Chapter 47
"Do you mean to tell me that you do not know where Linny has gone, mother?"
"Yes, yes, Stephen; I do not know."
"Has--has she gone to meet anyone?"
"I don't know, Stephen; I think so."
"Who is it, mother?" exclaimed Hallett.
"I don't know, Stephen; indeed I don't know. Oh, this is very, very cruel of you!"
"Mother," said Hallett, "is this just and kind to me, to keep such a secret from my knowledge? Oh, shame, shame! You let that weak, foolish child keep appointments with a stranger, and without my knowledge-- without my knowing it, who stand to her in the place of a father. It must be stopped at once."
"Let me go, Hallett, please," I whispered.
"Yes; go, Antony; it is better that you should not be here when Linny comes back. Good-night--good-night."
I hurried downstairs, and let myself out, feeling miserable with the trouble I had seen, and I was just crossing Queen Square when I saw Linny coming in the opposite direction.
She caught sight of me on the instant and spoke.
"Where did you leave Stephen?" she said hastily; and I saw that she was flushed and panting with haste.
"With Mrs Hallett," I said.
"Was he scolding because I was out?"
"Yes."
She gave her head a hasty toss and turned away, looking prettier than ever, I thought, but I fancied, as we stood beneath a lamp, that she turned pale.
Before she had gone half-a-dozen steps I was by her side.
"Well? What is it?" she said; and now I saw that she was in tears.
"Nothing," I replied; "only that I am going to see you safe home."
"You foolish boy," she retorted. "As if I could not take care of myself."
"Your brother does not like you to be out alone at night," I said quietly; "and I shall walk with you to the door."
"Such nonsense, Antony! Ah, well, just as you like;" and she burst into a mocking laugh.
I knew this was to hide from me the fact that she was in tears; and I walked beside her in silence till we had nearly reached the door, when we both started, for a dark figure suddenly came up to us.
"Oh, Steve, how you frightened me!" exclaimed Linny with a forced laugh.
"Did I?" he said calmly; and then he held out his hand to me and pressed mine.
He did not speak, but that pressure of his hand meant thanks, I thought, for what I had done; and once more I set myself to reach Caroline Street, thinking very seriously about Linny Hallett, of her mother's weakness and constant complaints, and of the way
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.
WE COMPLETE THE MODEL.
Matters did not improve at Great Ormond Street as the months rolled on.
There was evidently a serious estrangement between Linny and Stephen Hallett; and in my frequent visits I saw that she was as wilful as she was pettish, and that she was setting her brother at defiance. Mrs Hallett was more piteous and complaining than ever, and her son grew haggard and worn with care.
Once or twice, when Linny went out, Hallett had insisted upon going with her, when she had s.n.a.t.c.hed off her hat and jacket, exclaiming:
"It does not matter; I can go when you are away. I am not a child, Stephen, to be treated in such a way as this."
He stood looking down at her, more in sorrow than in anger, and beckoning me to follow, he went up to his attic and turned to his model, but sat down thinking, with his head upon his hand.
"Can I do anything to help you, Hallett?" I said anxiously; and he roused himself directly, and smiled in my face.
"No, Antony," he said, "nothing. I could only ask you to follow her, and be a spy upon her actions, and that would degrade us both. Poor child! I cannot win her confidence. It is my misfortune, not my fault.
I am no ladies' man, Antony," he continued bitterly. "Here, let us try the model. I meant to have finished to-night; let us see how my mistress behaves."
He often used to speak in a laughing way of the model as his mistress, after Mrs Hallett telling him one day that it was the only thing he loved.
It was then about nine o'clock, and putting aside reading for that evening, I helped him to fit together the various parts. The framework had been set up and taken down and altered a score of times, for, as may be supposed in such a contrivance as this, with all its complications, it was impossible to make every part at first in its right proportions.
In fact, I found out that for quite a couple of years past Hallett had been slowly and painfully toiling on, altering, re-making, and re-modelling his plans. It was always the same. No sooner had he by patient enterprise nearly finished, as he thought, than he would find out that some trifle spoiled the unity of the whole machine, and he had had to begin nearly all over again.
"There, Antony," he said, on the night in question, as he laid down the last wheel, one that he had had specially made for the purpose, "I have got to the end of my thinking to-night. I have looked at the model in every direction; I have tried it from every point of view, and if it is not a success now, and will not work, I shall throw it aside and try no more. What are you smiling at, boy?"
"Only at you," I said, laughing outright, for we were now, when at his house, on the most familiar terms.
"And why?" he said, half amused, half annoyed.
"I was thinking of what you so often say to me when I am discouraged and can't get on."
"What do you mean?"
"'Never say die!'" I replied, laughing. "I know you'll try again, and again, till you get the thing right and make it go."
"Should you?" he said, looking at me curiously.
"Of course I would," I cried, with my cheeks flus.h.i.+ng. "I never would give up with a puzzle at home, and this is only a big puzzle. It seems, too, as if we always get a little bit nearer to success."
"Yes," he said, nipping his lips together; "that's what makes it so enticing. It seems to lure me on and on, like a will-o'-the-wisp in a marsh. You're right, Antony, my lad; never say die! I must and will succeed."
"Hurray!" I cried, pretending to throw up my cap. "Success to Hallett's great invention! Patent, of course?"
"Yes," he said, with a sigh; "but where is the money to come from for the patent?"
"Suppose we finish it first," I said, laughing.