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Page 26
"Is there aught wrong?" she asked, when Pratt had finished his
questions. "Are you from where he worked?"
"That's it," answered Pratt, "And he hasn't turned up this morning, and
we think he's left the town. Owe you anything, missis?"
"Nay, nothing much," she replied. "Ten shillings 'ud cover it, mister."
Pratt gave her half a sovereign. It was not out of consideration for
her, nor as a concession to Parrawhite's memory: it was simply to stop
her from coming down to Eldrick & Pascoe's.
"Well, I don't think you'll see him again," he remarked. "And I dare say
you won't care if you don't."
He turned away then, but before he had gone far, the woman called him
back.
"What am I to do with his bits of things, mister, if he doesn't come
back?" she asked.
"Aught you please," answered Pratt, indifferently. "Throw 'em on the
dust-heap."
As he went back to the centre of the town, he occupied himself in
considering his attitude to Mrs. Mallathorpe when she called on him that
evening. In spite of his own previous notion, and of his
carefully-worked-out scheme about the stewardship, he had been impressed
by what Parrawhite has said as to the wisdom of selling the will for
cash. Pratt did not believe that there was anything in the Collingwood
suggestion--no doubt whatever, he had decided, that old Bartle had meant
to tell Mrs. Mallathorpe of his discovery when she called in answer to
his note, but as he had died before she could call, and as he had told
nobody but him, Pratt, what possible danger could there be from
Collingwood? And a stewardship for life appealed to him. He knew, from
observation of the world, what a fine thing it is to have a certainty.
Once he became steward and agent of the Normandale Grange estate, he
would stick there, until he had saved a tidy heap of money. Then he
would retire--with a pension and a handsome present--and enjoy himself.
To be provided for, for life!--what more could a wise man want? And
yet--there was something in what that devil Parrawhite had urged.
For there was a risk--however small--of discovery, and if discovery were
made, there would be a nice penalty to pay. It might, after all, be
better to sell the will outright--for as much ready money as ever he
could get, and to take his gains far away, and start out on a career
elsewhere. After all, there was much to be said for the old proverb. The
only question was--was the bird in hand worth the two; or the money,
which he believed he would net in the bush?
Pratt's doubts on this point were settled in a curious fashion. He had
reached the centre of the town in his return to Eldrick's, and there, in
the fashionable shopping street, he ran up against an acquaintance. He
and the acquaintance stopped and chatted--about nothing. And as they
lounged on the curb, a smart victoria drew up close by, and out of it,
alone, stepped a girl who immediately attracted Pratt's eyes. He watched
her across the pavement; he watched her into the shop. And his companion
laughed.
"That's the sort!" he remarked flippantly. "If you and I had one each,
old man--what?"
"Who is she?" demanded Pratt.
The acquaintance stared at him in surprise.
"What!" he exclaimed. "You don't know. That's Miss Mallathorpe."
"I didn't know," said Pratt. "Fact!"
He waited until Nesta Mallathorpe came out and drove away--so that he
could get another and a closer look at her. And when she was gone, he
went slowly back to the office, his mind made up. Risk or no risk, he
would carry out his original notion. Whatever Mrs. Mallathorpe might
offer, he would stick to his idea of close and intimate connection with
Normandale Grange.
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