A Humble Enterprise - The Original Classic Edition. Ada Cambridge
proud and happy to make your acquaintance. And let me say that success is assured to an enterprise undertaken in such a spirit and with so much good sense. I don't know when I have been so interested as in seeing this young lady--this delicate young creature"--indicating Jenny, who was as tough as perfect health and an active life could make her--"turning to, and setting her shoulder to the wheel, in this--this gallant fashion. Your husband, ma'am, was one of the best of men and gentlemen--I always knew that; but I did not know that he was so blessed in his family. I
did not, indeed."
"You know his son, sir," murmured the widow, who was very proud of her handsome boy.
"Your son," said Mr. Churchill, "is very well--a very good son, I make no doubt; but he's not half the man that your daughter is. My dear, I mean that for a compliment, though it may not sound like one." He gazed at Jenny's now smiling face, and added abruptly, "It was you who wouldn't be beholden to us for a trumpery hundred pounds, wasn't it?"
She looked down, and again coloured violently.
"Ah, I see. You felt yourself grossly insulted. I am sure you did."
"Oh, no, no," the mother eagerly interposed. "Pray don't think that. We were all most grateful--indeed, we were. But Jenny
said----"
"Yes, I understand. Her name is Jenny, is it? I think I can guess what Miss Jenny said. She's as proud as Lucifer--I can see that; but
I honour her for it. I honour you for it, my dear. It's the sort of pride that a good many would be the better for. You are a born lady,
my dear, and that's the short and the long of it."
Then he asked to be shown the premises, and the happy women took him over them, and displayed all their economical contrivanc-es, which quite bore out his preconceptions of Jenny's excellence as a business manager and a woman. He attributed it all to Jenny, and indeed it was her hands which had made the frilled curtains and the restful chair cushions, and devised whatever was original in the commissariat arrangements. Mrs. Liddon's kitchen was her own great pride, and also her store of new-made scones, which were as light as feathers.
"You must give me some tea and scones," said Mr. Churchill, "that I may taste what they are like. I must do that, you know, before I
recommend them to my friends."
"Of course," said Jenny; and she quickly arranged a table, with two scones on a plate and a tiny pat of iced butter; and her mother
handed her a small, hot teapot from behind the screen.
"Earthen pots seemed sweeter than metal, for so much use," she said, placing it before him; "and we thought these trays nicer to eat from than anything else we could afford. Both are liable to break, but they were cheap."
"They would have been cheaper," he said, "if you had come to me. Mind you come to me when you want some more."
Then he ate and drank and smacked his lips, gravely, as if judging wine for experts. The women hung upon the verdict with trem-
bling anxiety.
"Excellent," he exclaimed, "excellent! Never tasted better tea in my life--nor scones either. And butter delicious. Keep it up at this, my dear, and you'll do. I'll send everybody I know to have tea with you, if you'll only promise to keep it up. All depends on that, you
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know."
"I know," said Jenny. "And that we may do it, we have undertaken nothing but tea and scones at present. By-and-by we will have cof-fee, and, perhaps, cakes and other things. But at present, doing everything ourselves, we have to be careful not to get muddled--not to try more than we can do well. We can't run out of tea and scones, nor need we waste any. Mother can make a batch in a quarter of an hour, if necessary."
"Good," said the merchant, to whom the smallest details were important in matters of business; and he began to fumble in his pocket. "Who's the cashier?" he asked.
"I am," replied Sarah, from behind her little table, on which stood two wooden bowls and neat piles of paper tickets. "And what's to pay?" he inquired, advancing with his hand full of loose silver.
"Sixpence," said she shyly.
"Sixpence," he repeated, with a meditative air, "sixpence; yes, that will do. Neither too much nor too little--though that's expensive tea. When you want a fresh stock of tea, Miss Jenny, let me know, will you? Come, you needn't hesitate; I'm not offering to give it to you. I'm as much a business man as you are."
"You are very good," murmured Jenny; "and I will."
He took change for the shilling, which was his smallest coin; and then he began to think it time to return to his office, from which
he had been absent nearly an hour. As he was stumbling downstairs, after warmly shaking hands with the family, he met his daughter
coming up.
"What! you, Mary?" he exclaimed, for he had forgotten all about her.
"What! you, father?" she responded. "Are you here before me? That is kind of you. Oh, I'm so tired! Two frocks in one morn-
ing! But I suppose I ought to be thankful that she'll do them. Is the tea really good, father? If it is, I think I'll make my lunch here, instead of going home, and Maude can pick me up at the office when she comes in this afternoon. Telephone to her when you go back, and say so, will you, dear?"
"I will," said Mr. Churchill. "And the tea and scones are all that they profess to be. A charming little place, and people too. Come, I
will introduce you before I go."
He took her in, introduced her, and left her. She stayed till nearly one o'clock, talking much as her father had done, with all his kindness and her own more dignified reserve, and rejoined him at the office, after some shopping, much impressed with Jenny. Later, Mrs. Churchill, resplendent, drove into town, and her big carriage got itself into Little Collins Street, and she was made to take tea
and scones in her turn, and found them so excellent that she spent the rest of the afternoon in talking about them to her friends, and about the pretty, poky place that was so sensationally opposed to all one's ideas of a restaurant. It was the amusement of the day, and resulted in making the tea-room fashionable.
CHAPTER IV THE HERO
The junior Churchill partner returned home next day from a six months' trip, and the house at Toorak was much excited by the event, for he was a great man in its eyes. He lived an independent life at the club and in a suite of sumptuous chambers in East Melbourne, when on this side of the world, but was received by his father and stepmother on his first arrival, and entertained until his own establishment was ready for him. His stepmother, before she was his stepmother, had badly wanted to be his wife, and it was a source of extreme satisfaction to her that he still remained unmarried and disengaged, though thirty-five last birthday, and one of the greatest catches in the colony. She never would have a pretty governess in the house, lest Anthony should be tempted; and she kept
a sharp eye upon the girls who sought and sighed for him--their name was legion--when able to do so, and systematically circumvented them. He was too good, she said, to be thrown away. In other words, it would be too dreadful not to have him at dinner on Sundays, and in and out of the house all the week through, petting her (in a strictly filial manner), and escorting her about when his father was busy.
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"People talk of the troubles of stepmothers," she used to say, with her most maternal air. "I have never had any trouble. My stepchil-
dren never objected to me for a moment, and they are just the comfort of my life."
Of the two, Anthony was her greatest comfort; he was always there--when he was not in England. Mary Oxenham was a dear woman, but she seldom came to town.
Mary and her father went to meet the ship that brought Anthony back. Mrs. Churchill stayed at home, to put flowers into his bedroom, and be ready to welcome him on the doorstep in a twenty-guinea tea-gown, designed on purpose. The boat, they had been informed by telephone from the office, was expected at five o'clock, but when Mrs. Oxenham called for her father