Christian life -- Fiction; City and town life -- Fiction; England -- Social conditions -- 20th century -- Fiction
He had left to Anthony the search for new premises. Anthony was
still undecided when something unexpected happened. The younger Miss
Warmington, after a brief illness, died. Mrs. Plumberry had nursed
her, and at Anthony’s request consented to call at 15 Bruton Square
and find out how the land lay. It would be the very thing. It had two
large class-rooms built out into the garden. Mrs. Plumberry was a born
diplomatist. She reported that Miss Warmington, now absolutely alone
in the world, had cried a little on Mrs. Plumberry’s motherly shoulder;
had confided to Mrs. Plumberry that the school had been going down
for some time past; that she had neither the heart nor the means to
continue it. Mrs. Plumberry’s advice to her had been that she should
get rid of the remainder of her lease, if possible, and thus avoid
liability regarding covenants for reparation. Miss Warmington had
expressed the thankfulness with which she would do this, that is if a
purchaser could be found; and Mrs. Plumberry, though not holding out
much hope, had promised to look about her.
Thus it came to pass that once again Mrs. Strong’nth’arm and Anthony
were ushered into the drawing-room of 15 Bruton Square and rested on
its horse-hair-covered chairs. But this time Mrs. Strong’nth’arm sat
well back; and it was Miss Warmington who, on entering, held out her
hand. Mrs. Strong’nth’arm, imagining beforehand, had intended not to
see, but second nature again was too strong. Miss Warmington, though
old and feeble, was still impressive, and Mrs. Strong’nth’arm curtsied
and apologized for intrusion.
Miss Warmington smiled as she shook hands with Anthony.
“You were a little boy when I saw you last,” she said, “and you sat
with your leg tucked under you.”
“And he wouldn’t come to your school when you asked him to,” interposed
Mrs. Strong’nth’arm. She had made up her mind to get that out.
Miss Warmington flushed. “I think he was very wise,” she said. “I hear
quite wonderful accounts of him.” Anthony had closed the door and
placed a chair for her. “And I see he has learned manners,” she added
with another smile.
Anthony laughed. “I was very rude,” he admitted, “and you are a very
kind lady to forgive me.”
The business, so far as Miss Warmington was concerned, was soon
finished. She wondered afterwards why she had accepted Anthony’s offer
without even putting up a fight. It was considerably less than the
sum she had determined to stand out for. But on all points, save the
main issue, he had yielded to her; and it had seemed to her at the
time that she was getting her own way. They had kept up the fiction of
the business being between Mrs. Strong’nth’arm and Miss Warmington,
Anthony explaining always that it was his mother who was prepared to
do so and so--his mother, alas! who was unable to do the other, Mrs.
Strong’nth’arm confirming with a nod or a murmur.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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