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Updated: May 4, 2025
"But I told your uncle I could trust you, and I do." "Oh, he's gone to the Buffaloes," said Mrs. Creddle; and though her tone implied contempt and disapproval, it was but the natural prejudice of all good women for an institution purely masculine.
Don't you know that men always talk like that when they want to get over a girl?" She moved restlessly in her seat, turning to Winnie: "This is a silly film." But she had to go on thinking about it. Supposing Aunt Creddle were right? No, she couldn't be!
For the first time in years, she consciously wanted her own mother longed for her with an ache of the heart that almost brought tears. She seemed so alone. Aunt Creddle was goodness itself, but had her own family to think of first, of course, and could no longer take quite such a vivid interest in a niece as when her own children were quite little.
"I didn't lose the key on purpose," said Caroline rather sullenly, as she followed her aunt into the warm, light kitchen. "I couldn't help it." "What made you so late in?" said Mrs. Creddle. "Here, sit you down and I'll get you a drink of cocoa. Girls never used to be having latch-keys and careering about at all hours in my day."
I'm going to stop here and sleep on the sofa," said Caroline defiantly. "Hush, Carrie," pleaded Mrs. Creddle anxiously. "That isn't the way to speak to your uncle, you know. He only means it for your good." Mr. Creddle reached for his boots. "I won't have her stop out all night," he repeated. "What would your mother ha' thought if you'd done such a thing when you were in service?"
For suddenly the phrase which she had seen there on the film flashed across her mind with such vividness that it seemed to be written in dancing, bright letters across the sunshiny street: "I swear I want to marry you." She felt dizzy, then it passed. It was true enough, of course. Men did always say that, as Aunt Creddle had told her.
All the houses in Emerald Avenue were in darkness, but on nearing the Creddles she saw a little glimmer of light through the glass pane of the front door. It was as she had hoped, for in response to her knock, Mrs. Creddle herself unchained the door and peered out into the dark. "Is that somebody from Mrs. White's?" she asked.
"But it isn't your day now, thank goodness!" said Caroline, who was feeling excited and irritable. "I had a dance on the green after I came off duty, that was all." "Prom's been closed a long time," said Mrs. Creddle. "I heard the next-door folks come back. But we was all young once, and I dare say you and Wilf have been kissing and making friends again on the way home. Is that it?"
Uncle Creddle had a steady kindness which nothing could change, but he too was a struggling man with a family. Besides, he was rather hard in some ways beneath his good-nature. She still remembered how he had spoken to her that evening when he found her screaming and playing about those empty houses with the boys. No, she belonged nowhere: that was it.
Creddle, and I'm wearing it because Aunt burnt a frock of mine." "Lucky thing she did," said Wilson easily. "I can't quite see Mrs. Creddle in this gown at least, if she is the lady I have encountered at Miss Wilson's." "Ha! ha!" laughed Wilf, feeling he owed it to his own dignity to assert himself and join in somehow, but finding a difficulty in beginning. "Miss Temple didn't mean it to be worn.
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