad ; 
 it seemed he’d been out in the Colonies for thirty years or 
 more. Then he began to talk about me, if you please. Mr. 
 Light and one or two regulars was sitting near, and me and 
 them had all we could do to keep solemn. The old 
 chap simply raved about me as I was then ; my cleverness, 
 my figure, my voice and goodness knows what all. 4 If I 
 was to happen across her, 5 says he, 4 I’d recognize her in a 
 jiffy ! ’ As I remarked, when he’d left, the idea seemed to 
 be that I should never change in the leastest degree, whilst 
 every one else of a sim’larjage was at liberty to alter as much 
 as they pleased. Mr. Light argued that I ought to feel 
 flattered, but — I don’t know — it rather upset me. Think- 
 ing, you see, duck, of what I was, and what I am.” 
 
 6 
 
82 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 The affectionate note in the communications ended rather 
 suddenly, and the programmes disclosed tfye fact that but a 
 brief interval existed between the playing of “ A village 
 girl ” and the playing of “ A duenna .’ 5 Subsequently, 
 proposals of marriage came only from master builders and 
 such like who described themselves as widowers with a 
 young family, and pleaded that they held the drama in 
 high regard ; other communications were from earnest 
 students who took exception to the cuts in a play, or 
 suggested a reading differing from the one adopted. 
 
 “ I was wise to leave it when I did,” declared Aunt Eliza, 
 looking up as a maid bearing a tray entered the room 
 “ Once I began to put on flesh, I realized my stage days 
 were over. So I hopped it sharp, and I’ve never regretted 
 that I did so.” She closed the album with a sigh. Refresh- 
 ments were handed around, and Grace being waited upon 
 by her young brother, she and Edmund sat apart, and 
 ascertained that the general topic for conversation was the 
 sum of money acquired and possessed by the hostess ; the 
 probable length of her life, and the direction in which the 
 money would go when the life ended. 
 
 “ Why is it,” asked Grace, “ that people are always 
 bothering their heads about this ? ” 
 
 “ Because it’s a gamble,” replied Edmund. “ Because 
 it’s in the nature of a lottery. Because it means a chance 
 for some one to get hold of cash without the trouble of 
 working for it.” 
 
 “ I’d rather earn all that I get.” 
 
 “ Some folk are not so particular.” 
 
 “ I shouldn’t treasure it so much if it came to me by 
 chance.” 
 
 “ Easy come, easy go ! ” agreed her young brother, 
 shrewdly. 
 
 A stir at the doorway, and guests pressed forwaid ; they 
 came back, and the news was given, “ Ealse alarm.” The 
 fresh arrivals, it seemed, were only an Alderman, his wife, 
 and daughters. More comm'otion, and on this occasion, 
 the tide did not return ; Aunt Eliza’s voice was heard 
 giving cordial and rapturous welcome, and a tall white- 
 haired figure could be seen in the middle of the crowd. 
 Mr. Light jigged ecstatically up to Grace. 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 83 
 
 “ It’s him/ 9 he cried. “ It’s actually him. Lord ! the 
 number of times I’ve enjoyed his performances.” 
 
 “ Quite true,” said Edmund, standing on a chair, and 
 speaking to Grace in an awed voice. “ Fancy being so near 
 as all this. Come up here, and have a look.” 
 
 Aunt Eliza gave orders, and seats were arranged, by 
 willing hands, in rows ; the pianoforte at the end of the 
 room was slewed around, and lights there turned up. The 
 white-haired actor conducted the hostess to the two centre 
 chairs which were something like those piovided for Royal 
 personages, but rather more worn, and at a signal from 
 Aunt Eliza, the programme started. Tom Bannerton gave 
 himself the duty of handing lady performers to the raised 
 platform, and remaining in near attendance until they were 
 ready to descend, and once when a girl had danced, he 
 swung her around in giving help at the end. 
 
 “ Grace,” called the hostess, over her shoulder archly, 
 “ look after your sweetheart.” 
 
 All the guests watched the great actor closely ; if at the 
 end of a song he gave casual approval, they followed his 
 lead ; if he showed enthusiasm, their hands clapped loudly. 
 There came a pause, and Tom Bannerton told the hostess 
 that the artist due had not, at the moment, presented him- 
 self. Mr. Light offered to Grace an imploring, reminding 
 nudge as her aunt looked across at her, but the young 
 woman resolved to use her influence in another direction ; 
 the announcement was made that Mr. Edmund Lennard, 
 not on the programme, would appear next. Grace’s brother 
 went readily to the platform. 
 
 When Edmund had finished, the great man rose. “ All 
 keep quiet ! ” commanded Aunt Eliza. He wished (speak- 
 ing in his deep voice) first of all, to tender congratulations to 
 the young gentleman who had but just delighted them with 
 a remarkably clever and ingenious performance. (Grace, 
 sitting again next to her brother found her hand gripped by 
 that excited youth). A performance so replete with original- 
 ity was, he ventured to say, a joy to be remembered. He 
 hoped to hear of Mr. Lennaid again, and anything he him- 
 self could do (General cheering.) Turning from this, 
 
 he found the very pleasant task had been entrusted to him 
 of asking them to- drink the health of his dear and ever 
 
84: BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 delightful friend at whose house they had assembled that 
 evening. To her he could declare in honest truth “ With 
 thee conversing, I forget all time.” (Applause.) He was 
 not one of those who considered that a veil should be drawn 
 over early days. His happiest reminiscences were associ- 
 ated with the estimable lady at his side. Who, having seen 
 
 her on the stage, could forget her performance of — of . 
 
 (A whispered consultation with the hostess, and the names 
 and the plays were quoted.) And who could deny that 
 although she had changed the sphere of her activity, her 
 popularity was as great, or perhaps greater than ever ? 
 (Cheers.) Eor himself, he brought, imworthy of the honour 
 as he might be, the compliments of the profession, and these 
 he laid before her, with an assurance of his own profound 
 and never ending regard. (Loud applause.) 
 
 One of the guests rose as the speaker sat down. “ Oh, 
 stop him, stop him ! ” cried Grace. Her brother Robert, 
 undeterred by this, said, loudly and forcibly, “ Ladies and 
 gentlemen, it is a true but little known fact that the earliest 
 
 allusion to the British stage on record may be found in ” 
 
 “ Sit on his head,” directed Aunt Eliza. “ Or else give 
 him chloroform. This toast is for me, and Pm going to 
 acknowledge it, without help from a lelative or any other 
 fusser. What I’m going to say is this. God bless me, and 
 God bless you all, and,” bending down to the great man, 
 “ here’s a kiss for you, old lad, just to remind you of long 
 ago. And now let’s get on with the show ! ” 
 
 At eleven o’clock, and in the room where ladies put on 
 hats and coats, Grace lingered, in order to collect any stray 
 and flattering references to Edmund, and to his success. 
 It happened that the topic of conversation was Mr. Banner- 
 ton, and the excellence of his deportment. 
 
 “ And I’m told,” said one — “ I don’t know how true it 
 is — that he married a mere nobody. Domestic service, or 
 something of the kind. Does seem a pity, doesn’t it, that 
 men should make such awful blunders. What I mean to 
 say, affecting their whole career.” 
 
 Cook was in ambush at the foot of the staircase, and 
 she came forward as Grace went through. “ Everything 
 satisfactory, dearie ? ” asked cook. “ Nearly everything,” 
 answered Grace. “ I still have dreams about our restaur- 
 
 ■ 
 
 
 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 85 
 
 ant,” mentioned cook. “ That,” said Grace, thoughtfully, 
 “ isn’t my particular form of nightmare.” 
 
 In spite of the experience at the Crown and Anchor, 
 nothing interested Grace more than to be at some public 
 affair in which Tom Bannerton was taking a leading part, 
 and, seated amongst folk who chanced not to know her, to 
 listen to their remarks concerning him. At times, she 
 was so fortunate as to encounter the Know-alls ; the people 
 who could submit to anything excepting the charge of 
 ignorance and had, at moments of pressure, to sacrifice 
 accuracy in order to sustain a reputation for prompt 
 answers. 
 
 “ Acquainted with him for years,” they would say. Tom 
 Bannerton having spoken from a platform, and the applause 
 over, eager inquiries had to be met. “ Rather fancy he’s 
 got an independent income. Indeed,” confidentially, “ I 
 happen to know that he has. Money left him by an uncle 
 at Canonbury.” Was he married, asked the inquisitive. 
 The Know-alls shook heads acutely. “ Never shown the 
 least tendency. There was some talk about the eldest 
 daughter of a medical man, but apparently it was nothing 
 more than talk.” The others said generously that the 
 rumour had probably been set about by the lady. 
 
 There were occasions when the remarks proved more 
 truthful, and less diverting, and Grace had trouble to stop 
 herself from entering upon argument ; it occurred to her, on 
 reflection, that even the frank comments were a tribute to 
 her man’s growing importance. There was one evening at 
 the Town Hall when, the proceedings being at an end, she 
 made her way in order to find her husband, and to walk 
 home with him. 
 
 “ You call him,” some one was saying, as she entered the 
 Mayor’s pafiour, “ clever. Now, I should prefer to describe 
 him as cleverish. He is, in my private opinion, entirely 
 
 and absolutely deficient in . Ah, Mrs. Bannerton ! ” 
 
 An impressive greeting offered. “ How do you do, how do 
 you do, how do you do ? Oddly enough we were just 
 talking of your husband. I was saying to my friend here 
 that he is a most remarkable man. Deficient in nothing 
 that enables one to progress xn the world. And — as I was 
 
86 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 going on to mention — becoming distinctly useful to the 
 party. Oh, most distinctly useful. Yes, yes, yes ! ” It 
 seemed to Grace that the speaker had the relieved air of one 
 who has luckily found in a moment of peril an emergency 
 exit. 
 
 To Number Seventeen, the comments were brought by 
 Grace’s next-door neighbour. The tobacconist had, in his 
 role of candid friend, the considerable advantage of a wife 
 who corroborated all the evidence he offered. “ That’s 
 right ! ” she said. And “.He’s telling you gospel truth ! ” 
 And, 44 Word for word, just as he says ! ” Both declared 
 they were not to be reckoned amongst your poll parrots who 
 echoed, without discretion, the remarks which had been 
 overheard. They asked Grace to believe that nothing 
 was further from their intention than to create discord 
 between husband and wife. The two pleaded that, by 
 exceptional circumstances — gentlemen coming into the 
 shop for cigars, tobacco, cigarettes, and ready to indulge 
 in talk over the counter — news came to them which might 
 not arrive at any other establishment in Churton Street. 
 
 44 What is it all about ? ” demanded Grace. 
 
 Mrs. Bannerton was not to get annoyed, said the tobacco- 
 nist, but to remember that, however one might deplore the 
 fact, people would chatter ; it was a way that people had, 
 and there seemed no method for checking it. And, just 
 now, they were saying that Bannerton ’s Agency was going 
 well, and that Mr. Bannerton appeared likely to rope in 
 some of the odd jobs which the borough afforded. (The 
 tobacconist’s wife mentioned that the disappointed were 
 never dumb.) The libellous statements came in regard to 
 the means by which the objective had been reached. It 
 was openly said — here the tobacconist lowered his voice, 
 and glanced around cautiously — that Mr. Bannerton owed 
 everything, or nearly everything, to his wife. In the 
 tobacconist’s opinion, a more unkind remark, or one more 
 damaging to a public man, could scarcely be made. 
 
 44 Let me tell you a secret,” begged Grace. They came 
 near to receive confidences. 44 It’s true ! ” she whispered. 
 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 RACE sat alone in a corner of a private box at 
 
 the suburban theatre. During the renewal of 
 
 acquaintance and a brief exchange of confidences 
 with the programme girl — who gave sound reasons for 
 moving from Islington to Stratford, and hinted that she 
 was in her present occupation only because of a generous 
 desire to help the management — Grace admitted she felt 
 all nerves ; the programme girl was not inclined to allow 
 that anyone could equal her own weakness in this regard. 
 Asked to give views concerning the play in which Edmund 
 was that night engaged, the young woman mentioned 
 that some, on the Monday evening, liked it, and some 
 had no good word to say for it ; a prolonged argument 
 with a colleague at the back of the dress circle on a matter 
 involving threepence had prevented her from giving 
 attention to the stage. 
 
 “ I’ll tell you my decision,” she said, “ later on. Mind 
 you, I’m middlin’ hard to please. I doh’t gush over any 
 show nowadays. Sit where you like in your box, and 
 make yourself comfortable. I shall be looking in again 
 in the course of the evening.” She returned at once to 
 ask if Grace had married since their previous encounter, 
 and, on receiving the answer, said with candour. “ More 
 fool you ! ” 
 
 The important member of the theatrical profession 
 had been as good as his word, or as good as the word of 
 a great personage is expected to be ; Grace’s young brother, 
 sending a note as a reminder of the promise made at 
 Aunt Eliza’s house, received a typewritten letter stating 
 that owing to the enormous business, no complimentary 
 tickets could be issued. On this, Edmund — ever a resolute 
 
 87 
 
88 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 lad, and now unusually determined to remove misunder- 
 standing — went down to Shaftesbury Avenue, and waited 
 near the st^ge door and when he sighted his target, fired 
 a well-aimed application, and was received with the emo- 
 tion that is offered, on the stage, to prodigal sons. “ But 
 why, my dear boy, why have you delayed coming to see 
 me ! Pray come up to my dressing room immediately.” 
 A secretary was directed to appear, and, appearing, had 
 to accept a severe reprimand for inexcusable clumsiness 
 in dealing with the note ; it seemed that if Mr. Lennard 
 had but come along twenty-four hours earlier it would 
 have been the easiest thing to give him a part in the play 
 at that very theatre. The secretary, with the air of a 
 man accustomed to plead guilty, and relieved at not 
 being ordered to undergo instant execution, obeyed com- 
 mands and took Edmund away to see how the deplorable 
 blunder could be repaired. And here was Grace’s young 
 brother, engaged with a touring company, and his first 
 veek, most fortunately, arranged at a theatre within 
 possible reach of Churton Street, as a prelude to visits 
 o Middlesborough, Plymouth, Ipswich, Chester, East- 
 bourne, Swansea, Guildford, Hanley. The card of the 
 tour “ Issued for the informatidn of the Artistes only, 
 and in no way to be taken as a Contract, as it is subject 
 to Alterations,” suggested that full opportunities had 
 been made for the enjoyment of Sunday travel. 
 
 “ I shall expect a letter from you, Grace,” Edmund 
 had said, “ every week. Without fail.” 
 
 “ I’ll buy a writing-pad,” she declared, “ and keep it 
 for you, boy, and no one else.” 
 
 The members of the orchestra began to bob up, one 
 by one, and Grace kept ears alert for a knock at the door 
 of the box that would hint at the arrival of her husband. 
 Tom Bannerton had wavered in his promise regarding 
 the evening, saying, at first, that of course he would go 
 with her. Delighted, delighted. Why was it, he won- 
 dered, that they had not been out together for some time 
 past ? Later, it was announced that special business 
 would interfere ; Grace had better get some one from 
 Rydon Crescent to accompany her ; the answer to this 
 was, that obeying the leadership of Robert, the Lennards 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 89 
 
 contemplated the adventure of the younger son with dis- 
 favour. Robert said that Edmund would most certainly 
 not be permitted to use the family name ; it proved 
 the lad had already made a selection. Later still, the hope 
 was conveyed that it might be possible for Tom Bannerton 
 to look in at some hour ere the performance finished. 
 Eventually, on an urgent demand given as he was hurrying 
 off to meet some one at the tube station, he said, “ Half- 
 past eight, dear one, and not a moment later. My word 
 upon it ! ” 
 
 There occurred a slight hubbub in the far-off gallery ; 
 Grace, as one on the side of good deportment and strict 
 order, felt that the offenders should be thrown out, and 
 their money not returned. The disturbance ceased directly 
 that the conductor appeared and surveyed the house ; 
 the demure part of the audience made the sibilant noises 
 used to express indignation, and to convey reproach ; 
 the tremendous voice of an attendant shouted, “ Stop it 
 up there, can’t you ! ’’and the house became silent as though 
 preparing to listen to delicate and restrained music. At 
 a double tap from the conductor, his men pulled themselves 
 together ; on the movement of his baton they dashed 
 into a furious, clamorous march that was in itself a public 
 riot. It left Grace, in the corner of her box, dazed and 
 almost deaf ; she leaned forward eagerly as the curtain 
 went up. 
 
 In Act One, Edmund, as a precise and middle-aged 
 butler, carried tea on a silver tray down the steps of a 
 mansion and set it on a table in a garden where spring 
 and autumn flowers were blooming, and trees had the 
 half-hidden support of iron stanchions. “ Mine’s a bitter, 
 old man,” said the gallery, and the attendants, and at 
 least one patroness in a box, asked for better manners. 
 Edmund brought also a newspaper which he handed to 
 the old lady of the house who said, “ You can go, Barker,” 
 whereupon he bowed, and went up the steps ; the gallery 
 said audibly of him that he resembled the sailor’s bird. 
 Terrible news was discovered in the journal, and the action 
 of the play started. Edmund did not appear again until 
 it became his duty, near to the end of Act One, to announce 
 a representative from Scotland Yard. 
 
90 
 
 BANNERTON'S AGENCY 
 
 Through Acts Two and Three, Grace twisted her hand- 
 kerchief, and endured all the strain of anxiety. The 
 gallery, ceasing to throw gibes, had become interested, 
 but it seemed to her that for Edmund to be playing a 
 part where he had to ejaculate monosyllables or, as an 
 alternative, to stand about and say nothing, was an 
 ignoble way of earning a livelihood. Better than this, 
 surely, a desk in an office, and the even tenour of City 
 life, with a fixed wage, and residence with one’s own people. 
 
 “ I ought to have advised him,” she said to herself. 
 
 But in Act Four (which had two scenes, with the drop- 
 ping of a curtain to show that an interval of six months 
 occurred) Edmund came into his own. There was a 
 question of getting the young man of the family out of 
 Wormwood Scrubs in order that he should prove his 
 innocence, and Edmund was seen outside the penal es- "j 
 tablishment (that blew to and fro in a way which hinted 
 at want of stability), and there he met a warder, and 
 tackled the warder, and to the open delight of the gallery, 
 which appeared to have no sympathy with prison officials 
 — Grace too, for the time, was against them — threw | 
 him, and stunned him, and effecting a partial and rapid 
 change of costume, went on to the entrance of the building, 
 and was allowed to enter. A brief humorous interlude 
 by a piano-organ man and his wife, and an individual in 
 warder’s uniform emerged from the prison. The audience, 
 identifying him as no warder, but as the unjustly treated 
 son of the family, cheered, but reserved torrential applause 
 until Edmund, the first scene over, came on at the 
 prompt side. 
 
 “ Brayvo ! ” cried the audience vehemently. “ Good 
 on you ! You’re a white man, you are ! ” 
 
 The second part of the last Act was even better and more 
 satisfactory. Here, . Edmund, out of prison somehow 
 (but no one troubled to inquire the means), came to the 
 aid of Scotland Yard, discovering clues which had eluded 
 the C.I.D. men, himself arresting the guilty person, 
 and finally bringing together the hardly treated son of 
 the family, and a girl cousin who seemed too beautiful 
 for words, and, at any rate, had not much to say, but, 
 to her credit, never appeared twice in the same gown. 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 91 
 
 It occurred only then to Grace that her husband had 
 failed to keep his appointment ; a regrettable occurrence, 
 but not without its advantages, in that she would be able 
 to give him a full account of the entertainment and to 
 speak, with no fear of contradiction, of Edmund’s triumph. 
 In the corridor, she met the programme girl, who said: 
 
 “ A rotten play, and a rotten company, if you ask 
 me ! ” 
 
 And Grace pointed out, rather sharply, that the other 
 expressed no one’s views but her own, and that the audience 
 certainly, did not agree with her. 
 
 “ They’ll eat anything that’s offered to ’em,” said the 
 critical young woman. 
 
 Grace, in no way influenced by this view, went out 
 and found the stage door. She asked the man in charge 
 to be so good as to convey to Edmund — mentioning his 
 stage name — the best congratulations of a lady who had 
 been in the front of the house ; the ipan promised to do 
 this, and expressed a hope that the message would not 
 only create pleasure, but suggest the gift of a pint. 
 
 The night had become close and heavy, and folk were 
 saying to each other : “ Does anyone want to buy my 
 headache ?” For Grace the journey home was filled with 
 retrospection ; it seemed to her the lesson of the play 
 might be taken to be that folk who broke the laws of the 
 land were sure to meet with punishment. A consoling 
 reflection, and she trusted the world might continue to 
 adopt this method, in order that right-minded and well- 
 behaved folk, like Tom Bannerton and herself, could 
 succeed in life, whilst those who practised other and less 
 acceptable means would fail. Still buoyed up by the 
 rapture of the evening, the office in Churton Street had, 
 in her thoughts, the air of being full of promise. The 
 registry department was now safe and dependable ; Tom’s 
 various undertakings required time and sifting to make 
 them remunerative. One could not expect life to be so 
 interesting as the stage, for the stage was under an obli- 
 gation to compress events, and to furnish them within 
 the limited period of a quarter to eight until near to 
 eleven. Remembering her own excitement in watching 
 the play, she decided that the leisurely manner of the 
 
92 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 world was not altogether to be commended. Exceptional 
 incidents were too rare, and the few that came along had 
 to be magnified into importance. 
 
 Grace had not finished the comparison when she entered 
 the side door. The moon gave illumination, and enabled 
 her to see on the ledge of the hat stand an envelope ad- 
 dressed simply to G. Inside was a slip of paper in Tom 
 Bannerton’s dashing and hurried writing. 
 
 “ Am going away. Do not worry. Know you can 
 look after yourself.” 
 
 A voice at the open door startled her. 
 
 “ Anyone at home, ma’am ? ” 
 
 “ Yes,” she said composedly, “ I am.” 
 
 “ That,” said the man, “ I have already perceived. 
 But I want Mr. Bannerton.” 
 
 “ He’s gone.” 
 
 “ Any idea where ? ” 
 
 “ Not the slightest,” she declared. 
 
 “ When will he be back ? ” 
 
 “ That I couldn’t tell you.” 
 
 “ Then I must look in again some other time,” he re- 
 marked. “ Evidently, you’ve been trained to say all 
 this, and I don’t suppose, if I talked till I was hoarse I 
 should get any further information out of you.” 
 
 “ Good night ! ” said Grace, closing the door. 
 
 She went into the office, and turning on the light, searched 
 the desk for papers, discovering none which could be 
 reckoned useful. Documents were there in plenty, and 
 forms of application, and pencilled notes made by Tom 
 in his occasional bursts of industry ; there was, amongst 
 them, nothing to supplement or complete the information. 
 Underneath the square of red blotting-paper was his 
 diary, and she turned hastily to the current date. It 
 had two abbreviated entries. 
 
 “ Chase.” This meant an engagement with the betting 
 man. 
 
 “ Dunb.” This meant an appointment with the con- 
 tralto singer. 
 
 At the end of the small book were pages for the record 
 of addresses, and. here she discovered the name of the 
 Mansions in which Miss Dunbar lived. Within the space 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 93 
 
 of one minute, Grace Bannerton was on her way to this 
 destination. 
 
 “ I’m not going to lose my man,” she said resolutely. 
 “ Not without a struggle at any rate.” 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 T HE night porter at the Mansions in Baker Street 
 gave her the number of the flat, and quoted it 
 almost correctly. Grace, preparing to speak in a 
 definite and insistent way, pressed the knob at a door, 
 and the summons was answered at once by a young couple 
 in dressing-gowns. 
 
 “ She lives overhead, we believe, 5 ’ said the young 
 woman. 
 
 “ And if you are going there , 55 said the husband, “ do, 
 for mercy’s sake, ask her to close down. Past midnight, 
 and she’s still bawling!” 
 
 “ Singing,” mentioned his partner. 
 
 “ We want to get some sleep,” he urged. “ And all 
 this thunder about makes it worse.” 
 
 As Grace went up another flight of stairs, she smiled 
 rather grimly to think of the way the musical performance 
 would be interrupted. There remained the question of 
 conveying Tom Bannerton home ; if the omnibuses had 
 ceased running, the best plan would be to take a taxicab. 
 In the circumstances, the disbursement would be passed 
 by any fair-minded auditor. 
 
 “ And you are really Mrs. Bannerton ? ” cried the large 
 lady, with a gesture of welcome. “ A queer hour to make 
 a call, but I am glad to see you. Do come in.” 
 
 “ I want my husband,” said Grace breathlessly. 
 
 “ Now,” remarked Miss Dunbar urgently, “ you really 
 must come inside the door. If other folk in the Mansions 
 hear you making this demand, my reputation will be gone.” 
 Miss Dunbar conducted the way to a pleasantly 
 furnished room, mainly occupied by an ebony grand 
 pianoforte. Grace looked swiftly around at the photo 
 94 I 
 
BANNEKTON’S AGENCY 
 
 95 
 
 graphs in silver frames on a table ; it surprised her to 
 discover that Tom Bannerton’s was not amongst them. 
 
 “ Sit down ! ” begged the large lady. “ I’m just going 
 to have something to eat. We’re late people with our 
 food, you know. We can’t feed before singing, and we 
 make up for it later. Some of us more than make up for 
 it, and that’s why I’m stouter than I’d like to be. I’m 
 not nearly old enough, you know, to be as massive as 
 I am.” 
 
 “ If my husband is here,” said Grace bluntly, “ I wish 
 you’d hand him over to me.” 
 
 “ My dear,” said the other, “ if he were here, I should 
 tell you he wasn’t. Let*s both go over the flat, and see 
 if we can find him.” She held Grace’s wrist good- 
 humouredly, and a tour of the rooms began, with Miss Dun- 
 bar reciting the names of the apartments. “ There,” at the 
 finish, “ that is much more convincing than any statement 
 of mine. The flats being modern, there are no sliding 
 panels or hidden cupboards.” 
 
 “ Has he ever been here ? ” 
 
 “ Never. It was once suggested that he should call ” 
 
 “ Suggested,” demanded Grace, “ by him or by 
 you ? ” 
 
 “ But the idea fell through. Now let us consider where 
 he can have gone. He has a mother.” 
 
 “ But he’s not on speaking terms with her.” 
 
 “ Then let us go through a list of his friends. Mean- 
 while, we’ll have supper together.” 
 
 “You don’t want company,” protested Grace. 
 
 Miss Dunbar gazed down at her. “ Most of the foolish 
 things I have done,” she said, “ were the consequence 
 of loneliness. You don’t know, perhaps, what loneliness 
 means.” 
 
 “ Appears as though I’m going to.” 
 
 Miss Dunbar’s maid had, it seemed, long since gone 
 home, but a chafing-dish kept the food warm, and Grace, 
 with some reluctance, sat at the table. The hostess, 
 when hot rissoles were served, found a sheet of note paper 
 and, in eating, pencilled the names furnished. Some, 
 on Grace’s recommendation, were at once deleted, but there 
 stood the club and its leading members — Tom might 
 
96 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 have given confidence to any of these — and there was 
 Hedley, and there was Watherston, and there was his 
 old firm in City Road. 
 
 “ No women to mention ? 55 asked Miss Dunbar. 
 
 “ So far as I know, none. Besides yourself.” 
 
 The stout lady set down her pencil. “ It’s too bad,” 
 she declared, self-reproachfully, “ that you have had any 
 anxiety concerning me. I like attention. I like courtesy. 
 I like friendship. I make it a hobby to get acquainted 
 with everybody. I’m a collector of people.” 
 
 “ You’d find it wiser to go in for postage stamps.” 
 
 “ Wiser, perhaps,” said Miss Dunbar, “ but not nearly 
 so absorbing. On the strict understanding that my 
 words are not for publication, I don’t mind confessing 
 that now and again I’m rather gratified if a man makes 
 love to me. But in Mr. Bannerton’s case, I knew he was 
 married, and I knew he hadn’t been married for very long, 
 
 and . Well, I’m no trouble manufacturer.” 
 
 “ Some women are not so particular.” 
 
 “ We must make inquiries,” announced Miss Dunbar. 
 “ First thing in the morning, we’ll start. We’ll form a 
 committee of investigation. Perhaps you have a de- 
 pendable relative who could be asked to join in.” 
 Grace, after consideration, announced that she pre- 
 ferred to leave members of her family out of the scheme ; 
 she alluded to Edmund as the pick of the bunch, but 
 mentioned that he was ineligible owing to youth, and to 
 the demands of his new profession. In speaking of her 
 young brother, she was encouraged to refer to the play 
 of that evening, and little inducement proved necessary 
 in order to start the description of the piece. “ And 
 here am I,” she exclaimed at the end, “ giving you the 
 account of it that I meant to give to my husband.” She 
 found her handkerchief. 
 
 “ No tears,” ordered Miss Dunbar quickly. “ Keep 
 them for a more urgent occasion.” 
 
 “ You don’t know — don’t know what it is to lose — a 
 husband.” 
 
 “ I don’t even know what it is to find one.” ; ; 
 
 “ There’s a pretty miserable night in front of me,” 
 said Grace. 
 
 If: 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 97 
 
 Miss Dunbar went to the window, and pulling back 
 the heavy curtains, looked out on Marylebone Road. 
 Returning, she announced that a storm had come on ; 
 Grace, also making inspection, said, more colloquially, 
 1 that it was in truth raining like old boots. 
 
 “ You won’t get a cab,” said Miss Dunbar authorita- 
 tively, “ and there are no more omnibuses, and if you 
 don’t mind the servant’s room, it is at your disposal.” 
 Grace spoke, of her days at Jarford’s Bazaar. Miss Dunbar 
 listened, and presently declared that Grace might con- 
 sider herself an uncommonly lucky girl. 
 
 The two set out, at an early hour in the morning, so 
 soon as the maid arrived. Marylebone, after a night 
 of heavy rain, had the air of being well washed and brushed, 
 and to Grace, the day seemed to open auspiciously. Into 
 such an atmosphere, ill news could scarcely venture. At 
 Churton Street, there were letters in the box, and by 
 Miss Dunbar’s instructions these were opened and read ; 
 they were mainly of a formal nature from various agencies. 
 The wife of the tobacconist next door said, with an effort 
 to conceal amusement, that a gentleman had been knocking 
 at the office door, and in going, made ejaculations which 
 she declined tg repeat. “ By the by,” she said, “ what’s 
 become of your husband ? ” Grace answered that Mr. 
 Bannerton had gone away for a holiday. “ Peculiar time 
 of the year to choose,” said the tobacconist’s wife. Grace 
 feared that Churton Street would not be long ere it held 
 whispered discussions on the subject. 
 
 Mistresses and servants called, and those who arrived 
 perturbed and talkative were sent away serene. Miss 
 Dunbar said that whilst Grace was occupied with these 
 she intended to find Hedley ; there was the possibility 
 that the Leadenhall Street man owned information, and 
 he would certainly be able to give advice. 
 
 “ You’re wonderfully even-tempered with these folk,” 
 she remarked admiringly. “ How is it done ? ” 
 
 “ ! don’t exactly know how it is done,” said Grace, 
 “ but I know I do it. And I like doing it.” 
 
 “ You’ve got the trick of dealing with people. Wish 
 I had it.” 
 
 “ Your gifts,” said Grace, “ are in another direction. 
 
98 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 Get along and see Mr. Hedley. We’re wasting time. 
 I want to see the wheels go round.” 
 
 Hedley came to Churton Street with so much prompti- 
 tude that he reached the office well in advance of Miss 
 Dunbar, who was compelled, by bulk of figure, to make 
 leisurely progress. Hedley knew nothing of the present 
 whereabouts of Grace’s husband, and had no speculations 
 to offer; instead, he found telegram forms, inquired for 
 addresses, wrote swiftly, and raced off to the post office. 
 Miss Dunbar, on arriving, spoke of him as a whirlwind ; 
 the tobacconist’s wife, next door, watched his hurried 
 return with undisguised chuckling. He reported that 
 he had taken the opportunity to telephone to various 
 quarters, and was, in consequence, able to give information, 
 all of a negative character. 
 
 Not at the political club. 
 
 Not at the Bloomsbury hotel, once patronized. 
 
 Not seen by Mr. Watherston, of Finsbury Pave- 
 ment. \ 
 
 “ He must,” urged Miss Dunbar, “ have had some good 
 reason for disappearing.” 
 
 “ May not have been a good one,” said Hedley. 
 
 To the reply-paid telegrams forwarded, answers began 
 to arrive ; the lady next door, now taking an open interest 
 in the proceedings, looked in more than once to say that 
 another uniformed messenger on a red bicycle was coming 
 along. The communication which effected the greatest 
 disappointment was from Tom Bannerton’s mother, who, 
 omitting to take full advantage of the words allowed to 
 her, wired, curtly, “ No.” It was on this that Grace’s 
 helpers disclosed a tendency to argue with each other. 
 
 “ We shall have to scour London,” said Miss Dunbar, 
 with emphasis. 
 
 “ Scour ? ” echoed Hedley. 
 
 “ Scour,” repeated the other. 
 
 “ What do you mean precisely by ‘ scour ’ ? ” 
 
 “ When I say scour,” remarked Miss Dunbar firmly, 
 “ I mean scour, and nothing else.” 
 
 “ My dear madam, have you any idea of the extent 
 of London ? Can you tell me the mileage, east to west 
 and north to south ? ” 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 99 
 
 “ I can’t,” she admitted, “ and if I did, you’d probably 
 contradict.” 
 
 “ If you were wrong.” 
 
 4 £ Or if I were right.” 
 
 Grace interposed, and begged them to remember that 
 much remained to be done, and that both had the intention 
 to assist, and the ability to be of high service. Hedley 
 was about to leave in order to make inquiries at the police 
 station, when one of his junior clerks, who appeared to 
 share the active methods of Leadenhall Street, jumped 
 from a taxicab, raced into the office and made a breathless 
 announcement — “ Sir Walter is asking for you, sir ! ” 
 Hedley, ejaculating “ Good Lord ! ” several times, went, 
 giving no word of farewell. Miss Dunbar said his de- 
 parture was a genuine relief, and offered to go so far as 
 Highbury and see and interview Tom Bannerton’s mother ; 
 she still regarded the telegram from that lady as am- 
 biguous. 
 
 “ Kind of you,” declared Grace. 
 
 There were intervals of business during the day, and 
 Grace found that her mood at these times varied. In 
 the earlier period, there had been nothing but anxiety ; 
 her eagerness was to gain the truth and put an end to 
 suspense. To # this followed annoyance. No one had a 
 right to cause so much disturbance of the mind ; it would 
 be impossible, whatever the explanation might be, to for- 
 give this. Tom Bannerton should have written fully before 
 going away, supplying the reasons, and furnishing a com- 
 plete explanation. If he came in now on bended knees, 
 she would, because of this grave omission, treat him 
 coldly. Subsequently, and at her solitary meal upstairs, 
 affection took the lead. Tom Bannerton was her partner, 
 and anything that happened could never alter that tre- 
 mendous fact. Without him, life would be empty. 
 
 It proved in no degree encouraging to discover that 
 neither of her voluntary assistants came back to report 
 or to help ; the circumstance aggravated her loneliness, 
 and she felt grateful to her neighbour for an occasional 
 word of friendship thrown from doorway to doorway. 
 The tobacconist’s wife thought we were in for a spell of 
 tricky weather, and alluded, in support of this contention, 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 100 
 
 to the storm of the previous night. Continuing her essay 
 in prophecy, she said that London folk, away at the sea- 
 side, or elsewhere, would be scurrying home so fast as 
 trains would carry them. It would not astonish her, in 
 the least, if Mr. Bannerton at any moment made his 
 appearance. 
 
 “ That, at any rate, is my solemn belief,” she said. 
 
 When the hour came for closing the office, Grace put 
 on out-door apparel, and made her way to the police 
 station to repeat inquiries. She could not understand 
 why Mr. Jarford, of Jarford’s Bazaar, entered her thoughts, 
 until the recollection came of a previous visit to a similar 
 building. A wave of hopefulness surged over her. There, 
 she had once found Tom at a crisis in her life ; here, it 
 was possible she might find him again. 
 
 “ First of all,” said the inspector, “ let’s have the 
 gentleman’s name. Oh, Bannerton ! ” With seriousness : 
 “ Yes, Bannerton. Bannerton, of course. Bannerton 
 of Churton Street ? ” Grace nodded, and waited eagerly. 
 “ Ah,” said the inspector thoughtfully, “ Bannerton of 
 Churton Street. And he’s left you, and you don’t know 
 where he’s gone ? ” 
 
 “ I’d give everything I have in the world to find out.” 
 
 “Well,” said the inspector slowly, “ we’d give something, 
 but not so much as all that. As a matter of fact, I’ve 
 sent one of my chaps to your house two or three times, 
 only he’s drawn blank.” The inspector tapped a pencil 
 against his chin, as - though he were playing on a dulcimer. 
 “ It’s like this. We’re keeping a sharp look out, and if we 
 hear anything, we’ll let you know.” 
 
 “ You can’t tellTne any more ? ” 
 
 “ Not just now.” 
 
 Near the steps of the building she encountered Mr. 
 Jarford of Upper Street. Mr. Jarford mentioned that, 
 being still interested in crime, and in theories regarding 
 undiscovered criminals, he had intended to look in at 
 the station to talk a matter over. Grace made civil 
 inquiries concerning Ma, and was preparing to hurry 
 ; on, to think over the meagre information obtained. Mr. 
 Jarford said that, discarding the idea of passing the time 
 gf day to the police authorities, he would walk with her, 
 
BANNERTONS AGENCY 
 
 101 
 
 “ You don’t look happy, Grace,” he went on. 
 
 “ x To tell the truth, I’m a trifle down in the mouth. 
 And I’d rather be alone.” 
 
 “ I trust,” he said, with dignity, “ that I am capable 
 of taking a hint. Before doing so, I should like to call 
 attention to an offer I once made not a hundred miles 
 from where we are now/ I want you to understand, 
 Grace, that the offer in question still exists. I wish 
 you to realize quite clearly ” 
 
 “ Look here ! ” she interrupted, turning and facing 
 him. It appeared necessary to startle him, in order to 
 get rid of his company. “ You needn’t go over the ground 
 again. If ever I’m free, I’ll let you know, and then we 
 can talk about the matter. Meanwhile, giv& it a rest.” 
 
 “ I look upon that,” said Mr. Jarford, more gloomily 
 than before, “ as giving me, to a certain extent, grounds 
 for hope.” 
 
 “ Now, perhaps, you’ll trot off.” 
 
 He obeyed. Grace, looking back when she reached 
 the bend of the street, observed that he was in the centre 
 of the roadway, one hand pressed against his forehead 
 in the way of a man confronted with some new and difficult 
 problem. 
 
 Miss Dunbar furnished in writing particulars of her 
 call at Highbury, and mentioned that, professional en- 
 gagements in the Midlands would take her away for 
 a fortnight. Tom Bannerton’s mother had received her 
 amiably, not in any way because of her mission but by 
 reason of the circumstance that she had seen and heard 
 Miss Dunbar on the concert platform. The elder Mrs. 
 Bannerton knew nothing of her son, and considered she 
 had intimated this plainly by her reply to the telegram ; 
 furthermore, she did not wish to hear of him. The most 
 she promised was this : that if she had news, a communi- 
 cation would be sent — not, of course, to Tom’s wife — but 
 to Miss Dunbar. 
 
 Hedley, consulted, agreed that the method now to be 
 pursued was to give up pursuing. There was, he felt 
 sure, no woman in the case, and some comfort could 
 thus be gained ; it seemed clear Tom Bannerton and the 
 
102 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 police were engaged in a contest, and Tom’s friends had no 
 obligation to assist his opponents. 
 
 “ Be patient , 55 counselled Hedley, “ go on calmly, and 
 everything will come all right . 55 
 
 “ His office work is being neglected . 55 
 
 “ I’ll send you a bright lad , 55 he promised. 
 
 Alfred Plowman submitted himself at Churton Street 
 for consideration, and was taken on at twelve shillings 
 a week. He had applied at Leadenhall Street for a berth, 
 and Mr. Hedley recommended him for favourable notice 
 there, but the wearing of spectacles was counted against 
 him by the firm when he and others were called in for judg- 
 ment. The glasses furnished Alfred with an aspect of 
 thoughtfulness belonging to maturer years, but he / dis- 
 closed his ag^by an appetite for Brazil nuts, and the 
 whipping, in spare moments, of a top ; for the rest, he 
 sat at Tom Bannerton’s desk and engaged on the job of 
 dealing with papers and correspondence, and surprised 
 Grace by his ability. Ladies who wanted new servants, 
 and insisted on giving details of the shocking behaviour 
 of maids who had been, in the mistresses 5 words, packed 
 off about their business, were slightly hampered by Alfred’s 
 presence, and forced to whisper across the counter, but 
 the lad had the manner' of one not attracted by scandal. 
 He proved resolute and unexpectedly convincing in speech 
 when, amongst the men callers, there came a furtive- 
 looking individual wffio inquired whether it was here that 
 one could place money on a horse running in the Nursery 
 Handicap that afternoon. Alfred’s answer made the 
 visitor scamper off as though to save his life. 
 
 “ We want none of these illegal tricks,” remarked Alfred 
 sternly. “ I’ve seen cases, in my knowledge, that have 
 led to all sorts of trouble. It’s risky. There’s an instance,” 
 the lad went on, “ in the newspaper only this morning. 
 You read it, no doubt.” Grace said she had no leisure 
 for study, and he, producing a journal, indicated the report 
 under the heading of Police Intelligence. The heading 
 seemed well and appropriately chosen ; the magistrate, 
 in delivering sentence, alluded in complimentary terms to 
 the detectives engaged in the case. Grace noted one or 
 two familiar names, including William Chasemore, amongst 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 103 
 
 the prisoners charged with contravening the Betting Act ; 
 the magistrate said he hoped that the punishment given 
 would be a warning to others. 
 
 For the first time since her husband’s disappearance 
 illumination came to Grace. 
 
 “ Alfred,” she remarked, handing back the newspaper, 
 “ I have an idea that Mr. Bannerton will be coming home 
 soon now.” 
 
 “ We’re getting on fairly well without him,” said Alfred. 
 “ Here’s a customer blowing in who looks a bit anxious. 
 Watch me deal with him.” 
 
 The caller was Mr. Jarford, and his features justified 
 the description given, but he had no need for any help 
 in regard to insurance of life, or any other business detail. 
 To Grace, he announced huskily that he had news of the 
 highest urgency. “ For your private ear,” he added. 
 Mr. Jarford, it seemed, had been greatly agitated by Grace’s 
 answer to his appeal ; on consideration it looked to him 
 as though he were going out of the frying-pan into the 
 fire. For which reason, he had engaged the services of 
 a private agency that guaranteed to trace missing friends, 
 and he now heard from this agency that there was cause 
 for believing that Mr. Thomas Bannerton had sailed from 
 Liverpool by the Adelbert on the second of the month 
 under the assumed name of George Banner. Further 
 particulars would be supplied when obtained. Mr. Jarford 
 considered it his duty to come along at once. 
 
 “ And I want to ask you a great favour,” he said im- 
 ploringly. “ If he’s away for a certain number of years, 
 and you hear nothing of him, why, you will be, sofmy 
 friend the inspector says, at liberty to marry again.” 
 
 “ Please don’t bother me now.” 
 
 “ I must ! ” persisted Mr. Jarford. “ I’ve come to the 
 conclusion that I don’t want to leave Ma. I’m really 
 happier in keeping single. So will you, as a piece of 
 generosity, and to set my mind at rest, look upon my 
 offer as cancelled ? ” 
 
 The tobacconist’s wife from next door looked in as Mr. 
 Jarford, stuttering words of gratitude, left and said, with 
 an effort at casualness, that a gentleman who had been 
 staying in her house as a boarder for the last few weeks, 
 
104 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 desired to renew an acquaintance with Mrs. Bannerton. 
 The neighbour, now with corner of apron to mouth to hide 
 signs of mirthfulness, withdrew, and Tom Bannerton 
 strolled into the office. 
 
 “ By the by,” he said easily, “ and whilst I think of 
 it. How did Edmund get on with his first appearance ? 
 I want to hear all about it.” 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 NY intention on the" part J of Grace of using the 
 
 language of reproach — described in the neighbour- 
 
 hood by mothers and wives as a jolly good talking 
 to — was baulked by the circumstance that the task hap- 
 pened to be undertaken, with great energy, by other people. 
 Hedley invited Tom Bannerton to walk on the pavement 
 of Churton Street for half an hour, and during that period 
 talked with force and eloquence. The plain-clothes 
 representative of the police division had a consultation 
 of some length at the back of the office, using such phrases 
 as 44 narrow squeak,” and 44 skin of the teeth,” and 
 44 precious close shave,” with the forefinger wagging all 
 the time ; he eventually left, appeased by a shillingsworth 
 of cigars purchased from next door and the gift of a com- 
 mercial diary for the ensuing year that had cost the office 
 nothing. Miss Dunbar wrote from Leicester a communi- 
 cation which she enclosed under cover, in an open envelope, 
 to Grace, asking her to hand it after perusai to Mr. Ban- 
 nerton. Finally, and at a moment when Grace had resolved 
 that duty compelled her to say a few straight words, she 
 found Alfred, the new clerk, giving a solemn reprimand 
 to his master on the subject of companions, and how to 
 select them. 
 
 “ I’m done with the betting crew,” said Tom Bannerton 
 to Grace. 44 If any of the chaps call when I happen to 
 be away — Chasemore is the only one who has any hold 
 over me — get young Goggles here to fire them out. And 
 this being now clearly understood, let us cease harping 
 on the past, and give consideration to the future. There’s 
 lost time to be made up. But it was a shrewd idea of 
 mine, wasn’t it, to hide close by ? ” 
 
 105 
 
106 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 “It would have been shrewder to have avoided the 
 necessity for doing so. 5 ’ 
 
 Restoration of cheerfulness was helped by news from 
 Edmund, who wrote each week, describing the Sunday 
 journeys, the searching for rooms, the deportment of 
 other members of the company, the reception given to 
 the play, and always an anecdote. The anecdote Grace 
 found extremely useful in dealing with young women 
 who came to the registry desk in a grim-faced, truculent 
 way, resolved to pick and choose ere they accepted a 
 fresh situation ; if one could but make them laugh, their 
 outlook changed instantly, and it was easy to persuade 
 them to give their services to any household, irrespective 
 of number of children in the family, or the demand for a 
 hot evening meal. Visits to the Political Club began 
 afresh, and members there, on the reappearance of Grace, 
 tendered a flattering welcome, declaring they had been in 
 tears during her absence, and had indeed gone, more than 
 once, to look at the canal with a view of putting an end 
 to a life that had seemed bereft of joy. Also (and this 
 was a most interesting circumstance) Rydon Crescent, 
 because of a piece of news concerning Robert, begged for 
 Grace’s presence. 
 
 “ Fancy ! ” ejaculated his sisters, with amazement, 
 giving the news there promptly, “ Just fancy, Robert. 
 After all these years ! ” 
 
 Robert was concerned in one pf those occurrences which 
 absorb the attention of relatives, and do not fail, even 
 in the most aloof circles, to provide a subject for lively 
 discussion. The elder son, and self-constituted dictator 
 of the Lennard family, had, with no sort of warning or 
 preliminary hint, suddenly become engaged. Becoming 
 engaged, he seemed to give up interest and control at 
 Rydon Crescent ; when his sisters, from force of habit, 
 made a deferential appeal for his views on some nice 
 question, he said, “Oh, please yourselves, and don’t bother 
 me ! ” He, no longer, vaporized information. He ceased 
 to read aloud excerpts from the printed page. His father 
 had not yet recovered from the novel experience of finding 
 that a statement could be made without being instantly 
 controverted by Robert, and Mr. Lennard was beginning, 
 
 
 I 
 
 
 ■i 
 
 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 107 
 
 slowly and tentatively, to give his own opinions on states- 
 men of the day. When Grace took the journeys to Rydon 
 Crescent of an evening, there came, on the front door 
 being opened, not hushed voices and an impressive caution 
 to respect the studies of Robert, but instead a hearty 
 greeting, and an impetuous torrent of information. 
 
 “ Oh, what do you think, Grace % He’s bought himself 
 a ring.” 
 
 Or — 
 
 “ We’ve come across some poetry he’s been making up, 
 and he can’t find a rhyme to Henrietta.” 
 
 Or— 
 
 “ Such a lark ! He went out this morning without 
 his umbrella, and got as far as the Angel, and had to 
 come all the way back.” 
 
 The attractiveness of the whole business was in no way 
 reduced by the discovery, made by Hester, and ascer- 
 tained by the help of her Mr. L., that Robert, soon after 
 introduction to his sweetheart’s family at Crouch End, 
 had assumed control, and had now become the autocrat 
 of that household. The Crouch End people, formerly 
 regular attendants at church, were induced to travel 
 each Sunday to Fetter Lane, Holborn, where the inter- 
 pretations of a Swedish philosopher were observed. By 
 Robert’s instructions, meat did not appear on the table 
 when he was a guest. The Crouch End folk became pro- 
 hibited from seeing a medical man on any excuse whatever ; 
 if they suffered from an indisposition, they had to wait 
 for Robert’s next call. 
 
 “ Of course,” said Kate delightedly when all this had 
 been reported to Grace, “ we miss him here. We miss 
 him very much. But our loss is their gain.” 
 
 “ My idea,” mentioned Hester, “ is to do everything 
 possible to hurry affairs on. We are not really safe until 
 the wedding breakfast is over.” 
 
 The confidential particulars furnished made it easy for 
 Grace to reciprocate, and, for the first time, she talked 
 volubly of Churton Street, and of its activities, omitting 
 all references to her husband’s disastrous connection with 
 the racing of horses. Details of the registry business 
 were given, with imitations of customers, and allusions 
 
108 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 to the other work of the office induced Hester to suggest 
 that perhaps Mr. L. might be useful. Mr. L., it appeared, 
 had a long list of acquaintances, and if correctly approached, 
 and made to understand that commission would be shared, 
 he would, likely enough, exercise his influence, and bring 
 grist to the mill. This recommendation, taken home 
 and submitted, was derided by Tom Bannerton. He said 
 Grace had better keep to the mistress and servant de- 
 partment, which, he admitted, she understood ; the rest, 
 well within his comprehension, was in his hands. 
 
 “ And I’m working just now,” he asserted, “ like a 
 nigger.” Grace mentioned that she had heard that 
 gentlemen of colour were not too industrious unless well 
 superintended. “ You Lennards,” he ^aid good-tem- 
 peredly, “ can be described as a ruling family.” 
 
 Grace, and Hester’s gentleman, met at Rvdon Crescent, 
 and the two conversed on the subject of commerce, until 
 Hester urged her own claims to attention. Mr. L. (full 
 name, Limpsfield) admitted that, within a certain radius, 
 he held the position of adviser, and that folk came to him 
 with hypothetical cases in order to gain his advice. Suppos- 
 ing, they said, you had a friend and he wanted to insure 
 his life, which office would you recommend ? Or, if you at 
 any time required a loan on house property, where would 
 you go with the fairly good certainty that you were not 
 likely to be swindled ? These and other questions, it 
 appeared, were submitted to him, and hitherto he had given 
 the best information in his power without thought of 
 financial gain ; the idea of securing some return appealed to 
 him. Grace alluded to her husband’s comment on the 
 suggestion. The conference, now with Hester looking on 
 to make sure that nothing but business was being dis- 
 cussed, managed to find a solution of the difficulty. Alfred 
 Plowman at Churton Street brought to the notice of his 
 master, some days later, proposals from a Mr. Limpsfield, 
 described as one of Alfred’s closest and most respected 
 acquaintances. Tom Bannerton accepted the offer. 
 
 This improved Alfred’s position in the office, and the lad 
 told Grace he was beginning to look ahead. A young 
 woman, once a companion at Sunday school and now grown 
 up, and holding opinions of her own, had said that Alfred 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 109 
 
 suffered from the possession of the accent which betrays 
 Londoners. The youth begged for Grace’s view, and this 
 was given with candour, together with an admission that 
 she did not reckon herself faultless where speech was 
 concerned. Alfred declared that something would have 
 to be done in the matter. Grace spoke of Mr. Light’s 
 elocution classes ; Alfred became, the same evening, an 
 industrious student, and at Churton Street, when Tom 
 Bannerton was out, and domestic tasks and office duties 
 permitted, Grace listened to recitals by Alfred and, holding 
 the book, verified the words : 
 
 “Room for the leper, room,” 
 
 and 
 
 66 The Assyrian came down like a thief on the fold,” 
 
 and other bright and attractive examples of literature, 
 keeping ever a sharp look out for errors and slips in pro- 
 nunciation. To repay for this trouble, Alfred willingly 
 consented to acquaint her with details of branches of the 
 office work which Tom Bannerton had kept from her. 
 
 “ I want to feel safer,” she mentioned. “ It wasn’t quite 
 pleasant when he was away to realize that I didn’t know 
 how to grapple with it all.” 
 
 “ There’s a comfort in knowledge,” said Alfred. “ Know- 
 ledge, I mean, of a right sort. In my own case,” he said 
 contentedly, “ each day sees an improvement.” 
 
 “ Wish I could say the same.” 
 
 “ You could, ma’am,” asserted the lad, “ only your one 
 error is in being too modest. The young lady I have 
 previously referred to holds a theory to the effect that the 
 world takes people at their own valuation.” 
 
 “ An awkward jar comes when that doesn’t happen/* 
 said Grace. 
 
 The two conspirators worked well together ; a footstep 
 near the doorway was swiftly reported, and the sound of 
 Tom Bannerton’s voice caused a quick shuffling of papers. 
 Tom Bannerton had, at the moment, public engagements. 
 A committee had been formed, on the direction of the 
 Botough Council, to collect facts for submission to Spring 
 Gardens, and he, by the influence of some members of the 
 
110 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 political club, had been honoured by an invitation to join 
 it. To Grace, he admitted that argument across a horse- 
 shoe table was a game in which he felt ever ready to take a 
 share. “ You like talking better than doing,” she challenged, 
 and he agreed, in strict confidence, that the statement was 
 exact. He alluded to Sir Walter Ferrars, the chief of 
 Hedley’s firm, who, with the aid of his wife, was now 
 trying, for motives that would be disclosed to the borough 
 later, to make himself popular in any and every way : 
 taking chairs, opening bazaars, writing to the local journals, 
 organizing subscriptions. “ I’m keeping in with him,” 
 mentioned Tom. “ He’s a bit of an amateur, and he wants 
 the kind of help I can give.” Grace expressed the hope 
 that this might, in some indirect way, assist Churton Street. 
 Following this, came a request that Mrs. Bannerton would 
 be so very kind as to allow her name to be added to a 
 committee which had existed for some time. 
 
 Grace, on her first attendance at a meeting of the League, 
 watched and listened with interest and abstained from 
 offering comment ; it seemed to her that the motives of the 
 ladies were excellent and the performance less admirable. 
 There remained afterwards in her thoughts the case of Mrs. 
 Wilford. At the mention of Mrs. Wilford’s name, seats 
 were edged forward, and pencils made ready to record 
 notes ; here was evidently a subject to which all were 
 prepared to give interest. The secretary, a jaded-looking 
 man who seemed to have been talked by lady members into 
 drowsiness, made a short statement. Mrs. Wilford, despite 
 all the advice tendered by the League, appeared to be 
 allowing her three children to run wild ; her shop, and her 
 dwelling, did not meet with approbation. 
 
 “ The woman takes no pride in herself,” complained a 
 member. 
 
 “ Utterly devoid of all sense of responsibility,” com- 
 mented another. 
 
 “ I’ve talked to her,” declared the chair, “ and I’ve gone 
 home, I assure you, to Bruton Street with scarcely any 
 voice left.” 
 
 The circumstance that some recommended, no steps 
 should be adopted was enough to persuade others at the 
 table that it was imperative action should be taken, and 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 111 
 
 taken at once. The discussion proved warm and exhilar- 
 ating, and nearly every one but Grace took a hand. 
 
 “ Lady Ferrars,” remarked the chair, 44 has not yet given 
 us the benefit of her views.” The meihber alluded to 
 pushed her sheet of foolscap paper aside and spoke resolutely. 
 
 44 Too much cackle about all this,” Lady Ferrars briskly 
 said. 44 What’s wanted is an object lesson. Get the woman 
 away for a few days ; arrange for two or three of us to 
 manage her home during her absence. Let Mrs. Wilford 
 see how it ought to be done.” A sub-committee was 
 formed consisting of Lady Ferrars, Mrs. Barrett, Miss 
 Thompson. 
 
 Mrs. Wilford was in due course persuaded that a week 
 at the seaside would benefit her health, and on this detail 
 there ensued no argument. The experience included the 
 element of novelty, for whereas, before Wilford went to 
 Sheffield, there had always been one day of holiday annually, 
 at Southend, nothing of the kind had been enjoyed since 
 that period. It was good of the ladies to take so much 
 trouble. Moreover, she felt sure the change would do the 
 children no harm. On this, some further explaining had 
 to be brought in, and Lady Ferrars and her two colleagues, 
 standing at the counter in the small general shop, used all 
 their efforts in contending that to make the holiday real and 
 useful, the youngsters must be left behind. 
 
 44 But supposing,” contended the woman, 44 supposing 
 Wilford, up in the North, was to hear about it ? He’d have 
 a fit ! ” 
 
 Thky assured her that her husband was too well and too 
 busily occupied to indulge in any luxury of the kind ; he 
 would kiiow nothing of the matter until it was over, and 
 then only gratification could ensue. They hinted too that 
 the case of Mrs. Wilford was in the nature of an experiment, 
 and that Mrs. Wilford might well feel honoured at her 
 selection. 
 
 44 Have your own tin-pot way,” she said eventually, 
 with good humour. 44 Only, mind you look after the kids. 
 If anything amiss ’appens to them, I’ll never forgive you. 
 As for the shop, we can get a neighbour to see to that.” 
 Lady Ferrars said the help suggested would not be required. 
 44 Hope you’ll enjoy yourselves,” said Mrs. Wilford. 
 
112 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 The sub-committee met at the offices on the morning 
 selected for the departure, and the members, trying on 
 blue overalls and blue caps, agreed that these were at once 
 serviceable and comely. Mrs. Barrett, and Miss Thompson 
 -hinted at the possibility of inducing one of the illustrated 
 journals to send a man along with a camera ; Lady Ferrars 
 quickly vetoed this. The essay, she declared, would not 
 have a lair chance, if it came into the limelight of publicity ; 
 everything depended on unobtrusiveness. The great thing 
 was to show not only Mrs. Wilford, but other women of the 
 district, that a family of youngsters could be controlled, 
 that a home might be kept tidy and a shop managed with 
 discretion and advantage, and all done without fuss, or 
 uhdue expenditure. On this last detail, Lady Ferrars was 
 firm. In her own domestic establishment, accounts were 
 kept rigidly, and her servants knew that everything was 
 recorded to the last farthing. The disbursements for the 
 week in the Wilford home were not to exceed the amount of 
 average payments, the sum of which had been ascertained. 
 Lady Ferrars described it as not excessive, but adequate. 
 It was in leaving the offices of the League and when Miss 
 Thompson sharpened a pencil that a slight difficulty was 
 encountered. 
 
 “ I want to take a note of everything , 55 explained Miss 
 Thompson, “ because my memory is something that cannot 
 be trusted implicitly. It comes, I suppose, from having so 
 many interests to occupy my mind . 55 
 
 “You are not going to write anything about this, dear ? 55 
 inquired Mrs. Barrett apprehensively. “ You must know 
 that I proposed to do that . 55 
 
 “ I have already arranged , 55 said Lady Ferrars, “ to give 
 a lecture describing my experiences . 55 
 
 Consideration of the matter was, by agreement, postponed 
 because the hour was near for Mrs. Wilford to be ready”to 
 leave. The three hurried along and found that Mrs, 
 Wilford had not yet begun the task of preparation. They 
 sighed reprovingly when she mentioned that there had been 
 the work of getting the children away to school, of clearing 
 away breakfast, of attending to early customers. To give 
 any further advice was, at this point, useless. 
 
 Miss Thompson escorted the woman by omnibus to 
 
 I 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 113 
 
 Victoria station, after Mrs. Wilford had announced, once 
 more, that no harm must come to the children ; Lady 
 Ferrars at the shop remarked to her other colleague that 
 there did seem to be something like affection in these house- 
 holds, although this was not always apparent. There was 
 no time to discuss the matter, for Mrs. Barrett had to 
 undertake the setting in order of the contents of the shop, 
 whilst the other took charge of the room at the back and 
 the rooms above. When Miss Thompson returned, with an 
 account of a scene at the station where Mrs. Wilford 
 suddenly repented her decision and begged to be allowed to 
 go home, and had to be almost forced into the train, then 
 Miss Thompson’s services were competed for by her two 
 partners ; in the end her help was obtained by Lady Ferrars. 
 It seemed there was trouble in securing hot water. Lady 
 Ferrars said a boiler ought to be provided ; one could do 
 next to nothing with a kettle. All the same, progress was 
 being made when the three children arrived from morning 
 school. 
 
 “ Dinner ready ? ” they shouted. 
 
 “ Here are the darlings,” announced Mrs. Barrett, with 
 enthusiasm, from the shop. She addressed them plea- 
 santly. “ And you’ve all been good at school ? Good 
 dear children, eh ? ” 
 
 “ We have to,” answered the elder boy. “ Dinner 
 ready ? ” 
 
 t “ It’s a great blessing,” went on the lady, “ that you have 
 school to go to. To learn discipline and self-control, and at 
 the same time gain some of the rudiments of education 
 that will help you in after-life to ” 
 
 “ Dinner ready ? ” they asked again. 
 
 Lady Ferrars confessed to an oversight in regard to the 
 meal, and Miss Thompson said that she, too, had completely 
 forgotten it ; in Miss Thompson’s case the omission was 
 excusable in that she held a theory concerning food at 
 midday, reckoning it superfluous, and indeed harmful. 
 This view did not seem to appeal to the Wilford children. 
 The youngest, on hearing that dinner had not been pre- 
 pared, wailed aloud for her mother. 
 
 “ Now, now,” said Lady Ferrars, “ we can’t have this, 
 you know.” 
 
 8 
 
114 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 “ I want mother to come ’ome” 
 
 “ Use your handkerchief, and stop crying. We are just 
 in the middle of our work, and it’s all very disturbing. 
 Look here ! ” Finding her purse. “ You will each take 
 sixpence each — a bright new silver sixpence — and go along 
 to the ham and beef shop and buy just what you like to eat. 
 And come back and have a wash before you go to afternoon 
 school.” 
 
 Miss Thompson, relieved that the crisis was past, did not 
 feel certain that her friend had acted wisely. She had 
 thought the idea was to conduct the household on the lines 
 of approved domestic economy, a subject to which Miss 
 Thompson had given considerable attention. Lady 
 Ferrars argued tl^at she had, at any rate, managed to get 
 rid of the children for a space. The youngsters did not 
 return as expressly directed, and the ladies came into 
 agreement over the question of making children respect the 
 laws of obedience. They said that the three must be 
 reprimanded, separately and collectively, and forced to 
 understand that instructions were not given in order to be 
 wilfully disregarded. 
 
 Lady Ferrars went off with Mrs. Barrett to take lunch at 
 the offices, and later sent word to the shop that they had 
 been called away by an urgent summons from the West 
 End, where a drawing-room meeting had unexpectedly 
 found itself short of speakers. Miss Thompson, invested 
 with sole authority, left the household tasks, which she 
 relished in theory only, and took up a position in the shop, 
 and enjoyed herself thoroughly. Women customers, 
 arriving for two-pennyworth of something, chatted freely, 
 and helped in the minor detail of serving by the pointed 
 finger of discovery, and an intimate knowledge of prices ; 
 they gave accounts of members of their families and rumours 
 concerning folk living near, and the pages of Miss Thompson’s 
 note-book, made up in the intervals of traffic, became filled. 
 It w r as just what she had often desired. Committees were 
 all very well, bub one did not get close to the people. Near 
 to four o’clock, two women came in and gave orders, and 
 Miss Thompson took some pride in executing the com- 
 mission, and in wrapping up the articles neatly. 
 
 “ One and eight in all,” she announced. 
 
 1 
 
 
 p 
 
 I 
 
 - 
 
 
115 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 “ We’ll pay Sat’day,” they said. 
 
 ]\tiss Thompson took a firm and a definite attitude. The 
 giving of credit, she said resolutely, was one of the greatest 
 banes in existence. It was trying for the shopkeeper ; of 
 no real advantage to the customer. Running into debt 
 meant that you were always behindhand with payments, 
 and that you never correctly appreciated the great facts of 
 in-coming and out-going. The women, amazed at the tone 
 of the argument, said that Mrs. Wilford had always been 
 ready to meet them in this way ; they inquired whether the 
 lady herself had no outstanding accounts of her own 
 awaiting settlement. Miss Thompson declined to answer 
 the question. The two women, consulting each other with 
 a look, grasped the parcels and made off through the shop 
 doorway. Miss Thompson, lifting the flap of the counter, 
 followed them swiftly, and called a constable who happened 
 to be passing. 
 
 4 c Well now, miss,” he said, after listening, “ let us 
 regard the whole matter calmly. You, I understand, are 
 to use a legal expression, merely acting as local 
 tenems.” 
 
 “ Never mind about that,” she retorted excitedly. 
 “ Those women have taken property that does not belong to 
 them. I want them to be locked up.” 
 
 “ No doubt there's something to be - said from your 
 point of view. These little incidents are very annoying, 
 especially when you’re not used to them. But if they 
 promise to pay you on Saturday, no doubt they will pay 
 you on Saturday. Is it worth while for you to give up a 
 lot of your valuable time just for the purpose of ” 
 
 Miss Thompson, declining tp argue or to listen to argu- 
 ment, ran after the women who were on the point of dis- 
 appearing from sight. She came back, twenty minutes 
 later, to find some coins on the ledge of the counter. Folk 
 had looked in, during her absence, and managed their own 
 purchases. 
 
 “ Most distracting,” she complained vehemently to a new 
 customer. “ These people render one’s life unendurable. 
 Why am I left alone to cope with all the difficulties ? It is 
 more than one person’s work to do everything, and I really 
 do consider . The truth is I am at my wit’s end.” The 
 
116 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 . n 
 
 new customer suggested that it had not been an exhausting 
 journey. „ | 
 
 A girl entered the shop to deliver a message from the 
 schools. The Wilford children had not attended the 
 afternoon session ; the teacher considered it wise to com- 
 municate the news in order that any action, reckoned 
 necessary, might be taken. Miss Thompson implored the 
 caller to advise her, and counsel being given, urged that the 
 girl should be a dear good creature and lend a willing hand 
 to the task of discovery. The girl had other demands on < 
 her time, but promised to send around the information 
 that the Wilford youngsters, if seen, were to be directed 
 to return home without delay. 
 
 They came in at five o'clock, shouting a demand for tea, 
 and evidently well pleased with themselves. To direct * 
 questions put, the elder boy answered that Miss Thompson 
 was not his mother, and that she had no business to talk i 
 to him in a manner that only a parent should adopt. He 
 refused to disclose how the afternoon had been spent. In ■ 
 the course of discussion, the other two began to give an ^ 
 account of a remarkable film seen by them an hour since. $ 
 “ If you must know," said the elder boy, “ but, mind you, 
 you’ve no right to ask, we each of us ijsed threepence of the 
 money to go and see the pictures." 
 
 “ xlnd you dared to stop away from school ? " 
 
 “ Have some sense about you," he urged. “ How could 
 we go to school, and be at the, movies, at one and the same ^ 
 time ? " 
 
 Miss Thompson, greatly exasperated, said that punish- 
 ment was necessary ; this should take the form of giving \ 
 them no tea. The youngest wept, and asked to give a 
 -reason, explained that she was hungry. Miss Thompson, 
 touched by this, repented her decision, and set bread and * 
 blitter in the room at the back of the shop. 
 
 The Wilford children, their taste for revolution appeased 
 by the afternoon’s excitement, comported themselves after ^ 
 tea in a way that made criticism unnecessary. The elder 
 boy lent a hand in the shop. The other two washed up the 
 cups, saucers, and plates. The youngest was being put to 
 bed, greatly amused by Miss Thompson’s direction that 
 prayers should be recited, when Mrs. Barrett returned to 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 117 
 
 accept her share of duty and to explain the absence of her 
 colleague. Lady Ferrars was suffering from a slight 
 headache, consequent either on the manual work of the 
 morning, or the demands on her voice and brain of the 
 afternoon ; she sent apologies, together with the hope that 
 it would be possible for her to resume an active share in 
 the task on the morrow. 
 
 “ That is all very well,” said Miss Thompson aggrievedly, 
 “ and of course we must do the best we can without her, 
 but it is not quite playing the game.” 
 
 “ She looked ill.” 
 
 “ Yes[ yes. What I mean is this. Here we are, three of 
 us, undertaking to do the work of one person away at the 
 seaside. Three as against one. It sounds easy, but it is 
 not easy. And if, at the slightest suggestion of an ache or a 
 pain, one of us is to fall out, why, the week’s job will be 
 harder than ever.” 
 
 “ She must make up for it,” said Mrs. Barrett, “ when 
 she returns. I certainly understood there was to be a fair 
 division of the labour. Still,” cheerfully, “ we’ve nearly 
 got through the first day.” 
 
 A piano organ started its amazing trills just outside the 
 shop, and wakened the youngest Wilford. The elder boy 
 put up the shutters, and asked whether, in consideration of 
 the fact that he had been good, he might, as a reward, be 
 allowed to have a run out on his roller skates. The ladies 
 had to address him seriously. The consciousness of per- 
 forming acceptable deeds, they said, should be in itself a 
 sufficient prize ; furthermore the defections of the after- 
 noon had not been forgotten. 
 
 “ You two do ’arp on a grievance,” he complained. 
 “ Mother’s plan is to give us a clout side the ’ead, and forget 
 all about it.” They pointed out the advantages of their 
 method. To escape argument he went upstairs. 
 
 “ Where are you going to sleep, dear ? ” inquired Mrs. 
 Barrett of her companion. 
 
 “ At home.” ^ 
 
 “ Oh, but . I quite understood . I don’t know 
 
 how the idea came into my mind, but I thought you were 
 
 going to stay the night here. Somebody must do 
 OA » 
 
118 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 44 Somebody certainly must,” agreed Miss Thompson 
 quickly, 4 4 but it is ridiculous to expect that I should do it. 
 You’ll find the sofa over there the best place.” 
 
 “In a strange house, and all by myself, excepting for 
 the children ? Why, I shan’t sleep a wink.” 
 
 44 That,” said the other, 44 is for you to decide. I am 
 going now.” 
 
 The youngest Wilford had been induced to go to bye-byes 
 once more, when a fire engine raced clamorously along ; 
 not fear but curiosity induced the three children to run to 
 the window. The elder boy began to dress ; the second 
 child urged that the qualification of age justified her in 
 accompanying him to the scene of the fire, wherever it 
 might be. Mrs. Barrett ordered them to return to their 
 beds. Strenuous argument followed. Neighbours, next 
 door, rapped at the wall as a caution that peacefulness was 
 desirable. As Mrs. Barrett was closing her eyes in the 
 sitting-room, a group formed outside the shop', made up of 
 folk who had been spectators of the fire, and they dis- 
 cussed the incident loudly, vehemently, lengthily. At 
 midnight, there came from somewhere near a scream of 
 4 4 Murder ! ” and hurrying footsteps could be heard ; for 
 the rest the district seemed unperturbed. At an early hour, * 
 market vans began to roll along. 
 
 44 Had a good night, dear ? ” asked Miss Thompson, 
 arriving briskly. 
 
 44 No ! ” 
 
 44 1 slept like a top.” 
 
 44 Oh ! ” 
 
 44 Lady Ferrars telephoned through whilst I was at 
 breakfast to say that we must not rely upon her for any 
 further help.” 
 
 44 Really ? ” 
 
 44 Fortunately, there remain the two of us to carry on. 
 
 It will be all the more to our credit if, without her assist- 
 ance, we are able to manage.” 
 
 44 You think so ? ” 
 
 44 Now,” said Miss Thompson, in a persuasive way, 44 we 
 must share the duties equally. Her absence, you know, 
 really rather simplifies matters.” 
 
 44 Does it ? ” 
 
119 . 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 Miss Thompson gazed at her friend curiously. 44 There is 
 something odd about you this morning, dear,” she remarked 
 solicitously. 44 You don’t appear to have liked your first 
 night here. A novel experience, of course, but you’ll soon 
 get used to it.” 
 
 44 I shall not get used to it,” said Mrs. Barrett firmly. 
 44 Never again will it happen to me.” 
 
 44 Am I then to do everything single-handed ? ” asked 
 Miss Thompson excitedly. 
 
 44 Why not ? ” said the other. “ Mrs. Wilford did.” 
 
 At the next meeting of the League, Miss Thompson 
 begged permission to refer to the case of Mrs. Wilford. The 
 duty was imposed on her because Lady Ferrars and Mrs. 
 Barrett had been ordered away to the country for a month 
 or two of rest. Miss,, Thompson felt happy to report that 
 in spite of some difficulties, all had gone well. She herself 
 had devoted the best part of two days to the task ; a 
 capable neighbour took charge during the remainder of the 
 time. Mrs. Wilford was now home, and described herself 
 as glad to be home. 
 
 4 4 We seem, so far as I can gather,” interrupted the chair 
 complacently, “ to have achieved that which we set out to 
 achieve.” 
 
 44 What have we achieved exactly ? ” inquired Grace 
 Bannerton. 
 
 44 If there is nothing else arising out of the minutes,” 
 went on the chair, 44 we will get on with the agenda. 
 4 Resignation of honorary secretary.’ ” 
 
 There, came — at a moment when the political club 
 decided, on account of its satisfactory finances, to pay a 
 wage to its secretary ; when a letter of congratulation had 
 come from certain headquarters regarding some new busi- 
 ness that arrived from Hester’s friend via Alfred ; when 
 Sir Walter Ferrars had spoken at a meeting of his valued 
 and invaluable friend Mr. Bannerton — there came to 
 Grace’s husband at this moment an offer. The offer was 
 submitted by a person in authority in a furtive way. 
 
 44 Daresay lean arrange for you to have the job, Banner- 
 ton, if you are particularly keen to take it on. My wife is 
 a member of the League committee. 
 
120 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 “ A great deal too much occupied,” answered Tom 
 Bannerton curtly. 
 
 “ All right, all right.” In a nettled way. “ No harm in 
 asking, was there ? ” 
 
 The person in authority who had offered the suggestion 
 made no further reference to it in consultation with his 
 wife (he was one disposed to cloak his failures, and to 
 exploit only successes). Consequently, the debate on the 
 appointment of a secretary to the League went on, and 
 names were submitted and folk said of certain of them that 
 they would not do at any price, and of others that the task 
 was not nearly big enough. In the end, the committee 
 did, as committees often do when a problem declines to be 
 solved, and appointed a small sub-committee to deal with 
 the affair, and to take the necessary steps. On the sub- 
 committee was a lady who, after a chat with Grace at one 
 of the meetings, had found a load taken from her shoulders 
 by a visit to the registry office at Bannerton’s Agency, had 
 been cheered by amicable talk there, and had come away 
 with an added high opinion of the intelligence of the young 
 woman in charge. So that when presently she said, “ But 
 surely this is not necessarily a man’s job ! ” then the others 
 asked eagerly if she had any one in her mind. “ I have,” 
 she answered firmly, “ and I guarantee her to be the right 
 and proper person.” Would she be so very, very kind as 
 to interview this desirable lady and ascertain if she were 
 willing to accept ? Nothing easier. “ But, mark you, 
 she is not quite a lady.” The sub-committee, with a 
 splendid air of liberty, equality and fraternity, said this 
 did not matter, providing the young woman had the ability, 
 and the readiness to work hard for no payment. At 
 Churton Street, Grace detached herself from the class of 
 instruction superintended by Alfred, and, after listening to 
 the proposal, said at once that afternoons could not always 
 be conveniently managed. The envoy plenipotentiary 
 said, with like alacrity, that the fortnightly meetings > could 
 be held in the evening ; the rest of the task might be carried 
 out by dear Mrs. Bannerton, at her husband’s office, and at 
 any hour. Consent given. 
 
 A packet of official letter forms and envelopes came from 
 the printer ; one of these she laid upon her husband’s desk 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 121 
 
 in the expectancy that he, on catching sight of it, would 
 give a word of congratulation. 
 
 “ I say, Grace ! ” he remarked, taking up a sheet of the 
 letter paper. He spoke imthe tones that are used in blaming 
 a child for some fault committed through ignorance. “ You 
 should have asked me about this.” 
 
 “ If I had, it wouldn’t have been such a surprise for you.” 
 He took a pencil, and wrote a few lines. “ Copy that,” 
 he directed, “ and post it off. And another time, do 
 consult ” 
 
 “ But I’m not going to give it up,” interrupted Grace, 
 flushing. 
 
 “ Not if I ask you to do so ? ” 
 
 “ No.” 
 
 “ Not if I order you to do so ? ” 
 
 “ Dear me, no.” 
 
 He gave a command to Alfred to take a message. The 
 lad put on cap and overcoat, and set off. 
 
 “ Now then,” said Tom Bannerton, in reasonable tones, 
 “ let us settle this matter before we go any farther.” 
 
 “ It is settled,” she remarked. 
 
 “ If there was any likelihood that you would do the job 
 well,” he persisted, “ I should have nothing to say about it. 
 Apart from this, your place, little girl, is home. You look 
 aft$r that, and we shall not quarrel.” 
 
 “ We shan’t do that, in any case.” 
 
 “ How do you know ? ” 
 
 “ Because it takes two. I can quarrel with other people, 
 but not with you.” 
 
 “ You’re a good-tempered chick,” he said, “ and, in that 
 respect, I’m fortunate. But I don’t know that I shall reckon 
 myself lucky, if you take on this, and make a mull of it.” 
 “ That isn’t the intention.” 
 
 “ I know, I know. But it’s certain to be the result. 
 And I can’t afford to be connected with a failure that will 
 be talked about all over the district. I’m contriving to 
 make myself known to a lot of folk, and it won’t be agree- 
 able for me to be reminded, day in and day out, of the 
 blunders you ” 
 
 “ Let’s have better reasons than that. Do you think my 
 education isn’t good enough ? ” 
 
122 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 “ I was coming to that, presently.” 
 
 “ We’ll come to it now,” she said. “ My schooling was 
 just about as adequate as yours. I shouldn’t have gone out 
 to work only that I belonged to a family where every one did 
 something.” 
 
 “ You are not accustomed to dealing with correspondence.” 
 “ I had some practice,” she retorted, “ during all that 
 time you were hiding away.” 
 
 He stamped up and down the office, and set one or two 
 notices straight. Grace sat near the counter hoping the 
 discussion would end soon ; she felt not quite confident 
 regarding her own powers of endurance. 
 
 “ I suppose,” he said, “ you are aware they offered the 
 position to me? ” 
 
 “ I wasn’t aware of it. You didn’t tell me. But I don’t 
 know that it would have made any difference.” 
 
 “ And you are resolved then to give up your home duties, 
 and to sally forth ” 
 
 “ Don’t make me laugh,” she begged. “ Sounds like a 
 girl’s name. I’m going to sally forth, as you put it, one 
 evening in every other week. Your meal will be left ready, 
 in case I am delayed.” 
 
 “ The mistake was,” he acknowledged with a sigh, “ in 
 allowing you to take a share here.” 
 
 “ If you hadn’t made it, these premises would have been 
 to let, long ago. And you know it, only you like to 
 pretend that you don’t.” 
 
 “ I suppose,” ironically, “ you imagine that you and 
 Alfred could run the whole show, all on your own ? ” 
 
 “ If necessary,” she answered, u we could try.” 
 
 Alfred returned from his errand, and delivered the reply 
 entrusted to him. His master gazed through the window 
 for a space, and then announced an intention of running 
 down to the City. 
 
 Members of the committee — assembled, as before, in a 
 room where generations of Nonconformist ministers, from 
 the time of flowing side whiskers, to stiff short beards, and 
 on to the clean-shaven period, looked down austerely from 
 maple frames on the walls — proved helpful, and the new 
 honorary secretary received congratulations. Esteem was 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 123 
 
 increased by the fact that she did not interpose in the debate 
 but sat quietly on the right of the chair, and took notes. 
 The main cause of her predecessor’s unpopularity and the 
 chief excuse for his retirement had been his deep knowledge 
 of the rules affecting procedure, and his determination that 
 none should be broken, frayed, or twisted. The ladies, 
 seated around the table, now found themselves able to talk 
 freely and with comfortable irrevelance. The chair gave 
 her decisions on resolutions and amendments, and amend- 
 ments to amendments, without fear of contradiction.^'Lady 
 Ferrars came in as the proceedings ended, and the new 
 secretary was directed to read the notes ; Lady Ferrars 
 thanked her and Spoke to the committee of the activities of 
 her husband in the borough, and of her own desire to take a 
 more notable part. 
 
 “ Anything ! ” she cried, twirling an enormous muff. 
 “ Don’t care what it is. Any blessed old move that’s on 
 the board.” The others stared for a moment, but, recol- 
 lecting it was a titled person -who spoke, they beamed 
 appreciatively. “ Are you local ? ” To the secretary. 
 Grace admitted she lived in the neighbourhood, and was 
 well acquainted with it. “ You’re the gel for my money,” 
 said her ladyship privately. “ You stick by me, and I’ll 
 stick by you.” 
 
 “ What I feel is that we of the League ought not to try 
 any more Wilford sort of experiments.” 
 
 “ That’s my idea, too.” 
 
 “ We should help only the people who require help, and 
 seem to be helpable.” 
 
 “ I’ll back up whatever you suggest,” promised Lady 
 Ferrars. 
 
 Grace felt some delicacy in preparing to give at Churton 
 Street an account of the evening ; she was saved from any 
 necessity to exercise tact by the circumstance that Tom 
 Bannerton brought news reckoned of far higher importance. 
 He had spent a long afternoon and some of an evening in 
 the company of Beau Brummel, known in the City as Mr. 
 Theodore R. Watherston. The old chap had made a very 
 generous offer, and Tom Bannerton, on the following 
 Monday morning at nine forty-five sharp, was going into 
 partnership at Finsbury Pavement. 
 

 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 T OM BANNERTON’S excitement regarding the 
 transfer to the City went on. 
 
 “ You see, it’s like this. I supply what he lacks, 
 
 and what I lack- .” He seemed to feel there was no need 
 
 to finish the sentence. 
 
 There came talk of closing the office in Churton Street, 
 and a hint that this had been understood during the con- 
 ference at Finsbury Pavement ; Grace said promptly it 
 was most certainly not going to happen. Churton Street 
 would still be wanted for the registry department ; she 
 saw little reason why, with the help of Alfred, the other 
 branches of the work should not go on, her husband acting 
 as a kind of advising director. If the City prospects were 
 all that Tom Bannerton suggested, an experiment could be 
 made of taking assistance for the domestic side of the 
 establishment ; a young woman had been rejected by several 
 distresses who admitted a preference for bright-looking 
 people about the house, and Grace believed the girl’s defects 
 were exclusively on the surface. 
 
 So Alfred was given an increase in salary 
 
 “ I shall do my level best, ma’am,” lie said formally, 
 “ to deserve and, if I may say so, justify your confidence.” 
 And Gladys arrived, with tin box, to engage on duties 
 upstairs, and Tom Bannerton applied strenuous hours (his 
 own description) at a tailor’s establishment and at others 
 near. The City, he mentioned, had a high standard of 
 apparel, and any who did not reach it, whether in regard to 
 suits, headgear, neckties or boots, might just as well refrain 
 from taking omnibus or tramcar to Moorgate Street. 
 Watherston did not know everything, but he knew this, and 
 Grace was invited to recall the spick and span appearance 
 
BANNEBTON’S AGENCY 
 
 125 
 
 of the old chap on the occasion of her visit to his office. 
 Grace inquired whether the middle-aged lady who had 
 furnished a written caution was still in Mr. Watherston’s 
 employment ; it appeared the lady in question had made 
 herself indispensable to the business. 
 
 There was a sense of impending relief at Churton Street 
 when, on the Monday morning, Tom Bannerton, having 
 come to a decision concerning the angle of his new silk hat, 
 prepared to leave. He gave a kiss to his wife, and a 
 direction to Alfred that there should be, in his absence, no 
 slackness. 
 
 “ I shall watch the results, mind you, very closely,” he 
 said with determination. “ There’s no sense in keeping 
 white elephants. The moment I finely the concern doesn’t 
 pay, it will be shut down. Understand what I mean ? ” 
 
 “ Leave Alfred alone,” begged Grace. “ He can be 
 depended upon.” 
 
 Her husband called her to the doorway. “ You get no 
 work out of these people nowadays,” he whispered, “ unless 
 you keep on harrying them.” 
 
 “ My plan is to set an example.” 
 
 “ You believe in keeping dogs, and barking yourself ? ” 
 
 “ You’ve guessed it.” 
 
 “ We shall see what happens,” he said. “ I intend to 
 keep my weather eye open here.” 
 
 There did ensue, for Churton Street, a certain amount of 
 intermeddling. If the master of the household returned 
 from Finsbury Pavement in time to exercise authority, he 
 questioned Alfred sharply on the business of the day, and 
 never failed to announce that this and this should have been 
 managed differently, and that and that should not have been 
 done at all. The lad took blame with stolidity, but his 
 mother called one evening tc Y see Grace, and declared that 
 the boy took it all to heart something terrible. Money, she 
 acknowledged, was money, and she had no word to say 
 against it ; on the other hand comfort was comfort, and one 
 could scarcely say too much in its favour. Unless Mr. 
 Bannerton stopped his jollying, Alfred’s mother proposed 
 to find out whether the City office which had once declined 
 the lad’s services would now accept them. Grace offered 
 to see her friend Mr. Hedley, and to discover from him if 
 
126 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 Leadenhall Street had changed its view in regard to the 
 wearing of spectacles, and on this Alfred’s mother urged 
 that no step of this kind should be taken ; Alfred’s heart — 
 already referred to— was, together with his soul, devoted to 
 Churton Street and to Mrs. Bannerton ; he would be happy 
 nowhere else, and did Alfred hear that his parent had spoken 
 of all this, he would not easily forgive her. 
 
 “ The way he talks of you, ma’am. The admiration he’s 
 got ! Seems to have an idea that the only fit place for you 
 is ’Eaven.” 
 
 “ Ultimately, perhaps. But for the present, Churton 
 Street.” 
 
 “ Quite so,” said Alfred’s mother. “ The next world may 
 be all it’s cracked up to be, but you very seldom meet 
 any one, even with your church and chapel people, who’s 
 in a tearing ’urry to go there.” 
 
 “ We’ll make this one as pleasant as we can for your son.” 
 
 “ Go’ bless you ! ” said Alfred’s mother. 
 
 Grace chose words to be delivered on the subject of non- 
 interference, but a portion of them only had to be given ; 
 her husband was now absorbed in a scheme which he 
 alluded to as a gigantic undertaking, and Beau Brummel 
 had, in the most flattering way, entrusted the major part 
 of the early stages to him.' Old Watherston said his new 
 partner had youth, energy, courage, intelligence, amia- 
 bility ; he himself could claim to possess some, but not all 
 these gifts. They counted for much in the City, and here 
 was Bannerton’s opportunity to use them to full advantage. 
 Also, Watherston communicated a vague but rather 
 encouraging message from" Highbury. The elder Mrs. 
 Bannerton intimated that she was not displeased to hear 
 that her son was at Finsbury Pavement, and again under 
 the control of good influences. 
 
 “ One or two people may be on my side,” commented 
 Grace amusedly, “ but she votes against me every time. 
 Both hands up,” 
 
 With gratifying incidents to report, Tom Bannerton took 
 the recommendation affecting control at Churton Street 
 without giving himself the trouble of arguing ; if Grace 
 really held the notion that the office could be run without 
 his assistance^ why, the attempt might be made, and he, at 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 127 
 
 any rate, would have no responsibility for failure. The 
 plan moreover enabled him to concentrate on the City task ; 
 there, it was necessary to keep alert, and to have your 
 wits, about you. 
 
 So here is the young woman enjoying the freedom which 
 goes with exclusive management, rising each morning 
 with plans for the day, and sorting out the dreams which 
 precede wakefulness. All sorts of ideas and every variety 
 of business project enter these dreams, and the one draw- 
 back they possess is that they often fail to pass judicious 
 examination conducted in the hours of day. But some 
 come true. There is, for instance, the belated house- 
 warming given to the Rydon Crescent folk. To an invita- 
 tion Robert sends a long and carefully-reasoned answer, 
 the effect of which might have been contained on a postcard, 
 but is written out on sheets of foolscap, numbered, and held 
 together by a paper fastener, and evidently regarded by him 
 as a document to be preserved for all time. Put briefly, 
 Robert’s wish is to intimate that the supervision of his 
 young lady’s family now calls for all his spare hours, and 
 he can spare none for mere social festivities. The party is, 
 nevertheless, a triumph. Gladys, encouraged by fair words, 
 shows qualities hitherto dormant, and prepares a meal 
 and serves a meal which, so Mr. Lennard declares, sends 
 his thoughts back to a certain adventure, oft related, when 
 he and his wife disbursed twenty-five pounds on sheer 
 entertainment. 
 
 “ Tell us presently, dad,” suggested the others. Gladys, 
 the maid, complimented on the thick soup, fried plaice, 
 chops and pastry, lays down a general principle, and in 
 confessing that she did not expect to come out of it so well 
 and that much of it may be considered in the nature of a 
 fluke, argues that none of us know what we can do until we 
 try. For the rest, the elder sister is in good humour, with a 
 multitude of incidents to give concerning Mr. L. and his 
 satisfaction with the treatment accorded to him by Churton 
 Street, and his expectations of further business of a lucra- 
 tive nature. Aside, Hester mentions to Grace that, in her 
 view, marriage has to be contemplated as a near event ; she 
 sighs regretfully in alluding to the less perplexing times 
 when engagements were made by her and broken with 
 
128 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 facility. One terrible moment is ahead, and Hester pales 
 at the thought ; it will arrive when the suggestion is made 
 to Mr. L. that she would like to continue, after marriage, the 
 dressmaking business hitherto carried on at Rydon Crescent. 
 
 “ I’ve got all my arguments ready,” says Hester deter- 
 minedly. 
 
 “ Perhaps you won’t have to use them.” 
 
 “ You are talking,” declares Hester with sudden reserve, 
 “ of something you are not old enough to understand.” > 
 
 “ I’m old enough to understand what he told me.” It 
 appears that Mr. L. has confided to Grace the circumstance 
 that his income alone is sufficient for one, inadequate for 
 two, and he has asked her whether she thinks Hester can be 
 persuaded not to give up, in wedded life, her admirable 
 methods of wage-earning. Hester accepts the information, 
 but expresses genuine regret at being baulked of an argu- 
 ment. 4 
 
 Kate, it appears, is progressing well in Friday Street, 
 unhampered by acutely romantic entanglements, and she 
 gives imitations of sentimental youths encountered at the 
 warehouse, or at dances in Finsbury Town Hall. These 
 occurrences divert her, but she has a word of indignation to 
 give concerning elderly men who attempt to impose 
 acquaintance, and speaks of one who, on no better excuse 
 than that of giving up his place in a Tube train, had the 
 impudence to press his card on her acceptance, and to beg 
 she would make a lunch appointment with him. 
 
 “ I took his card,” says Kate indignantly, “ and then I 
 simply stared at him.” Her sisters agree that she could not 
 have done better ; her father mentions that the wisest 
 thing to do, in circumstances' of this nature, is to do nothing. 
 The card being handed around, Grace mentions that she 
 seems to have heard the name of Theodore R. Watherston, 
 but declares she cannot, for the moment, remember exactly 
 where or when. The incident prevents her from referring 
 in detail to her husband’s engagement that evening to .dine, 
 with his partner, in the City. 
 
 There is Robert to discuss, and the changed situation at 
 Rydon Crescent since the transfer of his authority ; there is 
 Edmund to be talked about, and his excellent press notices 
 at Merthyr Tydvil. 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 129 
 
 “ I don’t mind saying,” declares Mr. Lennard, taking a 
 cigar that had been earnestly recommended by Grace’s 
 next-door neighbour as one he himself would not mind 
 smoking — “ I’ve never mentioned it before, but there is no 
 reason why I shouldn’t mention it now — that I’m proud of 
 every one of you. And now let me tell you about that 
 twenty-five pounds.” 
 
 “ We’ve heard it before,” said Hester. 
 
 “ I want to hear it again,” asserted Grace. 
 
 The story went in this way : 
 
 The Lennards had always been cautious in disbursement, 
 and Grace’s mother saw that no penny went out of the 
 house unless its departure could be justified ; any unusual 
 expenditure was planned long ahead, and frequently alluded 
 to in retrospect. But there was in the history of the 
 Lennards this one gay week of adventure, and the young 
 people often expressed sorrow that it happened before their 
 era. Even Hester, it seemed, had not been expected when 
 the great week occurred. 
 
 Twenty-five pounds came to Mrs. Lennard. The sum was 
 left by a former mistress of Highgate Village in acknow- 
 ledgment of faithful service, and the news — according to 
 Mrs. Lennard — struck both as much too good to be true, 
 and was therefore received with calm. But when the 
 young couple, acting on directions contained in the lawyer’s 
 note, paid a visit on a Monday morning to Stone Buildings, 
 Lincoln’s Inn, and found themselves in possession of five 
 five-pound notes, they lost no time in changing one at the 
 wine shop at the Holborn end of Chancery Lane, and it was 
 there, whilst sipping at a glass and eating a currant bun 
 and environed by the scents of luxury, that they decided 
 the money should be devoted to no commonplace object. 
 
 “ Your poor mother’s idea,” Mr. Lennard pointed out. 
 Having given the recital often, sometimes by request, and 
 sometimes in defiance of opposition, the wording of the 
 story went on fixed lines. “ Being her money, she had the 
 right to offer a suggestion. And I fell in with it, like a 
 bird ! ” 
 
 That afternoon, the two, with moderate luggage, drove 
 from Clerkenwell to an hotel at the corner of Trafalgar 
 Square with good view of the Nelson column, the statues, 
 
 9 
 
130 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 the fountains. Mrs. Lennard, showing an ingenuity which, 
 even at this distance, caused Mr. Lennard to wonder, had set 
 on the luggage a card, “ Passenger from Rugby to Euston,” 
 and as provincials they received a welcome that deepened 
 and increased when Mr. Lennard began, at this early stage, 
 to give handsome tips for services rendered. A resident in 
 the hotel intervened, and offered advice, but a good effect 
 had already been created, and from start to finish the 
 Lennards had sound friends in the staff of the establishment, 
 with the result that when, near the end of the week, young 
 Mrs. Lennard became tired of aristocratic society, and made 
 her way to the kitchen, her presence there was not resented. 
 Meanwhile, there was the National Gallery handy, with a 
 fresh wing designed by Mr. Barry, and there were the new 
 Law Courts at the eastern end of the Strand, and Leicester 
 Square, recently tidied up and set in order by Mr. Albert 
 Grant. These were but mild diversions ; the theatres 
 provided something more agreeable to the dashing pair. 
 Just around the corner, in King William Street, was the 
 Folly. In High Holborn (easy walking distance), the 
 Duke’s. In Oxford Street, the Princess’s. In the Strand, 
 they found the Adelphi, the Vaudeville, the Gaiety, the 
 Strand, and close by the Olympic, the Opera Comique, the 
 Globe and Drury Lane. It was, so Mr. Leonard hinted in 
 the recital, an embarrassment of joys, but waiters at the 
 hotel were used to giving counsel, and dress-circle seats at 
 five shillings were obtained each evening. For certain 
 afternoons, Mr. Maskelyne, pretending to behead Mr. Cooke, 
 at the Egyptian Hall, the Royal Aquarium (Always Some- 
 thing New), the Moore and Burgess Minstrels (Forty 
 Artistes of known Eminence. Ladies Retain their Bonnets 
 in all parts of the Hall). 
 
 “ On about the Friday,” said Mr. Lennard with relish, 
 continuing the account, “ we comes face to face with a most 
 ’ighly desperate crisis. The terms at the hotel is, you 
 understand, twelve shillings a day. That includes room, 
 breakfast and dinner. We has our midday meal out. 
 Now, as you children can reckon in your own heads, the 
 money isn’t going anything like fast enough. I has to get 
 back to my work on the Monday morning, seven o’clock 
 sharp. And here is your poor mother afid me, sitting in the 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 131 
 
 drawing-room at the hotel, and gazing out at the Square, 
 and wondering how on earth we are to get rid of all this, so 
 to speak, superfluous cash within the time at our disposal. 
 
 “ ‘ Mr. Lennard,’ says your poor mother (you’ll remember 
 she always gave me my proper title), ‘ we shall have to go a 
 buster . 5 55 
 
 “ ‘ As how ? 5 inquires I. 
 
 “ ‘ I suggest we ring, and when the waiter comes in, we tell 
 him just exactly how matters are, and ask him what we 
 ought to do . 5 
 
 “JThat waiter , 55 here Mr. Lennar d slapped the arm of his 
 chair, “ he proves a friend in need. e Your case , 5 says he, 
 
 4 is an exceptional one, and you want to apply exceptional 
 remedies. As for this evening, you and your good lady 
 don’t dine here ; you go Verrey’s in Regent Street, and with 
 your food you order the dearest wine they’ve got. At the 
 Alhambra, you take a private box. It being a moonlight 
 night, you hire an open landau to drive you round the town. 
 You have supper at the Cafe Royal : upstairs. For to- 
 morrow, I shall make up a time-table, and on Sunday you 
 go to the Star and Garter at Richmond for lunch, and , 5 says 
 the waiter kindly, ‘ I can put you on to a place further up 
 the river for the evening meal ; a place from which very few 
 come out with anything more in their pockets than a return 
 ticket , 5 says the waiter . 55 \ 
 
 Mr. Lennard, explaining that the hotel bill was paid on 
 the Sunday morning, and that for the cab journey from 
 Trafalgar Square to their rooms, the contented pair kept 
 half a crown in reserve, sat back and awaited the comments. 
 There had been times when these were mainly enthusiastic. 
 At the moment, Mr. Lennard’s family showed a diversity of 
 opinions. 
 
 “ A pity , 55 remarked Hester, “ the money wasn’t laid out 
 something for the house . 55 
 
 “ They enjoyed the lark ,’ 5 urged Kate. 
 
 “ It was a gorgeous break away from monotony , 55 declared 
 Grace. 
 
 “ The best part of the whole business is,” mentioned Mr. 
 Lennard serenely, “ that it’s all long past and over, and 
 consequently nothing that nobody says can alter or affect 
 it in any way"whatsoever ! 55 
 
132 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 Comes, also, to Cliurton 'Street, with many excuses for 
 apparent neglect, and the reminder that she never was, and 
 would probably never be, handy with the pen, cook. Still 
 at the Crown and Anchor, and still on good terms with 
 Grace’s aunt, but not able to evict a certain treasured 
 project from her thoughts ; this has been amended and is 
 now spoken of, with a certain grandeur, as Our Restaurant. 
 Cook has been adding to knowledge of the subject by making 
 inquiries, by peering in at windows of premises of the kind, 
 and now and then obtaining closer inspection by entering 
 and asking whether any one called Smith happens to reside 
 in the neighbourhood. 
 
 “ Once ybu get into conversation,” argues cook, “ you 
 can always go from one topic to another. At least, I can.” 
 Cook has gathered a large bouquet of facts, from which 
 she makes selection ; it is when the blooms of finance have 
 to be dealt with that an appeal for qualified help is made. 
 Figures, she declares, get all jumbled up. Sums in addition 
 rarely manage to achieve twice the same total ; at multipli- 
 cation she has to throw up her hands in despair. Cook is 
 grateful to her young friend for taking pencil and paper and 
 setting out the amounts legibly. Cook had a share of 
 learning in her youth, as learning then went, but declares 
 she might have remained at school until now without 
 gaining more, and is inclined to hint that learning is some- 
 thing which just happens, something over which neither 
 teacher nor student can exercise control. This theory 
 expounded, and made thoroughly fogged and clouded, she 
 goes back to the old proposition. An establishment to be 
 opened not far off ; she to take charge of the kitchen ; 
 Grace to look after the management. 
 
 “ You’d want capital,” argues Grace. “ Besides, I’ve 
 got my hands full. Furthermore my husband wouldn’t 
 like the idea. And it might not pay.” 
 
 “ Any other objection, dearie ? ” 
 
 “ None that I can think of just now. Excepting that you 
 can easily get some one else.” 
 
 “ We’ll take them in order,” decides cook, “ and start 
 with the last one. You know me nearly as well as you know 
 yourself, and you are well aware I don’t get along with 
 everybody. But I shall be all right with you. When we 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 133 
 
 were at Jarford’s, we never had a mis- word, and, remember- 
 ing the old lady there, and her son, and the ways of both, 
 that’s something to our credit. You can’t realize what a one 
 I was to quarrel with fellow-servants before I met you.” 
 
 “ I suppose I’ve always had an angelic influence.” 
 
 “ Wouldn’t go so far as that, dearie,” says the other 
 carefully, “ because angels, I take it, are to a certain extent 
 higher than mortal beings. And you’ve got your faults, no 
 doubt, only I haven’t discovered ’em. So there’s no 
 question, you understand me, of any one else. Either I run 
 the business with you, or I don’t run it at all. Then as 
 regards it paying. Why, restaurants always pay. Look 
 at the foreigners who come over here and begin wRh selling 
 roast chestnuts, and finish by owning an hotel in Piccadilly ! ” 
 “ Never heard of such a case.” 
 
 “ No more have I,” argues cook forcibly, “ but that’s no 
 proof that instances of the kind don’t exist. Great thing is 
 simply to fix your prices. You buy for so much, and you 
 sell for so much, and providing you allow a sufficient margin, 
 you’re bound to come out on the right side. We pass on to 
 your good gentleman. You think he wouldn’t like the 
 idea ? ” 
 
 “ Sure of it.” 
 
 “ In the first place, dearie, you perhaps, haven’t yet men- 
 tioned it, and in the second place, there’s no need to mention 
 it until all’s settled. When it’s settled, it Won’t matter what 
 his views are. See what I’m driving at ? Then, as to you 
 being fully occupied. Why,” reproachfully, “ how can you 
 say that ? It’s the kind of remark lazy people make. 
 Midday and at tea time is when I shall want your help the 
 most, and that only means leaving word here that you’ve 
 gone out on business, and you’ll be back later. People will 
 respect you all the more if they have to kick up their heels 
 for a bit. We now come,” drawing a deep breath, “ to the 
 matter of capital. Dearie, I’m not expecting you to put 
 sixpence into the concern. I’ve got my savings, and I 
 shall invest the sum total.” 
 
 “ Safer in the Post Office.” 
 
 “ Safer,” answers cook, “ but not near so interesting. 
 And ascertaining that I hadn’t got enough but only about 
 half what’s required, I talked it over with your aunt. Mrs. 
 
134 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 Reeves caught on at once. She doesn’t want to lose me — 
 nobody/’ adds cook modestly, “ ever did — but she’s willing 
 for me to go, providin’ you can find some one to take my 
 place. And moreover, your aunt will put in the same 
 amount that I do, and take a sb&re of the profits.” 
 
 “ If any.” 
 
 “ Dearie,” says cook pleadingly, “ I’ve set my mind on it. 
 I’ve come across omens lately, and they’re all favourable, 
 and I reckon I should be committing nothing less than a 
 crime if I didn’t go on with it. Give me a helping hand, 
 and I guarantee you’ll never regret it.” 
 
 “ Does aunt think that I ” 
 
 “ She’s got a great opinion of you, dearie. She don’t 
 hold a over-high estimation of your husband, but she’s got 
 confidence in you.” 
 
 “ You must give me time to think,” urges Grace, waver- 
 ing. 
 
 “ By all means,” cries cook generously. “ No one can 
 blame you for that. I’ve no wish to influence you, one way 
 or the other. Think as hard as ever you like, but don’t 
 take more’n two minutes, and mind you this. You’ve got 
 to say ‘ Yes.’ ” 
 
 A man appeared at the doorway. In a husky voice and a 
 confidential manner, he asked whether Mr. Bannerton 
 chanced to be disengaged. 
 
 “ Mr. Chasemore,” said Grace, “ we don’t want you 
 here.” 
 
 “ ’Erbert,” cried cook ecstatically, “ my ’Erbert ! ” 
 
 Mr. Chasemore turned and ran swiftly. Cook, on hearing 
 _the particulars, argued that if she came to Churton Street, 
 the betting man would certainly and inevitably avoid the 
 neighbourhood. 
 
 The Victoria Restaurant in Churton Street opened almost 
 immediately after the departure of the last workman 
 attached to the firm of Collet & Co. Before going, he 
 delivered a brief address, on behalf of himself and his 
 colleagues, and managed to hint that whilst his industrial 
 career had not been altogether free from worry, he was 
 unable to recall a job — with the exception, perhaps, of 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 135 
 
 Bannerton’s office, near by — wherein more adverse criticism 
 and less praise had been received. 
 
 “ Fd far sooner be dealing with a man, 55 he said. 
 
 “ So would I,” said cook. 
 
 Gladys was borrowed from Number Seventeen, and the 
 three women, aproned, and handkerchief tied over head, set 
 on the task of clearing up. Churton Street gazed through 
 the windows ; groups pressed forward eagerly when Grace, 
 stepping on a chair, affixed a notice to the effect that This 
 Establishment would be Opened at. Once as a High Class 
 Eating House. Quality warranted. Civility assured. 
 Cheapness promised. The notice was not all cook had hoped 
 for, or Grace desired, but it happened to be the only appro- 
 priate one the stationer could furnish ; he had a good 
 supply of Furnished Rooms for Respectable Couples, and of 
 Ironing Done Here, *-and of Funeral Wreaths made Up, 
 but Gladys told him he could keep these for a game of 
 noughts and crosses. Churton Street, having read the 
 notice and committed the wording to memory, went off to 
 enjoy the luxury of being the first to distribute news. 
 Inside, scrubbing went on, and in the kitchen, the large gas 
 stove and the fireplace with its commodious grate were 
 tested ; later there was a rehearsal of the using of the 
 speaking-tube. Gladys, as customer, sat at one of the 
 tables affecting to look through the menu card in a refined 
 ladylike manner, with Grace waiting patiently. 
 
 “ Let me have, my good girl,” directed Gladys, “ a portion 
 of haricot mutton, and a portion of cabinet puddin’, and a 
 portion of Cheshire.” 
 
 “ Anything to drink, miss ? 55 
 
 “ Thank you, ” said Gladys haughtily, “ but I never take 
 nothing with my meals.” 
 
 “ Doctor’s orders ? ” 
 
 “ Early upbringing.” 
 
 “ Not bad weather,” remarked Grace, adjusting the cruet- 
 stand, “ for the time of the year.” 
 
 “ By rights,” said Gladys, with an air, “ I ought to be 
 with my people in the South of France. Basking in the 
 Mediterranean. How many birthdays has this bread had ? ” 
 Grace, at the mouthpiece of the speaking tube, blew hard, 
 and cook, at the other end, said, “ Out with it ! ” The 
 
136 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 commands repeated, cook answered that haricot mutton 
 was off, but Irish stew was on, and Gladys, at the table, 
 made an ejaculation of regret, but .consented to the pro- 
 posed substitution. Grace, by a quick change, took a place 
 on a high stool at a desk and became cashier, and in going 
 through the pantomime of accepting money, thanked Gladys 
 for her kind patronage, and expressed a hope that she would 
 mention the establishment to all her friends. Gladys said 
 she would do her best, but most of her chums were, just now, 
 clean gone on the Ritz. 
 
 There was shopping to be done in main streets where 
 cook, knowing what she required, declined to take anything 
 short of this, and argued in favour of a liberal discount for 
 cash, return of goods if found unworthy, and, above all, 
 prompt delivery. Grace attempted to escape from the 
 trying scenes, but cook would not entertain any excuse, 
 and it was a harassed and exhausted young woman who 
 went back to the Churton Street office in order to release 
 Alfred from attendance. There it chanced one evening that 
 she found the lad and Gladys — each hitherto looked upon 
 as demure, and strictly behaved — exchanging kisses over 
 the desk. Grace entered the office unperceived by them. 
 
 “ That’s only eleven,” contended the infatuated youth. 
 “ Let’s make it a dozen, just for the sake of round numbers.” 
 
 “ When you have quite finished ! ” remarked Grace 
 coldly. The girl ran upstairs, and Alfred, putting his 
 glasses straight, mentioned that Mr. Bannerton had been in, 
 had gone out again, and seemed a trifle ratty over something 
 or other. “ Aren’t you ashamed of yourself ? ” she de- 
 manded, with warmth. 
 
 “ It behoves,” replied the spectacled youth stolidly, 
 “ every man to take full advantage of his opportunities. 
 If he fails to do so, he endures subsequently the pangs of 
 remorse.” 
 
 When Tom Bannerton arrived, he was unable to eat 
 because he had been to Oxford Street, and had taken a 
 meal there. Affairs had not gone easily in the day at 
 Finsbury Pavement, and the remedy of a good feed was, he 
 argued, well worth the money expended. Grace, in clearing 
 the table, spoke of the incident in the office, and her husband, 
 instead of sharing annoyance, exhibited amusement. “ Get 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 137 
 
 rid of one of them,” he counselled. 44 Or both.” Grace 
 retorted that the girl was a good girl, and that, as to Alfred, 
 the office could not be run without his aid. “Then 
 let it stop running,” he said lightly, and to this Grace 
 took vehement objection. The office paid its way. Grace 
 alluded to the Victoria Restaurant. 
 
 44 I saw it,” he remarked, “ in coming along. The place 
 doesn’t stand an earthly chance of success, and if you take 
 my advice, you’ll have nothing to do with it.” 
 
 44 I felt some hesitation before, but not now.” 
 
 44 You don’t seem to have much confidence, little girl, in 
 your husband’s views.” 
 
 44 Much ? ” she echoed sharply. 44 Haven’t any.” 
 
 There was a pause. 
 
 44 To tell you the truth, I’ve had a thick day of it. Old 
 Beau Brummel — well, he imagines I’m a fool.” 
 
 44 And aren’t you ? ” 
 
 44 'Dinner,” he went on placidly , 44 has helped me to take a 
 more composed outlook. Dinner has persuaded me there is 
 nothing to be gained by having a row.” 
 
 44 But supposing I want a row,” she contended. 
 
 A piano organ started playing down in the roadway. 
 Tom Bannerton advanced towards her, with an exaggeration 
 of the deportment used at Saturday evening dances at 
 Holborn Town Hall, and requested the honour of her com- 
 pany. Grace did not answer, and he took her forcibly, and 
 they waltzed around the room until the piano organ, with an 
 unexpected attack of religious fervour, gave 44 Abide with 
 me.” She sat on the hearthrug, and Tom Bannerton, 
 seated in a chair, bent over her and kissed her repeatedly. 
 
 44 That’s only eleven,” she quoted breathlessly. 44 Let’s 
 make it a dozen, just for the sake of round numbers ! ” 
 

 CHAPTEB XI 
 
 Victoria proved a success in the first week of 
 ning, and cook opened her eyes to the fullest 
 
 extent when, on the Saturday evening, Grace made 
 up two columns of figures and called attention to the balance 
 representing profit. Each day at half-past eleven Grace 
 went from the office, having issued a set of warnings to 
 Gladys, and a set of instructions to Alfred, and during the 
 brief journey along Churton Street there were nods from 
 shopkeepers to be acknowledged, and an exchange of 
 opinions concerning news shown on placards ; small 
 children expected a word of recognition, and matrons 
 had to be complimented on the health of their families. 
 Occasionally, a member of the Political Club was encoun- 
 tered and for the sake of encouraging Tom Bannerton’s 
 popularity, she stopped and chatted agreeably, always 
 contriving to hint at the importance of her husband's 
 occupation in the City, and to declare that any neglect 
 of local duties was unavoidable just now, but would be 
 set right later on, At the restaurant, after a greeting 
 from cook, her tasks began at once. A bill of fare to be 
 drawn up, and inserted in the neat frame at the doorway. 
 Inspection of tables carried out, and a checking of the 
 furnishing of each. A talk with cook’s niece, who had 
 come from a similar establishment near to King’s Cross, 
 and required little teaching, excepting on the detail of 
 neatness of dress and finger nails. All this made a busy 
 half-hour, and as the chimes of the church clock gave 
 their longest performance and announced twelve o’clock, 
 customers began to arrive. In the course of the week, 
 Grace had ascertained the identity of some, and these were 
 obviously pleased to be greeted by name ; it gave them 
 
 138 
 
BANNEKTON’S AGENCY 
 
 139 
 
 the impression that the world was no wider than their 
 repute. During the early stages of the two crowded hours, 
 Grace assisted the niece in waiting at the tables ; when 
 the moment came for the first set to leave, she took up 
 position at the desk in the corner near to the window. 
 Most of the customers were themselves able to perform 
 exercises in mental arithmetic, but others, less expert, 
 occasionally hinted at incredulity at Grace’s swiftness in 
 reckoning ; when doubt came in, pencil and paper were 
 used, and the incident terminated with earnest apologies 
 from the patron. 
 
 “ You’re right, ma’am, and I’m wrong, and that’s the 
 long and short of the whole matter ! ” 
 
 In the second week of the existence of the Victoria, a slight 
 check occurred. The weather of the first days happened 
 to be imperfect and endured censure ; you could really 
 not expect folk to make their way from shops and offices 
 in a storm of wind and rain. Wednesday was a fine day, 
 and Grace prophesied to cook that the number of callers 
 would be excellent. 
 
 “ We’ve got, I s’pose, to take the rough with the smooth,” 
 agreed cook, “ but I warn you, dearie, I’m not first class 
 where anxiety is concerned. My spirits soon go up, and 
 they soon go down. If I have a run of bad luck, I begin 
 to think everything’s coming to an end.” 
 
 “ We get a very nice class of people,” argued Grace. 
 “ The quality’s all right. It’s the quantity that isn’t 
 coming up now to my expectations.” 
 
 “ Your own fault,” said her niece, frankly, “ for putting 
 your expectations so high.” 
 
 “ If you can’t say anything more sensible, miss, kindly 
 refrain from saying anything at all.” 
 
 “ Let’s hope for the best,” said Grace. 
 
 “ That’s a job I must leave to you, dearie. Just now, 
 I don’t feel myself any good at it.” 
 
 It proved in no way helpful at one o’clock — when the 
 Victoria should have been filled with people clamouring 
 to be fed, and, instead, the chairs were empty, with cook 
 out from the kitchen and gazing disconsolately into space, 
 the niece studying pictures of weddings in an illustrated 
 newspaper, and Grace at the cashier’s desk, writing in 
 
140 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 order to fill up time — that Aunt Eliza should arrive by 
 taxicab, and enter the restaurant after a brief chat with 
 the driver, whom she called Ginger. Aunt Eliza stared 
 around, and sat down, with an air of collapse, on one of 
 the many unoccupied chairs. 
 
 44 Haven’t you started business yet ? ” she demanded. 
 
 “ We’ve started,” answered cook’s niece,' 44 and it looks, 
 too, as though we’d finished.” 
 
 44 But where are your customers ? ” 
 
 Cook came forward, and thrust her young relative aside. 
 
 “ You’ve called, Mrs. Reeves, ma’am,” she said nervously, 
 44 at a time when everything seems to be at sixes and sevens. 
 The place is not at its best. Generally, at this period 
 of the day, we can’t serve ’em fast enough. But just now, 
 
 and merely temporarily, of course ” Cook marred the 
 
 optimism of her statements by bursting into tears. 44 I 
 seem — seem to bring ill-luck wherever I go.” 
 
 44 Grace,” commanded Aunt Eliza, 44 a word with you, 
 if you please.” 
 
 44 I’ll complete first what I’m doing.” She came from 
 the desk, after a pause, bearing sheets of paper. 
 
 44 You seem to be taking it all very calmly/ 4 said her 
 aunt, in injured tones. 44 Are you aware I put money 
 into this business ? ” 
 
 44 Quite ! ” 
 
 44 Do you know that the money has been slowly and gradu- 
 ally accumulated by sheer hard labour ? ” 
 
 44 I’ll take your word for it.” 
 
 44 And that I’m not likely to be best pleased by seeing 
 folk play geese and drakes with it ? ” Aunt Eliza shook 
 her gloves in the other’s face. 44 I’ve fully decided what 
 to do, and it hasn’t taken me long. A surprise for you, 
 I dare say.” 
 
 44 Not at all. You are going to take your money out 
 of the business.” 
 
 44 Who told you ? ” snapped Aunt Eliza. 
 
 44 My dear aunt,” said Grace, 44 1 can tell all that’s going 
 on in your mind as well as you can yourself. You are 
 arguing, in your thoughts, that there is no use in throwing 
 good money after bad. You feel you’d be wise in cutting 
 your losses.” 
 
BANNEKTON’S AGENCY 
 
 141 
 
 u And is there any reason why I shouldn’t ? ” 
 
 “ None, as far as I know. I think it would be a very 
 wise proceeding for you to take. I don’t see what else 
 you can do.” 
 
 “ Pardon me,” said the other with austerity. “ You’re 
 taking a one-sided view of the affair. You are mistaken 
 if you imagine that I can’t afford to have a little flutter, 
 if I’m so inclined.” 
 
 “ You know best about that,” conceded Grace. 
 
 “ I know best about everything,” retorted Aunt Eliza. 
 
 Two young men came to the doorway, and seemed to 
 hesitate there. Grace went to encourage them, and the 
 staff of the restaurant took a brighter attitude. “As a 
 matter of fact,” said one of the young men confidentially, 
 
 “ we were looking about for something of a more ” 
 
 His companion suggested the word expensive. Grace 
 assured them they would have no grievance on this score, 
 and they, with sudden determination, selected a table. 
 Grace herself assisted them by counsel, and having taken 
 their orders, she passed along to Aunt Eliza with a defer- 
 ential, “ And for you, madam ? ” Aunt Eliza, inspecting 
 the menu, made her choice. 
 
 Aunt Eliza took the attitude of one ready to display 
 enthusiasm, and she praised, in an audible voice, the soup, 
 the fish, the cut from the joint. On the plea that she 
 was old enough to be their mother, she opened conver- 
 sation with the young men across the gangway, and spoke 
 of the advantages of enjoying a meal — well cooked, and 
 well served — in leisurely surroundings ; at crowded res- 
 taurants where the dishes were supplied quickly and you 
 were hustled off ere you knew what you were up to, no 
 food could be properly relished. Aunt Eliza’s practice 
 at the bar made it easy for her to talk with vivacity, and 
 she ascertained that the two were in a neighbourhood 
 hitherto unknown to them, because the preliminaries of a 
 contract were not going smoothly ; they had made the 
 journey from Westminster in order to see local people 
 owning influence, and had encountered some difficulty in 
 approaching them. “ I know,” said Aunt Eliza sympa- 
 thetically. “ In the old days, it would have been easy 
 to take them out and stand ’em a drink, but there’s 
 
142 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 such a lot of teetotallers springing up — . Have you thought 
 of a dinner ? ” They feared that an invitation to (say) 
 St. Ermin’s Hotel would be looked upon as an elaborate 
 attempt at bribery. “ But I mean,” explained Aunt 
 Eliza, “ a quiet, casual sort of a meal, close at hand, 
 that the parties could come to without having to put on 
 their best shirt.” The young men considered there might 
 be something in the idea, but it would require very careful 
 management. Coffee was brought, and they asked per- 
 mission to sit at Aunt Eliza’s table ; the three conversed 
 earnestly. In the end, Grace was summoned. Could a 
 dinner for twelve or fifteen people be arranged at the 
 Victoria Restaurant on an evening in the coming week ? 
 Certainly. Would it be a meal calculated to please the 
 guests, and to set them in good temper ? Without doubt. 
 Could Mrs, Bannerton take part in a small and harmless 
 conspiracy, and on the understanding that the bill was 
 to be settled by the two gentlemen now present, issue 
 to names and addresses furnished, invitations to celebrate 
 the formal opening of the Victoria Restaurant ? Nothing 
 easier. Grace, with her knowledge of local celebrities, 
 ventured to make one or two alterations in the names. 
 Pen and ink were called for, and a cheque on account 
 pressed on her acceptance. Date fixed. Bill of fare 
 drawn up. A red wine selected from the price list of a 
 neighbouring stores. “ Splendid, splendid,” declared the 
 young men gratefully, “ and thank you ever so much, 
 and, until next Tuesday, good-bye.” 
 
 Now, don’t you three be too much cast down,” advised 
 Aunt Eliza to the staff, “ just because everything doesn’t 
 go with a bang, all at once. Be cheerful. I’m backing 
 
 you, and that, in itself, ought to be a tremendous What’s 
 
 that, duck ? ” 
 
 Grace showed a notice with generous capitals she had 
 drawn up to be sent to the printers, and Aunt Eliza 
 read it aloud: To prevent Disappointment, will Ladies 
 and Gentlemen kindly note that in Future no Tables can 
 be booked in Advance. First Come, first Served. “ I 
 don’t know "exactly > what it jneans,” said Aunt Eliza, 
 “ but it sounds all right.” 
 
 Grace endeavoured that eveningTto mention the dinner 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 143 
 
 to her husband, with the idea of including him amongst 
 the guests. He stopped her at the first words, and de- 
 clared he and old Beau Brummel were engaged in trans- 
 actions which occupied the major part of their time, and 
 were, moreover, far too important to endure interference. 
 
 The great evening at the Victoria began quietly with 
 most of the notable gentlemen of the borough showing a 
 defensive attitude. As Alfred (imported from the office) 
 took hats and coats and issued tickets, they gazed around 
 and exchanged curt salutations. 
 
 “ We seem to be a mixed lot ! ” 
 
 “ When did they let you loose ? ” 
 
 “ So you’re on the free-meal list, too, are you ? ” 
 
 The circumstance that snow was falling in no way 
 improved their attitude. What, they demanded, was the 
 use of snow in London ? 
 
 Dr. Mallin arrived late, and brought with him an im- 
 perfect temper because, in an evening newspaper, a public 
 statement concerning health statistics had appeared, and 
 his name had been spelt with one “ 1 ” only. He frowned as 
 Grace stepped forward to mention that dinner was on the 
 point of being served ; the frown changed to one of im- 
 portance when she begged that he would oblige her by 
 taking the chair. 
 
 “ Well now,” he said pompously, “ this, you know, is 
 asking rather a lot of me. What I mean to say is, on the 
 spur of the moment and without the usual notice before- 
 hand.” 
 
 “ Would you rather some one else presided ? ” 
 
 “ Oh, no, no ! I’ll do it. I’ll do it, rather than it shouldn’t 
 be done well. Lead the way, madam, and we’ll get to work.” 
 Names on cards were found by their respective owners ; 
 the two from Westminster took their places quietly. 
 “ Benedictus, benedice,” said the chairman, and immedi- 
 ately started an altercation with his immediate neighbour 
 on the subject of bread. Was it better now, or worse, 
 than in the old days ? Having ascertained the neigh- 
 bour’s impressions, the chairman said at once that the 
 neighbour was wrong : absolutely, utterly and completely 
 wrong. Nothing but sheer ignorance excused the holding 
 
 J 
 

 144 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 of such views. “ Yes, but,” pleaded the neighbour, “ the 
 last time we met you argued the opposite.” The chairman 
 derided the value of consistency and asserted that he, 
 alone perhaps of all the well-known men in the borough, 
 collected new facts, and had the wisdom to allow himself 
 to be influenced by them. Soup was served, and up and 
 down the long table a general discussion began ; folk, 
 not present, were alluded to as men who had turned their 
 coats, had crossed the floor, had altered their labels. At 
 the fish course, all were talking heatedly excepting the 
 Westminster youths who found themselves in demand 
 because they alone exhibited an ability to listen, and to 
 give an understanding nod. 
 
 “ How’s it going, dearie ? ” inquired cook anxiously, 
 when Grace paid a swift call in the kitchen. “ Any of 
 ’em said anything yet about the food ? ” 
 
 “ Not a word.” 
 
 “ That’s a blessing. If men don’t complain, it means 
 they’re fairly well satisfied. By the by, speak to Alfred, 
 will you ? He’s struck work.” 
 
 Alfred, adjusting spectacles, begged Grace to realize 
 that in declining to pull corks he was acting in no spirit 
 of rebellion, but in order that he might not, as a lifelong 
 Band of Hoper, sacrifice principles. Grace carried the bottles 
 in, and found the corkscrew, and was pulling hard when 
 Alderman Shadburn cried gallantly, “ This ain’t a lady’s 
 job,” and starting up from his chair, imposed the task 
 upon himself. At the first pop, a soothing effect could be 
 observed. Guests, watching the pouring out and setting 
 their own glasses at a convenient position, said in regard 
 to parties whose names had been mentioned that they 
 themselves did not presume to dictate; if a chap liked 
 to be a Radical one day and a Tory the next, why it was 
 his affair and no one had the right to interfere with this 
 or any other hobby he cared to take up. Private toasts 
 were exchanged. 
 
 “ Mr. Councillor, my best respects.” 
 
 “ Huxtable, I look towards you.” 
 
 “ Freddy, old man, here’s good wishes. Not forgetting 
 her Royal Highness at home, and all the kids, and last, 
 but not least, the business,” 
 
BANNBETON’S AGENCY 145 
 
 Information came that outside snow was now thick 
 upon the pavement, and guests congratulated theuiselves 
 at the comfortable shelter they were enjoying. 
 
 An added courtesy was shown to age. A white-haired 
 guest had been describing in a quavering voice to one 
 of the attentive Westminster youths the district as it was 
 in his youth. “ Stretches of open country, my dear sir. 
 Not safe to be out alone at night, bless you. Tea gardens. 
 Houses of wealthy City merchants. Stage coaches.” 
 Serving of the roast saddle of mutton checked the recital, 
 but the Westminster youth asked for more particulars, 
 and another white-headed guest entered into competition, 
 and he could remember meeting past and gone residents 
 of note ; the guests listened as account was given of what 
 I said to him, and he said to me, and I said back to him. 
 Alfred, helping briskly in various ways now that his 
 principles were safe, remarked to cook’s niece that the 
 attitude shown was a form of patriotism. An affection 
 for one’s own district of London constituted in itself, 
 as it were 
 
 “ Hang on to these plates,” ordered cook’s niece, cc and 
 leave off trying to talk like a curate.” 
 
 It seemed the Westminster two were well-read in the 
 history of town, but they did not presume to have first- 
 hand knowledge ; one, because of his admirable manner, 
 was favoured, when the sweets had been placed on the 
 table, with a summons from the chairman who desired 
 conversation with him. “ You must come along to my 
 place afterwards,” said the chairman firmly, “and have a 
 smoke and a yarn. I rarely get the chance about here 
 of meeting my equals in intelligence.” The other West- 
 minster youth was doing good spade-work at the far end 
 of the table. Grace, now and again, met a glance from 
 them ; they gave a message of congratulation by a slight 
 deflecting of the right eyelid. 
 
 “ Gentlemen ! ” barked the chairman. “ One toast to 
 be honoured. (Major Worrall, blow that fiiatch out, 
 please.) The King, God bless him ! ” Glasses were lifted, 
 and there was an echo of the words up and down the table. 
 Cook, out of the kitchen now that her exacting tasks 
 were over, had to be led back to it weeping. “ Gentlemen,” 
 10 
 
146 BANNEKTON’S AGENCY 
 
 said the chairman, with an air of defiance, “ you may 
 smoke. 55 
 
 There came an interval, and one or two looks were 
 directed at the chair. He, a man not inclined to accept 
 hints, took his own time, and it was here that Alderman 
 Shadburn scored. The Alderman, noting that the chair 
 was setting his coffee cup at a precise spot, moving the 
 stand of flowers, and in other ways betraying signs of » 
 one about to deliver an address, jumped up with an alert- 
 ness that explained his high predominance in the activities 
 of the borough, and said that really, Mr. Chairman, we 
 could not allow the occasion to pass by without conveying 
 our sincere thanks and our heartiest compliments and 
 our most genuine wishes to the two ladies who, with an 
 undoubted charm, and, if one might venture to say so, 
 a highly remarkable capability, had that evening enter- 
 tained them. Seldom in the whole course of a somewhat 
 long and varied experience And so on. And further- 
 
 more the name of the restaurant called to mind that good 
 and eminently gracious Queen who for no less than three- 
 and-sixty years exercised a beneficent sway — * — . And so 
 
 forth. In looking at the past, one gained lessons for the 
 present, hints for the future. Alderman Shadburn, re- 
 lying on age and experience, ventured to go so far as to 
 
 say . And so, without undue haste, or niggardliness 
 
 in words, towards the peroration. 
 
 The chairman sat back and glared at the walls, as 
 one who could bear to contemplate no other sight. 
 To him, as the Alderman was getting well into the stride 
 of his summing up — with references to the J never-to-be- 
 forgotten year when he himself occupied the position 
 of Mayor — came Grace. 
 
 “ Do you mind saying something on our behalf, Dr. 
 Mallin ? It would be so kind of you. 55 
 
 “ Two words, my dear Mrs. Bannerton, 55 agreed the 
 chairman. “ No more, no less. 55 
 
 The health of Our Hostesses was received with acclam- 
 ation. The local journal of that week said so, and the 
 local journal was correct. The account mentioned that 
 the toast was acknowledgechby the chairman in a speech 
 of considerable earnestness and lucidity, and here the 
 
BANNEBTON’S AGENCY ‘ 
 
 147 
 
 journal was partially exact. The journal, escaping from 
 the trammels of the English language, took leave to pro- 
 phesy that the Victoria Bestaurant was destined to become 
 the rendezvous of the elite, and the chez moi of the bon 
 viveur. 
 
 Tom Bannerton complained that Grace had not taken 
 the pains to make the situation clear. If she had done 
 so, and if he had known that many well-known folk were 
 invited, he would certainly have made an effort to be 
 present. 
 
 “ Circumstances being what circumstances are,” he 
 added handsomely, “ it doesn’t greatly matter. But it 
 might have been a good opportunity for encountering 
 local people.” 
 
 “ At any rate, I encountered them.” 
 
 “ That,” he said, “ is a different affair altogether ! ” 
 
CHAPTEE XII 
 
 T HEEE were other remonstrances concerning the 
 dinner, and these came in after publication, already 
 referred to, of the account in the local newspaper. 
 Lady Ferrars, at the next meeting of the League, told the 
 honorary secretary that women-folk ought to have had a 
 share. At a time when the sex was making urgent efforts 
 to gain the power of voting at political elections it seemed 
 unwise to restrict any gathering to men-folk ; apart 
 from this, Lady Ferrars thought the occasion might have 
 been exceptionally useful to her. Grace said it was not 
 a matter over which she had entire control, and further 
 that until women, on entering a restaurant, gave orders 
 more adventurous than a poached egg on toast, they could 
 scarcely expect the trade to offer them special consider- 
 ation. From her brother Robert, Grace received a lengthy 
 communication written on the most spacious letter paper 
 at his disposal. Eobert, it seemed, had been asked by 
 his young lady and by others why he had not been in- 
 cluded in the party ; he pointed out to Grace that he 
 could have spoken to almost any toast. Permanent 
 Officials of the Borough. Our Visitors. Houses of Par- 
 liament. Absent Friends. Edmund, from Torquay, sent 
 a note which compensated. He had read the notice of 
 the dinner, forwarded by Grace, with tremendous satis- 
 faction ; it Was an exchange for those posted weekly to 
 her, which, in mentioning his performance, spoke of it 
 as an adequate rendering, or a capable effort, or a worthy 
 contribution. Edmund’s important news was that he 
 had secured an engagement in town. Aunt Eliza’s friend, 
 the West End actor-manager, chanced to be recuperating 
 shattered health by taking twenty-four hours in Devon- 
 148 
 
149 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 shire, and naturally enough went, on the evening of the 
 day, to the theatre. After the play, he commanded the 
 presence of Edmund, took him back to the hotel, where 
 they talked until four o’clock : the hour when the West End 
 man invariably retired for sleep. The controlling author- 
 ities of the travelling company had released Edmund, 
 and Grace was to be at a distinguished theatre in Shaftes- 
 bury Avenue for the first night of the new play. The 
 rest of the family did not matter. 
 
 “ You,” said Edmund’s note, “ are the only one who 
 troubles to yrrite to me. See me after the show, and 
 spare me an hour of your time, and give your praise, or 
 your blame. I know you will be candid, and I hope you 
 will not be too severe.” 
 
 As to the Victoria, the receipts went up immediately, 
 and cook was not sure whether the credit had to be given 
 to the dinner, or to the notice exhibited in the window, 
 or to Providence. On the one hand, the Westminster 
 young men, having achieved their object, came frequently 
 to the district, and made a point of lunching at the Victoria, 
 and of expressing, in audible tones, content at the dish 
 set on the table. 
 
 “ Beautiful, beautiful ! ” 
 
 “ Finest cooking in London ! ” 
 
 “ Simply superb ! ” 
 
 Other customers, who from force of habit, took meals 
 with an ungracious look on their features, relaxed on hearing 
 these ejaculations. They said, in paying at the cashier’s 
 desk, that the food was not so dusty, considering. 
 
 On the other hand, there were the casual folk who, 
 intending to be passers-by, were arrested by the printed 
 announcement, and stopped to read it, and took an air 
 of perplexity, and eventually decided that a craving by 
 the majority was one worthy of support, and, with a manner 
 of resolution, entered and issued orders as folk determined 
 to stand up for their own rights. When the notice had 
 served its purpose, it was replaced by To-day’s Speciality ; 
 an admirable portrait of Queen Mary was set at a corner 
 of the window, and the rumour went about that the 
 Victoria had, in some way or other, been patronized by 
 royalty. The aspect of freshness was persistently culti- 
 
150 
 
 BANNEKTON’S AGENCY 
 
 vated. If traffic of the street decorated the glass frontage 
 with blobs of mud, these were at once removed. There 
 were two understudies to the mat at the entrance?, ready 
 to appear whenever their services were necessary. Shades 
 to the electric light changed colour once a week. Flowers 
 on the tables vanished ere they reached middle age. Cruet 
 stands were sober, and orderly. 
 
 On the top of the improvement at the Victoria, came a 
 joyous return from the City one evening of Tom Bannerton. 
 He sang cheerfully on entering the office, and threw his 
 silk hat towards the ceiling, the while Gladys looked 
 on murmuring, “ He’s boozed, he’s boozed, he’s boozed ! ” 
 a statement that was incorrect, but, in the circumstances, 
 pardonable. The song over, and Gladys ordered to return 
 to domestic work, Tom announced, with exultation, that 
 he had at last pulled it off at Finsbury Pavement. He 
 was willing now to confess that, hitherto, his expectations 
 there had not been altogether fulfilled. Beau Brummel 
 was an unscrupulous old villain, but even with these gifts, 
 no scheme of any importance had proved remunerative ; 
 once or twice Watherston organized plans of a daring nature, 
 and Tom felt bound to state that he, for his part, would 
 have nothing to do with them. If Watherston liked to 
 rush down hill, he was not to reckon on Tom Bannerton 
 for company. When Tom Bannerton caught sight of 
 •disaster ahead, no power on earth could drag him that 
 way. Now, however, he had, off his own bat, made a 
 really fine score. 
 
 “ I’ll put it simply,” he explained, “ in order that you 
 can understand. A firm which we will call X holds a 
 concession. It affects business in a country which I refer 
 to as Y. This concession is worth having, but X is not 
 the firm to exploit it to the full. On the other side is Z, a 
 firm that could do great things with it. X and Z are not 
 on speaking terms, because they are near neighbours 
 at Orpington. Old Watherston ” 
 
 “ Call him Emperzand,” urged Grace. 
 
 “ He goes to X, and makes an offer. X won’t listen. 
 Watherston calls again, and is almost kicked out. I 
 call. I see the junior partner, and make no allusion to 
 my partner. I speak of junior partner’s golf. I allude 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 151 
 
 to his cricket. I refer to his football. Within half an 
 hour X’s partner is asking what he can do for me. I 
 play the frank and open character, who has nothing to 
 hide. Touch of impetuosity, you know. I guarantee a 
 certain sum. 5 ’ 
 
 44 Which you hadn’t got.” 
 
 44 Which I fancy I can get. Letter dictated by junior 
 partner and signed by him. Mutual compliments. Where- 
 upon I go to Z and give terms of letter. Z says, 4 Fire away.’ 
 Result to Tom Bannerton, a neat little sum that comes 
 in very useful at this, or indeed at any time. Madam, 
 I kiss your hand, and congratulate you on your husband.” 
 44 Do you share the profits with Watherston ? ” 
 
 44 Divil a bit. He knows nothing about it.” 
 
 44 What will X’s senior partner say when he hears that 
 Z has managed to get the concession ? ” 
 
 44 That,” he answered, lightly, 44 is no affair of mine. 
 The important thing is that we can now move away to 
 a more desirable part of London.” 
 
 44 You can do as you like,” said Grace, 44 1 remain here. 
 All my interests are here. All the few acquaintances I 
 have are here, or hereabouts. So, here I stay.” 
 
 44 Is that your last word ? ” 
 
 44 Oh, no. But all. of the rest will be to the same 
 purpose.” 
 
 44 Some wives would have been only too pleased with 
 the idea.” 
 
 44 One wife isn’t ! ” 
 
 44 Success, Grace Bannerton,” he remarked airily, 
 44 seems to be affecting your head.” 
 
 44 Take care, Tom Bannerton, that it doesn’t turn yours.” 
 44 1 think I must arrange for Hedley to talk to you,” 
 he remarked. 
 
 Opportunity for the talk by the Leadenhall Street man 
 came from no effort on the part of Grace’s husband. A 
 card of invitation sent by Lady Ferrars had been seen 
 by Gladys, and exhibited to Alfred, to cook, and to cook’s 
 niece, and the unanimous opinion of these authorities was 
 that it would be wise to send a note of thanks, and an 
 expression of regret that another engagement prevented 
 acceptance of the invitation. Cook was specially emphatic. 
 
152 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 She had but one event in her own career as a parallel — 
 a Cinderella dance of her youth in Caledonian Road (new 
 gloves, bunch of flowers in waist belt) on which occasion 
 her escort forgot all about her, and from no one did she 
 receive a single word from eight o’clock to midnight — 
 and the recollection of this induced cook to declare that 
 to be a fish out of water was to taste acute mental agony. 
 Gladys said her mistress had nothing fit to wear. Alfred 
 recalled his own treatment by a member of the Ferrars 
 circle, at Leadenhall Street. Cook’s niece said the card 
 had probably been sent in error. Grace listened to all 
 the advisers with the greater equanimity because she 
 had already made a decision. Two or three visits to 
 her dressmaker sister in Rydon Crescent, and a card- 
 board box arrived at the very moment when Grace had 
 come to the conclusion that it could not possibly reach 
 her in time. 
 
 In the West End square on the evening, she, fearing 
 the hour was too early, prepared to walk the four sides 
 with deliberation. On turning for the third lap, she and 
 Hedley narrowly escaped collision with each other. 
 
 “ Not, by any lucky chance, bound for the same des- 
 tination ? ” he enquired. I 
 
 44 Highly probable.” 
 
 44 And alone ? ” 
 
 44 Couldn’t be more so.” 
 
 44 This,” declared Hedley, 44 is simply magnificent. I 
 am not quite sure why I have been asked, unless it is 
 to run errands ; if I take you in charge I may escape 
 some of the menial tasks given to me by my employer.” 
 44 1 haven’t met Sir Walter.” 
 
 44 My case is not so fortunate,” said Hedley, 44 But 
 tell me first about your troubles.” 
 
 44 There aren’t any ! ” declared Grace. 
 
 They continued to walk, and Grace furbished an account 
 of progress at the Churton Street office, and at the Victoria. 
 Hedley nodded to show comprehension and to convey 
 approval ; when she spoke of Tom’s achievement in the 
 City, his head no longer gave any sign. 44 1 know some- 
 thing about this,” he mentioned with reserve. 44 Perhaps 
 we may have a chance of discussing it later.” Hedley 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 153 
 
 was glad to hear of the satisfactory conduct of Alfred 
 Plowman. He recommended that small increases of salary, 
 although not formally requested, should be given. “ Youth 
 likes encouragement ! ” he said. 
 
 They entered the house together, and by the device of 
 meeting again on the broad landing Grace avoided the 
 terrifying experience of going up the stairs by herself. 
 Lady Ferrars said, “ How de do, Mrs. Bannerton, go 
 straight through, and don’t stop the traffic,” and to 
 Hedley she said, “ Oh yes, of course. I’ve heard the 
 name. Keep handy in case Sir Walter wants you,” and 
 turned to other guests. She recalled Grace, who had 
 to pull against stream, and gave a whispered admonition. 
 “ Get something to eat and drink before the mob gets 
 at it.” Hedley and Grace, discarding this kindly advice, 
 found chairs and took ambush behind a large palm, where 
 one was able to point out men of distinction from the 
 City, and the other recognized folk living in her own borough. 
 Some of the rest were identified because of a vague resem- 
 lance to portaits in illustrated journals. Grace became 
 interested in costumes and, for a space, Hedley’s talk 
 failed to receive complete attention. 
 
 “ You see,” Hedley was saying, “ being acquainted 
 with the form of the parties, I’m not inclined to back Tom. 
 He hasn’t had the training of the other. He hasn’t been 
 inside the ropes so often. He’s a novice.” 
 
 “ So sorry ! ” remarked Grace, withdrawing her gaze 
 from a young woman of majestic appearance whose head 
 went near to the ceiling. “ I didn’t quite catch your argu- 
 ment.” 
 
 “ .This coup,” he explained, “ that Tom has brought 
 off. I don’t say there was queer practice about it, but 
 the older partner on the other side is seeing red. He 
 is being chaffed by his friends on the journey up from 
 Orpington and on the journey down from Cannon Street. 
 He declares he’ll have his revenge. He swears the last 
 laugh will be with him. And Tom hasn’t exactly improved 
 matters by bragging about the affair, and of his own 
 cleverness in managing it.” 
 
 “He’s like a boy who has made his first runs at 
 cricket.” 
 
154 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY. 
 
 “ Can’t you give him a word of advice ? ” 
 
 “ He hasn’t a great opinion of my wisdom.” 
 
 The more fool he,” asserted Hedley bluntly. “ How 
 are the brothers going along ? ” 
 
 Hedley was interested in the news of Edmund, and 
 announced his intention of, being present at the first 
 night. The grave-looking, clean-shaven man (once seen 
 on a great occasion at the Crown and Anchor), eluding 
 an onslaught from six ladies who were charging in his 
 direction, found sanctuary behind the palm, and over- 
 hearing the allusion, asked to be permitted to introduce 
 himself that he might join in discussing a subject which 
 happened to interest him. Grace could have hugged 
 him from sheer thankfulness, when he mentioned that 
 the lad was shaping well at rehearsal. The actor-manager 
 had a profound and deliberate manner of speech as one 
 whose statements were being taken down ; Hedley gave 
 offence by tendering a word when there occurred a pause 
 in some declaration, and Grace was thenceforth regarded 
 as the sole member of the audience. Her attention was 
 so complete, and so flattering that when presently the 
 great man, being tracked down by a scouting party who 
 announced, with a scream of triumph, “ We’ve found 
 him, at last 1 ” then he requested Grace to furnish an 
 address to which two complimentary stalls could be 
 forwarded. 
 
 “ You must come to the first night with me, Mr. Hedley,” 
 she said. 
 
 “ Nothing I should like better. But ask Tom first.” 
 “ Everything,” promised Grace, ££ shall be carried out 
 in a strictly legal manner.” 
 
 Dr. Mallin, in making his way through the crowded 
 room, caught sight of Grace, and, on the impulse of the 
 moment, exhibited surprise ; it did not take her long 
 to adopt the same method in encountering the gaze of 
 other local people, thus anticipating their own facial 
 expression. To help an appearance of confident ease, 
 she talked to her companion with great vivacity v but 
 in undertones. A year or so ago, said Grace, and she 
 was in the Jarford establishment, with no other prospect 
 but that of continued service in Islington ; this evening 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 155 
 
 she was a guest in a large house, and for the time, at any 
 rate* on a level with the highest. 
 
 “ Of course, 5 ’ she admitted, “ for a lot of it I have to 
 be graceful to Tom . 55 
 
 “ For some , 55 corrected Hedley. 
 
 “ I don’t want to pretend I’ve done it all on my own.” 
 “ You might do so, without putting a great strain on 
 the facts.” 
 
 When she had ended the comparison, Hedley, for the 
 first time, recounted incidents of his own early life. Hed- 
 ley, it appeared, had a father endowed with ambition 
 which o’erleapt itself ; before disaster arrived, he often 
 talked to his small son of large schemes that' included 
 the best available public school (expense no object), a 
 university career (with or without a scholarship), later, 
 the diplomatic service. Hedley could remember his 
 father poring earnestly over the map of Europe apd trying 
 to select the country and the capital town where his boy 
 would, at the correct age, represent the interests of his 
 nation. Hedley’s parent had insisted on one guarantee, 
 and one only ; namely, that his son would never, in any 
 circumstances, and no matter how Considerable the 
 pressure, accept a seat in the House of Lords. 
 
 “ And here I am,” said Hedley, “ a clerk in Leadenhall 
 Street, earning a salary that does not permit me to 
 get married.” 
 
 “But you don’t want to marry.” 
 
 “ I don’t,” he admitted, looking at her. “ But let me 
 enjoy all the grievances I can collect. As I say, a clerk 
 in the City. At every one’s beck and call.” 
 
 “ You wouldn’t know a beck if you met one.” 
 
 “ There,” said Hedley, listening, “ is a call, at any rate.” 
 Sir Walter forced his way through, shouting impatiently, 
 “ Hedley, I want Hedley ; where on earth has Hedley 
 gone to % why in the world doesn’t some one find Hedley ? 
 I want him at once ! ” Grace’s companion touched her 
 hand in farewell, and went reluctantly to accept his master’s 
 instructions. A lady member of the League Committee 
 darted forward to take the unoccupied chair, and Grace, 
 pursuing her earlier deportment, said astonishedly, “ You 
 here ? ” The lady, resentful at this, spoke magnificently 
 
156 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 of fan more important houses which, she hinted, threw 
 open their doors at her approach. She was getting near 
 to an account of intimate acquaintance with certain 
 members of the Royal family, when her husband came up. 
 
 “ Now then, you two,” he said pleasantly, in the accents 
 of North London, “ what about a moist ener % I’m dry. 
 Drier than dry. In fact, abs’lutely parched ! ” 
 
 Dr. Mallin was talking at the buffet to Grace when an 
 important guest came up, made a quick survey of the folk, 
 and chose Dr. Mallin as a recipient for conversation. He 
 had the air of one overloaded with anxieties of the world, 
 and prepared to discharge cargo at the nearest quay. 
 Grace moved away, but on a protest being made, returned, 
 and introductions were effected. “ One of our County 
 Council members,” explained Dr. Mallin, and the L.C.C. 
 representative, declaring himself gratified in making 
 Mrs. Bannerton’s acquaintance, invited her attention and 
 Mallin’s notice to the remarks he wished to offer. 
 
 “ What our borough requires,” he said, striking the palm : 
 of one hand with the fist of the other, “ is a man.” He 
 seemed rather disappointed that neither of his hearers 
 exhibited surprise. “ There is room there,” he went on, 
 
 “ for a man of average intelligence who will take on all 
 the odd jobs, and make himself generally useful. Mark 
 you, he need not possess a terrific amount of intelligence. 
 
 We don’t want a chap with a superior education. But 
 he must be ready to turn his hand to almost anything, 
 and be there when he is wanted. Now then, Mallin ; 
 
 I put it to you. Where is he ? ” 
 
 “ You ask me a question,” said Dr. Mallin, profoundly, 
 
 “ which sounds easy to answer, but is in point of fact, 
 if you will allow me to say so, the opposite.” To his 
 evident relief, he was called away by the host. The L.C.C. 
 member turned to Grace, with a look of despair. 
 
 “ I think,” she remarked, “ I know the person you 
 want. Unfortunately, he is just now occupied elsewhere.” 
 
 “ Bear it in mind,” urged the other. 
 
 “ I will.” 
 
 “ Of course, he must have a perfectly unblemished 
 reputation.” 
 
 “ That,” she said, “ makes it a bit more difficult.” 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 157 
 
 Grace reported to her husband at Churton Street that 
 the affair had been as good as a play. Tom, in excel- 
 lent spirits declared, that few plays were so interesting 
 as life. The pity was that people omitted to giVe a 
 correct attention to it. 
 
 In regard to the first night, Grace;, in the stalls, with a 
 spare place next to her to hold coat and hat (thus escaping 
 cloak-room fees), felt unable to adopt the reserved and 
 detached manner of others near. Moments of trial came 
 when Edmund sauntered on, and before he had to speak ; 
 if either Hedley — sent off to Southampton by his firm — or 
 Tom — engaged in taking two valuable City men out to 
 dinner — had been there, she would have gripped a hand 
 tightly ; as it was, she reduced her programme to shreds. 
 But so soon as Edmund had delivered his first words, 
 speaking them easily and naturally, then she recovered, 
 and pure enjoyment followed. There was a great scene 
 wherein the actor manager (who because he had forwarded 
 the seats, received some of Grace’s approval) had to give 
 advice to Edmund, and Edmund had nothing to say 
 until close to the finish, when one question from him 
 reminded the elder man that he had not, in his youth, 
 practised all that, in middle age, he preached. The actor- 
 manager had many calls when the curtain went down 
 on this act ; at the last call he, with great good nature, 
 brought Edmund forward. It was here that Grace split 
 a pair of gloves which had cost but a farthing short of 
 three shillings. 
 
 Edmund had written to say that Grace was to be at 
 the stage door within ten minutes after the close of the 
 performance ; he would take her on for supper at an 
 inexpensive restaurant in Soho with which he had made 
 acquaintance. “ I shall probably need your sympathy,” 
 he added. It was clear now that instead of this proud 
 congratulations would be given over the table ; there 
 was likely to be interesting news of other members of the 
 company, and Grace could furnish the best of the remarks 
 overheard in the stalls. 
 
 She went out with the rest, as the orchestra played a 
 brief and fussy march, and, in the vestibule, she waited 
 
158 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 until lights began to be turned off. At the side of the 
 theatre, a lad, holding a note, was putting a question to 
 women folk there. “ Do you happen, by any chance, 
 please, to be Mrs. Bannerton ? ” Under a lamp, Grace 
 read : 
 
 “ Don’t expect me to-night. Have been asked to join 
 a party at the Carlton. Hope to see you in the course 
 of a few weeks or later.” 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 HE shock caused by Edmund’s new manner was 
 
 partially assuaged by news and an appeal from 
 
 Rydon Crescent. Hester, in a communication open- 
 ing on a triumphant note, announced that Mr. Limpsfield 
 had insisted, simply insisted, that the wedding should 
 take place at once ; there was a hint to the effect that 
 she herself would have preferred to wait a year or two. 
 But as Mr. Limpsfield had taken up this determined 
 attitude, Hester thought it the best plan to give way, 
 and the ceremony had been fixed for the twenty-sixth. 
 Grace was to be present, and if she cared to do so, she 
 could bring her husband. 
 
 “ And now, dear,” Hester’s letter went on, after turning 
 a leaf, “ I want you to be very generous and sisterly, 
 and to come to my help in regard to expenses. One does 
 not get married often, and therefore one would like to do 
 it handsomely. Will you lend me twenty-five pounds ? 
 You know what clothes cost, and you: will realize that I 
 want to make a good impression. J Food is no small item. 
 We must have a new drugget for the front room. Father 
 will have to be dressed up for the occasion. There is 
 loss of time to be reckoned. Take it altogether, I do not 
 see how anything less than thirty pounds can cover it. 
 If you will bring along notes for the amount, I can give 
 you a receipt, and the matter will be settled.” A post- 
 script mentioned that other details, had come into the 
 writer’s thoughts, and she trusted that Grace would be 
 able to make it thirty-five. It was better, argued Hester 
 sagely, to err on the safe side. 
 
 Grace, helped by a sense of authority and management, 
 reached Rydon Crescent on the morning of the wedding 
 
 159 
 
160 
 
 BANNEKTON’S AGENCY 
 
 day in good spirits. Tom Bannerton had said that he 
 would certainly accompany her ; later, he alluded to a 
 fear that the City might claim his services, finally there 
 arose the question of thp' secretaryship to the Political 
 Club. He had an idea that he ought to relinquish this. 
 Grace said “ No. 5 ’ Tom Bannerton considered the space 
 given to the duties there might now be looked upon as 
 wasted. Grace said one never knew what might happen. 
 Finally, an arrangement was made. 
 
 “ You postpone taking any action,” suggested Grace, 
 “ and I’ll let you ofi coming to my elder sister’s wedding.” 
 V “ It’s a bargain,” he said promptly. 
 
 “ What excuse shall I make ? ” 
 
 “ Think of a dozen, and pick out the best.” 
 
 So here was Grace in a morning of fog on the steps of 
 her old home, noting that the reticent card which used 
 to announce in a whisper “ Dressmaking ” had been 
 taken away ; that clean muslin curtains were up, and that 
 the aged brass plate was shining. Mrs. Price, charwoman, 
 answered the knock, appearing rather like a superannuated 
 member of a musical comedy chorus with a saucy lace 
 cap perched on her insufficient grey hair and wearing, 
 over a rusty bodice and skirt, a dainty pinafore with two 
 pockets. Grace was delayed in order that she should 
 receive the joyous information that Mrs. Price was ex- 
 pecting to be called away at any moment to attend a house 
 in Northampton Street, and see to a lady who had always 
 declared and made public her resolve that Mrs. Price 
 and no one else, should, when breath left the body, lay 
 her out. 
 
 “ I take it as a great compliment,” said Mrs. Price, 
 trembling with delight, “to be so much sought after, 
 and you’re free to mention it, my love, to any one you 
 chance to ’appen across.” 
 
 The residents of the house were upstairs,, and voices 
 called Grace to ascend the staircase ; at the landing, 
 her father from his room, begged her to lend a hand with 
 an obstinate, self-willed collar ; Kate, from her room 
 (formerly the property of Edmund and Bobert), cried 
 that Grace was to come to her instantly ; the bride gave 
 a screamed appeal. Hester’s case seemed the most urgent, 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 161 
 
 for the bridesmaid, after making affidavit the evening 
 before that she would be little more than half a second 
 late, had not yet arrived. 
 
 “ No telegram from her,” wailed Hester, “ and no nothing. 
 Do you think it’s all done on purpose ? You never know 
 what jealousy leads to.” 
 
 The bride had checked herself at a half-way stage in 
 regard to apparel, and seemed disposed to give in to the 
 opposition of fate ; Grace entered on the duties of lady’s 
 maid, talked sharply, gave to her sister one or two remind- 
 ing grips of the shoulder, and within a quarter of an hour, 
 and as the bridesmaid scampered up, Hester was ready. 
 The bridesmaid had a long account to supply of all the 
 obstacles which attempted to bar her way on the incon- 
 siderable journey, and she took it very ill that Grace 
 would not give complete attention ; Grace went in to her 
 father’s room and he said, presently, “ Thank ye, my 
 dear, thank ye ; always helpful you was, from a liT girl.” 
 Kate’s difficulties with a blouse were already over, but 
 the young sister wanted to chat with Grace, and to give 
 confidences in regard to Friday Street prospects, and, 
 above all, to inquire why Grace had been such a fool as 
 to hand money to Hester. 
 
 “ I lent it, because I’d got it. And I daresay she’ll 
 pay it back, sooner or later.” 
 
 “She’ll pay it back, a shilling at a time, and on each 
 occasion she’ll think she’s doing you a great favour.” 
 
 “ But isn’t that what always happens over loans ? ” 
 
 “ How do you think I look ? ” asked Kate, turning to 
 a pleasanter subject. 
 
 “ You’re a winner,” declared Grace emphatically. 
 “ The rest of us will be amongst the also rans. There’s 
 the first carriage driving up.” . 
 
 The livery stables folk were behaving with generosity 
 in sending the two conveyances thus early, and the Crescent 
 was able, for quite a long period, to give up the domestic 
 tasks which usually occupied a morning ; women leaned 
 out of windows, or stood at front doors, or strolled along, 
 arms wrapped in aprons, to the Lennards’ house, and to 
 take the support of railings there. They spoke of the 
 absence of sunshine, and discussed the portents of this ; 
 
 11 
 
162 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 they compared the fog with other fogs encountered by 
 them in the past, and hinted that it was but a moderate 
 effort. 4 4 If you want a real pea-souper/’ they said, 46 go 
 and live down by the river. Carve it with a knife and 
 fork you can, there ! ” More than one false alarm had 
 been given by outposts ere the ladies of the house, pre- 
 ceded by Mr. Lennard, who appeared trussed by a frock 
 coat that he had been measured for in slimmer days, 
 came out, and then the Crescent, in its open curiosity, 
 mpeded progress until Mrs. Price from the door called out, 
 44 Gangway there, gangway, can’t you ? ” whereupon the 
 party was allowed to enter the carriages, and to drive 
 away, vanishing in the misty air. 
 
 The Crescent had the assistance of youngsters, home 
 from school, when the carriages returned. Their interest 
 concerned one member of the party only. 
 
 44 Which is him ? ” they demanded eagerly. 44 Where’s 
 the victim ? ” 
 
 And Mr. Limpsfield being identified by authority, they 
 became immoderately diverted, and started a popular air 
 called 44 You’ll be awfully sorry for this some day.” The 
 children went on with the chant after the ladies and gen- 
 tlemen had gone indoors ; the best man appeared at the 
 window shaking a threatening fist, and they sang more 
 lustily ; Mrs. Price came out with the broom, and they, 
 ran as though in danger of their lives. 
 
 Robert, the elder brother, had come back with the party, 
 and the most perplexing detail, so far as Grace was con- 
 cerned, was to see him there no longer exercising authority. 
 Privately, Kate hinted that Robert, after occupying a 
 commanding position for a while in the household of his 
 young lady at Crouch End, suddenly found that he had 
 met his match ; the lady had started the habit of talking 
 to him with the candour generally attributed to Dutch 
 uncles. And Grace would have been able to comply 
 with her father’s earnest request — 44 You take charge, 
 my dear, and then everything’ll go right. After all, 
 you’ve provided the money” — but for the fact that the 
 best man, gratified by his own adroitness at church, took 
 the view that it would be good and wise for him to con- 
 tinue to hold the reigns of management. The best man 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 163 
 
 allowed Mr. Lennard to take the chair at the head of the 
 table, but issued commands in regard to the placing of 
 the others. “ You here,” he ordered, “ and you here, 
 and you over there ! ” Similarly, he directed, that Mrs. 
 Bannerton was to give no assistance in serving the dishes ; 
 on this Mrs. Price, lace cap now awry, made at the doorway 
 a personal statement. She was, she said, in the unfortunate 
 position of having but one pair of hands. Admitting the 
 circumstance to be regrettable, and asserting that if the 
 number were greater they would be at the disposal of her 
 temporary employers, she begged that help should be 
 furnished lest there ensued — in her own words — absolute 
 hell and tommy. Grace, disregarding the best man’s 
 protests, went to her aid, and from this moment all went 
 admirably, excepting the conversation. The best man 
 discussed across the table with the bridegroom certain 
 highly placed friends, referred to by mystic names, and 
 alluded to by the best man, if they happened to be married, 
 with a sympathetic adjective. This was endured for 
 some time until Grace, her duties in serving over, took a 
 hand. 
 
 “ Ever see anything, Kate, of those Berkeley Square 
 people now ? ” 
 
 “ One of the girls, my particular chum, is engaged,” 
 answered Kate alertly. Engaged to an American million- 
 aire.” 
 
 “ Poor soul,” ejaculated Grace. “ She deserved a 
 better fate.” 
 
 “ Business acquaintances ? ” asked the best man inter- 
 estedly. 
 
 “ Dear me, no,” said Grace shortly. “ And,” to Kate, 
 “ the Palace folk ? What about the eldest daughter ? ” 
 
 “ There was a wedding arranged, but it was broken off, 
 by consent. The Duke was the first to suggest it.” 
 
 £C Just as well,” remarked Grace, “ for her, lucky girl. 
 I never trusted him.” 
 
 The best man, considerably perplexed, endeavoured to 
 raise another topic. Was it not — to put the matter 
 frankly — the aim of every young woman to become married, 
 and ought she not to feel jolly well pleased to achieve 
 this objective ? Of course, he knew, and everyone knew, 
 
164 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 there were opportunities nowadays for girls to earn a 
 living, but when all was said and done, they were in the 
 main uncommonly glad to escape from office or other work, 
 and enter on the comparative ease and serenity of matri- 
 monial life. Within ten minutes, and ere fruit was brought 
 in by Mrs. Price 
 
 “ The worst is over,” said that lady with melancholy 
 triumph. “ Now I don’t mind how soon they send for 
 me for that job at Northampton Street ! ” 
 
 — The best man was attempting to change the subject of 
 debate, by suggesting that Lloyd George in his Limehouse 
 speech of July in the previous year, had bitten off more 
 than he could manage to chew ; Grace and her sisters 
 refused to exhibit any mercy. Robert, appealed to by 
 the best man to give a view on politics, mentioned cau- 
 tiously that there was a good deal to be said on both 
 sides. Mr. Lennard thought you were never safe in laying 
 down general rules. The bridesmaid, hitherto impartial, 
 said she was inclined to side with the best man. The 
 bridegroom, declining at first, to express any view, later 
 said, with an unexpected burst of humour, to the best 
 man : 
 
 “ What time is your Miss Dunbar going to call for you ? 55 
 : Whereupon the best man, reddening, urged that con- 
 fidences between gentlemen should be respected, admitted 
 that he had the honour of Miss Dunbar’s acquaintance, 
 and held her in genuine admiration for her singing, but 
 he asked the company to believe that there was nothing 
 like a formal understanding between himself and the 
 lady. But as the question had been put, he did not 
 mind saying that Miss Dunbar was to call at three o’clock ; 
 she had told him that she knew at least one member of 
 the family. 
 
 “ That’s true,” said Grace. “ And I shall be pleased 
 to meet her again. She’s a good sort, and she likes a 
 a lot of people.” 
 
 “ I believe I’m the only real friend she’s got.” 
 
 “ They all are.” 
 
 “ Funny thing is,” remarked the bridegroom, “ that it 
 was only a bit of chaff on my side. I’d no idea, matters 
 had gone so far between them.” 
 
BANNEBTON’S AGENCY 
 
 165 
 
 After this, the best man, deserted now by the brides- 
 maid, took the part of butt or target, and the ladies sketched 
 out details of his married life, with his partner singing to 
 him throughout the day from the earliest moment with 
 “ Beloved, it is morn,” to a lullaby “ Oh, hush thee ” at 
 eleven fifteen p.m. 
 
 They were saying that it was useless now to hope for 
 a call from Edmund, when a taxicab drove up out of 
 the fog, and Hester, at the window announced, with awe, 
 that the driver had been instructed to wait. Edmund 
 dashed in, kissed his father, kissed his sisters, shook hands 
 with the bridesmaid and the two men, and said repeatedly, 
 “ Well, what do you think of this hideous weather ? ” 
 without showing any desire to obtain an answer. Awfully 
 sorry, terribly cut up that he could not possibly arrive 
 in time for ceremony ; every moment of the day 
 filled, and absolutely no time to call his own. Edmund 
 said to Grace : 
 
 “ And how is the business going ? ” 
 
 Pressed a five pound note into Hester’s hand, and begged 
 her to purchase a wedding gift ; looked at his watch, 
 ejaculated, “ Good Lord, I shall be late ! ” and ran out 
 of the house. The taxicab carried him off ; he waved a 
 glove in leaving, and the guests of the wedding party had 
 the sensation of extricating themselves from an ava- 
 lanche. 
 
 It was Mr. Lennard who repeated the inquiry made to 
 Grace and provided her with the occasion for talking of 
 the office, extolling its successes and minimizing its fail- 
 ures ; the step from this to proud references to Tom Ban- 
 nerton was easy. In describing her husband’s activities 
 in the City, she did not engage the complete attention of 
 her audience, for the best man was now at the window, 
 and the bridesmaid, having discovered a photograph of 
 Edmund, was gazing at it with the rapt expression of one 
 who has suddenly ascertained the true meaning of love. 
 
 “ Very satisfactory,” commented Grace’s father. “ Your 
 man, Grace, has — I don’t mind saying it— more’n come 
 up to my expectations. If he only takes care not to lose 
 his head, he’ll do well. Personally, I’m in favour of a 
 steady-going way of earning a livelihood, but, in these 
 
166 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 days, it don’t do to be too partic’lar. Likely enough, 
 I’d have done better if I’d had a bit more dash.” 
 
 “ You’ve been happier without it, father.” 
 
 “ Possibly, possibly. It’s all according to anybody’s 
 nature. Your mother, in her time, was always the leader ; 
 I simply follered. That’s what I did,” he chuckled. “ I 
 follered. And I wouldn’t have nothing to complain about 
 now, only that I seem to be getting lonely. There won’t 
 be no one but Kate.” 
 
 “ Kate’s a good girl.” 
 
 “ She’s a good gel,” he said rather wistfully, “ what 
 there is of her, but she too is bound to get married in due 
 course. And the drorback to girls and boys growing old 
 is that they go so far away. Not fur in distance, but fur 
 in position. Think of young Edmund.” 
 
 “ Edmund,” she mentioned, “ is a special case. His 
 luck is enough to turn any youngster’s head.” 
 
 “ Their head always gets turned away from their parents.” 
 “ Whatever happens to Tom,” promised Grace, “ that 
 won’t happen in my case.” 
 
 “ You remind me,” he said, “ more than what the others 
 do of your poor mother. You keep on working, and you 
 keep on being cheerful. And anybody who can do them 
 two ” 
 
 “ Here she is ! ” cried the best man at the window ex- 
 citedly. “ Mrs. Bannerton, do you think I might ask 
 her to come in ? ” 
 
 “ Of course ! ” said Grace. 
 
 Miss Dunbar, in entering, seemed to overcrowd the room, 
 and she also in talk dominated it ; the agitated best man 
 found a sprig, left from a bunch of grapes, and occupied 
 himself by breaking it into small pieces, whilst Robert, 
 increasing his new habit of reserve in speech, nodded 
 agreement to ail that the new arrival said. A Carter 
 Paterson van appeared suddenly out of the fog, and 
 the carman delivered a large hamper which Mrs. Price 
 brought in, with triumph. “ Another present,” she 
 announced, “ onless I’m greatly mistook.” Grace was 
 able to identify the handwriting as that of Aunt Eliza, 
 and the rest noted that the encouraging word “ Glass ” 
 was exhibited in several places. Speculations and guesses 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 167 
 
 in regard to the contents were offered ; the majority 
 seemed to favour the idea of a set of tumblers, and perhaps 
 a water jug. Hester, having cut the strings, raised the 
 lid, and read from a slip of paper that rested on the straw. 
 One bott. champagne, two botts. claret, one bott. port, 
 one bott. sherry, one bott. whiskey, one bott. brandy, 
 one bott. rum, one bott. gin,. 
 
 “ Very thoughtful of your aunt,” said the bridegroom 
 satirically, “ in view of the notorious fact that we are 
 both of us teetotallers.” 
 
 “ But not bigoted,” urged his wife. “ If ever we should 
 have colds, we might be glad of a sip.” 
 
 The best man emerged from retirement, and achieved 
 popularity by exhibiting a useful knife which included 
 amongst its many qualifications something that would 
 pull a cork:; he recited a tragic occurrence of a journey 
 on a Great Northern express which had persuaded him 
 to make the investment. The first sips taken, animation 
 pervaded the company, and the best man made a capital 
 little speech, and received applause from Miss Dunbar ; 
 Mr. Limpsfield, replying in well selected phrases, 
 was openly kissed by Hester. Mrs. Price, invited in at 
 Grace’s suggestion, collapsed at the sight of the variety 
 of bottles on the table, and moaned feebly, “ It’s a dream, 
 a dream ! ” Recovering, she showed a proper coyness 
 and then, in view of the condition of her heart, selected 
 gin. A tendency to become garrulous on obstetric sub- 
 jects induced Grace to lead her away. The bride was 
 escorted upstairs to prepare for the journey to Walton- 
 on-Naze, and wept bitterly until Grace pointed out that 
 there was"- nothing to cry about, and thatbojfo so made 
 her appearance unattractive. 
 
 “ But everybody is so kind,” moaned Hester. 
 
 “.That ought to make you laugh,” said Grace. 
 
 4 ‘ I’ve never had so much fuss made about me.” 
 
 “ It* happens to be the first time j you’ve been mar- 
 ried.”^ 
 
 TheTguests talked, when the pair had gone, and few 
 talked'so much as Miss Dunbar. RecallingTGrace’s visit 
 on a memorable night to Baker Street, she asked if Mr. 
 Bannerton was keeping Veil, and Vent on at once to say 
 
168 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 that she had that morning encountered him, and that he 
 had told her of all his anxieties. 
 
 “ He is beginning to suspect his partner,” Miss Dunbar 
 continued rapidly, “ and he doesn’t know what’s going to 
 be the end of it all, and he thinks there’s a conspiracy, 
 
 and . I’ve just remembered that when I told him I 
 
 might be seeing you, he particularly asked me not to say 
 anything. So please, dear, put it out of your mind.” 
 
 Grace found at Churton Street that all had gone well 
 at the Victoria, where cook demanded particulars of the 
 wedding. This caused her to arrive somewhat late at 
 the office ; Alfred Plowman, furnishing a satisfactory 
 report, rushed off to keep an engagement at evening classes. 
 It was an hour later, when she had gone through papers, 
 and had written business letters and was waiting to give 
 to Tom Bannerton a few direct words on the subject of 
 giving confidences to any woman other than his wife, 
 that she found on the desk a telegram ; the envelope 
 had been officially endorsed by Alfred as opened in error. 
 
 “ Handed in at Highbury 2.45 p.m. Delivered 3.10 p.m. 
 
 Call on me immediately. Very urgent. 
 
 Alicia Bannerton.” 
 
I 
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 T HE wire was plainly inscribed to Mrs. Bannerton, but 
 Grace bad experience of mistakes in telegraphic 
 communications. (There was the case where she 
 had sent a message, on behalf of her League, to one of the 
 supporters who had received a knighthood ; he withdrew 
 his subscription because the remark that the honour was 
 overdue reached him with the word “ overdone ” sub- 
 stituted). Grace first said to herself that the message 
 could wait for Tom’s arrival, and then decided the occasion 
 was one for renewing the acquaintance of the Highbury lady. 
 
 “ After all,” she argued, “ I’m not afraid of her. And 
 perhaps she wants to be amiable.” 
 
 The tram cars had passed through their strenuous hours 
 with the interruptions caused by the fog that was now 
 rolling away, and one took her along swiftly to the point 
 where Holloway Road begins. Stepping out there, it oc- 
 curred to her that to drive up to the house would make an 
 effective impression ; she managed to hail a taxicab, and 
 the driver, turning his head to listen to the address, said 
 amazedly, “ Well, here’s a coincidence, if you like. Took 
 an elderly party there from the City this afternoon, I did. 
 Back there this evening, I takes a youngish chap to the same 
 house, I does. And now you. Is that a coincidence, or 
 isn’t it ? ” Grace said no other description would be 
 appropriate, and obtained some particulars concerning the 
 earlier fares. It appeared the elderly gentleman had 
 hummed, in a cheerful manner, on the journey ; the second 
 — “ A picture of despair,” said the driver, with emphasis. 
 “ Nothing more, nothing less. Seemed very much like a 
 chap who was inclined to shuffle off this mortal coil. Under- 
 stand what I mean, don’t you ? ” 
 
 169 
 
170 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 The front door of the house in Highbury Terrace was 
 opened on the chain by an austere-looking maid, who 
 insisted that the visitor’s name should be given with 
 distinctness before entrance was permitted. Grace found 
 herself shown into an unlighted room at the back of the 
 house. The woman, with a deep sigh, put a match to a single 
 candle. 
 
 “ No electric light ? ” asked Grace. 
 
 “ We are keeping this quarter’s account down,” said the 
 maid. “ The mistress is no believer in waste. Kindly take 
 a seat.” 
 
 Tom Bannerton’s mother, talking to the maid as she came 
 and giving instructions in economy, broke off to greet the 
 visitor. 
 
 “ I expected you some time since,” she remarked curtly. 
 “ What is the explanation of the delay ? ” 
 
 “ Don’t trouble about that,” counselled Grace. “ Let 
 me know what you want. Tom is very likely waiting for 
 me at home.” 
 
 “ I can relieve you of anxiety on that score,” said the 
 lady of the house. “ My son is not coming back to 
 you.” 
 
 “ Any betting on it ? ” 
 
 The other misapprehended the question. “ It is a far 
 more serious business than racing,” she said. “ The whole 
 affair is so important that I can scarcely expect you to 
 realize it.” 
 
 “ I can have a try.” 
 
 “ My son has managed to involve himself in a most 
 disastrous financial complication in the City. It will 
 probably be necessary for him to be sent abroad to one of 
 our Colonies.” 
 
 <c I’m by no means certain,” remarked Grace, “ that I 
 want to go away from London. You see ” 
 
 “ No need for you to go. In the absence of children, you 
 can easily agree to a separation.” 
 
 Grace eyed her steadily. 
 
 “ Does this idea come from you ? ” 
 
 “ That,” she said, “ is one of the arguments in its favour.” 
 She met the younger woman’s gaze with composure and 
 defiance ; Grace rose and went to the mantelpiece. There 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 171 
 
 Were four photographs there in silver frames, and they 
 represented Tom Bannerton at various stages of life ; 
 looking at them she reminded herself that she was dealing 
 with Tom’s mother. Tom’s mother, in her own way, had 
 an affection for him. 
 
 “ Let us get it quite clear,” said Grace, keeping her voice 
 down. “ You have said something intended to madden 
 me, but I’d rather we discussed the affair in a quiet style. 
 Did your plans begin to-day, or were they started when he 
 went into the City ? ” 
 
 “ I am not going to answer that question.” 
 
 “ Was old Beau Brummel — Watherston, I mean — playing 
 in the game ? Did you and him enter into a sort of con- 
 spiracy ? ” 
 
 “ Mr. Watherston ’and I,” retorted the other, “ have not 
 met for some time.” 
 
 “ Depends what you call some. He was here anyway 
 this afternoon.” 
 
 Tom Bannerton’s mother strode across to the bell knob 
 and pressed it. The severe maid appeared, and was 
 interrogated with brusqueness. What had Alice said 
 exactly to this young woman, and how dared Alice cackle 
 about matters in which she was not concerned ? Grace 
 interposed, excusing the maid from responsibility, and the 
 maid received imperative orders from her mistress to leave 
 the room at once. 
 
 “ Mr. Tom,” said the maid pointedly before complying, 
 “ is inquiring ” 
 
 “ Where is he ? ” asked Grace quickly. 
 
 “ Upstairs, ma’am.” 
 
 “ Thank you,” said Grace. “ Now then ! ” To the lady 
 of the house. “ We are gradually collecting and dis- 
 tributing information. I have told you old Watherston 
 nailed here to day. Your maid has told me my husband 
 is here. My turn to move. Let me inform you — in case 
 you don’t remember it — that you have never forgiven me 
 for marrying Tom.” 
 
 “ I never shall.” 
 
 “ It was hard luck on you, in a way,” admitted Grace. 
 “ It happened just when money came in your direction. 
 But that wasn’t my fault, and if you were anything like a 
 
172 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 just woman, you’d see it, and knuckle down to circum- 
 stances. After all, lie might have done worse.” 
 
 “ He might,” said Tom’s mother, “ have done so much 
 better.” 
 
 “ Not being anything like a just woman, you couldn’t 
 think of any better plan than to call in the help of Wather- 
 ston, and get him to do all he could to lead Tom into a trap. 
 
 Into a trap from which you would be the one to rescue him.” 
 
 “ He is all I’ve got.” 
 
 Grace flared around at her, and spoke rapidly. 
 
 “ You haven’t got him. I’ve got him, and I mean to 
 keep hold of him. I work hard, and I work pretty success- 
 fully, and, although you’ve got the pull over me so far as 
 money is concerned, it’s my job, more than yours, to get him 
 out of any awkward corner. Mind you this ; I love him. 
 He’s got plenty of drawbacks, but I love him.” 
 
 “ If that is so,” argued the elder woman, with a mixture 
 of the ingratiating and the aggressive, “ here is the chance 
 for you to show it. Here is an opportunity for self-sacrifice. 
 
 Let him go abroad. Let him begin afresh. Let him erase 
 the muddles of the past, and start life again.” 
 
 “ But, bless my soul ! ” cried Grace warmly. “ Have 
 some sense about you. He would be worse ofl than ever 
 with no one to give advice.” 
 
 “ I should be with him ! ” 
 
 Grace, acting on precedent, touched the knob of the bell ' 
 at the side of the mantelpiece. Alice came as one ready to 
 defend herself in a new attack, c ‘ Would you mind, ’ ’ begged 
 Grace, “asking my husband to come here, please?” 
 Alice said, “ Very good, madam.” Grace spoke abruptly 
 to Tom’s mother. 
 
 “ Mind you, I only want to act for the best,” she said. 
 “In his interests. So you just put forward your going * ' 
 abroad idea, and let him decide which of us is to be his 
 companion.” 
 
 The elder woman looked on apprehensiv^y as Tom 
 Bannerton, entering the room, went across to Grace, and \ 
 hugged her. “ Sorry, old girl,” he whispered. Pulling 
 himself together, he stood by her side. 
 
 “ I’ve got myself in a deuce of a mess,” he remarked. 
 
 “ I am waiting to hear about it,” said Grace. 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 173 
 
 He did not at once supply the information, and his 
 mother recapitulated the details as supplied to her ; he 
 made small corrections, now and again. At one point 
 Grace stepped away from her husband, but he followed 
 and took her hand. The mother said a few words, emphasiz- 
 ing the seriousness of the position, and alluding to the 
 threat of proceedings at Mansion House J ustice Room. This 
 done, there came the hint of swift departure from the country. 
 
 “ I suggest, 5 ’ said the elder Mrs. Bannerton deliberately, 
 “ catching the night mail. I have the times and all particu- 
 lars here. We could be at Marseilles by to-morrow night, 
 and from there we 55 
 
 “ We ? 55 echoed her son inquiringly. 
 
 “ You and I . 55 
 
 “ And what becomes of our Grace ? ” 
 
 “ Your Grace , 55 answered his mother, “ is, judging from 
 her own accounts, well able to look after herself . 55 
 
 “ Oh but , 55 he said, with promptitude, “ I 5 m not going 
 to leave Grace. Unless she wants me to go 55 — Grace patted 
 his sleeve reassuringly — “ I 5 m prepared to face the music. 
 Discordant as it may be . 55 
 
 “ You won’t go abroad ? 55 demanded his mother. 
 
 “ I won’t go abroad with you . 55 
 
 “ And you refuse to take advantage of the opportunity 
 to break away from this girl ? 55 
 
 “ I should be a rare specimen of a pure-bred mongrel if I 
 did.” 
 
 The elder Mrs. Bannerton went to the mantelpiece, 
 gathered the framed portraits, and threw them into the 
 fire. In a dramatic way, she pointed to the door. 
 
 “ You haven’t, I suppose,” he asked, “ such a thing as a 
 Virginian cigarette about the place ? ” 
 
 Grace and her husband sat up late that night in Churton 
 Street, and Tom Bannerton seemed to find a relish in 
 sketching out the most dismal expectations. He did not 
 propose to ask for bail, and the space between committal 
 and an appearance at the Central Criminal Court would, he 
 believed, prove short. Visitors were allowed at prison 
 establishments, and he relied on Grace to come to see him 
 whenever permission could be obtained. Grace was to keep 
 the office going, and to continue her work at the restaurant, 
 
174 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 because, the moment when the sentence finished, cash 
 would be required ; Grace could arrange for a meeting at 
 some point distant from London. Any idea of an eventual 
 return to Churton Street was, of course, altogether out of 
 the question. A change of name, and a heroic change of 
 neighbourhood would permit of a fresh .start, with all the 
 benefit that comes from a severe warning. Tom Bannerton 
 foresaw there would be plenty of time for consideration ; at 
 present, he was inclined to hope some alternative to the 
 Colonies might be found. But if the worst came to the 
 worst, there was New Zealand, and he happened to know a 
 City man who had but just gone out to settle down at 
 Auckland, where, apparently, life was made endurable by 
 cricket , and tennis, and an agency, on the lines of Churton 
 Street, c6uld perhaps be opened. He was filling, in antici- 
 pation, a notable part in the social activities of Auckland, 
 when Grace ordered him off to rest. 
 
 At breakfast the next morning, he announced he had 
 slept well ; Grace, being challenged, admitted she had not 
 closed her eyes, and was reproved for taking matters too 
 seriously. He remained upstairs during the whole of the 
 day, engaged on the undertaking referred to as squaring up 
 affairs. This involved the writing of many letters, the 
 preparation of a defence (which he read later with admirable 
 elocution to a tearful audience of one), the drafting of a will, 
 and a statement in the, most vehement and libellous terms 
 to be handed to Watherston, in order that Watherston 
 should see himself as another saw him. As to Grace, 
 occupied in the office below, the arrival of each caller made 
 her become hot and cold witji apprehension ; Alfred 
 Plowman told her frankly that she must not give way to 
 nerves, and spoke of an aunt who did give way, and conse- 
 quently went all to pieces. At the Victoria, regular cus- 
 tomers, in paying at the cashier’s desk, said she required 
 a holiday ; one, formerly connected with the docks and now 
 enjoying the leisure of retirement, announced his intention 
 of going Trinity Square way to ascertain if there was a free 
 pass knocking about for a short steamer voyage. Grace 
 hastened back to the office with the grisly assurance in her 
 mind that detectives had called' during her absence ; Alfred 
 declared no one of importance had looked in. 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 175 
 
 The boat pass, London to Bordeaux, was handed in on 
 the morrow with compliments, and Grace induced her 
 husband to take charge of it, and to go away for the few 
 days that the voyage would occupy. Tom Bannerton, less 
 resolute and courageous now on account of the delay, 
 arranged an ingenious code for telegraphic use ; if the 
 police brought a warrant for arrest to Churton Street during 
 his absence, the word “ Butterfly ” was to be sent to him 
 at the Bordeaux hotel. 
 
 “ Leave the rest to me,” he directed. 
 
 It was a relief to Grace to see him — well muffled up, hat 
 drawn over eyes, in the manner practised in the best 
 criminal circles — leave Churton Street, and to hear him give 
 orders in a loud voice to the cabman to drive to Paddington 
 station, thus putting folk off the track. Upstairs, she 
 collected all the documents he had written, and set them 
 away ; she wrote, with a hand that had not yet ceased to 
 tremble, a cautious letter to Hedley which she marked 
 “ Urgent and Personal.” In the communication, Hedley 
 was begged to discover by any means at his command 
 when proceedings were likely to be taken, and their nature ; 
 he was also urged to name a good firm of solicitors. She 
 signed herself “ Your grateful and affectionate friend,” 
 and welcomed the sound of<! fire-engine bells as 
 likely to divert her thoughts. She went out, with^ the 
 other residents of Churton Street, to make investiga- 
 tion. 
 
 The blaze, it appeared, had started in a timber yard, the 
 stock of which seemed to have been arranged for the very 
 purpose ; there were houses set conveniently for the pro- 
 gress of the fire. The air filled with smoke ; business was 
 everywhere suspended. Grace, hurrying up with the rest, 
 and, with the rest, stopped by the police from going danger- 
 ously close, saw that from the top floor of one of the en- 
 dangered houses articles of furniture were thrown wildly ; 
 it seemed unlikely their value could be improved by the 
 treatment. An escape was brought forward, and a fireman 
 made the ascent ; the crowd groaned deeply on noting that 
 the man of the floor insisted on priority, edging his wife and 
 three children aside that he might have the first chance of 
 rescue. It needed but this to induce Grace, when the 
 
176 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 other members of the family were brought through the line 
 
 made by constables, to offer hospitality. 
 
 “ Let the parish look after them / 5 said folk warningly. 
 
 “ You don’t realize what you’re taking on,” argued the 
 tobacconist’s wife. 
 
 Grace escorted the party of four to Seventeen Churton 
 Street, urging the youngsters not to cry, and assuring them 
 the fire would soon be extinguished. It appeared this was 
 not in any way included in their desires ; the eldest declared 
 that he hoped the flames would stretch far and wide, and, in 
 his own words, roast people to death like billy-ho ; his 
 sisters particularly hoped that the County Council schools 
 which they attended might be entirely destroyed. Grace 
 had left her address with the sergeant of the police, and told 
 the mother (whose right eye betrayed recent injury) that | 
 the husband would have no difficulty in ascertaining where 
 a temporary refuge had been obtained ; the woman shook 
 her head knowingly and remarked that, in her opinion, he 
 had done a bunk. Meaning, thereby, to suggest that he had 
 taken the opportunity to disappear. 
 
 “ Do you think,” inquired Grace sympathetically, “ that 
 the fright of this has turned his brain ? ” 
 
 “ He hasn’t got one to turn,” replied the wife. “ But 
 trust him, the blighter, for dodging trouble.” 
 
 “ Don’t talk like that, please, in front of the children.” 
 
 “ They’ve never ’eard me allude to him in any other way,” 
 she "said. 
 
 Not an agreeable family circle. Grace, with the best 
 intentions of offering kindness, and of assisting those in 
 
 wished some one else had provided house room. Beds for 
 the guests had been made up hurriedly on the floor in the 
 spare room and the bathroom placed at their disposal ; 
 they complained, with great unanimity, of the sleeping 
 accommodation and ridiculed the idea of total immersion. 
 “ You’re bent on us catching colds,” said the mother 
 suspiciously. “ That’s what you’re bent on doing.” The 
 husband justified her prophecy by making no sign ; the 
 furniture had, it appeared, been taken away by curious 
 
 distress, had to admit, within twenty-four hours, that she 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 177 
 
 fire, the children were sent off each morning at twenty 
 minutes to nine ; they returned at ten minutes past twelve 
 shouting, afar off, their demands for food,, and they came 
 from afternoon school to upset the office, and to scream 
 for tea. Alfred Plowman recommended that the mother 
 should be asked to keep them under control. 
 
 “ But what next, I wonder,” protested the woman, when 
 Grace conveyed this message. 44 I give ’em a shake, every 
 now and again when I’ve got nothing else to do, but I can’t 
 be always at it.” 
 
 44 You must do as you are told,” said Grace, firmly. 
 44 And I want you too, whilst you are here, to be of some 
 help about the house.” 
 
 44 If you think you’re dealing with a common servant,” 
 retorted the other, 44 you’re very much mistook. I’ve 
 never thanks be sunk quite so low as all that.” 
 
 44 You have been here now for three days.” 
 
 44 Seems longer.” 
 
 44 And you have not done a hand’s stroke of work during 
 the whole of the time.” 
 
 44 No one who knows me would be surprised at that.” 
 
 44 And if,” said Grace, 44 you don’t alter, the best plan will 
 be for you to leave, and take your youngsters off to some 
 relative.” 
 
 “ Thanks,” remarked the woman, <4 but I never move 
 from where I’m comfortable.” 
 
 44 You really talk as though you intend to stay on here for 
 ever.” 
 
 44 And why not ? ” 
 
 Alfred, goaded by the erratic deportment of the children, 
 asked to be allowed to consult with his parent, who, he 
 hinted, had a considerable gift for the solving of problems 
 of a domestic nature ; oftentimes, she proved useful where 
 stipendiary magistrates and police court missionaries failed. 
 And Mrs. Plowman, brought to Churton Street, furnished 
 a warranty that here was a case well within her powers ; 
 guaranteed that, endowed with full powers, she would find a 
 remedy in less than two ticks. She went upstairs to talk 
 to the woman and returned to confess that her first scheme 
 — which included a convincing but unfounded statement to 
 the effect that the husband had been discovered, and was 
 12 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 178 
 
 now residing with a lady in East Street, Walworth — this 
 had failed to induce anything but mild amusement. Alfred’s 
 parent, after the set-back, went out to the scene of the fire 
 to make inquiries, and ascertained that her invented account 
 was, in all but the address quoted, completely true ; other 
 particulars were supplied by neighbours, and Mrs. Plowman 
 returned for a fresh interview. 
 
 “ That’s the real place where he’s living, at the present 
 moment,” said Alfred’s mother. 
 
 “Let him go on living there,” said the woman. ct I 
 don’t want him. He’s a free gift to anybody so far as I am 
 concerned.” 
 
 “ I’m told,” added Mrs. Plowman, “ that he’s given her a 
 black eye.” 
 
 “ A black eye ? ” 
 
 “ A black eye.” 
 
 The other snatched instantly at a tweed cap, and pinned 
 it with trembling hands on her head. 
 
 “ How dare he,” she cried furiously, “ how dare he treat 
 her in a manner like that ? ” 
 
 “ Perhaps it served her right.” 
 
 “ I’m not thinking about her,” she argued violently. 
 “ I’m thinking about him. He’s no right to go blacking 
 anybody’s eyes but them of his own l^gal, married, lawful 
 wife. Go and fetch the children from school, and we’ll all 
 be on his tracks, before he forgets himself again. I’ll learn 
 him ! ” 
 
 Grace, in waiting for news from Leadenhall Street, and in 
 wondering anxiously about her husband at Bordeaux, said 
 to herself that married life was a complicated sort of 
 business. The remark, she confessed, seemed to have less 
 originality than truth. 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 I T seemed that the phrasing of Grace’s letter had put 
 Hedley on his mettle, and he had used energy and re- 
 source. On calling at Churton Street he was able to 
 supply information that the aggrieved firm, for reasons of 
 its own, did not intend to use the machinery of the law, 
 but did mean to stop Tom Bannerton from dabbling again 
 in City undertakings. If Bannerton attempted to do so, 
 the firm guaranteed that the treatment served out to a 
 jockey who, being warned off, endeavours to join in a race, 
 would be accorded to Bannerton with determination and 
 strictness. 
 
 “ So,” said Hedley, “ it amounts to this. You must keep 
 his nose to the grindstone here. Don’t let him stray south 
 of Old Street. Make it plain he has been as near to the dock 
 of the Old Bailey as anyone wishes to go. By the by, I 
 met that lady clerk who used to be in Watherston’s office.” 
 “ Although she didn’t trust him, I never thought she’d 
 leave him.” 
 
 , “ She left because he married.” 
 
 “ Who won the prize ? ” 
 
 “ He has married Tom’s mother. Which means, depend 
 I upon it, that none of her money will now come either to 
 Tom, or to you.” 
 
 “ Another load off my mind,” declared Grace. “ And 
 thank you, more than I can say, for all your kindness.” 
 The news from Hedley, being reassuring, should have 
 set her mind at rest. But the prospect of tragic happenings 
 had been so definitely in her thoughts that it did not vanish 
 with completeness, and the worst seemed to be near when a 
 stranger came into the office, and glanced around curiously. 
 Approaching the desk, where Grace sat, he spoke under 
 cover of his hand. 
 
 179 
 
180 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 “ Can I have a word with Mrs. Bannerton ? ” 
 
 “ You are speaking to her,” she 6aid. 
 
 “ Mr. Bannerton is not in, I take it ? ” 
 
 “ He’s away at present.” 
 
 “ It concerns,” said the visitor with increased mysterious- 
 ness, “ fraud.” 
 
 “ Alfred,” she said to the clerk, £C be a good lad, and take 
 these letters to the post office. They may be just in time 
 for a collection. Now, sir,” as Alfred went, “ don’t beat 
 about the bush. Tell me exactly what’s wanted.” 
 
 “ It concerns fraud,” he repeated with exasperating 
 deliberation, “ and, as a result of inquiries, I have come 
 along here. I employ a staff of eight. Supposing I had an 
 idea of insuring against any of them fooling with the cash, 
 what kind of a premium would' be charged on a guarantee 
 policy ? Roughly speaking, I mean.” These alarms were 
 luckily infrequent, but they provided some illumination on 
 the drawbacks attending a faulty career, and she made 
 a note of them in order that Tom Bannerton should be 
 similarly impressed. 
 
 But when he did return from the Bordeaux trip, it seemed 
 warnings of the kind were unnecessary. He wore a sobered, 
 reticent air ; in confidence, and after Hedley’s news had been 
 communicated, he admitted that he endured a mental strain 
 in fearing the arrival of the Butterfly telegram, and he had 
 no desire to repeat the experience. Tom Bannerton spoke 
 of the voyage, and the “continuous dread that other passen- 
 gers knew all the details of his recent slip. 
 
 “ It’s the first chance, old girl,” he mentioned seriously, 
 " I’ve had for some while of having a real think. I took 
 full advantage of the opportunity.” 
 
 ££ High time.” 
 
 “ Don’t nag at me,” he begged. 
 
 “ Most wives ” 
 
 ££ I know, I know. But you are not like most wives. 
 And I want you to realize that I’ve had a shock which I 
 shall never forget.” 
 
 “ You said something like that before,” remarked Grace. 
 
 “ There will be no occasion for me to say it again. That’s 
 a promise.” 
 
 “ Hope you’ll keep it.” 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 181 
 
 In regard to Watherston and his marriage, Tom Banner- 
 ton said that Beau Brummel was asking for trouble. Beau 
 Brummel deserved all he obtained. 
 
 It had never been easy for her to preserve austerity, 
 especially when words of penitence were endorsed by signs 
 of affection. In a few days, the two were on good terms. 
 Tom Bannerton, showing great industry, renewed his work 
 at the political club, just now inclined to languish owing to a 
 falling-off in the quality of the Sunday evening entertain- 
 ments. (“ I sh’d have laughed nearly as much,” declared one 
 member’s wife grimly in leaving, “ if I’d a gone to church ! ”). 
 In his absence, a tone of austerity had been introduced, 
 and one of his first acts was to cancel, on the grounds of 
 ambiguous wording, a notice which said, “ The Members of 
 the Council have the right to refuse admission to any lady 
 they think proper.” In this, and other ways, he earned the 
 club’s thanks. Nor at Churton Street was there any reason 
 to complain. The useful Alfred — by a new arrange- 
 ment called Mr. Plowman when there were customers in 
 the office, and Alfred valued this more than additions to 
 salary — was treated as one whose opinions had a title to 
 consideration. Tom Bannerton had an idea of opening a 
 railway and steamship ticket agency, and Alfred and Grace 
 lent assistance ; the scheme entailed much calling at 
 terminal stations and at offices, and when these happened to 
 be within the City limits, Grace often undertook the job. 
 The best part of the new essay (after the five per cent, 
 commission) came in the illustrated posters set at the win- 
 dow, and on hoardings of the neighbourhood. “ BOOK 
 AT BANNERTON’S ” they shouted, and lest you should 
 treat this casually, there was a picture of a long line of 
 travellers at a railway booking office, and, to their obvious 
 distress, the train starting to go out ; the inference was that 
 if they had taken tickets beforehand all would have been 
 well. There was too one of a ship on a deep blue ocean and 
 in the best possible weather, with voyagers so contented in 
 appearance that there could be no doubt they had purchased 
 well in advance at Churton Street. Tom Bannerton had a 
 notion of selling theatre tickets ; Grace advised caution, 
 and said she would write to her younger brother, and ask 
 him to make inquiries. Tom Bannerton recommended the 
 
182 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 purchase of a typewriting machine. Tom Bannerton 
 ascertained the cost of setting up a telephone in the office. 
 
 “ Save a lot of running about,” he mentioned. 
 
 “ Exercise does you no harm,” said Grace, “ providing 
 you don’t go to the City.” 
 
 “ I was thinking more of Mr. Plowman.” 
 
 “ Let us hear, then, what Mr. Plowman has to say.” 
 
 “ The question of expense,” said Alfred elaborately, 
 “scarcely comes within my ken. But as regards the 
 convenience I have no objection to admitting that, at my 
 age, being sent on errands is somewhat con amore ; I mean 
 to say, infra dig. I give my humble but conscientious 
 vote for the telephone.” 
 
 So the instrument was fixed, and a rubber stamp on the 
 letter paper said, “ North 212424,” and a certain discretion 
 had to be used in regard to folk who, looking in to put some 
 question, said, before going, “ Wonder if I might, now that 
 I’m here, use your telephone ? ” Grace confessed to a 
 hesitation in speaking at it, but this was overcome ; even 
 cook, from the Victoria Restaurant, after a like coyness, was 
 induced to communicate with tradesmen, and within a 
 fortnight expressed amazement that she had ever been able 
 to do without the convenient means of issuing commands. 
 Because of Tom Bannerton’s attendance at the office, Grace 
 was able to devote more time to the restaurant. The 
 Victoria started a mixed grill at two shillings as its dish of 
 the day for Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and the 
 pleasing rumour came that gentlemen walked miles in order 
 to enjoy the appetizing dish of chop, kidney, sausage, bacon. 
 Cook had, at the back of her mind, a scheme for a beefsteak 
 pudding on original and adventurous lines. 
 
 “ I’m setting my brain to work on the subject,” cook 
 mentioned. “ Later on, I may be able, dearie, to take you 
 into my confidence. Until then, mum’s the word ! ” 
 
 The great joke at the Victoria, and one that never failed 
 to go well, occurred when Tom Bannerton chanced to 
 patronize the Victoria, in company with some business 
 friend to whom Grace was unknown. If Grace waited on 
 them, no sign of recognition was by consent exchanged 
 between husband and wife ; Gladys had to retreat swiftly 
 when Grace addressed him as “ Sir,” and when Tom 
 
 / 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 183 
 
 Bannerton inquired whether Grace happened to be married. 
 At the cashier’s box, he gave the polite remarks usual with 
 customers, and expressed the hope that he might be seeing 
 her again in the course of a week or so. But on the rare 
 occasions when some light-hearted patron alluded to her as 
 Grace before meals, or attempted to engage her in frivolous 
 conversation, then Tom Bannerton glared steadily at the 
 offender, compelling him to stop talking, and to take 
 ambush behind a newspaper. 
 
 To the cashier, one day, a customer in paying whispered 
 a confidence. She bent forward to listen. 
 
 “ Do you see that tall, rather good-looking fellow over 
 there at, the far table ? Bannerton, his name is.” 
 
 “ Not really ? ” said Grace. 
 
 “ A fact. But the point is this. Do you know who it is 
 with him ? ” 
 
 “ Couldn’t tell you.” 
 
 “ I can tell you. He’s the Mayor. The Mayor of this 
 borough. For the present year. Appointed last Novem- 
 ber. A good sort enough, but, between you and me, can’t 
 talk for nuts.” 
 
 “ What a gift ! ” commented Grace. 
 
 Tom Bannerton mentioned that afternoon, when Grace 
 returned to the office, that the Mayor had submitted an 
 offer. It was, it seemed, true that the Mayor had no 
 qualifications as an orator, and moreover he recognized 
 the circumstance ; his Worship had been told by the 
 Mayoress that it was high time an improvement was 
 effected, and as it would be risky to call in aid from the 
 staff at the Town Hall, a proposal had been made. If Mr. 
 Bannerton prepared short sprightly addresses, as the 
 demand came, which could be read out with ease, the Mayor 
 felt disposed to repay for the services by appointing 
 Bannerton to a recently created post in the borough that 
 would bring in perhaps more kudo^ than money, but might 
 lead to greater things. 
 
 “ You said ‘ Yes ’ ? ” remarked Grace. 
 
 “ Told him I’d think it over.” 
 
 “ You’ll write at once and accept.” 
 
 “ Despot ! ” he protested, good-humouredly. 
 
 “ There’s no one else to crack the whip,” said Grace. 
 
184 BANNEKTON’S AGENCY 
 
 “ Do as I order. I want to see you as a man of importance 
 about here.” 
 
 Thus one of the exhilarating incidents at Churton Street 
 came in when Mr. Mayor telephoned, of a morning, particu- 
 lars of his engagements for the day, and Tom Bannerton, 
 walking up and down the office, recited the few appropriate 
 words which Grace took down in an abbreviated longhand 
 of her own, or were noted in shorthand by Alfred, who was 
 under the bonds of secrecy. Typed slips were called for by 
 a special messenger, and the Bannertons took a new interest 
 in the reports of proceedings given in the local journal, 
 under the headings of “ Our Statesman-like Mayor,” or 
 “ Mirth-Provoking Speech by the Mayor,” or “ The Mayor’s 
 Eloquent Appeal.” In the same papers could be found 
 allusions to the new berth. “ It is particularly requested 
 that all communications be addressed to Thomas Bannerton, 
 Esq., 17, Churton Street.” Tom, on his wife’s recom- 
 mendation, joined a lodge of Freemasons. She had as- 
 certained that many of the local officials were members, 
 and a sister of one informed her that much was discussed, 
 and at times settled there, before the light of publicity was 
 switched on. 
 
 Alfred Plowman, hitherto willing to stay and make 
 overtime, threw out hints of the need for an addition to the 
 staff. 
 
 “ For reasons, ma’am,” he said, “ into which I prefer not 
 to enter, I want my evenings at my free disposal.” 
 
 “ Classes ? ” 
 
 “Them,” confessed Alfred, “and, to be frank, also a 
 desire for the companionship of the fair sex.” 
 
 : “ If I were you,” suggested Grace, in a maternal way, “ F 
 should look for somebody of a different class from Gladys. ”, 
 
 “ I have. And not without a certain amount of success. 
 My show of affection for that young person was more in the 
 nature of elementary study than anything else. The one 
 I’ve got in tow at the present moment would never dream of 
 allowing me to kiss her until we became formally engaged.” 
 
 “ Wise girl ! ” commented Grace. “ But about a new 
 clerk. Let us both keep our eyes open. I suppose you 
 favour the appointment of a junior ? ” 
 
BANNEKTON’S AGENCY 185 
 
 “ Immaterial to me,” said Alfred, “ so long as he takes a 
 fair share of the work here.” 
 
 It proved fortunate that the lad had given expression to 
 this view of the open mind. Kate came along from Rydon 
 Crescent one evening, breathless with hurry and with 
 agitation, to report that father appeared to be out of sorts, 
 and was asking for his Grade ; he declined to take the 
 medicine which Kate had obtained at a chemist’s near The 
 Angel, and would not listen to the recommendation that he 
 should call on a doctor of Myddleton Square. Grace 
 hastened to the Crescent with her sister, and discovered 
 that her father had locked himself in his room ; only on 
 hearing her voice did he get out of bed and turn the key. 
 Mr. Lennard protested against the fuss which was being 
 made. Surely a man of his age could have a slight indis- 
 position without this palaver and excitement ! All he 
 required was to be left to himself. If folk would but leave 
 him alone, his recovery was bound to be speedy. Upon 
 Kate (whom he alluded to as a mere slip of a girl) he felt 
 inclined to place no reliance. 
 
 “ Hester and I,” said Grace promptly, “ must see to you, 
 father. Hester can come here at once.” 
 
 “ She’s been,” said Mr. Lennard. “ And it’s her news 
 that’s done more to upset me than anything else. For 
 some reason or other, I’ve never had no trouble with my 
 children. They’ve all done well at their schooling, and they 
 ain’t done so badly afterwards. And now Hester comes 
 here, expecting me to help her, and because I can’t, she 
 
 carried on like — like . I don’t know anything,” he 
 
 said helplessly, “ that she can be likened to.” 
 
 “ Money wanted ? ” 
 
 “ In a sense, yes. Her husband has been jerked out of 
 his situation, and they’ve got nothing much to live upon.” 
 
 “ Why on earth,” demanded Grace, “ didn’t she come to 
 me ? ” 
 
 “ There was a trifle owing to you.” 
 
 “ As though that mattered ! Thirty-five pounds isn’t 
 enough to keep relatives apart.” 
 
 “ Is it. at all possible you could find him something, my 
 dear ? ” 
 
 “ It’s probable.” 
 
186 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 Mr. Lennard asserted that Grace’s visit had for him 
 a higher value than any of your chemist’s muck in bottles, 
 and gave a promise that he would now make a resolute 
 endeavour to obtain sleep. Grace said he must clearly 
 understand he had to get well ; the reply was that he did 
 not feel particularly eager about it, either one way or 
 another. “ My motto is to take everything as it comes,” 
 he remarked, “ and it’s served me fairly well. Considering. 
 Good-bye, my dear, and bless you.” She kissed him 
 affectionately, called him an old scrubby face, and was 
 going, when he called to her. “ Never so much as a mis- 
 word, you and me. Same with your mother and meself. 
 Pleasant to look back on.” And again as she was at the 
 door. “ No occasion for nobody to worry. I’m safe for 
 another ten years yet. Bless you once more, Gracie v my 
 dear. Hope God’ll always be good to you. I’m going to 
 have a fine sleep now.” 
 
 From this sleep Mr. Lennard does not awake, and Mrs. 
 Price, a conspicuous woman in the house for some days, 
 felicitates herself on the admirable ordering of events. She 
 was, she says, debating in her mind — “ Shall I take my 
 boots off, or shan’t I ? ” — when the knock came to her 
 door, and she was summoned to Rydon Crescent. Mrs. 
 Priee, in the endeavour to cheer every one up, speaks of the 
 numerous folk of a certain age who, being met, never fail to 
 give the reminder that it is she and no one else who is to 
 be charged with the task of laying them out. At moments 
 when she can obtain a listener in the hushed, tearful house, 
 Mrs. Price alludes to births, marriages and deaths as the 
 most notable events, and offers the exultant claim that she 
 is equally handy at all of them, but makes no concealment 
 of her own preference. For, says Mrs. Priee, when there is 
 a funeral about, no matter where it may be, there is never 
 a question by the family of stinting money ; also, under- 
 takers, if they know you and recognize your opportunities of 
 saying a^ favourable word, are free with their half-crowns 
 here and half-crowns there, looking on the sums as well and 
 usefully disbursed. As to the matter of general expenses, 
 Robert declares his willingness to take a share, and Edmund 
 sends a telegram ordering that the total sum is to be placed 
 to his debit, but, the announcements made, neither says 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 187 
 
 anything further on the subject, and when, on the day of 
 the funeral, Grace mentions that she and Tom Bannerton 
 are willing to settle all accounts, the two brothers say 
 promptly, in duet : 
 
 “ Oh, well, if you insist, of course, let it be so ! ” 
 
 This is at a family council, held on the return from the 
 cemetery, and Tom Bannerton and Hester’s husband 
 absent themselves from the conference in order to talk 
 business. In the front room at Rydon Crescent, Robert 
 takes the chair, but he might as well be under the table for 
 any assistance he gives to the proceedings ; Grace is the one 
 who reviews the situation, and tenders advice, and, in doing 
 so, manages to relieve the others from anxiety. Her 
 statement concerning finance, already referred to, does 
 much in this direction. Edmund, greatly chastened by the 
 funeral ceremony, expresses a fear that the governor may, 
 in the last hours, have held a suspicion that his younger son 
 had shown neglect ; Grace is able to declare that father 
 gave no hint at this. Kate, handkerchief still at eyes, 
 begs the company to guess at her future. “ What’s to 
 become of me, I should like to know ? I’m the only one 
 without a home.” Grace says that Churton Street is 
 prepared to welcome Kate until the girl makes arrangements 
 for herself ; Grace will be glad of her younger sister’s 
 company. As to the furniture, any one who wants any 
 particular article can take it ; the rest will be taken away 
 and sold at auction rooms. The two lodgers have received 
 notice to quit. The landlord has reported that a new 
 tenant is ready to enter. 
 
 “ That,” says Hester, from her corner of the table, “is 
 all very well so far as it goes, and I’ve no wish to interfere, 
 but I think I ought to point out that my husband and my- 
 self are really in a corner. We don’t know which way to 
 turn. There’s nothing — practically nothing — coming in, 
 and,” sobbing, “ nobody seems to pay the slightest attention. 
 Of course,” to Grace, “ people who have no worries of their 
 own, imagine that worries don’t exist. I told poor father, 
 but even he ” 
 
 “ You shouldn’t have told him,” argues Grace spiritedly. 
 “You ought to have come to me. But I can mention now 
 that my husband is arranging for your husband to come into 
 
mm 
 
 188 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 the office at Churton Street, and, if terms are settled, he will 
 begin earning a salary to-morrow morning.” 
 
 “ Better than nothing,” Hester admits grudgingly. 
 
 Edmund makes application to be excused for running off 
 on account of innumerable engagements up West ; Grace, 
 before according permission, delivers a short but plainly 
 worded announcement to the group. Rydon Crescent no 
 longer exists as a meeting-place, but they are to remember 
 that she is always to be found at Seventeen, Churton Street. 
 The Lennards, whether married or single, must not lose 
 sight of each other. Family ties have to be reckoned 
 stronger than those of mere acquaintance. Grace asks 
 everybody to make a promise to keep in touch, and, at the 
 least, to write frequently. 
 
 “ I think,” says Edmund, in going, and speaking with 
 emphasis, “ that we are, each one of us, absolutely agreed 
 upon that ! ” 
 
 Robert had selected an auctioneer — well known to him 
 as a fellow-critic of public men, and, in Robert's view, one of 
 our clearest and soundest thinkers — and the statement was 
 made that everything in connection with the disposal of 
 household goods at Rydon Crescent might be left, in his 
 hands. All the family had to do was to stand aside and, 
 eventually, to accept, a cheque. Grace' decided that 
 nothing ought to be left to chance, and took the opportunity 
 of speaking to the lodgers. The two young men were 
 living at a small hotel in Little Britain, endeavouring to 
 recover from the dazed state into which the sudden eviction 
 had thrown them ; they had apparently convinced them- 
 selves that no other rooms of a suitable nature were to be 
 found inside the metropolitan district, and they were 
 looking for a house. This secured, they intended to make a 
 resolute search for two ladies willing to become partners 
 and wives. 
 
 “ You will need furniture,” said Grace. They assured 
 her -this detail had not been overlooked. It, in fact, took 
 the second place in their programme. “ You had better 
 come to the sale at Rydon Crescent, and pick up some 
 bargains.” They said, business permitting, they would be 
 there. “ And bring friends,” she added. 
 
BANNEKTON’S AGENCY 
 
 189 
 
 Ladies, met on various occasions at the club, readily 
 agreed to put off other engagements, and to attend the 
 auction ; one happened to be an expert, never more at home 
 % than at affairs of the kind, and well up to all the tricks of 
 the gentlemen who combined to keep prices down. These 
 ladies were invited to a meal at the Victoria on the day : 
 Grace thus borrowing a device of society hostesses when 
 securing the presence of folk at a dance. At Kydon Cres- 
 cent they found that the auctioneer — desirous possibly of 
 returning early to the study of larger questions — had made 
 a beginning ahead of time, and articles were being 
 knocked down to regular attendants at sales. 
 
 “ Twenty-three shillings bid,” the auctioneer was saying 
 casually as Grace and her friends took up position in various 
 quarters of the room, “ for this very handsome mahogany 
 sideboard. Twenty-three shillings. No advance on one 
 pound three ? ” 
 
 “ Twenty-five,” rapped out the lady expert. 
 
 The auctioneer allowed his features to betray astonish- 
 ment, mingled with pain, but he went on. “ Twenty-five 
 shillings bid ; any advance on twenty-five ? Going for 
 twenty-five.” 
 
 “ Twenty-six,” said one of the regulars. 
 
 “ Thirty,” said the lady expert. 
 
 “ Forty,” said Grace. 
 
 “ We have,” said the auctioneer, raising his hammer, as 
 one intending to close the competition, “ two pounds bid 
 for this very handsome mahogany sideboard. (Jim, let the 
 party gaze at it if she wants to. Let her smell it, if she 
 wishes to).” 
 
 “ Forty-five,” said the lady expert. 
 
 “ Fifty,” said Grace. 
 
 “ Sixty,” said another. 
 
 The regular went forward and opened the doors of the 
 article ; sent them to with an air of finality. “ Three 
 guineas,” he announced, “ and I wish I may die if it’s 
 worth it ! ” 
 
 “ Three pounds ten,” said the lady expert. 
 
 “ Four pounds,” said Grace. 
 
 The auctioneer’s hammer had nearly descended when the 
 regular ejaculated, under the stress of deep emotion, 
 
190 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 “ Guineas/* and the room allowed the ofier to be taken. 
 From this point, matters assumed a livelier aspect. The 
 two young men from Wood Street arrived, and carried 
 away by enthusiasm, found themselves, in connection with a 
 bookcase, bidding against each other. Some of the regulars 
 left with every indication of annoyance and resentment ; 
 their places were taken by folk living in the Crescent who, 
 entering with audible statements to the effect that they had 
 no intention of buying anything — “ Not class enough ! ” — 
 presently found themselves drawn into the game, and 
 becoming flushed and tense with the excitement of it. 
 With the larger figures obtained, the auctioneer discarded 
 some of his boredom, and entered into the spirit of the 
 contest with vigour, calling up all his reserve powers of 
 eloquent description, and sometimes using a break in the 
 voice when any article had to go at less than its real value. 
 Grace, now content to look on, found that the superstitions 
 of her youth were being exploded. There had always been 
 a fixed idea that the lustres which crowded mantelpieces 
 were of little value ; it appeared that lustres were now ill 
 demand, and one or two Jewish women wanted nothing else, 
 and wanted these acutely. There was a bust of Clytie, 
 highly spoken of by Mr. Lennard as a work of art with an 
 unknown but considerable value ; it was disposed of for 
 three and sixpence to a gentleman who mentioned that if 
 it did not stand the rain, then his money was wasted. 
 
 The share-out of the proceeds took place a month later. 
 
 “ Fairly satisfactory/* said Robert. “ I told you we 
 were safe in leaving everything in the hands of my 
 auctioneer friend ! ” 
 
 New tasks come to the office in Churton Street, giving 
 themselves up as though recognizing that further conceal- 
 ment is useless, and ousting some which are no longer 
 required. Thus, at the Victoria Restaurant, the young 
 cashier from her box cannot avoid overhearing a discussion 
 between customers on a subject so absorbing that it almost 
 makes them forget the dishes ; in the course of the argu- 
 ment, they pencil figures on table cloth ; they produce from 
 breast pockets large and crowded envelopes ; they declare a 
 willingness to pay all that is right and just and fair, but 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 191 
 
 \ 
 
 admit a profound objection to anything like swindling on 
 the part of the authorities. Some of the particulars are 
 confused and involved, and Grace Bannerton does not 
 pretend to be able to follow them ; even the disputants 
 themselves seem to enter, at times, a dense fog and to lose 
 their way, and to be looking around wistfully for a 
 guide. 
 
 “ There are chaps,” says one, “ so I’ve been given ,to 
 understand, who make a study of this Income Tax business. 
 They get to know all the ins and outs, and they can give 
 advice.” 
 
 “ Advice that’s given away is seldom of any value.” 
 
 “ They make a certain charge. A small fee probably, 
 and a per centage on the savings.” The discussion is taken 
 up afresh, and Grace obtains the impression that the Income 
 Tax is a correct tax and a justifiable tax, but is something 
 which, in everybody’s view, should be paid by other 
 people. To Tom Bannerton that evening, Grace mentions 
 the topic, and the expected reply, to the effect that our 
 hands are full enough already, comes in due course. Later, 
 Grace’s husband admits that he has some acquaintance 
 with the subject, and, if necessary, can obtain more, and 
 eventually a fresh notice goes up in the office. 
 
 “ Why pay Excessive Taxes ? Get advice at Bannerton’s 
 Agency. Do it at once ! ” 
 
 The job of rent collecting happens in a directer fashion. 
 Two elderly sisters approach Grace at Number Seventeen, 
 and ask if she has three seconds to spare, and thereupon 
 enter on an autobiographical statement that includes 
 elaborate references to an ancestor who, in the most 
 thoughtless way, built houses and showed additional 
 carelessness by leaving the, property to the two ladies. 
 
 “|And we reside at Twickenham,” they wail piteously, 
 “ and you have no idea what a journey it is to undertake. 
 We dread it. We look forward to it with absolute terror.” 
 
 “ Weekly tenants ? ” 
 
 “ Weekly tenants,” they agree, “ and unless the rents are 
 collected promptly, there is a risk that they won’t be 
 collected at all. And as to repairs ” 
 
 “ You ought, ’’ says Grace, “ to get some one living in the 
 district to take charge of the job. Some one who can keep 
 
192 BANNEKTON’S AGENCY 
 
 an eye on the property, and who is aquainted with the local 
 builder. 5 ’ 
 
 “ We have looked in here,” they admit, “ for the very 
 purpose of ascertaining if you can recommend anybody. 
 Or perhaps see to it yourself.” 
 
 The securing of rents proves to be an occupation that 
 fills in spaces of time which might otherwise be empty; 
 another advantage is that it can be carried on without 
 making any appeal to Tom Bannerton for assistance. The 
 work would be done more briskly only that tenants, having 
 paid the sums due, expect a certain amount of listening, 
 and if there are no grievances to recite concerning the house, 
 they talk of other matters, such as the deportment of 
 husbands, behaviour of children, methods of relatives, or a 
 neighbour who commits the unpardonable sin of over- 
 dressing herself. 
 
 The taking charge of tradesmen’s books is Mr. Limps- 
 field’s idea. Mr. Limpsfield mentions that he and Hester 
 have often remarked that inspirations seldom come his way, 
 but when they do arrive, they prove of astonishing value. 
 
 “ I may not get another,” he says warningly, “ for quite 
 a long time ! ” 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 ^jjT^HE Mayor was as good as liis word, and better. In 
 ' the phrase of the borough, he took a fancy to Tom 
 Bannerton, and the stage was passed when folk said, 
 “ Who is Bannerton ? 55 amending this by the inquiry, 
 “ How is Bannerton ? 5 5 The political agent of the party 
 to which the Mayor belonged resigned on wedding a lady 
 with shares in a cinema, and everywhere — at local clubs, at 
 Masonic dinners, in saloon bars (of high respectability with 
 notices ordering that no lady would be supplied with 
 refreshments unless accompanied by a gentleman), during 
 the walk home from churches and chapels on Sunday 
 mornings, and at entrances to shops on any day of the week 
 — everywhere the matter was discussed ; names were 
 submitted and some withdrawn, and others allowed to 
 remain ; an important group argued in favour of keeping 
 out a stranger, and of giving the job to a resident. # The 
 Mayor, appealed to for unofficial counsel before the meeting 
 at which a decision was to be made, encouraged the sub- 
 mission of plenty of names, and, for himself, declared a 
 resolve of bringing an open mind to the task of selection. 
 
 “ Let us,” urged the Mayor privately, with the eloquence 
 that, on the platform, deserted him, “ be straightforward. 
 Don’t let us have any underhand tricks. Let us do all we 
 can, individually and collectively, to secure the right chap. 
 Let us pull together with that aim, and that aim only in 
 view.” 
 
 At the meeting, consideration was given to the subject by 
 members of the party, with the Mayor as impartial chair- 
 man. He recommended that the nominations should be 
 dealt with in alphabetical order, and, as many present had 
 an engagement at the Town Hall in a quarter of an hour’s 
 13 193 
 
194 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 time, lie suggested that they should content themselves by 
 voting, and refrain from discussion. The Mayor brought 
 up first the name of Mr. Thomas Bannerton, of Churton 
 Street. All in favour, kindly signify the same in the usual 
 way. Thank you, carried. 
 
 “ But oughtn’t we,” asked the L.C.C. representative, 
 
 with his worried air, “ to make some investigations into . 
 
 What I mean to say is there are many of us who are not 
 acquainted with the chap in question. For all we know, 
 there may be something in his record. 
 
 The Mayor took a lofty attitude. Was it probable, he 
 demanded severely, that he would tender the name of a 
 candidate unless he had already made the necessary 
 inquiries, and had satisfied himself in the completest 
 manner ? Eh, what ? He appealed to those present who 
 had watched his career, and he ventured to ask them if any 
 action of his justified the innuendo contained in the L.C.C. 
 man’s remarks. The other disclaimed any desire to give 
 offence. He was sorry if his words were open to such an 
 interpretation. He held the Mayor in great regard. At 
 the same time 
 
 “ Withdraw, withdraw ! ” growled the Mayor’s set. 
 
 The L.C.C. man having counted the total number of 
 those opposed to him, begged to withdraw, and, if needful, 
 to apologize, and, inferentially, to cringe. The Mayor said, 
 handsomely, that the incident so far as he was concerned 
 might be considered at an end, and inquired whether he 
 could give any one a lift in his car. Eh, what ? 
 
 To Churton Street, the news was promptly communicated 
 by telephone, and Grace, in the rush downstairs from the 
 supper table to answer the call, beat Kate by a length, with 
 Tom left on the half landing. He listened to the message, 
 repeated to him for the sake of accuracy, and called out an 
 instruction, but Grace ignored this, and said genially, 
 “.Thank you very much, Mr. Mayor. My husband will, of 
 course, be delighted to accept. The Mayoress quite well, I 
 hope ? That’s good ! ” On the return upstairs, a warm 
 discussion took place. 
 
 “ This will mean registration work, and goodness knows 
 what.” 
 
 “ It will keep you out of mischief.” 
 
BANNEETON’S AGENCY 195 
 
 “ Perhaps I don’t want to be kept entirely out of mis- 
 chief.” 
 
 “ The busier you are the happier you will be,” said Grace. 
 “ And the money will be useful. We shall need it more 
 now than ever. Let us clear the table, and have a game of 
 whist.” 
 
 Kate as a resident at Number Seventeen, behaved 
 adroitly and well during arguments of the kind ; aside 
 she admitted that to watch Grace’s tricks of management 
 provided a generous education ; she hoped to take advan- 
 tage of the lessons in due course. There were many con- 
 fidential talks between the sisters at this time, and Kate 
 said, in regard to one announcement, “ Well, it can’t be 
 helped ! ” and took the duty of booking in advance the 
 services of a nurse well recommended by matrons who came 
 to the office on the track of servants. Cook, at the Victoria, 
 being similarly honoured with early and exclusive infor- 
 mation, declared it a rare good piece of news, but could not 
 at present see how the Victoria was going to exist, for even 
 a month or so, without Grace’s help. 
 
 “We are none of us indispensable,” said Grace. 
 
 “ Don’t know so much about that,” mentioned cook 
 anxiously. “ I’ve got into the ’abit, lovey, of relying on 
 you.” 
 
 The restaurant, in view of all the circumstances, deter- 
 mined on a quick change that had often been the subject of 
 grave contemplation. There ensued two or three days of 
 partial derangement, with a board advertising the fact that 
 the alterations were under the control of an eminent firm of 
 shopfitters of Gray’s Inn Eoad, and workmen, so industrious 
 that they require no spur or whip from either cook, Gladys 
 or Grace, managed a transformation scene which gained 
 from the neighbourhood the ejaculations that in earlier 
 days had been offered to the final act in pantomime at the 
 local theatre. Some critics argued that the new front did 
 not look so home-like as the old, but homes, as Grace pointed 
 out, differed ; a few thought oak more appropriate than 
 mahogany, and Grace hinted that had oak been selected, 
 their comments would probably be reversed. She had not, 
 she declared, set out with the intention of pleasing every- 
 body. Certainly, the altered features of the Victoria 
 
196 
 
 BANNERTON'S AGENCY 
 
 suggested austerity, and disclosed good taste ; for some 
 days customers at the tables within spoke in low voices, and 
 endeavoured to model their deportment on the new sur- 
 roundings. A new brass frame that proclaimed, incident- 
 ally, the virtues of a mineral water, held, near the entrance, 
 the menu for the day, and nothing in the shape of patterns 
 or samples of food appeared in the discreet windows. You 
 could assume that the Victoria Restahrant, whilst ready to 
 accept your patronage, had no desire to crave for it. 
 
 To the Victoria came one day, rather late for the midday 
 meal, Robert, once, in the long ago, imperious commander 
 of the Lennard family, later a temporary autocrat at Crouch 
 End, and now chastened, subdued, deferential. It seemed 
 clear to Grace that her elder brother had a favour to ask ; 
 as he took his food, he studied documents and made notes 
 with a pencil, and now ancjL again stared thoughtfully at 
 the ceiling. 
 
 “ Got half a second to spare, I wonder ? ” he asked 
 presently. Grace, promising a whole second, sat beside 
 him. “ You ought to give this up, you know. With your 
 husband holding the positions he does, seems to me scarcely 
 dignified for you to be half cashier, half waitress in a place 
 like this. Of course, it’s no business of mine.” 
 
 “ It’s partly a business of mine. Is this what you wished 
 to speak to me about, Robert ? ” 
 
 “ That,” he said, “ was only by the way. I want to 
 bespeak your interest, Grace. I want you to put all your 
 weight on my side. There’s a chance for me to move up 
 at the Council offices, but it’s a chance that is also open to 
 others, and I need all the influence I can get.” 
 
 “ We must see if anything can be done,” said Grace 
 promptly. 
 
 “ It’s more than common urgent,” he went on. “ My 
 young lady is going to give me the sack unless my salary 
 improves.” 
 
 “ Is that the kind of girl she is ? ” 
 
 “ Don’t look upon her as mercenary,” begged Robert. 
 “ But she’s got a strong and a clearly defined regard for the 
 value of money. And looked at from the broad and com- 
 mon-sense point of view ” 
 
 “ Like old times to hear you saying that again.” 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 197 
 
 “ — All one’s efforts should be bent in that direction. I 
 don’t wish to conceal the fact, Grade, that I shall feel very 
 much indebted for anything you can do in the shape of help. 
 Perhaps you remember an occasion when I spoke, in a 
 somewhat derisive way, of influence.” 
 
 “ I remember several. You were never content with 
 saying anything just once.” 
 
 “ We live and learn,” declared Robert stolidly. “ That 
 is to say, those of us who possess more than average intelli- 
 gence. Now, let me glance at my notes and tell you 
 exactly and precisely the steps I wish you to take. The 
 affair wants dexterous management.” 
 
 “ Better leave it all to me,” said Grace. “ I’m getting 
 quite accustomed to pulling wires. I know where they are, 
 and I know how to pull them.” 
 
 A project which scarcely realized to the full the intentions 
 of its originators was Grace Bannerton’s holiday. The idea 
 came first to Kate, who, knowing the difficulties likely to 
 be met in the carrying out of the scheme, stepped warily, 
 made her way softly. At the Victoria, in private conference 
 with the stout lady of the establishment, Kate received 
 the assurance that a like proposal had been forming in 
 cook’s mind ; as a consequence, hearty support would be 
 furnished. Cook agreed that a month was the briefest 
 period which could be thought of, and suggested the country ; 
 not the seaside. At sea-coast towns, there was too much 
 to do, and in her opinion the holiday would be of little use 
 unless Grace were compelled to do nothing. Kate, as 
 companion on the trip, guaranteed that this should be 
 borne in mind, and sketched out a leisurely time table, 
 with sauntering through leafy lanes of a morning, and rest 
 in a summer house during the afternoon, with, for the later 
 hours, nothing more energetic than a game of clock golf. 
 Cook was as sure as Kate had been that the utmost caution 
 would be necessary ; she submitted a plan to which Kate 
 gave approval. As a result, Grace found, to her astonish- 
 ment, that nearly every regular customer (having been 
 secretly coached and trained) in approaching the desk to 
 pay for food gave a short gasp, and cried : 
 
 “ Mrs. Bannerton, you are not looking yourself.” 
 
198 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 “ Any change may be reckoned an improvemeiff.’’ 
 
 “ What I mean to say is , 55 explained each customer, 
 “ you’re off colour. You want fresh air. You ought to 
 get away somewhere, and lead the simple life for a while.” 
 At the sixth repetition of the advice — cook had perhaps 
 shown over anxiety in banding together so many con- 
 spirators — Grace said candidly that London had always 
 been good enough for her, and she preferred to be on her 
 native heath. She felt no craving for any other. Cook’s 
 niece, with the best will in the world, stepped beyond the 
 mark in alluding enthusiastically to the attractions of the 
 country and the health-giving qualities to be fouhd there ; 
 Grace took her aside and said that if the girl really wished to 
 leave town, and take up residence elsewhere, she felt willing 
 to do her best to help in every possible way. 
 
 “ For the Lord’s sake, no,” cried the girl alarmedly, “ I 
 wasn’t thinking of myself. It was other people I’d got in 
 my mind.” 
 
 “ What other people.” 
 
 “ Oh,” said cook’s niece vaguely, “ any other people.” 
 
 “ Don’t worry your head about them. A mistake to 
 shoulder troubles that don’t belong to you.” 
 
 Suspicion that a plot was afoot became confirmed when 
 at a Mammoth Concert (with Informal Dance to follow) all 
 the ladies to whom Kate spoke came up afterwards to 
 Grace with heads at a sympathetic angle, and began to 
 express deep concern, and to make identical recommen- 
 dations. To some Grace admitted that she had one foot in 
 the grave ; to some she gave a cheery assurance that her 
 health had reached the stage of perfection. The men were 
 more successful with Tom Bannerton. At the third hint 
 from them, he went across, and begged Grace to allow her 
 sister to take her home. “ My own opinion is,” he added, 
 “ that you ought, dear girl, to be taking a holiday.” That 
 night, at Churton Street, the three discussed the matter, 
 and in the end Grace carried an amendment to the original 
 resolution. The holiday was to last for two weeks only. 
 
 There ensued a speeding up of work in the office, and 
 Alfred Plowman was instructed by Grace in the procedure 
 to be adopted concerning a hundred and one details, in her 
 absence. From a handy book issued by one of the railway 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 199 
 
 companies an entry was selected, and a communication 
 written by Grace to the tenant of the farm-house in question ; 
 Kate inspected the note and offered to post it, but Grace 
 had a desire herself to take charge of this duty. For three 
 or four days she bewailed the circumstance that no answer 
 had arrived. Kate announced a resolve to take advantage 
 of the telegraphic system, and to pre-pay for the reply ; 
 Grace said this was a sound notion and that she would act 
 upon it. Later, she reported that the farm-house people 
 had wired that the rooms were vacant for but one week. 
 
 “ Try one of the others,” urged Tom Bannerton. 
 
 “ I’ve rather set my thoughts on this place.” 
 
 “ But a week,” contended Kate, “ is such a little time. 
 Scarcely long enough to do you any good.” 
 
 “ It will seem long enough,” she remarked. “ And if it 
 suits, perhaps we can induce the people to let us stay on. 
 Anyway, leave it all to me.” She assisted Kate in the 
 making of preparatory arrangements, checking some 
 venturesome outlay in regard to dress ; the opportunity 
 would be a good one, she argued, for the wearing of garments 
 already worn. The departure from Churton Street was 
 fixed to take place on the Saturday afternoon, and an 
 admirable train was selected from the A.B.C. “ Have we,” 
 asked Kate, earnestly, on the Friday night, “ have we 
 forgotten anything ? ” Grace declared that nothing had 
 been overlooked. 
 
 It was on the Saturday morning that mishaps began to 
 occur. Alfred Plowman, describing himself as no believer 
 in omens, exhibited little perturbation when Grace after 
 dropping and breaking a small looking-glass, followed up 
 this disaster by placing a stamp upside down on an en 7 
 velope ; Alfred said there was really nothing in these 
 incidents excepting to the superstitious. Kate mentioned 
 that her sister had, at breakfast, knocked over a salt cellar, 
 and obstinately declined to blind the fates by throwing a 
 pinch of the salt over her shoulder. Grace went out to 
 call at the post office, and despite cautioning screams, 
 walked under a ladder that workmen had set against the 
 tobacconist’s shop. “Now that,” said Alfred, with an 
 anxious countenance, “ that I admit is an unlucky thing to 
 do. Hope it doesn’t mean, Miss Lennard, that she’s in for 
 
200 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 a railway accident 'At noon, Grace said she would verify 
 the reference to the train, and this done, announced that, 
 by her own blunder and nobody else’s, she had chosen one 
 which ran on every weekday bar Saturday. This meant 
 the taking of a later and a slower train, and a three miles 
 walk in the dark. 
 
 “ Supposing it rains,” wailed Kate. 
 
 A telegram arrived, and provided general relief. It 
 said a fire had occurred, in the night, destroying the farm- 
 house from roof to floor. “ Stop visit ! ” No one but 
 Alfred observed that the wire had been handed in at a 
 neighbouring post office, and Alfred said nothing ; ab his 
 home, he mentioned to his parent that Mrs. Bannerton 
 was a wonderful lady for getting her own way. Grace 
 announced that, to atone for the disappointment, there 
 would be, on the morrow, a picnic in Highgate Wood, and 
 her husband said that it was to be clearly understood that 
 the country holiday was not cancelled, but only post- 
 poned. 
 
 At Highgate, near the end of a jolly afternoon, with Tom 
 Bannerton at his best, and Grace enjoying the content that 
 triumphant strategy brings, Kate was so fortunate as to 
 meet two desirable youths engaged in the counting-house 
 of the Friday Street warehouse to which she gave her 
 services. They were polite, attentive and admiring, and 
 Kate, from that moment, relinquished her scheme for a 
 prolonged vacation.. She mentioned subsequently, when 
 the topic was alluded to by her sister, that she really could 
 not afford just now to go away from town. 
 
 “ And perhaps,” added Kate, “ it’s as well for you to 
 keep as quiet as you can. Try to believe that every- 
 thing’s happening for the best.” 
 
 A governing b.ody was formed, made up of Kate, cook, 
 Aunt Eliza, Miss Dunbar and Lady Ferrars, and its duties 
 — not formally set out, but clearly understood — were the 
 care and protection of Grace Bannerton, and the keeping 
 up of Grace Bannerton’s spirits. Each member of the 
 committee thought, at the start, that one member was 
 sufficient to make a quorum ; if more than one attended, 
 signs of irritation were exhibited. As the weeks went on, a 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 201 
 
 rota was by consent drawn up, but Lady Ferrars did not 
 feel bound by this, and when her car arrived at Churton 
 Street, then Grace had to put away any occupation on 
 which she might Ipe engaged, and apparel herself for taking 
 the air. At her special request, the trips were taken, not in 
 outer London as the owner of the car recommended, but in 
 the shopping districts where progress had to be slow, but 
 the surroundings were entertaining. Lady Ferrars, a high 
 authority on most topics, spoke with force during the 
 journey on the subject of management and training of 
 babes, but not more instructively than Aunt Eliza when 
 that admirable relative escaped from the Crown. and Anchor 
 in order to take Grace for a gentle walk ; not more deter- 
 minedly than cook in spare moments at the Victoria. 
 Differing on many points, they agree in declaring that 
 Grace must keep her spirits up. With all these advisers 
 Grace might have become flustered, but that she relied on 
 the printed word in a volume compiled by Pye Henry 
 Chavasse, F.R.C.S. ; her great anxiety concerned the 
 office. Here Kate promised to become, during Grace’s 
 enforced absence, a faithful and an accurate reporter. 
 
 “ I guarantee,” said Kate, “ that you hear, day by day, 
 whilst you are upstairs, all there is to hear about. I shan’t 
 rely on T.B. I shall inquire of Alfred, and of Hester’s 
 husband, and whatever they tell me will be passed on to 
 you. That I swear. Now can you give me your word, 
 dear, that you won’t bother your mind any further ? ” 
 
 “ They’re bound to miss me.” 
 
 “ Don’t you be so conceited,” urged Kate good teniperedly. 
 “ And meanwhile, do keep your spirits up.” 
 
 Cook was in favour of lengthened rests on a sofa, but the 
 theorists who counselled exercise had a majority, and 
 Aunt Eliza and Grace were met one day in their walk, by 
 Robert, who, in elaborate phrases, conveyed gratitude for 
 help received. To Grace’s suggestion that his marriage 
 would now take place, Robert answered that his young 
 lady, on hearing of the increase in salary, had announced 
 that, in her opinion, every man should become well 
 acquainted with at least one language other than his own. 
 So Robert, to gain the standard fixed by the exacting young 
 woman, was trying to decide whether to attack France, or 
 
202 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 to invade Germany, or to conquer Spain, and Grace advised 
 him to hurry up, and gain a victory over tongues ere 
 Henrietta discovered yet another fault in him. The en- 
 counter was satisfactory enough, and certainly pleasanter 
 to retain in the memory than a later experience which 
 arrived when the same escort took her by motor omnibus 
 to Oxford Street to make purchases of an economical nature. 
 Near Peter Robinson’s establishment, Grace caught sight 
 of her younger brother ; he was talking to two smartly 
 dressed young women. Grace and Aunt Eliza approached 
 in order to obtain his attention so soon as he was disengaged. 
 Edmund, turning, looked at them, and without any sign of 
 recognition, hailed a taxicab, and followed his companions 
 into it. Grace and her aunt expected a wave of salutation 
 as the cab went by, but this did not come. 
 
 “ The young cub ! ” ejaculated Aunt Eliza indignantly. 
 “ And to think of the threepenny bits I used to give him 
 when he was a little boy ! I’d give him something very 
 different now, if I had half a chance. Forget it, Grade, 
 and don’t let the incident prevent you from keeping your 
 spirits up.” 
 
 A very young gentleman at Churton Street, alluded to in 
 the office below as Our New Lodger, received, when he was 
 but a week old, a present from Aunt Eliza which it is to be 
 assumed was never meant for his own consumption, but 
 rather for the entertainment of relatives and grown-up 
 friends. The hamper, identical with the one forwarded by 
 the same donor to Rydon Crescent on Hester’s wedding day, 
 was lugged upstairs, and opened for Grace to see ; she 
 begged her son to look and admire, but either he held strong 
 principles on the question of exhilarating beverages, or he 
 had become a slave to a milk diet, and certainly he regarded 
 the straw-covered bottles with equanimity. Nurse, a tall 
 commanding person, made her own views clear, and ordered 
 Kate to replace the bottles, and take the hamper away. 
 “ Right away ! ” said nurse, in the words, but not in the 
 cadence, of a railway guard. Mr. Light, friend of Aunt 
 Eliza, had, it appeared, brought the gift, and waited in the 
 office for the latest bulletin to be taken back to the Crown 
 and Anchor. The message given, on the authority of nurse, 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 203 
 
 was that Mrs. Bannerton and the baby boy were going on as 
 well as could be expected. 
 
 “ I’m really,” whispers Grace to her son, “ going on much 
 better than that.” The infant blinks to indicate that he is 
 one who can respect confidences. 
 
 Tom Bannerton, permitted to look in, with nurse standing 
 by as one holding a stop watch, speaks with enthusiasm of 
 Aunt' Eliza’s thoughtfulness, and mentions that the bever- 
 ages come in very handily when friends call to give 
 congratulations ; Grace suggests that some may be reserved 
 for christening day, and the entertainment of guests on that 
 occasion. Tom Bannerton is giving a diverting story that 
 concerns Mr. Watherston and his third glass of port, when 
 nurse calls time, and, with an imperative gesture, directs 
 him to go. 
 
 “ I wonder,” remarks nurse, austerely to her patient, 
 “ when men will recognize that inebriety is not amusing ? ” 
 v Lady Ferrars sends a sprig of white heather, and this 
 meets with the approval of nurse who, fixing it at the head 
 of the belaced little cot, suddenly throws’ away reserve, 
 and confesses herself a profound believer in mascots, in 
 omens, in the telling of fortunes by cards, in palmistry, and 
 by reason of all this, and the explanation of details to an 
 interested listener, becomes more companionable, and can, 
 by an adroit question regarding the mystic, be wooed at 
 any time from severity. Nurse, trained in this and other 
 subjects at Queen Charlotte’s hospital, knows all about 
 the seventh child of a seventh son, and what is likely to 
 happen when you drop a table fork, and the dire and truly 
 awful consequences of having three candles lighted at a 
 time, and the risks of making an alteration when you have 
 chanced to put on a stocking inside out. Life, according 
 to nurse’s statements, is crowded with pitfalls, and you have 
 to go warily, eyes open, for fear of inviting the attentions of 
 the demon of ill luck. On the question of office work 
 downstairs, the young woman speaks plainly. 
 
 “ At one moment,” she points out, “ you are anxious lest 
 5 the business should go to wrack and ruin without your help. 
 Another moment, you are equally worried lest they should 
 find they can do quite well without you.” 
 
 “ I know it’s foolish,” 
 
204 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 “ That being so,” argues nurse, “ why give way to it ? 
 Be content to be where you are, and to have a jolly little 
 baby to hold in your arms.” Nurse speaks of married 
 ladies, known to her by repute, and well endowed with this 
 world’s goods, who, being childless, would give three fourths 
 of their property to be able to call Master Bannerton their 
 own. 
 
 Telegrams and correspondence accumulate on a small 
 table by the side of the bed, and Grace, when she feels 
 inclined, reads them through afresh, and is touched, more 
 and more, by the kindness exhibited. In a different 
 attitude of mind, she searches for omissions. Discovering 
 one, she alludes to it when Tom Bannerton makes his next 
 visit, and is told that the reason why the Mayor has not 
 sent a few words is that Tom and the Mayor have already 
 had a few words on another subject. Tom Bannerton, 
 having resolved not to be treated as a messenger boy, has 
 spoken frankly, and the Mayor has turned cantankerous, 
 huffy, rattish. 
 
 “ A great pity,” contends Grace. “ I wish it had not 
 happened.” 
 
 “ But it has,” he says lightly, “ and that’s all there is 
 about it.” 
 
 “ Can’t you make it up with him ? ” 
 
 “ Some could, but I’m not going to.” 
 
 “ It would be worth your while,” says Grace firmly. 
 
 “ For what is a man profited,” quotes Tom Bannerton, 
 “ if he shall gain the whole world, and lose ” 
 
 “ It isn’t a question of gaining the whole world, or of 
 losing your own soul. It’s a question of keeping on good 
 terms with useful people.” 
 
 “ This isn’t the only spot where useful people, as you call 
 them, exist. And I’m not inclined to stay here all through 
 my life.” 
 
 “ I am ! ” says Grace warmly. “ And so is the boy. 
 And I rather think you had better do the same.” 
 
 “ He’s a jolly little mite,” says Tom Bannerton, gazing 
 at the infant. “ We’re going to be uncommonly proud of 
 him.” 
 
 “ It will be more to the point that he shall be satisfied 
 with us.” 
 
205 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 Perhaps Aunt Eliza is the most satisfactory type of 
 visitor, in that she says little, but just gazes with a rever- 
 ential expression of features at the baby, ejaculating now 
 and again in an alliterative way, “ You dainty ducky, you. 
 Oh you peerless pet, you. Oh, you swagger sonny, you ! ” 
 And alludes to a pathetic melodrama in Britannia days 
 wherein, she as a girl with a past, being forced to deposit 
 a life-sized doll at the Foundling Hospital, shed real tears 
 every night throughout the run. 
 
 Kate’s reports, issued from time to time, are encouraging, 
 but Hester, in calling, appears so bewildered and her talk 
 is so frequently arrested as though by necessity for caution, 
 that it is difficult to understand her, or to make out whether 
 all is well, or everything ill. Being interrogated sharply, 
 Hester takes refuge behind a high wall of ignorance. No 
 news of Edmund. Very little news of Robert. Small 
 news of herself. As to Mr. Limpsfield, Hester has nothing 
 whatever to communicate. Grace starts a discussion on 
 the activities of the women’s suffrage agitation, mentioning 
 that Mrs. Pankhurst has been locked up on her return 
 from America, and Grace’s married sister, heretofore a 
 fierce enemy of the movement, declares now that perhaps 
 the leaders have good intentions and that, at any rate, 
 it is their affair. She has worries of her own to think 
 about. 
 
 “ I shall have more perhaps — I don’t know — ” says 
 Hester incoherently in going, “ to tell you later on, when 
 you’re well.” 
 
 Compared with Hester, the folk in Churton Street, 
 viewed presently from a sofa near to the window, when 
 Master Bannerton is as much as eleven days old, are 
 informative, although their messages are made only by 
 signals. The wife of the tobacconist next door waves 
 a hand and then endeavours to convey surprise, and 
 even alarm ; Grace is tempted to disobey nurse’s instruc- 
 tions, and to open the window in order to gain completer 
 details. Patrons of the Victoria going by, lift hats, and 
 beckon humorously, and point to the restaurant ; the 
 meaning is apparently that Mrs. Bannerton’s' services are 
 wanted there at the earliest convenient moment. Members 
 of the Political Club make similar recognition, and indicate 
 
206 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 applause by patting one band against the other. Certain 
 ladies are honoured by sight of Master Bannerton, lifted 
 up for exhibition and resenting this premature encounter 
 with the fair sex, and their suggestion of quips, and cranks, 
 and wanton wiles. His Worship the Mayor, going along 
 with Other silk-hatted folk in his motor-car, gives no in- 
 terest to the office in Churton Street. 
 
 It is this last circumstance which 1 persuades Grace one 
 afternoon to make a great effort in pedestrianism. Nurse 
 is out for the afternoon, visiting and taking sugar for 
 Pound Day at a Maternity Centre where she was once 
 engaged. The baby boy is well asleep. Below, all appears 
 to be quiet ; Grace is aware that the slack hour of the day 
 has arrived. With the support of chairs, walls, and ban- 
 nisters, she manages to get half-way down the staircase. 
 
 “ Alfred, Alfred ! ” in low, insistent tones. 
 
 “ Ma’am ! ” cries the astonished clerk, adjusting spec- 
 tacles. “ Is that you ? ” 
 
 “ Don’t be frightened by my dressing-gown.” 
 
 “ Never saw you look nicer,” declares Alfred fervently, 
 “ and that’s saying a lot. All the same, I think you ought 
 to get back before any one pops along.” 
 
 “ Here ! ” orders Grace. The lad comes to the foot 
 of the stairs. “ I only just want to find out if everything 
 is going on all right. I know you’ll tell me the truth.” 
 “ Do I hear your baby crying, ma’am ? ” 
 
 “ You don’t. Now give me a straightforward answer.” 
 “ Ma’am,” blurts out Alfred, “you ask if everything 
 is going on all right. My reply has to be that everything 
 is going on all wrong. We’re mixed up. Affairs have 
 not been helped by the circumstance that Mr. Limpsfield 
 has took to drink after being a life-long abstainer, and has 
 an impression that he can box, which he can’t. We’re 
 on quarrelling terms with eighty-five per cent of our 
 customers. There’s been language used in this office, 
 ma’am, during the past weeks, that I should blush to 
 repeat to a dustman. Mr. B.’s mother is in some sort of 
 a financial corner, and we’ve had to ladle money out to 
 her wholesale.” 
 
 “ Are you serious,” she asks agitatedly, “ in telling me 
 this, Alfred ? ” 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 207 
 
 “ I wish to heaven,” declares the lad, “ I was being 
 funny. If you don’t get well, and come back here pretty 
 soon, we shall have — I make no disguise about it — we shall 
 have to write Mizpah over the portals of this establish- 
 ment.” He calls to her, as she goes slowly and thought- 
 fully to her room. “ Ichabod, I mean,” he corrects. 
 
CHAPTEB XVII 
 
 T HE doctor felt astonished at the relapse in the 
 patient’s condition ; nurse confessed she was per- 
 plexed. In grave and private conference the two 
 suggested that the causes existed long before they were 
 called in. Overwork. Excessive attention to business 
 matters. Loss of a father. They were more assured in 
 coming to a decision regarding the action to be taken. 
 “ A nursing home.” 
 
 “ Complete detachment from all worries.” 
 
 “ No time to be lost.” 
 
 Agreement to the plan was secured from Tom Ban- 
 nerton without difficulty ; genuinely startled and pained, 
 he declared that money was not to be considered, and he 
 felt willing to leave the arrangements in the hands of 
 the experts. The incident came, he said, at a moment 
 when he was perturbed by several other matters, but 
 none of these compared, in importance, with the health 
 of his wife. Grace herself seemed willing to be lifted, 
 or carried, or transferred, and to be dealt with as a parcel ; 
 even the immediate care of the baby boy proved a detail 
 in which she had not the energy to interfere. She was 
 conveyed downstairs one afternoon in perfect silence to 
 a cab, and, by nurse’s orders, Mr. Bannerton was kept 
 out of the way. Sympathetic neighbours watched dis- 
 creetly. Cook at the Victoria wept, and Gladys, sobbing, 
 cried, “ Alfred, oh Alfred ! ” an appeal to somebody who, 
 if he had been challenged, might have been able to furnish 
 some explanation of the breakdown in health. 
 
 During the first month of the stay in Blandford Square, 
 Grace Bannerton found herself allowed to receive no 
 letters, to read no newspapers, to see no callers. For the 
 208 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 209 
 
 most part, she dozed, and in the brief but rapid dreams 
 it often happened that the pleasantest news arrived. 
 In these dreams, the office was succeeding beyond all 
 reasonable hopes, distinguished people of the borough made 
 it a place for meeting, and Tom Bannerton showed an 
 energy that deserved and received her cordial praise. 
 But for the fact that dreams are always at the time con- 
 vincing, exception might have been taken to the circum- 
 stance that folk, long since gone, were about, making no 
 apology for their return to earth, and comporting them- 
 selves as though they had been away only for a week-end 
 at Bex Hill. Also, the boy had grown up, and was taking 
 an active and most intelligent part in the business, with 
 his own opinion on local affairs, and remarkably outspoken 
 concerning the need for military preparations. No one, 
 in the dreams, could have been more satisfied with the 
 boy than Grace’s own mother. The trying time came 
 when eyes opened after these diversions of sleep, and it 
 had to be realized that dreams are not true. It was like 
 coming out of a warm theatre into the chill, gloomy 
 night. 
 
 Then there was Edmund. In the dreams, Edmund 
 was an immense successful member of the dramatic 
 profession, but his triumphs made no change in his de- 
 portment towards Grace ; the chats between the two 
 were of the friendliest nature. 
 
 “ My car,” said Edmund genially in the dreams, “ will 
 call at Churton Street at half -past seven sharp. I can’t 
 eat before the show, but I want you to meet some well- 
 known people at my rooms afterwards, and we’ll have 
 a pleasant little supper there. The car will, of course, 
 take you home.” 
 
 “ But shan’t I be rather in the way ? ” 
 
 “ I hope so,” he replied. “ My way and your’s, dear 
 Gracie, are almost identical.” 
 
 The waking hours recalled, with their blunt method 
 of accuracy, the real encounter with Edmund near Oxford 
 Circus. 
 
 As to plans for the future, the visions of dozing hours 
 were entirely unreliable ; the only plan was to dismiss 
 them immediately, and bring the wide awake mind into 
 14 
 
210 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 play. Here Grace Bannerton ascertained there was some 
 excuse for the dictatorial procedure of doctor and nurse, 
 and the transfer from Churton Street to Blandford Square. 
 For, after thinking over all the particulars of work in 
 the office, and considering methods for improvement and 
 advance, she suddenly came up against a brick wall, and 
 her thoughts could go no further. She repeated Alfred’s 
 statement carefully, and at times it seemed to convey — 
 as it had done in the first place — sheer and undiluted 
 hopelessness ; an hour later and, on reconsideration, it 
 appeared to be nothing more than a lad’s desire to behave 
 importantly. 
 
 i “ He said,” argued Grace to the initials of the home 
 set on a corner of the pillow, “ nothing against Tom. 
 That means there was nothing to be said. If Tom keeps 
 his head, all will be well. Whether I am at the helm or 
 Tom is there, doesn’t matter so long as the helm is looked 
 after.” Office matters took a remote place when she 
 thought of the separation from baby. It was then that 
 the young woman who brought meals on a tray, and set 
 the bed to rights, began to show that she owned powers 
 of speech and delivered a brief and gentle lecture on tears, 
 and how and when they should be restrained. 
 
 “ We countenance nothing of that kind here, you know,” 
 she remarked Soothingly. 
 
 “ You don’t understand,” pleaded Grace. 
 
 “ Oh yes we do. Any woman can understand, and most 
 men. But if you want to get back soon to the little man, 
 why, you really must keep cheerful. After all, he’s too 
 young to miss you.” 
 
 “ That,’ 4 argued Grace, “ doesn’t help me much.” 
 
 “ Go to sleep, dear,” counselled the other, “ and forget 
 everything.” 
 
 Relaxation of strict orders came in the manner of a 
 blind that is raised slowly. The first correspondence was 
 a great event, and if the writers conveyed the air of holding 
 in the pen, Grace argued to herself that this impression 
 was due to the fact that she wanted all the news at once. 
 Baby was going on fine, wrote Kate ; nothing could be 
 better than that. Kate herself had left v Friday Street 
 in order to attend to baby. Tom Bannerton sent a note 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 211 
 
 consisting of a few affectionate words only ; this could 
 be taken as proof that Tom was busy. Mr. Light wrote 
 on behalf of Aunt Eliza, who happened to be ill ^md ought 
 to be seeing a doctor but refrained from doing so because, 
 having the acquaintance of three, she did not care 
 to risk giving offence to two. Cook wrote. Hedley 
 wrote. 
 
 “ Let me know,” begged Hedley in his note, “ when 
 you return to Churton Street, and I will call there. It 
 is rather urgent that I should see you.” 
 
 ^Delivery of public journals marked another stage, 
 although they brought no news which could not have 
 been guessed. Grace found that events in Ireland were 
 as events had, in her time, always been. Symptoms of 
 unrest were reported from Albania. The improvements 
 at Baker Street station made steady progress. The 
 militant campaign on behalf of women’s suffrage was 
 being carried on with increased fervour. There had 
 been a mysterious crime in South London. The German 
 Emperor thanked God he could look back, with satis- 
 faction, on the past twenty-five years of serious work 
 under the fertilizing rays of the sun of peace. Grace 
 wanted the most recent issue of the newspaper of her 
 own borough, but this could not be obtained. 
 
 On the day fixed for release from the nursing home, 
 a premature arrival of patients from the Midlands induced 
 the authorities to give her permission to leave in a cab, 
 without waiting for the hour when Kate was to fetch her. 
 In turning into Churton Street, the window of the convey- 
 ance was let down, and Grace Bannerton looked out ap- 
 preciatively. The Victoria, Restaurant was making itself 
 tidy ; a very tall woman, of a slightly foreign appearance, 
 rubbed energetically at the brass frame. The tobacconist’s 
 wife stood on a ladder, cleaning windows, and evidently 
 disquieted lest folk should glance at her ankles. Grace, 
 as the cab stopped, jumped out, paid the driver, and went 
 to the door of the office with all the exultation of one 
 about to give a joyous surprise. She felt desirous of 
 being again in the stride of business ; she wanted to hear 
 Tom Bannerton’s greeting ; above all, there "was the 
 eagerness to have her dear baby in her arms, to kiss his 
 
212 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 eyes, and to tickle his plump little neck. The door refused 
 to open, and she noted a card there, held by a drawing- 
 pin. 
 
 It bore the word, “ Closed.” 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 T HE tobacconist’s wife, coming down the wooden 
 steps at a remarkably good pace, supported Grace 
 with a strong right arm, and tried to open the side 
 door. But this too was shut, and the sympathetic neigh- 
 bour had, in desperation, to find a bunch of keys ; it 
 proved that, by a handy arrangement on the part of the 
 builder, her own latch key fitted the lock of Number 
 Seventeen, and, likely enough, would have gained entrance 
 to all the other houses in the street. Upstairs she was 
 able to start on the task of giving some news of a reassuring 
 kind. / 
 
 “ Your sister took dear babs out,” she explained, “ half 
 a hower ago, and it won’t be long before they’re back.” 
 “ What a weight for her to carry ! ” 
 
 “ Oh, of course, you haven’t seen the pram. My word,” 
 said the neighbour amusedly, “ you won’t ’alf fancy 
 yourself when you catch sight of that. It’ll cost half 
 a crown to speak to you, then.” 
 
 “ Where,” faltered Grace, “ where is Mr. Bannerton ? ” 
 “ Him ? Oh, he’s gone to the funeral.” 
 
 “ Whose funeral ? ” 
 
 “ There,” confessed the tobacconist’s wife, “ you have 
 me. I don’t pretend I wasn’t curious to know, and I 
 did make one or two casual inquiries, but no one seemed 
 able to give me any information. I rather guessed it 
 was a near relative. Your husband — excuse me for saying 
 so — but he isn’t one to. put himself out to such an extent 
 unless it’s for some one pretty close.” 
 
 “ All that,” remarked Grace, “ doesn’t account for 
 the shutting up of the office.” 
 
 “ I think,” said the other with reserve, <£ I must leave 
 213 
 
214 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 you to find everything out for yourself. I could, if I liked, 
 tell you what a muddle it’s been in whilst you were away. 
 I could, if I wished to interfere, tell you that your sister’s 
 husband ought to be turned out, neck and crop. I could, 
 supposing I was one of your fussy people, argue that 
 Alfred Plowman ought never to have been allowed to go.” 
 
 “ Alfred gone ? ” 
 
 “ But being one never inclined to do anything but 
 look after my own business, I say nothing. Here’s dear 
 babs crossing the street now. Lord, he is a popular 
 little chap, and no mistake. Every one knows him, and 
 it’s my belief he’s beginning to know every one. ’Scuse 
 me ! ” 
 
 The neighbour ran down the staircase, and Grace, from 
 the window, saw that she offered compliments to the 
 baby ere she gave information to Kate. Kate seemed 
 to realize the necessity for instant shopping, and left the 
 magnificent perambulator in the charge of the neighbour 
 whilst she hastened along to make purchases. Other 
 ladies from establishments near came up, and Master 
 Bannerton held an informal reception. Grace, looking 
 down, could not prevent herself from feeling resentful. 
 The baby ought to be satisfied with no one less than his 
 own mother. If he had lost his mother — Her eyes filled. 
 
 There was comfort in the knowledge that Tom Bannerton 
 had sound reason for his absence from the office ; Grace 
 gave a few moments to calm speculation. She could 
 think of no one who would claim this attention from 
 him but Mrs. Watherston, of Highbury, and Grace wished 
 now there had been an opportunity for making up all 
 disputes. Not a bad sort, probably; love for her son 
 was no fault, and jealousy of those who cared for him was 
 natural. Grace decided that the reported loss of money 
 had affected Mrs. Watherston’s health. 
 
 “ Poor old soul,” she remarked. “ Trouble came her 
 way all of a heap.” 
 
 Kate returned with parcels ; the ladies below took their 
 leave with flattering words to the baby. The perambu- 
 lator came into the passage, and Grace went down to meet 
 her son. 
 
 “ I haven’t the slightest doubt,” said Kate, in an awed 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 215 
 
 voice as she looked on, “ that he knows you. I could 
 be almost positive about it. Look, at him smiling.” 
 Kate went to the kitchen to prepare a meal, and the two 
 were left alone to enjoy the conversation which has to be 
 a monologue when one of the parties can do nothing more 
 than gurgle, and make bubbles. And did the little man 
 miss his mumsie then ? Why, of course he did, and, of 
 course, he’s overjoyed to see her again. And had Auntie 
 Kate and all the rest been kind to him whilst mumsie 
 was away ? Why, of course they had. And had he been 
 a good dear baby all the time ? Why, of course ; the 
 bestest baby in the whole wide world. Upstairs Master 
 Bannerton was becoming slightly restive under this one- 
 sided discussion when Kate entered to lay the table ; 
 he kicked and plunged enthusiastically on catching sight 
 of her. 
 
 “ Takes more notice of you,” mentioned Grace with 
 regret, “ than he does of me.” 
 
 “ You’ll soon get him back.” 
 
 “ Looks rather as though I shan’t have much time to 
 devote to that. Office work seems to be in a rare tangle.” 
 
 “ It’s the fault mainly,” said Kate, “ of Hester’s hus- 
 band, but apart from that, there has been no one to hold 
 the reins.” 
 
 “ First step is to get young Alfred to return. I must 
 see to that at once.” 
 
 “ Eat your meal comfortably,” ordered Kate, “ and I’ll 
 run along to his mother’s house, and ask him to call and 
 see you.” 
 
 Kate, on her return, confessed that in her mission she 
 had not been entirely successful. She had found Alfred 
 Plowman on the edge of setting out to ask for an inter- 
 view with Mr. Hedley in the City ; Alfred’s mother de- 
 clared her boy had been treated shamefully, and she 
 would not hear of a resumption of duties at Churton Street. 
 “ Rather than which,” said Alfred’s parent, “ I’d see 
 him selling bootlaces in the main road ! ” The com- 
 promise arranged was that Alfred would postpone his 
 departure for half an hour. Grace went immediately 
 to the address, and brought him away, despite fierce 
 argument from Mrs. Plowman, conveying him, under 
 
216 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 escort, to the office. The office door was opened from the 
 inside ; the card taken down. Bannerton’s Agency, in 
 spite of its dishevelled appearance, re-started. 
 
 “ You have told me a great deal, Alfred,” said Grace 
 at one of the desks, “ but I have a notion that you haven’t 
 told me all.” 
 
 “ Ma’am,” he said, “ I’m the very last person to keep 
 any facts from you.” 
 
 “ The latest,” she corrected. “ Probably not the last. 
 There’s an idea that women folk can be put off with about 
 half the truth.” 
 
 “ If you want to know the complete. truth,” cried Alfred 
 impulsively, “ it is that this show can’t be run without 
 you, and that’s all about it ! ” 
 
 Customers looked in with the air of folk possessing a 
 grievance, and determined to air it ; Grace met them 
 with assurances of her own delight at the encounter, and 
 expressions of regret at her compulsory absence from duties. 
 The least they could do was to convey a hope that Mrs. 
 Bannerton was now herself again ; the most they felt 
 prepared to do in the way of complaining was to trust 
 that business details would now receive proper attention. 
 Grace assured them that no effort on her side was likely 
 to be wanting, and the customers left in genial mood. 
 Alfred Plowman, . at about the hour of four, gave an ejacu- 
 lation as some one went along in a quick shower of rain, 
 and Grace, sticking penholder in her hair, ran out and 
 chased the passer-by. 
 
 “ Mr. Mayor,” she said breathlessly, “ I must thank you. 
 Please ! ” His Worship said coldly that, so far as he knew, 
 there was no necessity for acknowledgments. “ I’ve been 
 ill, and away in a nursing home.” His Worship felt sorry 
 to hear this, and begged to be pardoned for hurrying 
 on to fulfil an urgent public engagement. “ I know how 
 good and considerate you have been to my husband,” 
 asserted Grace, “ and it is his most earnest wish to explain 
 and apologize for anything that may seem to you to 
 require apology or explanation.” His Worship, now 
 sheltering Grace with his umbrella, said of himself that 
 he was one who ever preferred friendship to enmity, and 
 he would be at his own house, a week hence, from eight 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 217 
 
 o’clock until half-past in the evening. “ I’ll bring him 
 along,” promised Grace. 
 
 “ Allow me,” begged the Mayor courteously, “ to see 
 you back to your doorway. Good-looking ladies are 
 scarce, and we can’t afford to leave them out in the rain.” 
 The typewriting machine rattled away busily as Grace, 
 looking through neglected correspondence, dictated com- 
 munications. “ By a regrettable oversight on the part 
 of a member of my staff, your letter has but just come 
 to my notice. I hasten to assure you that the matter 
 shall receive prompt attention.” Alfred took a double 
 handful of letters off to post, and in bidding good night 
 attempted to deliver a set speech, but finding the words 
 refused to answer his summons, said: 
 
 “ I look on you as a positive angel, ma’am ! ” 
 
 And hurried away. 
 
 g Gladys, from the Victoria, called to say that the news 
 of Mrs. Bannerton’s return had come to the restaurant, 
 and cook desired converse at Mrs. Bannerton’s pleasure. 
 Grace, ascertaining that the baby had already been un- 
 dressed, bath’d, and set in his cot, told Kate she would 
 be at the Victoria for five minutes only ; certainly no more, 
 possibly less. In this, she spoke without remembering 
 cook’s powers in discussion. Cook had much to impart, 
 and a certain announcement to which she alluded with 
 mystery seemed to require a tremendous amount of pre- 
 liminary argument. Put shortly, the announcement was 
 that Grace’s assistance at the Victoria need not now be 
 regarded as imperative. The help of Miss Kratz had 
 been secured at a fair salary, and the lady proved industri- 
 ous, willing, capable. Cook had felt sure, all along, that 
 Grace, in attending to two establishments, was over- 
 tasking herself, but she knew protests would be useless. 
 Grace must bear in mind that she had now a child to look 
 after. 
 
 “ But I can do more than that.” 
 
 “ Whatever you do, dearie,” said cook persuasively, 
 “ you do well, and you are not going to shirk your home 
 
 duties. So, as I say •” The recital of plans was given 
 
 afresh. “ And I know of course I ought to have con- 
 sulted you, but I acted for the best, and I hope you’ll 
 
218 
 
 BANNEBTON’S AGENCY 
 
 understand. There’s a lot besides I want to talk to you 
 about, but you’re busy, and it’ll keep.” Miss Kratz, it 
 appeared, was not British ; cook regarded this as a mis- 
 fortune rather than a fault. 
 
 There was nothing to grieve about in the exclusion 
 from the restaurant, seeing that so much had to be done 
 at Number Seventeen ; certainly there was little to com- 
 plain of in regard to Tom Bannerton’s welcome. He 
 caught Grace as she was leaving tbe Victoria, and the 
 embrace given extorted praise from all ladies who chanced 
 to be witnesses of the incident. The two walked happily 
 in the direction of the office, chatting of their wonderful 
 son, of Kate’s attentiveness to the infant during her 
 sister’s absence, of the damage to his silk hat by the showers 
 of the day. Brief as the journey was, they encountered 
 folk who greeted them with enthusiasm. Delighted to 
 see Mrs. Bannerton out and about again. Place had 
 not appeared to be the same without her. Wonderfully 
 good idea, this rest cure. Wished that they, themselves, 
 had a chance of indulging in one. 
 
 “ Tell me,” begged Grace, indoors, “ all the news con- 
 cerning your poor mother.” 
 
 “ It’s a long story,” he said, “ and not a particularly 
 agreeable one. The mater allowed herself to be deluded 
 by that unutterable scoundrel of a Beau Brummel. I 
 see no excuse for her stupidity.” 
 
 “ You yourself were once taken in by him.” 
 
 “ Different matter altogether,” argued Tom Bannerton. 
 “ Anyway, the fact exists that Watherston belongs to 
 the rather numerous group who ought to be in the dock 
 at the Old Bailey, and, instead, get summonses to serve 
 on a jury.” 
 
 “ I wish I had taken more trouble about her, Tom. 
 There was much I could have done, and perhaps ought 
 to have done.” 
 
 “ She made herself a fool over Watherston.” 
 
 “ He wasn’t at the funeral to-day, I hope ? ” 
 
 “ Why, of course not.” 
 
 “ Who was there besides you ? ” 
 
 “ Not many people,” he answered. “ I shouldn’t have 
 gone if you had been at home. But I thought it would 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 . 219 
 
 look rather decent for one of us to be there, and, as it 
 happened, it was just as well.” Grace stared at him. 
 “ She left everything to you.” 
 
 “ No ! ” 
 
 “ Everything to you, with the rather queer direction 
 that you should use the money only for the benefit of the 
 boy. No one else. But I expect the difficulty can be 
 overcome in some way. I told Mr. Light I should take an 
 early opportunity of consulting a solicitor about it.” 
 
 “ Your mother’s wishes must be respected.” 
 
 “ Nothing whatever to do with her.” 
 
 -“Tell me!” begged Grace. “Whose funeral did you 
 attend to-day ? ” 
 
 “ I attended the funeral,” replied Tom Bannerton 
 precisely, “ of your Aunt Eliza, Mrs. Reeves, of the Crown 
 and Anchor.” 
 
 “ Don’t tell me the dear soul is dead ! ” 
 
 “ That,” he said, “ is one of the chief reasons why 
 they buried her. And now — hope I am making myself 
 clear at last — the important matter we have to consider 
 is how to touch the money.” 
 
 “ Have no anxieties on that score,” said Grace promptly. 
 
 There were few recriminations concerning the office, 
 but it might have been noted by the observant that Grace 
 Bannerton raised her voice slightly in addressing remarks 
 or in giving instructions to her husband on business 
 matters. Hester’s husband came, in a state of acute 
 penitence, and tried to explain that, in shutting up the 
 office on Tom’s departure for the funeral, he had been 
 prompted mainly by feelings of respect for the departed. 
 Mr. Limpsfield was sorry to admit in regard to the taking 
 of beverages that he had perhaps, from want of experience, 
 over-estimated his own capacity, and all he could say 
 was that this would never happen again. 
 
 “ I don’t much care,” said Grace, “ whether it does 
 or not.” 
 
 “ You are wise,” said Mr. Limpsfield judicially, “ in 
 taking the generous view. We are all of us liable to a 
 slip.” 
 
 “ Your slip will, in future, occur at some other place. 
 
220 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 Not here. We can’t afford it.” She counted out money. 
 “ Take this, and be off.” 
 
 “ Where to ? ” he demanded surprisedly. 
 
 “ Jericho ! Or anywhere else. But you are not to 
 show your face again, mind, at Churton Street.” 
 
 “ Hester won’t easily forgive you for this,” he threat- 
 ened. 
 
 “ Sorry for her troubles, but I can’t help them. Good 
 morning ! ” Vn 
 
 Alfred Plowman was able to hint that his own resignation, 
 and several other painful incidents were for the most 
 part due to the presence and the eccentric behaviour 
 of the gentleman who had now been relieved of duties. 
 The unfortunate detail was that, in the disputes between 
 the clerks, Mr. Bannerton had invariably taken sides 
 against Alfred ; the youth, with a knowledge of the work 
 considerably more accurate than that possessed by the 
 two seniors, resented this treatment, and was, at first, 
 inclined to contend against them, but later resolved to 
 withdraw. “ You see, ma’am,” pleaded Alfred, “ I’d 
 got no one to back me up.” Grace assured him that she 
 was now pulling in his boat. 
 
 The scheme of appeasing correspondents went on, and 
 letters began to come in bringing, for the most part, 
 handsome acceptances by the writers. At times, they 
 conveyed the notice that business relations were sundered. 
 
 Tom Bannerton, working with some assiduity — in the 
 way of a child who has already fixed on the reward to 
 be asked for — protested strenuously when the day and 
 the hour came for paying the visit to the Mayor. Tom 
 Bannerton declared he was not going to lick the boots 
 of any man. He intended neither to cringe nor to fawn. 
 The Mayor had said he could do without Bannerton, 
 and the Mayor would have to see that Bannerton could 
 do without the Mayor. These pompous self-made men 
 
 “ There are worse things than being self-made,” inter- 
 posed Grace. 
 
 “ To enable you to get off a repartee, I suppose I must 
 ask what can be worse.” 
 
 “ To be self-marred.” 
 
 “ Roars of laughter ! ” snapped Tom Bannerton. And 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 221 
 
 went on to describe the improbable events likely to occur 
 ere he offered an apology in a case where no sufficient 
 grounds existed for an apology. “ Leave me a fragment 
 of self-respect,” he begged. At the end of the discussion, 
 he agreed to a compromise. Grace was to pay the visit 
 alone. She would take with her a letter signed by her 
 husband, and intimating that she had full powers to speak 
 on her husband’s behalf. 
 
 “ I’m doing this,” he said impressively, as he wrote, 
 “ to oblige you. Later on, I may have to ask you to go 
 slightly out of your way to do a favour for me.” 
 
 “ If it’s anything to help the office ” 
 
 “ You seem to have got the office on your brain.” 
 
 “ I shouldn’t have to, if you kept in your mind.” 
 
 A brief silence, and he handed her the letter. “ See if 
 that’s all right,” he said. 
 
 Grace made a first score, in calling at the Mayor’s house, 
 by demanding audience of the Mayoress. The two had 
 met on the League committee, and the Mayoress (with a 
 full knowledge of all the circumstances attending the 
 dispute between their respective men) said, at once, there 
 was no earthly use in talking over the matter with her. 
 Grace explained that she had come to beg for counsel 
 by reason of the Mayoress’s well-known gift for bringing 
 up children, especially in their tender years ; the Mayoress 
 asked for further particulars, and Grace had to impose 
 on her son certain defects which could not, with truth, 
 have been placed to his charge. Wakefulness at nights. 
 Tendency to scream unceasingly. Spots on the back. 
 Erratic deportment in other ways. The Mayoress, her 
 interest thoroughly aroused, spoke of like cases encountered 
 by her, and dealt with by her, in years long past, with 
 conspicuous triumph ; she placed very readily all her 
 knowledge at Grace’s disposal. In regard to patent foods, 
 the Mayoress had brought up her own children on one 
 kind, and one kind only ; she earnestly warned Mrs. Ban- 
 nerton to have nothing to do with any of the others, 
 and Mrs. Bannerton guaranteed the advice should be 
 remembered. Grateful thanks were being offered when 
 the Mayor, watch in hand, stamped into the room, saying 
 aggrievedly :/ 
 
222 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 “ That good-looking young woman from Churton 
 Street was to be here with her husband at eight o’clock, 
 and now just look at the time — eh, what ! 55 
 
 His wife was enormously amused by the Mayor’s blunder ; 
 he argued that no blunder existed, and that the description 
 given of the visitor was undoubtedly exact. Grace said 
 the compliment, owing to its rarity, would be treasured ; 
 the Mayor took some credit to himself as an impartial 
 judge where the appearance of ladies was concerned, 
 and accepted raillery from his wife on this topic with com- 
 placency. The three were on excellent terms when Grace 
 handed over the letter, mentioning that her husband’s 
 absence was due to nothing but a cold, which he had 
 no desire to share with other folk. The Mayoress thought 
 this very wise of Mr. Bannerton, and said it reinforced 
 her good opinion of him. Her own theory was that, at 
 the first sneeze, you should go instantly to bed. 
 
 “ This note,” said the Mayor, taking oil pince-nez, 
 “ is all very well so far as 'it goes, but it doesn’t go 
 far.” 
 
 “ May I venture,” asked Grace diffidently, “ to make 
 a suggestion ? You are both due at a dinner to-morrow 
 night. What I thought was that, on meeting each other, 
 you could shake hands publicly — so that every one saw 
 the misunderstanding was over — and no references to 
 the past need be made on either side. But very likely 
 that isn’t practicable.” 
 
 “ Why not ? ” barked the Mayor. 
 
 £ ‘ It is for you to say.” 
 
 “ If he’s agreeable, I’m agreeable. Bannerton can be 
 useful if he likes to me, and, as I have said on a previous 
 occasion, I can be useful if I like to Bannerton.” 
 
 “ A glass of something, and a slice of cake, my dear,” 
 urged the Mayoress to Grace. “ before you go out in the 
 cold ? No ? Then a sip of my own home-made wine 
 that I can promise you won’t fly to the head. Ah,” as 
 Grace indicated consent, “ I guessed that would tempt 
 you!” 
 
 Tom brought from the dinner a satisfactory account 
 of the making of peace. He brought also the menu card, 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 223 
 
 signed by distinguished folk who had been present at the 
 meal. 
 
 “ That being over,” he said, rather carefully, “ I want, 
 old girl, to speak of the affair we alluded to vaguely the 
 other day.” 
 
 “ I forget.” 
 
 “ You spoke very kindly about the mater, if you 
 recollect. Well, there’s a chance for you to do something. 
 She will have to leave Highbury, and I have reason to 
 know she’d be uncommonly pleased if you asked her to 
 come here.” r$' v i 
 “ For a week-end ? ” 
 
 “ For always.” 
 
 “ Oh, no ! ” she said promptly. 
 
 “ Not to oblige me ? ” he asked. 
 
 “ Not to oblige any one. Your mother would want to 
 take control of you, and of me, and of the baby. It 
 couldn’t answer. It wouldn’t have a chance. This is 
 my home, and I’m going to run it. Go on helping her 
 with money, as you have done lately, but don’t ask me 
 to invite her to come and live here.” 
 
 “ You refuse ? ” 
 
 “ Absolutely ! ” 
 
 “ I shall not,” said Tom Bannerton, after a pause, 
 “ discuss this matter with you again. Or any other that 
 I can possibly avoid.” 
 
CHAPTEE XIX 
 
 T HERE had been indications, before tbe difference 
 of opinion happened in regard to the mother at 
 Highbury, that Tom Bannerton was changing his 
 business methods. • The causes were various, and the 
 weight to be attached to each had to be a matter for specu- 
 lation. There was, for example, the straight talk given 
 by the doctor after Grace’s return from the nursing home. 
 There existed the open deference of Alfred Plowman to 
 the views on any subject held by the lady at Churton 
 Street, and his scarcely concealed attitude tp wards the 
 opinion held by the gentleman. The praise furnished by 
 the district of Grace’s energy and capabilities had an 
 implication that could not be overlooked. Some credit 
 for the new procedure might have been claimed too by 
 the tobacconist, and the eloquence shown by him in a 
 debate on women’s suffrage at the club. “ I am pre- 
 pared,” said the tobacconist, in a fine passage on that 
 occasion, when urging the rights of the other sex, “ to 
 quote, or allude to, or mention a cognate instance, and 
 one which will illustrate my argument. With all respect 
 to our secretary who is sitting not far from me, I am going 
 to take the case of his wife, Mrs. Bannerton. Now then ! 
 Can any one say of her that she is not qualified, in every 
 respect, to give a vote at the polling booth as intelligently 
 as any man in this hall ? Look what’s she’s done for 
 that business in Churton Street ! Look at her work on 
 committee ! Look, moreover and additionally and further- 
 more ” It was said later that never had the tobacconist 
 
 delivered a greater oration, and it was remarked, aside, 
 as somewhat curious that Tom Bannerton took no part 
 in the discussion. 
 
 224 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 225 
 
 Sat there,” they mentioned, “ and stared hard, and 
 said nothing. And he’s pretty ready to chip in, mark 
 you, in an ordinary way ! ” 
 
 The presence of the little man, freshly arrived at Churton 
 Street and creating by his presence a feeling of responsi- 
 bility, may have had a share in the alteration which took 
 place. Whatever the comparative value of the causes, 
 the result became obvious. Tom Bannerton rose earlier 
 of a morning, and himself opened the door of the office 
 at a timely hour ; by a prompt skimming of the news- 
 paper he was able to exchange views with members of 
 his party who looked in on their way to the City, and desired 
 support of their own opinions on the parliamentary situ- 
 ation. Often he tackled the post letters ere Grace had 
 been granted leave of absence by her infant son, who, 
 with all a man’s inconstancy, had transferred to her the 
 affection hitherto given to Auntie Kate. When Grace 
 appeared at the desk and inquired regarding the nature 
 of correspondence, she was told, courteously enough but 
 briefly, that there was nothing of sufficient importance 
 to demand her attention. Tom Bannerton took more 
 pains to treat Alfred Plowman with a proper comradeship, 
 and Alfred responded. There was less of the sauntering 
 out, with a casual announcement jerked over the shoulder 
 of “ Back some time or other ! ” His independence to- 
 wards folk who called in regard 'to trifling matters became 
 modified. An electric bell was fixed up by which a summons 
 could be issued upstairs. 
 
 “ In order that,” he explained to Alfred Plowman, in 
 Grace’s hearing, “ if any one comes on servant-registry 
 business, one of us can let Mrs. Bannerton know. This 
 will save her the trouble of remaining in the office through- 
 out the day. You follow me ? ” 
 
 “ I am happily able, sir,” replied Alfred, in his stolid 
 way, “ to follow you, with ease.” 
 
 “ But I don’t mind being in the office,” pleaded Grace. 
 “ You will find the new plan more convenient.” 
 
 The situation was affected by Kate’s decision to return 
 to Friday Street, City, and take up again duties there. 
 It seemed to Kate that her services were not now urgently 
 required at Churton Street ; Grace had leisure to perform 
 15 
 
226 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 domestic tasks, and was able to look after baby. In 
 private discussion, she told Grace that some alarming 
 facts had suddenly imposed themselves upon her notice. 
 
 At Friday Street, it had at times been a grievance that 
 young men were over-intrusive with their attentions ; 
 at Churton Street, the well-grounded complaint was that 
 they took no notice of her. Apparently tastes differed 
 according to locality. Therefore Kate secured a re-en- 
 gagement in the warehouse, and left Churton Street each 
 morning after an early meal, hurrying home at night 
 that she might be present at the ceremony of Master 
 Bannerton’s bath. 
 
 “ It’s fine to be earning money again,” she declared, 
 
 “ and all the gentlemen are as nice as nice can be.” 
 
 “ That’s good,” said Grace approvingly. “ But make 
 your choice at your leisure. Don’t be in a hurry.” 
 
 “ The drawback, so far as I can see, is that marriage 
 does not seem to be in every case a success.” 
 
 “ Better than no marriage at all.” 
 
 “ I must bear that in mind,” said Kate. “ Is there 
 anything, I wonder,” hesitatingly, “ that you would like 
 to tell me about yourself and Tom ? ” 
 
 “ Nothing whatever,” answered Grace promptly. “ We 
 perfectly understand one another. You see, we have been 
 married long enough to have discussed nearly every subject, 
 and so we don’t talk quite so much as we used to. And,” 
 checking a sigh, “ I’m not wanted so much in the office. 
 That’s why I am glad to have your company, dear, of an 
 evening. And your conversation.” 
 
 There remained the League committee, and Grace’s 
 energy at the meetings, and her attention to details between 
 the meetings, drew new commendation from Lady Ferrars, » 
 and ensured popularity with the rest. Thus it happened 
 that when the Bannerton infant was taken out in his 
 magnificent perambulator for carriage exercise, there were 
 frequent encounters with notable ladies, and compliments 
 offered, and news passed to and fro ; one of the trials 
 came, on the return from these excursions, in the circum- 
 stance that she could no longer hope for attention to her 
 recital on the part of Tom Bannerton. But there was 
 Alfred, ever a good listener, and Alfred’s freshly engaged 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 227 
 
 assistants who had no prejudices against the cessation of 
 desk work. If Tom Bannerton happened to come in at 
 these moments, he disclosed surprise and hinted at reproof 
 by an uplifting of eyebrows, and Grace went upstairs. 
 
 For compensation, there existed the knowledge — gained 
 by her own powers of observing, by particulars brought 
 to hier notice, and by paragraphs in the local journal — of 
 his added importance in the borough. At times, the 
 journal awarded to him the honour of head-lines, and Grace 
 found these at the moment of opening the newspaper : 
 sight of his name' never failed to make her gasp with pride. 
 
 “ It occurs to me,” said Tom Bannerton one evening, 
 in the curt manner now adopted by him, “ that I am 
 not entertaining.” 
 
 “ Afraid I noticed that.” 
 
 “ I want to give a dinner.” 
 
 “ At home, or abroad ? ” 
 
 “ Not at home, certainly.” 
 
 “ I wonder why not ? ” inquired Grace. 
 
 “ The sufficient reason is that I say so.” 
 
 “ Come, come ! ” she remarked serenely. “ We needn’t 
 talk on those lines. Let us be civil. You wish to give 
 a dinner, and you desire to ask some friends. There is 
 nothing to dispute about. We can chat it over, quietly 
 and reasonably.” 
 
 “ Sorry if I appeared snappish.” 
 
 “ Don’t let it grow on you. And now about the feast. 
 When and where ? For how many shall we say ? And 
 who are they to be ? ” 
 
 On the night of the dinner (given at the Oxford Street 
 restaurant first patronized by the two on the day when 
 they returned from their honeymoon), a truce was by 
 unspoken and unwritten consent arranged. Tom Ban- 
 nerton and his wife were in the small reception-room, 
 with a youthful waiter in readiness at the doorway ; 
 Grace held the list in her hand, and was prepared to make 
 a note of each arrival, and to make an announcement 
 when the total had been reached. The conversations 
 necessary in making the preliminaries had slightly thawed 
 coldness, and they spoke now in something like the old 
 
228 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 manner. Together, they had inspected the table, and 
 approved details of the menu. Tom Bannerton gave a 
 word of compliment to the taste and execution shown 
 by Hester in making Grace’s first evening costume. Grace 
 set his necktie straight. 
 
 “ Mr. Hedley ! ” shouted the youth, at the doorway. 
 P Hedley bustled in, apologized for being late, and received 
 the assurance that he was in excellent time. He glanced 
 eagerly from one to the other, in chatting ; he asserted 
 that when the invitation reached him, he had almost 
 danced with joy. And how was the baby, and how was 
 business, and had Grace completely regained her health, 
 and was she taking care not to work too hard ? Hedley 
 said Grace looked younger, and Tom Bannerton looked 
 older, and alluded to himself as one in the sere and yellow 
 leaf. 
 
 §gj“ Miss Dunbar ! ” 
 
 ; The lady singer, creating her usual effect of overcrowd- 
 ing the room, declared she was enormously pleased to be 
 meeting the Bannertons again, counted it an amazing 
 piece of good luck that she chanced to have the evening 
 free of professional engagements, declared she was as 
 hungry as a hunter. Apart, she mentioned to Grace 
 that, unless her eyes gravely deceived her, Mr. Bannerton 
 had gone off in his personal appearance ; she trusted 
 Grace did not mind this expression of a candid opinion. 
 Grace, in no way perturbed, mentioned that her husband 
 was taking life seriously, and hinted that hard labour 
 rarely improved facial characteristics. Miss Dunbar 
 agreed, and said that after a long and exacting concert 
 tour, it cost her pounds and pounds to regain anything 
 like youth and attractiveness. “ And about yourself,” 
 went on the large lady. “ You seem happy, but are 
 you happy ? ” Grace remarked that she trusted the 
 other guests would not be late. 
 
 They entered so rapidly that the boy waiter became 
 confused over the names, and precise folk, such as Dr. 
 Mallin, and the ex-Mayor, declined to budge from the 
 doorway until corrections had been made, and exactitude 
 achieved. Mr. Light slipped a card into the lad’s hand, 
 and counselled him to take lessons in voice-production. 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 229 
 
 Sir Walter Ferrars had written (Hedley was relieved on 
 hearing this) expressing sorrow that owing to the many 
 
 calls on his time And so forth. But here was Lady 
 
 Ferrars, concentrating on the task of meeting useful folk, 
 and doing it with the greater success because of frankness 
 concerning motives. “ Those who go in for politics,” she 
 said, “ have to make themselves popular. Sir Walter 
 hasn’t got the knack, and so it’s left to me.” A new 
 chairman of the political club was introduced. “ Hope 
 we sit next each other,” said Lady Ferrars earnestly, 
 “ so that I can make love to you. How do you think 
 our side will get on at the next general election ? ” 
 
 Grace might have wished, in the course of the dinner, 
 that the company had included one or two more belonging 
 to the Lady Ferrars type. There was, especially amongst 
 the ladies, a stateliness of manner that of course did them 
 infinite credit, but scarcely helped in keeping up the 
 vivacious note set by the host and the hostess. Grace, 
 when a question gave her the opportunity, endeavoured 
 to spur the company into something like a gallop. 
 
 “ Do you know this restaurant well, Mrs. Bannerton ? ” 
 
 “ I have been here once only,” replied Grace. “ Soon 
 after my marriage.” There was a pause in other talk, 
 and she raised her voice. “ I remember the occasion 
 because it was on the day I tried to run away from my 
 husband.” A slight fluttering went up and down the 
 table. Tom Bannerton, recovering from astonishment, 
 said lightly that his wife was devoted to sports. Calm 
 returned to the dinner party. 
 
 When, at the end, and after a decent interval for polite 
 conversation, Miss Dunbar sang one or two songs of the 
 nature favoured by contraltos — songs of lost chances, 
 broken hearts, mislaid friends — then the ladies of the 
 party found handkerchiefs and, pressing them against 
 eyes, said one to another that good music was very up- 
 setting to the nerves. It was here that Lady Ferrars 
 took the opportunity to whisper to Grace. Grace in her 
 turn whispered to her husband, ,and he said desperately : 
 
 “ Well, we can but try it.” 
 
 Table pushed against the wall. Chairs set at one corner 
 of the room. Ladies, under direction and obeying with 
 
230 
 
 BANNEBTON’S AGENCY 
 
 reluctance, in a line at one end ; gentlemen, also in a line, 
 at tlie other. The first nursery game started with gentle- 
 men advancing to the chanted words : 
 
 Here we come gathering nuts in May, 
 
 Nuts in May, nuts in May 
 
 Then blind man’s buff, with Miss Dunbar wearing a 
 handkerchief tied over the eyes, and rushing * to and fro 
 with so much energy and intrepid bulkiness that it was 
 not easy to avoid collision with her, and her strong right 
 hand, before long, seized Dr. Mallin, and imposed on that 
 grave individual the penalty of deprivation of sight. Dr. 
 Mallin, once started on the slope of frivolity, exhibited a rare 
 memory and an active invention. He recalled old games 
 and arranged new sports. He undertook to perform a 
 conjuring trick, and the others agreed that if the wine- 
 glass had been a good wine-glass, and less liable to breakage, 
 nothing but success could have crowned his efforts. Dr. 
 Mallin induced the head waiter to find a stout rope, and 
 teams being selected, there was a tug-of-war with every one 
 doing his mightiest, and her utmost ; Miss Dunbar, un- 
 willing to give the influence of her weight to either side, 
 acted as judge, giving encouraging words to both teams. 
 
 “ Now then, all — together ! ” 
 
 “ Put your brain into it, my hearties ! ” 
 
 By the time that general post had been played, all 
 signs of aggressive decorum vanished. The wife of the 
 ex-Mayor offered to accompany her husband on the piano- 
 forte if he would give a humorous song, popular in the 
 ’eighties, and not heard by her, or indeed by any one, 
 for many a long day. The ex-Mayor asked on several 
 grounds to be excused ; none was accepted, and he sent 
 for an opera hat and a walking-stick, and with an air of 
 extreme juvenility and sprightliness sang of Strolling 
 west, strolling west, That’s the joy I like the best, With a 
 pretty girl on either arm, And not going home till the morn- 
 ing. 
 
 They finished with Eoger de Coverley, and Auld Lang 
 Syne, and the ladies in going said contentedly, “ Oh, what 
 a night it has been, to be sure ! ” and the gentlemen said 
 to Grace, in tones of earnestness, “ You’ve done us first- 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 231 
 
 class, Mrs. Bannerton . 55 Hedley shared the taxicab on 
 the way home, and accepted a suggestion that he should 
 come in at Number Seventeen to chat for ten minutes. 
 
 “ You go on upstairs , 55 directed Tom Bannerton to 
 Grace. “ Hedley and I want to talk business . 55 
 
 “ But I can share in that . 55 
 
 “ Not just now , 55 he said definitely. 
 
 A lengthy document made up of foolscap pages, numbered 
 and held together by a stout brass fastener, came by 
 express messenger from Leadenhall Street to Churton 
 Street, addressed to Mrs. Bannerton, and marked “ Strictly 
 Private . 55 Evidently the writer had taken considerable 
 pains in setting out the details of the case, and his recom- 
 mendations were made with so much care that no offence 
 could be taken. It seemed the two men, on the return 
 from the dinner, had not restricted their conversation 
 to matters of business ; it was possible office topics 
 had not entered into the discussion. Tom Bannerton 
 had suggested to Hedley that the intervention of a friend 
 might clear up some of the differences existing between 
 Grace and himself ; the differences had started in connection 
 with the request that his mother should be allowed to 
 reside at Churton Street, and this, it appeared, was still 
 the question which had to be settled ere anything else 
 could be discussed. 
 
 f “ I am told , 55 wrote Hedley, in his cautious way, “ but 
 of this I have no personal knowledge, that good fortune 
 had an effect on the deportment of the lady, and that 
 ill-luck has cancelled some of this. She needs a home, 
 and she is prepared to behave in a companionable manner, 
 and give no cause for irritation. The lady will even go 
 so far as to apologize for anything that may have given 
 annoyance in the course of her rare meetings with Mrs. 
 Tom. She is willing to contribute all the knowledge at 
 her disposal to the task of bringing up the child of the 
 family . 55 
 
 “ That , 55 commented Grace, in reading, “ puts the lid 
 on it ! 55 
 
 The document went on to argue that Hedley had no 
 intention of giving advice, but he felt Mrs. Tom would 
 
232 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 be wise in giving the proposal new and earnest consider- 
 ation. He believed that if Mrs. Tom gave way on this 
 point, she could dictate in regard to the others. Her 
 former occupation in the office would be resumed. Tom 
 Bannerton was to exercise control, but she could take 
 any part in the work she cared to select. His desire was 
 that she might not overtask herself ; this provided 
 for, there was unlikely to be any trouble in coming to an 
 agreement. Hedley, on the fifth and last page, mentioned 
 that he had called attention to the circumstance that 
 Number Seventeen would not be existing but for the 
 determination shown by Mrs. Tom in the earlier days. 
 
 “ And weeks ! ” said Grace. “ And years ! 15 
 
 To which Tom Bannerton answered that he wished 
 the past to be regarded as closed. The agency and all 
 the other branches of industry with which he was connected 
 were now doing well, and paying sufficiently, and nothing 
 was to be gained by raking over old ground. Hedley 
 summed up the case, asked to be acquitted of any charge 
 of superfluous meddling, and trusted he had stated the 
 case fairly and clearly. 
 
 Grace Bannerton wrote her answer at once, but delayed 
 posting for two days in order that it might be free from 
 a suspicion of impetuosity. 
 
 “ Dear Mr. Hedley, 
 
 “It was good of you to take so much trouble. 
 
 “I am not going to share the house with the relative 
 in question. I do not want her assistance in looking 
 after my baby boy. 
 
 “ I am inclined to think, and I certainly hope, everything 
 will turn out all right in the end, but patience is required. 
 It happens I have a fairly good stock in hand. 
 
 “You must come to the christening.” 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 HE christening of Edmund Thomas Bannerton 
 
 was an occasion of some magnificence, and the 
 
 engaging detail, so far as Grace was concerned, 
 seemed to be that the young man’s father made it one 
 of the rare occasions for emerging from the wall of reserve 
 which he had set up ; the small chap’s behaviour, too, 
 reached, by general consent, a stage very near to per- 
 fection. Master Bannerton’s example was not univer- 
 sally followed. Hester came in her most reproachful 
 mood. It would have served Grace right, she declared, 
 if words between them were never again exchanged. 
 Grace had been most unkind to Mr. Limpsfield. Some 
 might feel justified in describing the treatment as cruel. 
 Certainly one could not be far wrong in calling it un- 
 sisterly. 
 
 “ I’ve got it down against you,” said Hester, with force, 
 “ and I promise you it will be remembered.” 
 
 “ Hope he has got another berth.” 
 
 “ Of sorts,” replied Hester grudgingly. “ And no 
 thanks to you, ma’am.” 
 
 “ I noticed,” commented Grace, “ the absence of thanks.” 
 Edmund, having written a hurried letter (set in an en- 
 velope furnished, back and front, with theatrical adver- 
 tisements) in which he described himself as charmed, 
 flattered and overjoyed at being asked to be godfather, 
 discovered on the day an excuse for his absence. Mr. 
 Light, arriving on the heels of this disappointment, agreed 
 to take the position; consented further to give Mrs. 
 Tom five minutes for private talk, wherein Grace received, 
 in answer to her pleading, the assurance that Mr. Light 
 would, in no case, and injno set of circumstances, permit 
 
 233 
 
 / 
 
234 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 Aunt Eliza’s money to be used for tie benefit of any one 
 but Grace’s son. “ I know what you are driving at, my 
 dear,” said the old gentleman, “ and I see it the clearer 
 because your husband has already approached me on the 
 subject. I told *him that he wouldn’t, and shouldn’t, 
 and couldn’t touch a penny of it. I reckon,” went on Mr. 
 Light with emotion, “ that if I failed in my trust, the 
 ghost of your dear aunt— you don’t remember her at her 
 best, as I do — would haunt me, day and night. And 
 nobody would pity me, either ! ” Mr. Light decided 
 that the position conferred on him as the result of 
 Edmund’s absence required an appropriate costume : 
 he left by taxicab and returned from his rooms by taxi- 
 cab, presenting himself on the second entry in garments 
 which suggested “ Number One Round the Corner,” or 
 some Adelphi farce of a like date. At the church, a mild- 
 voiced curate listened with open admiration to his rolling 
 tones, and showed gratitude when Mr. Light favoured him 
 with advice. 
 
 “A course of ten lessons, sir,” said Mr. Light, “ and 
 you would be able to make yourself heard from one end 
 of Finsbury Park to the other. A positive fact.” 
 
 “ I fear one would be a difficult student.’' 
 
 “ Pooh ! ” cried the other, with an appropriate snap 
 of finger and thumb. “ I have undertaken far more 
 distressing cases than yours. With, if I may say so, 
 notable and triumphant success. And those cases at the 
 present time — forgive me if I quote — out-vociferise even 
 sound itself.” 
 
 “ You astonish one,” said the curate.. 
 
 “ I astonish most people,” said Mr. Light grandly. 
 
 Cook, from the Victoria, had taken charge of the prepar- 
 ation of the midday meal at Churton Street, and, ‘giving 
 in to persuasion, consented to number herself amongst 
 the guests. She had but one subject of interest now, 
 and the others had to listen to all that Miss Kratz said 
 to cook, and to much that cook said to. Miss Kratz, and 
 the varied and wonderful adventures of Miss Kratz in 
 different quarters of Europe. Of Miss Kratz’s determin- 
 ation to settlejdown now in London, for the rest of her 
 life. Of the genuine interest which the tall lady gave to 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 235 
 
 all matters affecting Great Britain, and, in particular, 
 the Navy ; no trouble was too great for her to take, and 
 she had recently become partially, but not completely, 
 engaged to a young officer connected with Chatham 
 Dockyard, whose acquaintance she had made by the purest 
 accident. Tom Bannerton, noting in his character of 
 genial host that cook was monopolizing conversation, 
 alluded to the importance of chance encounters, and urged 
 Grace to give the particulars of their own first meeting ; 
 Grace evaded this by challenging others to furnish their 
 experiences. Hedley came in, flushed with hurrying and 
 strangely excited, as Mr. Light was endeavouring to fix 
 the occasion of his first acquaintance with your sainted 
 aunt, my dear ; it happened, in the year of the Franco- 
 Prussian War, and that was exactly forty-four years ago. 
 Anyhow, “ Sinbad the Sailor ” was the pantomime, that 
 year, at the Brit. Hedley, having tendered a silver-plated 
 porringer as his gift to the boy, was invited to contribute 
 to the debate, and showed extraordinary and unusual 
 confusion. Rallied by the ladies, and cross-examined by 
 the host, Hedley admitted he had, that very morning, 
 encountered the most attractive young person in the 
 world. 
 
 “You don’t mean it ! ” cried Grace divertedly. 
 
 “ Let him go on,” urged Tom Bannerton. 
 
 “ Tell us all about her,” begged the ladies. “ Keep 
 nothing back, Mr. Hedley.” Cook reminded him that 
 confession was good for the soul. Kate alleged that she 
 had always cherished hopes that Mr. Hedley would, one 
 fine day, make an honourable offer to her ; she declared 
 the opportunities given by her were frequent and alluring. 
 Hedley, permitted to speak, asked the company to believe 
 that the suddenness and the unexpected character of 
 the incident had set his brain in a whirl ; he had not 
 recovered, and, in truth, did not wish to recover. The 
 facts were simple. Hedley found that, indulging in the 
 City man’s habit of extending sleep on a Sunday morning, 
 he had taken too little notice of his watch. Proposing 
 to make a direct line for Churton Street, he ascertained that 
 the North London Railway had its own methods for the 
 day ^ of rest, and in consequence there occurred a long 
 
236 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 wait at a station. A young woman, looking about in 
 vain for an official, put inquiries to Hedley. She wished 
 to reach the London Docks, with which, it appeared, 
 she was in no way familiar ; Hedley knew them well, 
 and explained the means of transit from Broad Street 
 station. The young woman, in excuse for want of instant 
 comprehension, pleaded she had not long been resident 
 in this country. 
 
 “ Oh, oh ! ” said Grace shrewdly. “ A foreigner, eh ? ” 
 
 Hedley, sympathy and gallantry aroused, offered to 
 accompany her so far as the terminus, and, in his own 
 words, she jumped at it. Arriving at Broad Street, he 
 determined to see his agreeable companion to another 
 stage of the journey ; on the omnibus he pointed out 
 shipping offices with which he was acquainted, and en- 
 deavoured to satisfy her thirst for information. In 
 leaving, she agreed to meet him again on Monday evening. 
 
 “ Quick work ! 55 commented Grace. 
 
 “ Did you find out her name ? ” asked Tom Bannerton. 
 “ Her present name, I mean. Of course we know what 
 her future name will be. 5 ’ 
 
 “ Kratz,” replied Hedley, “ and oddly enough, she 
 has an appointment near here. Perhaps you can tell 
 me something about her ? ” 
 
 No other incident could have helped so effectively to 
 make the christening day a success. Cook was astounded 
 by this confirmation of all she had offered in praise of her 
 assistant ; there existed, it was true, the case of the 
 officer at Chatham, but this she dismissed, to Hedley’s 
 relief, as a passing fancy. It was natural, said cook, 
 that a good-looking, well-built young woman should have 
 many admirers, but it seemed clear that under the present 
 law she could marry but one, and if Mr. Hedley took sound 
 advice, he would carry out his romantic plans with audacity 
 and vigour. “ You want,” said cook earnestly, “ to carry 
 her right off her feet ! ” Master Edmund was brought 
 down by his mother, when he gave the call announcing 
 that sleep had finished, and the news being communicated, 
 the baby seemed extravagantly amused, as men invariably 
 are on hearing of a friend’s engagement. The great 
 advantage of the incident proved to be that no other topic 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 237 
 
 had to be discussed. Once an inquiry was made concern- 
 ing Mrs. Watherston ; a brief silence followed, and Tom 
 Bannerton went on with his argument that Miss Kratz 
 being, in all likelihood, a princess in disguise, the question 
 of a morganatic marriage had to be faced. When Hedley, 
 under the impression that his adventure had been sufficiently 
 debated, alluded to a chance meeting with old Wather- 
 ston, who, gorgeously apparelled, was in the best of spirits, 
 and in the worst available company, Grace, with some 
 hurry, spoke of a castle in the Midlands/ now for sale, 
 and begged she might be entrusted by the ^ newly-married 
 pair with the task of securing it on the usual commission 
 as their future home. Mr. Light made it clear that he 
 did not intend to leave until he had favoured the company 
 with a recitation, and in giving this, and using the hearth- 
 rug as a stage, he chose the balcony scene from Romeo 
 and Juliet . The appropriateness of the selection was 
 obvious to all. 
 
 44 Love,” said cook emotionally, 44 is reelly very beau- 
 tiful. I often wish I’d had more to do with it.” 
 ^Robert Lennard came in as the guests were preparing to 
 leave. He made a strong endeavour to tell them of infor- 
 mation that had reached him, and other readers of Sunday 
 journals, from the south-east corner of Europe ; something 
 had happened there, he assured them, which might lead to 
 goodness knew what. Robert showed traces of a desire to 
 take up his former position of authority, and Grace inter- 
 posed by acquainting him with details, fancifully em- 
 broidered, of Mr. Hedley’s adventure. 
 
 “ 6 Heartiest congratulations,” said Robert, in his pompous 
 way. 44 Oddly enough, I ran across my young lady in the 
 first place on the North London. But don’t let that 
 discourage you.” Grace said the theory that marriages 
 were made in heaven would evidently have to be 
 amended. 
 
 [ Even when all had gone, Tom Bannerton, instead of 
 withdrawing from the company of Grace and her sister, as 
 had become his recent habit, stayed with them, and talked 
 of Hedley, and of the suddenness of Hedley’s infatuation. 
 The three agreed that it would be wise and necessary, in 
 Hedley’s interest, to make a fuss over the young woman at 
 
238 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 the Victoria, and invite her to Number Seventeen, where 
 she and Hedley could meet. 
 
 “ 111 go along,” said Grace, “ early to-morrow, and be 
 pleasant to her.” 
 
 The opportunity of acting as matrimonial agent seemed 
 promising ; it appeared Grace’s services were not required. 
 For at the restaurant, on the following day, cook announced, 
 with great perturbation, that the lady — “ so-called,” 
 mentioned cook bitterly — had not returned to duty ; a 
 telegram from the neighbourhood of the docks stated that 
 Miss Kratz had gone for a sea voyage. “In future,” 
 declared cook, raising her hand as one taking the oath, “ I 
 trust nobody, dearie, but you ! ” 
 
 Sir Walter Ferrars, having spoken and listened at the 
 telephone for the best part of a week, found himself selected 
 as the candidate at a bye-election, and in his address referred 
 to the unexpectedness of the call ; the address further 
 hinted that, whilst he felt unworthy of the high compli- 
 ment, no one else had a better claim to it. Tom Bannertjon 
 was wrenched from his work as registration agent before the 
 Revising Barrister at the Town Hall, where he and others 
 were arguing cases, and Lady Ferrars, from the start, gave 
 him direction of the campaign. “ I’ve set my mind on 
 you,” she said firmly, “ and Sir 'Walter will do as I tell him. 
 Always has, and always will.” In Tom Bannerton’s 
 absence, Grace had to carry on the various occupations in 
 the borough which he had undertaken, making herself 
 acquainted with them by the help of deputies and assistants 
 whom she placated by fair words, and a genuine desire to 
 learn. A nurse girl was engaged to guard Master Edmund 
 at home, and to escort him when he took the air. 
 
 “ I rely mainly on you, Alfred,” said Grace, in making the 
 new arrangements. 
 
 “ You couldn’t do better, ma’am,” said the clerk. 
 
 The month being July, there was briskness in the selling 
 of railway tickets, and the office had decorations in the 
 shape of dependent bundles of notices urging the claims and 
 the convenience of sea-side towns ; folk sometimes waited 
 in a line to obtain advice, and to book for journeys. The 
 more adventurous^had ideas of a trip abroad, and Alfred 
 
 
239 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENClf 
 
 gave encouragement. All this newspaper talk of trouble on 
 the Continent, might, he said, be dismissed. The journals 
 had to fill their pages, and too much attention should not be 
 paid to the contents. He referred customers to the engag- 
 ing posters on the walls of the office, which gave delightful 
 scenes of Lovely Lucerne, and Beautiful Brittany, and 
 Sunny Spain ; each with a young woman of the country 
 presenting a broad and ingratiating smile of welcome. Tom 
 Bannerton had, by Lady Ferrar’s directions, taken a room 
 in Sir Walter’s house that he might be at hand during any 
 hour of the twenty-four for political emergencies, and Alfred 
 consented, on his mother’s permission being obtained, to 
 reside for a while at Churton Street ; Grace and Alfred 
 worked late in k the office, and solved and cleared up each 
 night the puzzles and jig-saws of the day. 
 
 It was on the last day of the month that Grace, at nine 
 o’clock, begged Alfred to answer a ring at the telephone. 
 She herself was occupied in verifying a long column of 
 figures. 
 
 ^ It’s Mr. Bannerton,” said Alfred, turning at the 
 instrument. 
 
 “ Take his message.” 
 
 “ He says,” reported Alfred after listening, “ that Sir 
 Walter is, for special and sufficient reasons, backing out of 
 the election affair.” 
 
 “ Gracious ! ” 
 
 Alfred listened afresh, his face red with astonishment, and 
 reported again. 
 
 “ And he says by Monday — Monday next — this country 
 will be at war.” 
 
 <£ That’s rather a bother,” commented Grace Bannerton 
 placidly. “ Hope it won’t last long ! ” 
 
 Tumult, hurry, perturbation, the occupying of County 
 Council schools near by the local regiment, and intermittent 
 marching through Churton Street in the early hours, with a 
 return at dusk. Shopkeepers standing at doorways, and 
 declaring to each other, with great determination that they 
 cannot tell what on earth is going to happen. Recruiting 
 meetings organized by the Mayor, with an entirely new 
 patriotic speech written for the occasion ; speeches also by 
 
240 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 distinguished folk, and the singing of “ Rule Britannia ” by 
 Miss Dunbar. And as Grace is remarking to her sister Kate 
 that their own men folk have, thanks be, useful work to do 
 at home, and is alluding with sympathy to mothers whose 
 sons are going away, in comes Edmund Lennard, in new 
 uniform, with but the time to give his little namesake a kiss, 
 and to announce that he is training at Birdcage Walk, and 
 hopes to go out with an early draft. Has just met Hedley. 
 Hedley uncommonly upset because he is counted too old 
 for military work, and not the less annoyed because he is 
 now convinced that his Miss Kratz was a collector of service 
 information on behalf of her own country. Ere Edmund 
 leaves, and before he has finished chaffing Kate for 
 her regrets at the loss sustained by the theatrical profes- 
 sion — 
 
 They might leave the good-looking actors at home,” 
 she urges. 
 
 — There arrives brother Robert, in company with Hester’s 
 husband, both contemplating enlistment, but not necessarily 
 as an immediate action, and rather desirous to first take 
 every one’s counsel, and particularly to obtain advice from 
 Grace. 
 
 “ Look at Edmund,” she directs proudly. “ See what 
 he’s prepared to sacrifice.” 
 
 “ That settles it,” declared the two. 
 
 “ The best of luck to you all,” says Grace with emotion. 
 
 Tom Bannerton works hard during that month. Un- 
 doubtedly he works hard. The Mayor offers public acknow- 
 ledgment of the fact ; Lady Ferrars, in private talk with 
 Grace, bestows many compliments upon him, and the local 
 ' journals report his activities fully. It being no longer his 
 habit, on returning home, to chat with Grace on the occur- 
 rences of the day, she is surprised near to the end of August 
 to be called by him from her room at the hour of eleven at 
 night. 
 
 “ Hope you don’t mind, dear girl,” he says, smoothing the 
 shoulder of her dressing-gown with a touch of his old 
 manner, “but I shall be leaving you to-morrow. Yes, 
 to-morrow. Some one jerked out from the back of the 
 crowd this evening a personal question, a kind of a challenge, 
 that I couldn’t give a good answer to. So off I go in the 
 
BANNEKTON’S AGENCY 
 
 241 
 
 morning to the recruiting office, and you,” his voice faltered, 
 “ and our little chap, why, you must get on as well as may 
 be. It will be a deuce of a toughish struggle for you, and I 
 can’t help feeling certain it’s impossible for you to get 
 through with it.” 
 
 “ At any rate, dear man,” she said, “ I’ve had practice ! ” 
 
 16 
 
^VM| 
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 HURTON STREET had looked on at melodrama for 
 
 five years, and had moreover taken a share in the 
 
 performance ; two houses at the end of the road and 
 constituting the turn into the main thoroughfare were in a 
 wrecked state, and folk doing business at Number Seventeen 
 still talked gravely of the night when the bomb came down. 
 “ You were about the only one of us, ma’am, who kept her 
 nerve,” and Grace Bannerton admitted that self-possession, 
 at the moment, was but an outer cloak, and that she had 
 really felt deeply concerned for the safety of her boy. 
 Master Edmund, it was said, thoroughly enjoyed the 
 experience, and often afterwards complained that either the 
 unkind ordering of fate, or want of thought on the part of 
 the enemy, prevented a repetition of the incident. 
 
 But here was a day when Churton Street, and every other 
 self-respecting street of the neighbourhood, put off all 
 suggestion of alarm, all hints of suspense, all signals of 
 anxiety. The flags set out on Armistice Day in the previous 
 year were again at every window ; the memorial frame 
 headed, “ Roll of Honour,” was decorated with the newest 
 flowers of spring, and youngsters on holiday from school 
 wore the clothes usually reserved for Sundays, Good Fridays, 
 and Bank holidays. Allowances had been made for them, 
 generous allowances, and they rushed from shop to shop, 
 examining the contents of windows in a feverish desire to 
 get rid of the money grants with celerity. One, a compara- 
 tive stranger to the neighbourhood, ran into the office of 
 Bannerton’s Agency — now more solid and confident in 
 appearance than during early years ; the arousing posters 
 had disappeared, and their places taken by white enamelled 
 lettering, announcing the choicest activities such as Insur- 
 
 242 
 
BANNEBTON’S AGENCY 
 
 243 
 
 ances of All Kinds, and Bents Collected, and Accounts Kept 
 — ran in demanding toys or sweets, or both, and endured 
 subsequently the ridicule of his companions until he pro- 
 duced an enormous slice of cake given to him by the lady of 
 the establishment. Two, putting on an air of extreme 
 innocence tried to emulate the adventure ; they came back 
 with a confession that success had not crowned their efforts. 
 
 “ You can’t take her in,” said the others shrewdly. 
 
 “ But look at His Nibs,” exclaimed one. “ Ain’t he a 
 lad!” 
 
 The six-year-old boy at Number Seventeen (never allowed 
 to mix with all of his contemporaries in the district, but only 
 with a select few) stood at the doorway that London might 
 enjoy the sight’ of his new covert coat and cap ; to the 
 acquaintances op his list, and to the mature who nodded to 
 him genially, he distributed exclusive news. Dad was now 
 on his way. Dad had been out in Mesopotamia — the boy 
 gave the name some extra syllables — all these years. Dad 
 had sent a telegram from Southampton. Dad would be at 
 the public lunch that day. Dad was bringing home some 
 souvenirs. Dad’s letters seldom omitted to declare that he 
 wanted to see his son. All this the boy communicated, and 
 would have added information about the fate of poor Uncle 
 Edmund only that grown-ups, pressed for time on this 
 occupied and important day, said briskly : 
 
 “ We shall all be glad to see your Pa and the others of 
 them again, little man, remember us to your Ma, tell us the 
 rest of your news when we meet again, good-bye, good-bye, 
 good-bye ! ” And hurried on to keep their appointments at 
 the Town Hall, and elsewhere. 
 
 Auntie Kate announced that she was ready to escort her 
 nephew to have a run around. The two set off, after 
 leaving a message to announce their objective, and to 
 mention the precise hour of their return. 
 
 At the Victoria Bestaurant, which boasted the largest 
 flag that Churton Street exhibited, cook entreated for their 
 advice. Kate said it might be wise to keep the establish- 
 ment open, whilst the boy said emphatically, “ Close down 
 for the morning ! ” and cook, declaring that Master Edmund, 
 bless his heart, had more sense than all your grown-ups put 
 together, started to pull blinds. 
 
 16 * 
 
244 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 In the crowded and agitated main road, silk hats were 
 raised to the young woman, and properly reciprocated by 
 her companion ; wearers of the silk hats congratulated 
 Miss Lennard and themselves on the fineness of the day. 
 
 “ Really marvellous,” they declared, glancing approving- 
 ly at the sky. “ Simply wonderful. Just the very weather 
 we wanted. Might have been made specially for the 
 occasion.” 
 
 And expressed the hope that her sister was keeping well. 
 Each of the silk-hatted folk had the air of being alone 
 responsible for preliminary arrangements, and indeed for 
 everything connected with the occasion ; when they met, 
 they conferred apart with the heavy frown of men who, 
 having brought the war to a satisfactory conclusion, had yet 
 much to do in the way of clearing up. Dr. Mallin arrived 
 in his car, and the crowds on the pavement said to each 
 other hopefully that now something would happen. 
 
 Uniformed bandsmen hurried along carrying brass in- 
 struments, and answering the salutations of friends who 
 basked for a space in a reflected glory, and were regarded 
 with deference by people standing near. The Mayor, not 
 yet in robes, came, and acknowledged a cheer ; past Mayors 
 remarked to each other, with a touch of envy, that some 
 men had all the luck. Master Edmund, pulling his aunt 
 hither and thither in the eagerness to miss nothing, found 
 himself obstructing the progress of his Worship. 
 
 “ And who is this smart little man, I wonder ? ” asked the 
 Mayor genially, setting the boy out of the way. “ Has he 
 come to see the soldiers, too ? The brave men who have, 
 day in and day out, for many a month and for several years, 
 been fighting the cause ” 
 
 “I,” «aid the boy, arresting eloquence, “ have come to see 
 my Dad.” Kate gave supplementary information. 
 
 “ Of course, of course ! Captain Bannerton. If I mis- 
 take not, he is down to speak at the luncheon. Quite jfso, 
 quite so. Now look here ! ” His Worship bent down in a 
 paternal fashion. “ Can you take a message from me to 
 your Mamma ? ” 
 
 “If it isn’t too long.” 
 
 “ Tell her, pray, from me that the Mayoress is inviting a 
 few lady friends to occupy the gallery, and she will take it as 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 245 
 
 a great favour if Mrs. Bannerton will form one of the party. 
 One o’clock for one fifteen.” The Mayor’s man approached 
 and whispered a reminder, and the Mayor gave to Kate a 
 nod intimating his desire that she should take the duty of 
 seeing the invitation correctly reported. 
 
 The two hurried back to Churton Street, forcing a way 
 through the densely filled pavements, and at Number 
 Seventeen found Alfred Plowman directing the juniors of 
 the staff in the job of setting papers away neatly ere the 
 office made an early closing. Alfred wore an empty left 
 sleeve pinned to his jacket (the arm had been left at Neuve 
 Eglise in the previous September) ; apart from this, there was 
 little change in him excepting a slight increase in tones of 
 authority used towards the young. 
 
 “ Mrs. Bannerton, miss,” answering Kate’s inquiry, “ is 
 upstairs. Dressing, I believe,” he added modestly, “ but 
 I couldn’t be quite sure.” 
 
 “ Then she won’t be long before she is down.” 
 
 “ I took it upon myself,” remarked Alfred Plowman, “ to 
 recommend that we should give up work for the day.” 
 
 “ You were right, Mr. Plowman.” 
 
 “ The morning post was not, as it chanced, so heavy as 
 usual, and all the communications have been dealt with. 
 And here I may mention that, returning as I did not long 
 since, nothing impressed me more forcibly than the circum- 
 stance there had been no neglect, and I trust that my 
 
 assistance has not impaired ” 
 
 “We were jolly glad,” declared Kate earnestly, “ to see 
 you again, and to have your help. Looking back, I can 
 . scarcely understand how we managed without you.” 
 
 “ It’s a mystery,” agreed Alfred. He gave more direc- 
 tions to the staff, and turned again to Kate. “ The 
 governor will be surprised, I fancy, I rather imagine he’ll 
 be struck all of a heap.” 
 
 “ Mr. Bannerton generally takes matters calmly.” 
 
 “ But I ask you, miss ! ” Alfred became more collo- 
 quial in his eagerness. “ Who’d have dreamt that you two 
 ladies, with nothing more than boys straight from school 
 to give a hand, couldfhave done what you did ? I grant 
 you had the advantage of my knowledge and experience in 
 the first year or so of the war, but when I left to join up it 
 
246 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 did seem, to any impartial observer, that the office was 
 bound to go to pot.”. 
 
 “ And it didn’t.” 
 
 “ The very reverse,” he declared emphatically. 
 
 The small boy rushed to the foot of the staircase im- 
 mediately that he caught sight of his mother. Grace 
 bannerton, well and commendably apparelled for outdoor 
 promenade, raised hands as the purport of the message 
 became clear and the youngster, taking this for a signal of 
 incredulity, summoned his aunt to give corroborative 
 evidence. Grace explained delightedly that in view of the 
 Mayor’s invitation it would be necessary for her to go up- 
 stairs again, and make some improvements in her costume. 
 Kate said no. The boy said no. Alfred Plowman, asked to 
 give an opinion, said that, without professing to be a judge 
 of these matters, he, nevertheless, felt bound to say that 
 Mrs. Bannerton looked simply all right. 
 
 “ Very well,” agreed Grace. “ And now,” briskly to 
 Alfred and to the youths, “ be off, the lot of you, and mind 
 that when the regiment goes by, you’ve got to cheer for all 
 you are worth.” The promises made varied from the 
 elaborate, “ Depend upon me to add my quota,” by Alfred, 
 to the “ Not half, ma’am,” by the youngest. The staff 
 departed, the juniors giving, so soon as they were clear of 
 the doorway, a wild scream of joy at regaining liberty. 
 Grace went around testing the locking up of desks, made 
 sure that the large new safe, in the corner was properly 
 fastened. Kate followed, and gave assistance. 
 
 “ I suppose,” she remarked tentatively to her sister, 
 “ now that your man is home, there will be no need for me 
 to stay on here. What I mean is, I shall probably get the 
 order of the sack.” 
 
 “ We must make no change until he is out of the army.” 
 
 “ They are sending them back to civil life as quickly as 
 they possibly can. I only mentioned it now because it 
 happens that I have three offers.” 
 
 “ Good pay ? ” asked Grace. 
 
 “ No pay at all,” answered Kate. " They are offers of 
 marriage, and I shall take it very kindly of you, Mrs. 
 Bannerton ma’am, if you can refrain from ejaculating 4 At 
 last.’ That, I know, is what most of my friends will say.” 
 
BANNEKTON’S AGENCY 
 
 247 
 
 44 You deserve to get a good husband,’ 5 declared Grace 
 sincerely. 44 You have been a brick of a girl to me all these 
 years that Tom has been away. Take care to select the 
 best one.” 
 
 44 Men,” said the other, 44 are much of a muchness. There 
 isn’t a great deal to choose between them.” 
 
 44 Cynic.” 
 
 44 What I want to avoid, Grace, is the hard experience 
 which came your way.” 
 
 44 Hard experience ? ” echoed Grace in tones of protest. 
 “ My dear child, what are you talking about ? ” 
 
 44 Talking about you. You put in navvy work at the 
 job of training your husband. You succeeded, after taking 
 an infinite amount of trouble, in making a man of him. 
 Now, I know that in my own case I shouldn’t have the 
 ability or the doggedness to do all you have done.” 
 
 44 It is fortunate,” said Grace good temper edly, 44 that I 
 am too happy to-day to argue with you. If I were not, I 
 might point out ” 
 
 44 You could point out as much as you liked, but it 
 wouldn’t alter the facts. What I am wondering is whether 
 he realizes how much he owes to you. Husbands are 
 peculiar in that way. Husbands take credit for all the 
 financial advantages which come to a household. Hus- 
 bands are inclined to forget the . Oh, you can shake 
 
 your head, old girl, but that doesn’t prove black is white.” 
 44 1 only wished to call attention to the circumstance that 
 my son and heir is listening with both ears. Eddie,” to the 
 boy, 44 what have Auntie Kate and I been talking about ? ” 
 44 The war, I suppose, mummie,” he answered ingeniously. 
 44 Lad,” said Kate, 44 you speak more truthfully than you 
 know. But the fight we were discussing is one which will 
 go on until the crack of doom, and all the argument in the 
 world can’t alter it. So far as you are concerned, dear 
 infant, try to bear in mind that your mother is a really 
 wonderful person.” 
 
 44 Does Dad know ? ” he asked. 
 
 44 That,” answered Kate, 44 is just what I should like to be 
 sure of.” She gave the familiar tag. 44 Come, let us away, 
 and join the revels of this blithesome day.” 
 
 Near the Town Hall, as the three approached the building. 
 
248 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 encountering the difficulties that come in mixing with the 
 press of thousands, the conductor of the band received a 
 signal from one of the windows ; a decided movement of his 
 baton arrested the music suddenly, and the scarlet-faced 
 musicians set down their brass instruments. Voices came 
 shrilly now, but the ears of Master Bannerton, already 
 referred to, detected fresh melody in the far distance, and 
 he capered and jigged excitedly. On the steps, the member 
 for the borough chatted agreeably with Sir Walter Ferrars ; 
 the aldermen and councillors were there in robes, the Mayor 
 wore the garments which the local journal would, in due 
 course, describe as resplendent civic attire, and which he, 
 at the moment, referred to as stiffing. Police inspectors 
 conferred with sergeants and sergeants gave orders, and 
 constables, moving forward, said persuasively to folk, 
 
 “ Just a little bit further back, if you don’t mind ! ” The 
 sound of a marching air came nearer ; Master Edmund begged 
 that mummie would not squeeze his hand quite so tightly. 
 Cheering began, and the policemen, clearing a way for the 
 important folk now moving from the steps of the Town 
 
 Hall, said resolutely, “ Further back still, or else ! ” 
 
 London can shout when it cares, but it will not be harried 
 into doing it. At times criticism has been offered concern- 
 ing London’s abilities in this direction, but opportunities 
 had come since the triumphant end of the war, and certainly 
 here, and on this occasion, only the stone-deaf could have 
 discovered any fault. As they cheered, the people surged 
 forward, and, this done, were sent backward, and Grace 
 and Kate and the boy found themselves carried away well 
 out of hearing and not too well placed for seeing. Master 
 Edmund was held aloft, and from this position announced 
 that he could identify one of the officers as bearing * a 
 resemblance to snapshots of his father ; Grace, with the 
 assistance of railings, managed to peer over heads and, with 
 a gasp of joy, confirmed the statement. For the rest, it 
 appeared phrases of welcome were being offered ; a wave 
 of the right arm towards the Town Hall suggested that an ^ 
 invitation was being given, a quick bow from the Colonel 
 hinted at acceptance. The returned soldiers, on a word of 
 command, took up the march, and people rushed through a 
 by-street in order to intercept afresh and enjoy a second 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 249 
 
 performance. Grace ascertained from Alderman Shadburn 
 that the lunch was fixed for one o’clock. The men, after 
 going along the principal thoroughfares, were to return at the 
 hour of the meal, and, the meal over, would be' allowed to 
 visit their homes. 
 
 “ You must be glad, Mrs. Bannerton, to see your husband 
 looking so remarkably brown and well. 5 ’ 
 
 “ Glad to see him in any case, Mr. Alderman.” 
 
 “ I can assure you the borough is thankful to have him 
 back. The responsibilities that have been placed on my 
 shoulders. — The ladies are first of all to meet,” he broke off, 
 dismissing personal grievances, “ in the Mayor’s parlour. 
 I believe a snack of something will be provided to keep you 
 all busy until we are ready for the speeches.” 
 
 “ Good of you to take so much trouble. 5 
 “ We’ve got to ! ” declared the Alderman with frankness. 
 “ Now that you women-folk have the right to vote, we must 
 be a great deal more civil and attentive than of old. These, 
 Mrs. Bannerton, are topsy-turvy days, and now and again 
 I’m not at all certain whether j I am asleep and dream- 
 ing.” 
 
 “ I never knew a time,” said Grace, “ when you were 
 not uncommonly wide awake.” The Alderman went off 
 acutely and openly gratified by the compliment, and 
 returned for an. exchange of remarks, first used long before, 
 and enjoyed by the Alderman because they afforded 
 opportunity for his one bright retort. “ Candidly,” he 
 said,“ how do you think, considering my age, I am looking ? ” 
 Grace answered dutifully, “ I think, Mr. Alderman, you 
 wear uncommonly well.” Whereupon, he, with great 
 mental agility, said, “ Mrs. Bannerton, I still am ! ” and 
 'left in the best possible spirits. 
 
 Proof of Grace’s position in the borough came in the 
 fact that all the defences in the building capitulated at 
 her approach. Mr. Jarford, of Jarford’s Bazaar in Upper 
 Street, Islington, being in possession of no card inviting his 
 attendance, and confessing he was not a resident of the 
 fyorough but had come here on the promptings of curiosity, 
 was being sent to and fro from one door to another in the 
 broad corridor as though he were a tennis ball ; he told 
 Grace he considered it a skimpy repayment for the services 
 
250 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 he had rendered to London on two consecutive nights as a 
 special constable, and the neuralgic pains that had been 
 worsened by his public duties. He was entering on an 
 account of his most recent visit to the dentist when Grace 
 caught sight of Tom Bannerton’s mother, and she excused 
 herself for abrupt departure. 
 
 “ Let me see your card,” she said urgently. The elder 
 lady, greeting her with friendliness, complied with the 
 request. “ Oh but,” declared Grace, “ we must do some- 
 thing better for you than this.” 
 
 “ I shall be quite content, my dear, to be in the public 
 gallery.” 
 
 “ Wherever you and I are placed to-day, we will be 
 together.” She looked around, and saw Lady Ferrars. 
 With her she conferred, and Lady Ferrars said, “ Oh, rather. 
 Bring his mother along, and well all three go in a bunch.” 
 Mrs. Watherston (greatly chastened it seemed by the 
 harrying of misfortune, and willing to be guided by her 
 masterful daughter-in-law) followed obediently. 
 
 In the parlour, the Mayoress, slightly flushed with im- ( 
 portance, and somewhat perturbed by anxiety, hailed 
 Grace in the relieved way of a marooned seaman who 
 perceives a vessel in the offing. “ Keep near, love,” she 
 begged. “ You know everybody, and I know everybody, 
 but where you get the pull is that you can recollect who they 
 are. I’ve already offended two people by calling them 
 out of their name. So do stand by. Won’t be the first 
 time you’ve done me a kindness.” It can be recorded that 
 no further blunders took place at the reception. A whisper 
 from Grace, and the Mayoress welcomed each guest, gave a 
 word or two that furnished proof of accurate recognition, 
 and urged the visitor to proceed direct to the sideboard. 
 The sideboard was mainly responsible for the circumstance 
 that when later the Mayor’s man came with an announce- 
 ment, he failed to make his voice heard above the din of 
 conversation ; he appealed, by a movement of the arms, to 
 Grace, who, by permission of the Mayoress, stood at once 
 on a chair ai\d issued the orders. The ladies made their 
 way in double file ; at the doorway they stopped until the 
 National Anthem finished. As they entered the hall, the 
 men at tables rose promptly, and cheered with vigour. 
 
BANNERTON’S AGENCY 251 
 
 44 Shall I say a few words, love ? ” inquired the Mayoress 
 agitatedly. 
 
 44 Just smile,” directed Grace. 
 
 The company settled down. Some exchanged waves of 
 the hand with the new-comers ; Captain Bannerton scribbled 
 a line on his name card and entrusted it, with precise 
 instructions, to a waiter for delivery. 
 
 “ May I look ? ” asked his mother, of Grace, deferentially. 
 
 44 It only says,” replied Grace, 44 4 My dear wife.’ ” 
 
 44 No husband could say more.” ' 
 
 44 Few husbands should say less.” 
 
 The Mayor differed from a notable predecessor in that he 
 was ready of speech, and not without frank enjoyment of 
 his own eloquence. But he lacked something that is needed 
 to make the perfect speaker, and his voice carried to the end 
 of the hall only at intermittent periods, and this, so far as the 
 ladies were concerned, gave to the address the quality of 
 incoherence. Who among them, asked the Mayor, would 
 forget that eventful and momentous day in August of 
 fourteen when to our astonishment — . Ten minutes subse- 
 quently, a phrase alluded to the change of government at 
 home ; clearly the speaker was making headway. Nothing 
 then reached the ladies’ gallery until a reference came to the 
 single control of the Allied armies ; owners of the sharpest 
 ears mentioned to neighbours that, at the end, congratu- 
 lations were being offered on the part taken in the war by 
 our important and, if the Mayor might say so, historic 
 borough. The reply by the commanding officer came like a 
 sudden artillery attack. He fired his sentences in a resolute, 
 ejaculatory manner that caused glasses to tremble, plates 
 to chink. Deeply touched by warmth of reception. 
 Exceeded highest expectations, most ambitious hopes. 
 Glad to have praise of fellow-citizens. Asked that those 
 who were left behind, set in graves of a foreign land, should 
 be ever remembered. Urged that men, crippled by the 
 war, might be treated generously. Begged to return thanks 
 and to call on Captain Bannerton to propose the only other 
 toast. 
 
 44 1 have,” said Tom Bannerton hesitatingly — Grace 
 fluttered at the sound of the familiar voice — 44 to ask you to 
 drink to the health of the Mayor. (Cheers.) This is a great 
 
252 
 
 BANNERTON’S AGENCY 
 
 moment for all of us, and one to which, we have looked 
 forward. (Hear, hear and a pause.) I find myself out of 
 training in the art of public oratory ; used to be reckoned 
 pretty good at it. What I want to do is to pay a tribute to 
 those of you who helped to win the war by your energy, and 
 your sturdiness, and your good temper at home. Perhaps 
 those of us who, before joining up, were responsible for a 
 business recognize this the most clearly. In my own case, 
 that business, during my long absence, has been carried on 
 successfully, triumphantly under the superintendence of 
 my wife. (Cheers.) Each of us who is married has the 
 best wife in the world (laughter) ; please don’t think I am 
 bragging unduly if I claim that I have the best of the best 
 wives in the world. (Cheers.) God bless her, and God bless 
 us all. Gentlemen, the health of his Worship the Mayor ! ” 
 
 In the entrance hall, as guests came from the lunch, I 
 Grace gave a word of command to her husband’s mother ; 
 the elder woman went forward, and received Tom Banner- 
 ton’s first greeting. Then it was Grace’s turn. Folk 
 looked on with open interest. 
 
 “ Made a rotten speech,” he admitted. “ I didn’t say 
 nearly so much about you as I wanted to say.” He took 
 her elbows, and gazed admiringly and affectionately into 
 her eyes. “ And when I think how much I owe to you ” 
 
 “ Dear sir,” said Grace, offering lips, and quoting 
 from a Churton Street form, “ we have the pleasure to hand 
 you herewith receipt for payment of outstanding accounts ! ” 
 
 
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