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Updated: May 3, 2025
By the first hansom available Joseph was driven right across London to a certain dull street in Chelsea. Before dismissing the vehicle he knocked at the door of a lodging-house and made inquiry for Mr. Scawthorne. To his surprise and satisfaction, Mr. Scawthorne happened to be at home; so the cabman was paid, and Joseph went up to the second floor.
Bessie busied herself affectionately in removing Jane's hat and jacket, then withdrew that father and child might converse in private. Joseph looked at his daughter. His praise of her was not all mere affectation of sentiment. He had spoken truly when he said to Scawthorne that, but for Clem, he would ask nothing better than to settle down with this gentle girl for his companion.
In his shabby little room Scawthorne sat smoking and reading. It was a season of impecuniosity with him, and his mood was anything but cheerful. He did not rise when his visitor entered. 'Well now, what do you think brings me here? exclaimed Joseph, when he had carefully closed the door. 'Hanged if I know, but it doesn't seem to be particularly bad news.
On the way they exchanged a few insignificant remarks, having reference to a former intimacy and a period during which they had not come across each other. Established in a semi-private room, with a modest stimulant to aid conversation, they became more at ease; Mr. Scawthorne allowed himself a discreet smile, and Joseph, fingering his glass, broached the matter at issue with a cautious question.
'To tell you the whole truth, however, I happened to hear news of you a few days ago. I met Grace Rudd; she told me you were here. Some old friend had told her. Grace's name awoke keen interest in Clara. She was startled to hear it, and did not venture to make the inquiry her mind at once suggested. Mr. Scawthorne observed her for an instant, then proceeded to satisfy her curiosity.
Jane feared it might be a complaint. In a perfectly natural way she walked forward. Scawthorne came in her direction, and closed the door. The interview lasted ten minutes, then Jane came forth and with a light, quick step ran up to the floor above. She did not enter the room, however, but stood with her hand on the door, in the darkness.
What's more, I'll make my will on your marriage-day and leave everything I've got to you and her. There now! 'What makes you so benevolent all at once? inquired Scawthorne, blandly. 'Do you think I've got no fatherly feeling, man? Why, if it wasn't for my wife I'd ask nothing better than to settle down with Jane to keep house for me. She's a good girl, I tell you, and I wish her happiness.
She never met his look, never smiled. From entering the theatre to leaving it, she had a high flush on her face. Impossible to recognise her friend in the actress whom Scawthorne indicated; features and voice were wholly strange to her. In the intervals, Scawthorne spoke of the difficulties that beset an actress's career at its beginning. 'I suppose you never thought of trying it? he asked.
There was you and me knocking our heads together and raising lumps on them, as you may say, to find out a plan of keeping him and Jane apart, when all the while we'd nothing to do but to look on and wait, if only we'd known. Now this is what I call the working of Providence, Scawthorne. Who's going to say after this, that things ain't as they should be?
'I wonder what's become of her? continued Joseph, still observing his companion, and speaking with unmistakable significance. 'Just tell me something about this, said Scawthorne peremptorily. Joseph complied, and ended his story with a few more hints. 'I never saw her myself at least I can't be sure that I did. There was somebody of the same name Clara a friend of Polkenhorne's wife.
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