What Timmy Did

by Marie Belloc Lowndes

  CHAPTER XX

  However long Radmore lives, he will never forget that strange drivethrough the autumn night. Fortunately, from the two conspirators' pointof view, there were only old-fashioned stables at Old Place, andRadmore's car was kept in the village in a barn which had been cleverlytransformed by the blacksmith into a rough garage.

  While he dressed, and, indeed, after he joined the boy downstairs, he hadpuzzled over Timmy--over the mixture of cruelty and kindness the childhad shown that evening. He could not but recall, with a feeling ofdiscomfort, the simple, innocent way in which the boy had explained whyhe wanted to take his cat, Josephine, into the drawing-room--reallyto do a kindness to the mistress of The Trellis House! It was somewhatdisagreeable to reflect how he, Radmore, who rather prided himself onhis knowledge of human nature, had been taken in.

  Off the two started at last, creeping out of one of the back doors. Butin his agitation over the business of getting the cat and her kittenssafely out of Old Place, Timmy had forgotten to put on a coat. Theywere halfway down the avenue before Radmore noticed that the boy wasshivering, and then, mindful of Janet, he ordered him to go back and getthe warmest coat he could.

  And then, while he waited impatiently in the avenue, Radmore visualisedthe extraordinary scene which had taken place in the drawing-room lastevening. Had the cat really seen anything of a supernatural nature? Orwas it only that she had been frightened by being suddenly brought intoa room full of people? If so, it was perhaps natural that she had blindlyflown at the one stranger there.

  At last Timmy returned, and they started off, neither speaking a worduntil they were clear of the village. Radmore thought he knew every inchof the way, for he and Betty had once cycled together all over thecountryside. He checked a sigh as he thought of those days--how happy hehad been, with that simple, unquestioning happiness which belongs only toextreme youth. He wondered if Betty ever remembered those far-off days.They had come very near, the one to the other, last evening, and yet,from his point of view, theirs was an unsatisfactory kind of friendship.It was as if she was always holding something back from him. And then,while he was thinking of Betty, the little boy sitting by his sidesuddenly observed:

  "Perhaps we might tell Betty--I mean when we get back again--whereJosephine and her kittens are? She was awfully upset last night; almostas upset as I was. You see, Josephine's a French cat. She was broughthome--I mean to England, you know--by the officer who now wants to marryBetty." Timmy uttered these words in a very matter-of-fact voice. Then,for a moment, he forgot Betty, for the car swerved suddenly.

  "The officer who wants to marry Betty?" repeated Radmore. "I didn't knowthere was an officer who wanted to marry Betty."

  "Nobody's supposed to know," said Timmy composedly. "But Mum and I, aswell as father, know. Only a very vulgar sort of girl lets anyone knowwhen someone wants to marry her. Mr. Barton is so ridiculous about Dolly,following her about and always looking at her, that we all know it,though Mum wonders sometimes if he knows it himself. But neither Dollynor Rosamund knows about Betty's man. Luckily, they were away when helast came here and saw father. The first time Betty meant him to sendthe kitten in a basket from London. She even gave him the money forJosephine's fare, but he _would_ give it back to father. He brought herhimself because he wanted to see father, and talk to him about Betty andGeorge."

  "Then he knew George, too?"

  "Yes, that's how he got to know Betty, when she was in France, you know,and why she gave him the kitten to bring home on leave. He knew all about_us_, and when father called me into the study to take Josephine, hesaid: 'Is this Timmy?' And then after that he just went straight on aboutBetty, as if I wasn't there. He said that if he got through, he meant towait--he didn't mind how long, if only Betty would say 'Yes' in the end."

  "Has he been here since Betty came home?" asked Radmore abruptly.

  Somehow this revelation astonished and discomfited him very much. It hadnever occurred to him that Betty might marry.

  "No," said Timmy. "He has never come again, for he's in Mesopotamia; buthe writes to Betty, and then she writes back to him. You see he was afriend of George's--that makes her like him, I suppose."

  They drove on for a while in silence, and then Timmy enquired, ratheranxiously: "You won't tell Betty I've told you, will you, Godfrey? Idon't think she wants anyone to know. He sent me a lovely picturepostcard once--it was to Timmy Tosswill, Esq.--and then I asked Bettywhether she meant to marry him, as he was such a nice sort of man. Shewas awfully angry with me for knowing about it, and she began to cry. Soyou won't say anything to her, will you?"

  "No, of course I won't," said Radmore hastily.

  They were now emerging on the wide sweep of down commanding the littleold country town which stands to the whole world as the racing capital ofEngland. To their left, huge and gaunt against the night sky, rose theGrand Stand.

  "Where does Trotman hang out?" asked Radmore. "Shan't we have a devil ofa difficulty in knocking him up?"

  "I don't think we shall," said his small companion, confidently. "You seethere must always be some sick animal for someone to sit up with. I'drather be nurse to a dog than to a woman, wouldn't you?"

  They turned into the steep road leading into the town, flashing pastshuttered villas set in gardens, till they reached a labyrinth of quaint,narrow, walled thoroughfares dating from the 18th century.

  "We're very near now," said Timmy. "Isn't it funny, Godfrey, to feel thateverybody's asleep but us?" They had come to a corner where high wallsenclosed what might once have been the kitchen garden of a Georgianmanor-house.

  "Here it is!" cried the boy.

  Radmore stopped the car and then he jumped out and struck a match. Overa door, set in the wall, stood out in clear lettering the words, "JohnTrotman, Veterinary Surgeon." Feeling a little doubtful of what theirreception would be like, he pulled the bell. There was a pause, a longpause, and then they heard the sound of light, quick footsteps, and thedoor was unlocked.

  "Who's there? What is it?" came in a woman's voice, and a quaint figure,dressed in a short, dark dressing-gown, and looking not unlike Noah'swife, appeared holding a lantern in her hand. She had a kindly, shrewdface, and when Radmore said apologetically, "I'm sorry to disturb you,but the matter is really urgent, and we've brought a sick animal manymiles in order that it may benefit by Mr. Trotman's skill," her facecleared, and she said cordially: "All right, sir, come right in."

  As they walked along through a curious kind of trellised tunnel, Timmycarrying Josephine and her kittens, there arose an extraordinary chorusof sounds in which furious barking predominated.

  "You have a regular menagerie here," said Radmore, smiling.

  "Why, yes, sir," she answered simply, "but they'll all quiet down after abit. They're startled like, hearing strange footsteps."

  She led them into the house, and so through into a pleasant littleparlour, full of the good 18th Century furniture which may still be foundin the older houses of an English country town. Sporting prints--some ofconsiderable value--hung on the walls. There was still a little firealight in the deep grate, throwing out a warmth that was comforting toboth the man and the boy.

  "If you'll wait here, I'll get my husband."

  While Mrs. Trotman had left the room, Radmore remarked: "I've made up mymind what to say to Trotman, so please don't interrupt."

  And Timmy listened silently to the explanation his godfather gave ofJosephine's strange behaviour of the night before. It was an explanationthat squared with the facts--at any rate, according to the speaker'spoint of view--for Radmore told the famous vet that the cat, upset by thesight of a strange dog, had flown at a lady and bitten her. He addedfrankly that the doctor had suggested that the animal should be keptunder observation, and then he managed to convey that money was noobject, as the cat was a cherished pet sent from France during the War.

  Everything was soon arranged, for Mr. Trotman was a man of few words.Radmore gave his own name and the address of Old Place, and then, jus
tbefore leaving the house, he put down a L5 note on the table.

  The sturdy, grizzled old man took up the note and held it out to his newclient. "I'd rather not take this, sir, if you don't mind," he said alittle gruffly. "We'll send you in a proper bill in due course. Youneedn't be afraid. The cat shall have every care, and of course, ifthings should go wrong--you know what I mean--I'll at once give you atelephone call. But, as far as I can tell, you're right, and it was justfear for her young made her behave so." He turned to his wife. "Now then,mother, you just get back to bed! I'll see to these gentlemen, and topoor pussy."

  They shook hands with Mrs. Trotman, and then the famous vet took themdown the trellised path and stood in the doorway till they got into thecar.

  "I'm glad to have met you, Mr. Trotman," Radmore called out heartily."I'd like to come over here one day, and go over your place."

  As they raced up towards the Downs, Radmore suddenly turned to Timmy:"The more time goes on, the more it's borne in on me that there's nothinglike the old people of the old country." And as the boy, surprised, saidnothing for once, he went on, "I hope that the stock won't ever giveout."

  "How d'you mean?"

  "Well, take those two people, that man and woman. We get them out oftheir warm, comfortable bed in the middle of the night, they knowingnothing about us, except that we bring a cat which may be mad; and yetthey take it all in the day's work; they're civil, kindly, obliging--andthe man won't take money he hasn't earned! I call that splendid, Timmy.You might almost go the world over before you'd find a couple likethat--anywhere but in England."

  * * * * *

  They drove on and on, and then all at once, Radmore, glancing down to hisleft, saw that Timmy had fallen asleep. Now Timmy, asleep, looked like anangelic cherub, and so very different from his usual alert, inquisitive,little awake self. And there welled up in Radmore's heart the strangestfeeling of tenderness--not only for Timmy but for the whole of theTosswill family--not only for the Tosswill family, but for the whole ofthis sturdy, quiet, apparently unemotional world of England to which hehad come back.

  The human mind and brain work in mysterious ways. Radmore will neverknow, to the day of his death, the effect that this curious night drivehad on the whole of his future life. He was not a man to quote poetry,even to himself, but to-night there came into his mind some words he hadheard muttered by a corporal in Gallipoli:

  "What do they know of England Who only England know?"

  When he had left his homeland, now nearly ten years ago, he had been in abitter mood. It had seemed to him that his own country was rejecting himwith scorn. But now his heart swelled proudly at the thought of the oldcountry--of all that she had endured since then. He had thought Englandaltered and very much for the worse, when he was in London on his twobrief "leaves" during the War, but now he knew how unchanged his countrywas--in the things that really matter....

  When he had come back for good, this summer, he had looked forward to aneasy, selfish life--the sort of life certain men whom he had envied as aboy used to lead before the war.

  Radmore knew, as every man who has lived to the age of thirty-two mustknow, that marriage brings with it certain cares, responsibilities, andtroubles, and so he had deliberately made up his mind to avoid marriage,though he had been conscious the while that if he fell violently in love,then, perhaps, half knowing all the time that he was a fool, he mightfind himself pushed into marriage with some foolish girl, or what wasperchance more likely, with a pretty widow.

  To-night he realised with a sort of shame that there were moments--hewas glad that they were only moments--when he felt uneasily yet stronglyattracted to Enid Crofton, and that though he knew how selfish, howself-absorbed and, yes, how cruel she could be. For well he knew she hadbeen cruel to her elderly husband. He was sorry now that she had come toBeechfield. She had become an irritating, disturbing element in his life.

  Radmore had looked at every eligible property within a radius of twentymiles of Old Place, but though some of them did not fall far short of theideal he had in his mind, he hadn't felt as if he wanted any of them.They were too trim, too new--in a word, too suburban. Even the very oldhouses had been transformed by their owners much as The Trellis House hadbeen transformed, into something to suit modern taste. He told himselfthat he must begin looking again--looking in real dead earnest, goingfarther afield.

  Absorbed in his thoughts, he had driven on and on, almost mechanically,till suddenly they came to four cross-roads. He drew up under asign-post, jumped out and struck a match, and as he read the paintedwords he realised, with vexation, that he had gone a good bit out of hisway. There was nothing for it now but to go on till they struck thePortsmouth Road. It was the quietest hour of the twenty-four, and it wasvery unlikely they would meet with anyone who could put them right.

  And then, while going up a lane, which he knew to be at any rate in theright direction, he came to a park gate. Just within was a lodge, and inone of the windows of the lodge there shone a light. Again Radmorestopped the car and jumped out, Timmy still heavily asleep.

  He went up to the door of the lodge and rapped with his knuckles. Itopened and revealed a young woman, fully dressed. "What do you want?" sheexclaimed, in a frightened voice.

  "I've lost my way," he said, "and seeing a light in your window, Iventured to knock. I've no idea where I am--I want to get to Beechfield."

  "Beechfield? Why, you're nigh forty miles from there," she said,surprised.

  "Can you tell me how I can get on to the Portsmouth Road?"

  "Aye, I think I could do that; but stop your engine, please--I've alittle girl in here as is very ill."

  He ran out and did what she asked. Then he came back, and as she took himinto her tiny living-room, he saw that there were tears rolling down hertired face.

  "Is your child very ill?" he asked.

  She nodded. "Doctor says if she can get through the next two days she maybe all right."

  "Is your husband with you?"

  She shook her head. "I'm a widow, sir; my husband was killed in the War.I'm only caretaking here. When the house up there is sold, they'll turnme out."

  "I'm looking for a country house. Perhaps I'll come over and see it oneday. Is it an old house?"

  "Well," she said vaguely, "it isn't a new house, sir. It's a mighty fineplace, and they do say it's going dirt cheap." And then she added slowly,"There's a map hanging in the kitchen. It was hanging up yonder in theservants' hall but I brought it down here, as so many people asks theway."

  It was an old-fashioned country road map, and Radmore, bending down, sawin a moment where he was, and the best way home; and then feeling in aqueer kind of mood, a mood in which a man may do a strange and unexpectedthing, he took out of his pocket the L5 he had offered to Mr. Trotman.

  "Look here," he said, "I'd like you just to take this and get your littlegirl whatever you think necessary when she's on the mend. She'll want alot of care, eh?"

  Twice the woman opened her mouth, and found she couldn't speak.

  He held out his hand, and she squeezed it with her thin, work-wornfingers. "I do hope God will bless you, sir!" she said. And he went backto the car, feeling oddly cheered.

  * * * * *

  It was past five when Radmore and Timmy crept like burglars through oneof the back doors of Old Place. He sent the boy straight up to bed, buthe himself felt hopelessly wide awake, so he went out of doors again,into Janet's delightful scented garden, and tramped up and down a bit toget warm. Suddenly he knew that he was hungry. Why shouldn't he go intothe scullery and brew himself a cup of tea?

  As he went into the kitchen, he saw on the table a kettle, a spiritstove, a cup and saucer, tea caddy and teapot, even a thermos full of hotwater--everything ready to make an early cup of tea. He left the thermosalone, and filled up the kettle at the scullery sink.

  Radmore was still very much of an old campaigner. Still it was a longtime since he had made himself a cup
of tea, and he became a littleimpatient for the cold water took a long time to boil.

  The kettle was just beginning to sing, when the door which led to theflight of stairs connecting the scullery with the upper floors of thehouse opened quietly, and Betty appeared--Betty, in a becoming bluedressing-gown, which intensified the peachy clearness of her skin,and the glint of pale gold in the shadowed fairness of her hair. Morningwas Betty's hour. As the day wore on, she was apt to become fagged andworried, especially since Nanna's accident.

  Just for a moment she looked very much taken aback, then she smiled,"I've come down to make a cup of tea for Nanna."

  "So I suppose, but _you_ must have a cup first. See, I'm making some foryou."

  "Are you?" She tried not to show the surprise she felt.

  "While you're having it, we'll make Nanna a cup of tea with the water inthe thermos there. But where's the milk?"

  He saw her face from merry become sad. "I always save some milk forJosephine," she said. "I'll go and get it now. But we mustn't use it all;I must save some for that poor cat."

  "You'll have to go a long way to give milk to Josephine," he observed.

  She looked at him, startled, and going to the scullery door, glancedquickly at the corner where stood the now empty basket.

  "Where is she?" she exclaimed--and her whole face lightened. "Oh,Godfrey, have you managed to hide her away?"

  He nodded. "Yes, ever so many miles away, where no one will find her."

  "What do you mean?" She could not conceal her astonishment--herastonishment and her intense relief.

  "Timmy and I spirited her away," he went on, "to a cat's paradise whereshe's going to be kept under observation."

  "Won't Dr. O'Farrell be very angry?"

  "I don't think he'll mind as much as he'll pretend to. The moment he wastold about her kittens he knew that the cat wasn't mad at all."

  "The person who will be angry," exclaimed Betty, "is Mrs. Crofton! Ithought it horribly cruel of her to say what she did last night."

  "It was rather vindictive," he said reflectively. "On the other hand, youmust remember that she'd had an awful shock. I don't wonder she feltangry with Josephine, eh?" He looked a little quizzically, a littledeprecatingly, over at Betty.

  "Still it seemed so--so unnecessary that she should _ask_ for the cat tobe killed." Betty was now bustling about the kitchen with a heightenedcolour.

  Radmore poured out a cup of tea. "Now then," he said, "do come and sitdown quietly, and take your tea, Betty." Rather to his surprise, shemeekly obeyed.

  Presently she asked him, "But why have you got up so early?"

  And then he told her the story of his and Timmy's night expedition,ending up with: "I intend going round to Dr. O'Farrell's house abouteight o'clock. It wouldn't be fair to let the old fellow come down hereto indulge his sporting instincts, eh?"

  To that Betty made no answer, and as the water was now boiling she wentacross to the dresser and brought a clean cup and saucer. "Now then,Godfrey, this cup is for you. Nanna can wait a little longer for hers."

  He sat down opposite to her, and into both their minds there came thethought that if they had married and gone out to Australia they wouldhave often sat thus together in the early morning.

  And then, when Nanna's cup of tea was at last ready, together with somenice thin bread and butter cut, he asked, "Can't I carry the tray up foryou?"

  She shook her head, smiling.

  "I suppose you'll be down again soon? Isn't there anything else I canhelp you with?"

  But this time Betty shook her head even more decidedly than before.

  "Oh, no!" she exclaimed. "I've got to make Nanna comfortable for the day,and it's a long business, for she's dreadfully particular. As a matter offact, Rosamund and Dolly will be down before I am. They'll starteverything going for breakfast. They've been very good lately, you know!Perhaps you'd like to give _them_ a hand?"

  He looked at her hard. There was just the flicker of a mischievous smileon her face.

  "I suppose I ought to help them," he said without enthusiasm. "But I'llgo and have a bath now. You'll let me be your scullion when you'regetting lunch ready, eh, Betty?" He added hastily, "I think Timmy oughtto stay in bed all day to-day. You _will_ let me take the place of Timmy,won't you, Betty?"

  "That will be very kind of you," she replied demurely. And then, beforeshe could say a word of protest, he had taken the heavy tray out of herhands. "You'll find me much more useful than Timmy," he said, with atouch of his old masterfulness. "Now you lead the way up, and I'll handyou over the tray at Nanna's door."