Three Women and Mr. Frank Cardwell

Front matter

THREE WOMEN AND MR. FRANK CARDWELL Popular 3s. 6d. Fiction. THE INVISIBLE MAN. By H. G. Wells. Second Edition. THE SKIPPER'S WOOINO THE BROWN MAN'S SERVANT. By W. W. Jacobs. Second Edition. THE TYPE-WRITER QIRL. By Olive Pratt Rayner. THE DUKE AND THE DAMSEL. By Richard Marsh. JOHN OF STRATHBOURNE. By R. D. ChetwOde. FORTUNE'S FOOTBALLS. By G. B. Burgin. HER ROYAL HIGHNESS'S LOVE AFFAIR. By J. Maclaren Cobban. THE IRON CROSS. By R. H. Sherard. THE MARQUIS OF VALROSE. By Charles Foley. LUCKY BARGEE. By Harry Lander PAUL BECK: The Rule-of-Thumb Detective. By M. McDonnell Bodkin, Q.C C. ARTHUR PEARSON LD. THREE WOMEN AND Mr. FRANK CARDWELL BY W. PETT RIDGE Author of "A Clever Wife" ; " Secretary to Baync, M.P." etc. Xondon C. ARTHUR PEARSON LIMITED HENRIETTA STREET, W.C. TO MY FRIENDS OF MANY YEARS JOSEPH EDWARD PEARCE AND HENRY HOWARD BULLER CONTENTS. i. EARLY DAYS 7 II. MID-DAYS 93 III. LATER DAYS I EARL Y DA YS

Chapter I

It is considered a point of honour and of duty on the part of every village in the southern counties, with any pretensions to importance, to wake up at least once a year and show the world what it can do when really excited. Sometimes this is called Club Day — which being interpreted, means the annual declaration of existence by the local Friendly Society ; sometimes it is a cricket match, Married versus Single ; sometimes, as at Hurstfield (in a sleepy, somnambulistic way a pushful little village, capable of doing things that made its neighbours sniff disapprovingly), the two were combined. Then it was that martial enthusiasm was aroused by the fact that the Volunteer band preceded the Foresters around the village, halting in front of suitable private residences, there to play fierce, aggressive serenades ; a distinctly imperial flavour came from the fact that at church an Archdeacon preached ; there was gorgeous frivolity in the sight of one corner of Major Willis's meadow being invested with shows and a steam merry-go-round — grounding out a perpetual waltz — and swings.

But all this was as nothing to the cricket match. The Hurstfield carpenter, a man with his own opinion about Mr. Gladstone and his Land Bills, and what was just now more important, one with a most confusing left-hand delivery, had been seen by Frank Cardwell and a close friend practising at the nets at a quarter to six that morning with a grown-up daughter to throw the ball back, and a sinister rumour got abroad amongst the Singles team when the game had begun that the carpenter had been at it all night. " I'm not afraid of any of the others," said Frank Cardwell confidently. He fitted a pad on his right leg, and the close friend hurried to fix it for him. " But the carpenter rolled the pitch himself, and naturally enough he knows every inch of it" Somebody in the tent remarked that Frank Card well had better do his best ; he wouldn't have another chance of playing for them.

" Be ye gween to get married then, me lad ? " "Of course I'm not going to be married." Frank Cardwell was of the youthful age when an allusion of this kind does not cause a youth to flush hotly. This comes later. " What's up wi' ye then ? " Two or three of the team explained. Frank Card well was off to London by the parly in the morning. Going to leave Hurstfield for good. Got a job in a London office. Going to set the Thames on fire. (This last from a flaming red-haired youth who was at once crushed by an obvious retort.) Going to start at twenty-five shillings a week. " And a darn good start too ! I'm fair glad to hear of it, lad. I wish ye well." " We all wish 'im well," said the others awkwardly. Frank Cardwell stood up in the centre of the small tent, tapping the cane handle of his bat on the ground, and feeling some little choking in the throat as he kept his eyes down.

He wished he were older that he might know what to say and how to say it. " The compliments were acknowledged in a neat, racy, and appropriate speech." This had always looked so easy in the weekly Guildford paper. Frank Cardwell thought for a moment or two, and having considered swiftly an attempt at a speech discarded the idea with sensible decision. " I'm — I'm much obliged," he said haltingly " I've known a 'mazin' lot of yoong fellows go up to London one time and the other, and some on 'em got on middlin' and some on 'em didn't get on 't all, and some on 'em got on something hawful. 'T 'ent all beer an' skittles in London. But I never knowed one on 'em as coom back. Good or bad, they allays stayed on there, and " " Now then, yoong Cardwell, you're next." " Third man out ? " asked Frank Cardwell anxiously.

" Caught ! That yer carpenter bowled 'n and caught 'n. Caught 'n wi' his left 'and." I do not think Frank Cardwell's nerves were in their most perfect condition as he walked across the field to the play. He felt confused (but not dis pleased) by the public attention which had been given to him in the tent ; he was anxious to leave the village with the acclamation that nothing could so surely give as an excellent score. There were a dozen salutes shouted at him from the lookers on ; away in the corner the gusty, short-winded organ of the merry-go-round was playing several notes of the Tournez waltz from Madame Angot; on a dog cart out in the road (and this was the chiefest cause for nervousness) was a wavy-haired, yellow-gowned young woman of quite fifteen years of age, with a broad-brimmed hat, whom Master Frank Cardwell had long furtively and silently worshipped, and who was now watching the play with undisguised interest.

" Middle ! " The umpire gave this with much caution, waving his hand that the bat should be moved slightly that way and then slightly this way, and taking a sight of the upright bat with his hand shading his eyes. " Alf a hinch, master, to the left. That's it. That's as nigh as a toucher." The dreaded carpenter (who is also builder and eke undertaker) is for the moment at point, and a mere ordinary bowler is on at the "Three Kings'" end. The ordinary bowler sends down four balls to complete the over, which four balls are just of the kind that Frank Cardwell appreciates, and he sends one for three, another for two, and a third to the wooden fence, where it hides for a time in the stinging nettles and a four is scored. There is clapping of hands from the Single tent, and the other spectators shake their heads knowingly and say to each other that the youngster's all very well, but let him look out now.

Carpenter (say the spectators humorously), carpenter will upset his timber yard for him. If the youngster ain't careful he'll find himself A shout from the field. " Jigger me if he ain't bowled him ! " No ! The postman on the fence is premature in his announcement. It is true that a crafty, deceitful ball, breaking in, has touched the bails, but the bails have not been dislodged, and the umpire appealed to (himself a married man) shakes his head regret fully, to indicate a negative reply to the shout of " How's that ? " Again the unerring carpenter. No, not that. We are all liable to err, and the carpenter being, in spite of conspicuous gifts, only a mortal, pitches the second ball a little to leg, and Frank Cardwell sweeps at it and sends it scudding between the legs of Major Willis, standing well astride for, as it almost seems, the especial purpose of allowing the ball to go through.

Four again. Major Willis is a white-haired, restless, important little man, with many public and, of course, some private virtues ; but he is not a good field, and when, having secured the ball, he throws it well over the wicket-keeper's head — his young daughter in yellow away on the dog-cart applauds this mistakenly, but vehemently — and two more are run for an overthrow, there is murmuring from the married men around the field, and Major Willis's gift of ten guineas to the Friendly Society's fund is forgotten and his popularity for the moment fades. The general feeling is that a man who will throw in a ball like that is a man who will do any thing. Major Willis is himself much annoyed, and is so busily engaged in explaining with tremendous gesticulation to short leg how the unfortunate affair occurred, that, the next hit also coming in his direction, he misses this too, and the postman, who has been left out of the married team because the Major had signified a wish to play, is so satirical about it that he nearly falls off the fence.

" Warland ! Warland ! " A shout comes to the carpenter at the call of " Over ! " from a group of single youths away in the corner, and the carpenter, crossing to take up his position at point, unwarily responds. " Why don't ye bowl 'n out ? " suggests the group of single youths kindly. " Why don't you aim at 's wicket ? " The carpenter has no reply ready for the moment, and does mot indeed think of a repartee for some moments, being a man more adroit in cricket than in speech, and the repartee leaping to his lips as a sharp ball is hit towards him by Frank Cardwell's partner (a solid youth) he is divided between two claims on his attention and fumbles the catch and nearly drops it, and tries for it again and eventually does drop it. " What y' been greasin' your 'ands for, Warland ? " shout the advisers from the corner with renewed anxiety.

" Why don't ye put it on yer 'air ? " The carpenter tastes success presently when he clean bowls the solid youth, sending the bails a distance of yards, and Frank Cardwell, waiting for the next man to come out of the tent, stands in his best attitude, leaning against his bat, and wonders whether the school-girl in yellow, away on the dog cart, is admiring him. He thinks she must do so. Viewing the whole matter impartially, he feels that if she has a heart (and as she is a healthy, sturdy young woman he knows she has) she must surely be watching him with approval. He is glad to think that he alone among the Singles has a complete suit of flannels, and he hopes his cap is straight. When presently he finds a new youth about to face him he glances shyly in her direction, and, seeing that she is bending down to talk to the thin old Archdeacon, straightway determines for Disestablishment " How's that, oompire ?

" The new youth goes back to the tent and another comes out, and he too goes back with equal celerity. When, at the end of the innings, the post-office girl, who, as the most judicial and reliable person in the village, has been scoring, announces the total as a hundred and nineteen, the post-office girl beams through her spectacles and adds that Mr. Cardwell has made of these sixty-one. They cheer Frank Cardwell as this announcement is made and he is gratified, but not so much gratified by this as by the fact that he has been called, emphatically and conspicuously and openly and publicly, Mr. Cardwell. It seems to him like the conferring of a degree. " Now look here, look here, look here." Major Willis bustled up. " Listen to me, listen to me. We shall have to make this a one innings game, don't you know, because " " Pardon me, sir." The captain of the Marrieds touched his cap respectfully.

" Ala's has been a two innin' match." " The dinner will be served in the marquee," said Major Willis definitely, "in the marquee at five, because the Archdeacon has a train to catch. So don't if you please talk any more nonsense to me. Now do let's get on. Why are we all standing here like so many Some one run across to my daughter and tell her not to stay because I shall very probably be batting for some considerable period What ? " Frank Cardwell asked if he should go. " Any one will do," said Major Willis. And bustled off for shandy-gaff, not so much because he wanted it, but because it was a right and sportsmanlike drink for a man about to take up his position at the wicket. Half-way across the green grass field Frank Cardwell slackened pace. He thought he would go back and ask some one else to take the message.

He could not now understand why he had been so daring as to offer to convey it. He felt a definite conviction that he would not get through the ordeal without abasement ; it would be so much wiser not to make the attempt. Once when she had come into the office at Godalming, in which he had hitherto been engaged, he had watched her and had said " Good morning " as she went out with her father, and her father had overwhelmed him with bitterness and had crushed him utterly by turning suddenly and saying : " What's that, what's that, what's that ? " But here he was at the fence. " And when you grow up, my dear," the Archdeacon was saying — " when you grow up, you know " " But I am grown up," said Miss Mary Willis. " You must work about the parish as much as you can and " " I don't like interfering with other people's affairs."

" And assist the Church in every possible way, because " — the Archdeacon smiled as though he per ceived dimly and distantly a humorous conceit — " because you know some day you may fall in love with a curate and " " That," said the young lady loftily, " is quite ridiculous." She turned to Frank. " Do you wish to speak to me ? " Frank clumsily and in an involved way gave the message. " Tell my father, please," she said, " that / shall decide when to return home. And — there's some thing I wanted to say." He stood with his cap off waiting. "You batted very well for the Singles," said the young lady condescendingly ; " of course you were lucky, but still Are you always fortunate ? " It amazed Frank afterwards to think how readily the reply came to his lips. " I am fortunate," he said, " in being praised by you."

The young woman looked at him quite composedly for a moment. " You can run back now," she said. An astonishing innings on the part of the Marrieds. Major Willis so obviously leg before wicket in the first over that even the umpire could only suggest to the bowler that, dealing with him under the First Offenders Act, he should be given another chance ; which chance the Major utilised by hitting a ball for Frank Cardwell, running at great speed, to catch. Major Willis, much annoyed at this, pointed out with some asperity that if young Cardwell had not run so fast he would never have caught it. This was not held to be a vital argument under the circumstances, and Major Willis had to content himself by going across to Frank at long on, and conferring with him seriously in regard to this subject.

" You shouldn't be too eager, my lad," said Major Willis warningly. "There's such a thing as over doing it. I've seen a good deal ofthe world and I've always found " " I am going to see a good deal of the world, sir." " So I hear, so I hear, so I hear. But this, you know, is not the way to make a start. Moderation in all things, if you please." It occurred to Frank Cardwell that perhaps it was not altogether wise to have caught out Miss Mary Willis's father ; obviously it was not an act likely to advance his popularity with the family. So he apologised to Major Willis, and the fussy little man, gratified at this, generously forgave him, and shook hands with him in a patronising way that was quite his own. " Enough said," remarked the Major, " enough said, enough said. Only bear it in mind, don't you know, bear it in mind."

The quick departure of their first batsman seemed to demoralise the married men of Hurstfield. Before the bowling of the carpenter's only rival, a long youth from the general shop, the wickets went down with regularity and dispatch. " What 'd I tell ye ? " demanded the postman, step ping down from the fence at the end of play. It is not too much to say that the dinner in the flapping marquee was creditable in the highest degree to the lady whom the local paper in its report of the proceedings referred to subsequently as "Our Fair Hostess." She was worried a good deal about it all, was Our Fair Hostess, and she upbraided every body even more than was her custom, and declared that the waiters whom she had engaged for the occasion were not worth three halfpence a dozen. But the dinner did arrive at the tables, and roast joints followed fish and boiled joints, and turnips and potatoes followed roast joints, and giant fruit pies and enormous rice puddings followed everything, and at last those who had paid two shillings for the dinner sat back, content with having obtained good value for the money.

There was a special table at one end of the flapping marquee, and Frank Cardwell found himself next the lean old Archdeacon, whom he discovered to be such a very delightful old fellow that he gave up his hastily adopted attitude in regard to State recognition of the Church. The old gentleman be came interested too in the youth, and gave him in an admirable light and casual way good advice, for which Frank promptly and earnestly thanked him and promptly and earnestly forgot. " One toast," said Major Willis, rising and speaking in his staccato way as chairman, " one toast. Always received with 'thusiasm. Reigned number of years. God bless her ! Gentlemen ! The Queen ! " And a shout went up that made the restless canvas flap in a more terrified way than ever. Similarly Major Willis on the Army, Navy, and Reserve Forces begged to say briefly " That this great and glorious country of ours.

Must be defended. Modesty prevents me. From saying much 'bout Army (cheers), although out in South Africa those confounded Zulus (tremendous applause). As 'gards Navy. Most useful branch of Service. Nelson, Collingwood, Drake. And as 'gards Reserve Forces. Beg call 'pon our friend and neighbour — What's his dam name ? Oh yes — beg to call upon Mr. Warland, shining light in Volunteers." Mr. Archdeacon, answering the toast of " The Church," contrived to dodge his subject and to have a pleasant word to say in regard to Frank Cardwell, and at a reference to his score of sixty-one not out there was so much enthusiasm — the diners being, to tell the truth, in the happy state that seizes upon any subject for noisy applause — that the people outside in the meadow left hastily the round-about and the other joys of the fete and hurried to the entrance of the marquee to see what was the matter.

" And I hope " — the excellent old gentleman laid one hand upon Frank's shoulder — " I hope that he will be successful in his new life in that — er — great city where so many of our young men go, and that just as he has scored to-day so he will score in the great game. It is a game that has to be played honestly, and it is a game that has to be played well. You, who know the lad, will wish him a long and successful innings." The renewed cheers had this effect : Frank Cardwell found his eyes full of tears (he would have given all his small savings to have been able to smile round at the long table calmly and equably) ; found, too, that there was just a chance that the noisy Foresters might in their frolicsome mood demand a speech. He rose quietly from his chair and slipped away. He walked a good many miles that evening before arriving at the small house in which he had lived since . his schooldays.

There were some places he desired to see for the last time before he left, and he wanted to get his confused, excited young mind into something like order. The grave moon looked down upon the village, lighting it up as though it wished to call public attention to the frivolity of Hurstfield, and when Frank reached the top of One -Tree Hill he could see on the white roads around him decorous patrons going slowly home, with here and there awkwardly affectionate young people, who took each other's hand and swung it as they walked along, and spoke one sentence nearly every five minutes. He decided presently that he would always think of this evening as the beginning of his life ; whatever happened, he would always remember this. And for the better insurance of this he found himself for the first time in his life taking close observation.

He even noted the words of a song that three young blades returning from the village, full of ale and content, were uproariously singing, and wrote them down on the back of an envelope : — " We live in a cottage, lads, down by the sea — Me and me Moother and Ma-a-ry — As 'appy as 'appy and merry and free — Me and me Moother and Ma-a-ry. I married me wife just a week " The three young Mohawks were not decided about some of the lines, but there was no hesitation in the constantly recurring line which indicated the dramatis personæ. From the site as he passed it on his way back came what seemed to him an entrancing scent of burning naphtha ; the merry-go-round was still screaming out its fragments of a waltz, and the atmosphere was mainly dust. He walked briskly along the road to the village, but slackened his pace as he went down the hill past the Academy for Young Gentlemen where he had learned nearly all that he knew ; he turned to the right into Welcome Lane, where the trees foiled the efforts of the moon, and the twinkle of light from candles in the infrequent cottages could be seen.

As he went his heated young brain was full of thoughts ; ambitious thoughts now that were so crowded that they jostled and fell over each other. "Ho!" said the old lady, with a satirical air of astonishment, " you hev come 'ome then ? Thought maybe you'd started a'ready for London." " I shall have to wake at six, aunt." " What your poor mother 'd 'ave said if she could see you now with all this yer horrid tobacco a stenching the place out, goodness on'y knows. Now then ! " — sharply as the youth essayed to protest — " No back answers ! " " Shall I take the candle, aunt ? " " What 'd I tell you ? " said the old lady to nobody with gloomy triumph. " Ashamed to look me in the face. Slips off up to his room, and hasn't a word to say for hisself. Been trapsing up 'ill and down dale all the day long, and gorging hisself and " " Did you hear what I scored at cricket ?

" " Passel o' nonsense," said the old lady with a little less asperity. " Get off to bed, do. Aven't the patience to talk to you." He heard the old lady resume her usual monologue entertainment consisting of hymns, with an occasional rehearsal of an anticipatory scene with a neighbour. She sang in a queer high falsetto voice, which she reserved specially for the use of serious melody : — " Sun of my sow-ul, Thou Saviour dear, Hit is not ni-yut if Thou — er ah-pear; But " And what pray," in a tone of forced politeness — " And what pray might yew have to say, Mrs. What is-it, about my poor youngest sister's boy ? If yew've got anything to say against him, out with it now, or 'ereafter 'old your peace." Frank Cardwell read for a space a few pages from " Harry Lorrequer," and then he dozed. He was not quite asleep when the old lady, coming quietly up the stairs, looked into the room.

She came, still very softly, across to the bed, and bending down her brown wrinkled old face, kissed him gently on the forehead. " Dang my old eyes," whispered the old lady to herself tearfully, " but I shall miss 'n ! "

Chapter II. Penfold

& Warburton, Solicitors, had their title painted in modest small capitals on the doorway of 89, Cursitor Street, as though to hint they were quiet retiring people, with a few clients in the country and no desire for any addition to their number. Other firms in the building had larger titles, and a new comer had a huge shining brass plate that seemed to elbow all the rest out of the way and insist upon undivided attention. "Don't you" (shouted the brass plate of the new-comer) — " don't you take notice of these other firms ; look at me." Frank Cardwell coming down the wooden stairs at three minutes past six o'clock, found himself the last clerk leaving, and the duty of handing the keys to the housekeeper was his. It was a convention in Penfold & Warburton's that just as the junior Bishop in the House of Lords has to read prayers, so at Cursitor Street the newest junior should carry the keys to the housekeeper, whom the office feared.

" Can't you put them down on the side of the mat, sir?" asked the stout little woman with much acerbity, " or is it too much trouble ? That's right ! " — with gloomy satire — " that's right ! Put 'em down where there's a pool of water and then everybody'll be pleased." " I didn't notice," said young Cardwell apologetically. The housekeeper shifted the square of old carpet which she, Mohammedan-like, carried with her, and knelt down afresh to scrub another space of the entrance. She contrived in doing this to block the doorway ; being indeed anxious to talk, as are most ladies whose opportunities for this diversion are limited. " Some one has to notice," said the stout lady, illustrating on the floor with her wet flannel a new problem in Euclid. " You're noo, ain't you, sir ? " This with annoyance, tempered by a desire for knowledge.

" This is my first day in London." " And you may look back on it," said the housekeeper, wiping her forehead with the back of her wet hand, " you may look back on it and wish it had been your last. Ah, you can smile ! I 'aven't cleaned offices ever since I was thirty-one, and my 'usband foolish like went into a decline, for nothing, I can tell you." Young Cardwell, looking at the address on a large envelope in his hand, remarked politely that a labourer was worthy of his hire. " True," said the housekeeper feelingly. " A better text isn't to be found in the 'ole Bible. Church or Chapel, may I ask, sir ? " Frank Cardwell said Church, he thought. " I don't 'old with overdoing it," said the housekeeper impartially, " either way. There's a young gentleman in an office on the third floor and he's 'Igh Church, and if you'll believe me all through Lent directly he 'ears the tinkle-tinkle of the bell going for service, down goes his pen, <^"goes his office coat, on goes his frock coat, on goes his silk 'at and off he trots.

My word," added the housekeeper, soaping a brush with great fierceness, " it does give me the 'ump to see anybody in such a 'orrible funk about 'Ell." " Will you be kind enough," said young Cardwell, " to tell me where I can take a 'bus for Lancaster Gate, Hyde Park ? " " I'm a 'ard-working woman," said the housekeeper, speaking with much precision, " and I get my living honest. But I am ?iot a London Direct'ry and I 'ope and pray I never shall be. Good evening, sir." When young Cardwell, however, lifted his hat on going down the steps to the street and nodded good humouredly, the stern lady relented and called out to him that he would catch a 'bus from the top of Chancery Lane and another time perhaps he'd know without asking. The housekeeper, still reluctant to allow so courteous a listener to go, said she supposed he had settled on lodgings.

" As a fact," said Frank Cardwell, " I have not. Good night to you." " Not fixed on a place ? " exclaimed the housekeeper with a sudden access of interest. " Well, this seems as though it was to be. There's my two nieces have just got their second floor empty, and if you want to be looked after like a mother you'll go as straight as the crow flies to Robert Street." " And Robert Street is " Jest off the Ampstead Road, sir," said the housekeeper in quite a cordial manner. " 'Andy walking distance from 'ere, along Gower Street — and Gower Street is a nice long street, mind you, that it does anybody good to walk down — Gower Street into George Street — I was in service in George Street," said the housekeeper as an additional recommendation to the route, " when I come to London first, and I shall never forget the first night as long as I live — and there you are."