Miss Million's Maid: A Romance of Love and Fortune

by Berta Ruck

  CHAPTER XVIII

  MY FIRST PROPOSAL

  WE were alone on the top of the 'bus.

  Mr. Brace turned to me, settling the oil-cloth 'bus apron over my kneesas if I were a very small and helpless child that must be taken greatcare of.

  Then he said: "You didn't like it, did you? All that?" with a jerk ofhis head towards the side street from which the 'bus was lurching away.

  I said: "Well! I don't think there seemed to be any real harm in thatsort of frivolling. It's very expensive, though, I suppose----"

  "Very," said Mr. Brace grimly.

  "But, of course, Miss Million has plenty of money to waste. Still, it'srather silly--a lot of grown-up people behaving like that----"

  Here I had another mental glimpse of Mr. Burke's reckless, merry,well-bred face, bending over Miss Vi Vassity's common, good-humouredone, with its shrewd, black eyes, its characteristic flash of prominentwhite teeth; I saw his tall, supple figure whirling round her rathersquat, overdressed little shape in that one-step.

  "'Larking' about with all sorts of people they wouldn't otherwise meet,I suppose, and shrieking and 'ragging' like a lot of costers onHampstead Heath. Yes. Really it was rather like a very much moreexpensive Bank Holiday crowd. It was only another way of dancing toorgans in the street, and of flourishing 'tiddlers,' and of shrieking inswing-boats, and of changing hats. Only all that seems to 'go' withcosters. And it doesn't with these people," I said, thinking of Mr.Burke's clean-limbed, public-school, hunting-field look.

  "I shall tell Mill--Miss Million that. And she won't like it," Ichattered on, as Mr. Brace didn't seem to be going to say anything more."I really think she's better away from those places, perhaps, after all.

  "Late hours won't suit her, I know. Why, she's never been out of bedafter half-past ten before in her whole life. And she's never tastedthose weird things they were having for supper; hot dressed crab andpastry with mushrooms inside it! As for champagne--well, I expect she'llhave a horrid headache to-morrow. I shall have to give her breakfast inbed and look after her like a moth----"

  "Miss Lovelace! You must do nothing of the sort. That sort of thing muststop," the young man at my side blurted out. "You oughtn't to be doingthat. It's too preposterous----"

  This was the second time to-day I'd heard that word applied to myworking as Miss Million's maid. The first time the Honourable Jim Burkehad said it. Now here was a young man who disagreed with the HonourableJim on every other point, apparently working himself up into angryexcitement over this.

  "That you--you--should be Miss Million's maid. Good heavens! It'sunthinkable!"

  "I suppose you mean," I said rather maliciously, "that you couldn'tthink of that sister of yours doing anything of the kind."

  He didn't seem to hear me. He said quite violently: "You must give itup. You must give it up at once."

  I laughed a little. I said: "Give up a good, well-paid and amusingsituation? Why? And what could I do instead? Go back to my aunt, Isuppose----"

  "No," broke in the young bank manager, still quite violently, "come tome, couldn't you?"

  I was so utterly taken aback that I hadn't a word to reply. I thought Imust have misunderstood what he said.

  There was a moment of jolting silence.

  Then, in a tone of voice that seemed as if it had been jerked out ofhim, sentence by sentence, with the rolling of the 'bus, Mr. Brace wenton:

  "Miss Lovelace! I don't know whether you knew it, but--I have always--ifyou only knew the enormous admiration, the reverence, that I have alwayshad for you--I ought not to have said it so soon, I suppose. I meant notto have said it for some time yet. But if you could possibly--there isnothing that I would not do to try to make you happy, if you wouldconsent to become my wife."

  "Oh, good heavens!" I exclaimed, absolutely dazed.

  "I know," said young Mr. Brace rather hoarsely, "that it is fearfulpresumption on my part. I know I haven't got anything much to offer agirl like you."

  "Oh," I said, coming out of my first shock of surprise, "oh, but I'msure you have." I felt quite a lump in my throat. I was so touched atthe young man's modesty. I said again: "Oh, but I'm sure you have, Mr.Brace. Heaps!"

  And I looked at his face in the light of the street lamp past which the'bus was swinging. That radiance and the haze of lamp-lit raindrops madea sort of "glory" about him. He has a nice face, one can't deny it. Afair, frank, straight, conscientious, young face. So typically the besttype of honourable, reliable, average young Englishman. Such a contrastto the wary, subtle, dare-devil Celtic face, with the laughing, mockingeyes of Mr. Jim Burke, for example.

  The next thing I knew was that Mr. Brace had got hold of my hand and washolding it most uncomfortably tight.

  "Then, could you?" he said in that strained voice. "Do you mean youcould make me so tremendously proud and happy?"

  "Oh, no! I'm afraid not," I said hastily. "I couldn't!"

  "Oh, don't say that," he put in anxiously. "Miss Lovelace! If you onlyknew! I am devoted to you. Nobody could be more so. If you could onlytry to care for me. Of course, I see this must seem very abrupt."

  "Oh, not at all," I put in hastily again. I did hate not to seem kindand nice to him, after he'd said he was devoted, even though it didsound--well--do I mean "stilted"? The next thing he said was also ratherstilted and embarrassing.

  "But ever since I first saw you in Putney I knew the truth. You are theone girl in the world for me!"

  "Oh, no! There must be such crowds of them," I assured him. "Reallypretty ones; much nicer than me. I'm sure I'm not one bit as nice as youthink me.... Oh, heavens----"

  For here a wild jolt from the motor-'bus had nearly pitched me into hisarms. The top of the 'bus is absolutely the worst place in the world tolisten to a proposal, unless you're absolutely certain of accepting theyoung man. Even so it must have its drawbacks.

  "I'm sure," I said, "that I should be bad-tempered, horrid to livewith----"

  "Miss Lovelace----"

  "And here's the Cecil. I must get off here," I said with some relief."Good-night. No! Please don't get off with me. I'd so much rather youdidn't."

  "May I see you again, then? Soon?" he persisted, standing up on thathorrible 'bus that rocked like a boat at anchor in a rough sea."To-morrow?"

  "Yes--no, not to-morrow----"

  "Yes, to-morrow. I have so much to say to you. I must call. I'llwrite----"

  "Good-night!" I called back ruefully.

  And feeling aghast and amused and a little elated all at once, MissMillion's maid, who had just had an offer of marriage from the managerof Miss Million's bank, entered Miss Million's hotel, and went upstairsto Miss Million's rooms to wait until her mistress came back from theThousand and One.

  When I had taken off my wet outdoor things and reassumed my cap andapron, I sat down on Miss Million's plump pink couch, stuffed one downycushion into the curve of my back, another into the nape of my neck, putmy slippered feet up on a _pouffe_, and prepared to wait up for her,dozing, perhaps....