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You don't know men as I do, and he can't be up to any good if he talks like that to you." "Oh, very well," said Caroline, looking out of the window. "I can see he's got hold of you," said Mrs. Creddle anxiously. "Oh dear! I don't know what I am to do. I daren't tell your uncle, for there's no saying what that would lead to.
Before she went there at eight and after her return at six, she had helped Mrs. Creddle during the crises constantly recurring in a family of four little girls under twelve years old.
But she did not kiss her aunt, because she instinctively feared that the slightest breath of emotion might upset her self-control. "I bought these off a barrow. Don't know if they'll be sweet," she said. "Can't stop!" "Sit down a minute," said Mrs. Creddle. "You look fit to drop. Aren't you feeling well, Carrie?" "Oh, I'm all right," she answered impatiently. "What's that you are ironing?"
Creddle might be "put out," unhappy, anxious but never coldly indifferent. "Aunt!" called Caroline from the foot of the stairs in the excited voice which she strove to keep calm. Mrs. Creddle emerged from a bedroom, with her usual air of being a little too warm, whatever the weather, and her clear-skinned, jolly face a little perturbed. "What's the matter, Carrie?
It was a bright-coloured company that Caroline saw about the streets as she went along the road towards the familiar row of yellowish-red houses where the Creddles lived. Mrs. Creddle was ironing, and she looked up from the board almost in tears as her niece entered the kitchen. "Oh, Carrie," she began at once, "I thought you'd be coming. I am in such a way.
My word, I am glad I thought of it. I hate keeping you away from the dance." Caroline paused on the threshold. "I don't like wearing other people's clothes," she said doubtfully. "No; but Miss Temple's different. She gives things with such a good heart and she never talks about what she does. I can't see that you need mind her," urged Mrs. Creddle. "There's no time to get another dress.
Lovely night, isn't it?" This was crude but sufficient, and the woman went on, leaving Caroline once more aimlessly pondering. At last she began to walk slowly down the Avenue to the Creddles' house, calling out at the door as usual: "Hello, aunt!" Mrs. Creddle at once came out of the kitchen, her jolly face rather anxious. "You never came near yesterday, Carrie.
Then she began to plan in her mind what she should say to Aunt Creddle, and to picture how that good-hearted woman would take it. At last she remembered her declaration only a few hours ago could it be only a few hours ago? that she would never enter Uncle Creddle's house again. Now, it did not seem to matter.
I won't let you hit yourself." "Here!" said Caroline, putting a parcel down on the table. "I got some kippers as I came past the fish shop. I know Uncle Creddle fancies one with his tea." "You shouldn't have done that, Carrie," said Mrs. Creddle, wiping her eyes. "Kippers is dear nowadays, and I'm sure you have plenty to do with your money." "Nonsense!" said Caroline. "I'm rolling in riches.
Creddle opened the little door of the pay-box, and let in a blast of air that nearly blew her hat from her head; then she hurried down the wind-swept road in order to get her husband's dinner ready before that already irritated breadwinner should return. But Caroline sat down again on her chair and threw open the little window so that the salt air could blow across her face.
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