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"Painful subject," says I, shakin' my head warnin'. But Helma ain't the kind to gloss things over. She speaks right out. "If you please, Miss," says she, "I've no mother, and Daddums has been taken up the bobbies, you know. And I fancy the money he left for my board must have been all used; for I heard the landlady say I'd have to go to a home.
I shakes my head dubious, indicatin' I wa'n't so sure about Daddums. But Vee only tosses up her chin and turns to Helma. "Of course he would!" says she. "What have you in your lap, Child?" The kid pinks up and produces a battered old doll, one of these cloth-topped, everlastin' affairs, that looks like it had come from the Christmas tree quite some seasons back.
"I think so," says she. "Cook says the bobbies came for him. He left word with her that I wasn't to worry, as he'd be let out soon, and I was to stay where I was. Three weeks ago that was, and and I haven't heard from Daddums since." "Huh!" says I. "Listens like a case of circumstances over which But where did you pick up that trick of speakin' of coppers as bobbies?"
Yesterday their sense of strangeness had made silence feel uncomfortable. Now that they slipped back into the old intimacy, it felt companionable. Yet neither was thinking directly of the other. Each was thinking of the woman he loved. By chance their eyes encountered in a friendly smile, and Roy spoke. "Daddums you've come alive! I believe you're almost as happy over it as I am?"
It was awful of the bobbies, wasn't it?" "Looks so from here," says I. "Was it jew'lry that was missin', or what?" "Money, Cook said," says Helma. "Oh, a lot! Fancy! Why, everyone knows Daddums wouldn't do a thing like that. They could ask Sir Alfred. Daddums was with him ever so long since I was a little, little girl." I glances across at Vee, and she glances back.
That's all; but them big eyes of Helma's don't miss it. "You you don't believe he took the money, do you?" says she, wistful and pleadin'. At which Vee reaches over and pats her soothin' on the hand. "I don't believe a word of it," says she. "He's a good Daddums," goes on Helma, spreadin' the last of the marmalade on a buttered muffin.
"More or less the worse for wear, Arabella, eh?" says I. "But how that youngster did hang onto her! Little Helma Allston, you know. And me offerin' to swap a brand-new two-dollar one that could open and shut its eyes! 'It's for Daddums, I says at last, and she gives up. There! Now we're gettin' to it. No wonder Arabella was some plump!" "Well, of all places!" gasps out Mrs.
At all events, he had achieved his declaration of independence. And he had not failed to evoke the "deuce of a row." With a sigh of smothered exasperation, he leaned forward and hid his face in his hands.... The door opened softly. He started and looked up. At the look in his father's face, he hesitated, wrinkling his brows in a way that recalled his mother. "Anything wrong, Daddums?
I I don't like it at all. But it costs such a lot to get to Australia, and Daddums hasn't been well, he's had a cold on his chest, and he's been afraid he would lose his place and have to go to a hospital. Just before he was taken up, though, he told me we were to sail for Melbourne soon. Daddums had found a way." This time I took care that Helma wa'n't lookin' before I glances at Vee.
"Egypt mostly, and then down in Devon. You see, Sir Alfred used to let Daddums take me along. Head butler, you know, Daddums was until the war. Then Sir Alfred went off with his regiment, and Haldeane House was shut up, like so many others. Daddums was too old to enlist, and besides there was no one to leave me with. So he had to try for a place over here. I I wish he hadn't.
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