Leander trembled--this time for his own reputation; for the report that he kept a mysterious and pugnacious statue on the premises would not increase his custom. He must silence it, if possible. "I'm afraid it is, sir--in a way," he remarked, compassionately.
The young man turned paler still. "No!" he exclaimed. "You don't think it is, though? Don't you see anything yourself? I don't either, Tweddle; I was chaffing, that's all. I know I'm a wee bit off colour; but it's not so bad as that. Keep off! Tell her to drop it, Tweddle!"
[Illustration: "KEEP OFF! TELL HER TO DROP IT, TWEDDLE!"]
For, as he spoke, the goddess had made a stride towards him. "Miserable one!" she cried, "you have mangled one of my birds. Hence, or I crush thee!"
"Tweddle! Tweddle!" cried the youth, taking refuge in the other shop, "don't let her come after me! What's she talking about, eh? You shouldn't have these things about; they're--they're not _right_!"
Leander shut the glass door and placed himself before it, while he tried to assume a concerned interest. "You take my advice, sir," he said; "you go home and keep steady."
"Is it that?" murmured the customer. "Great Scott! I must be bad!" and he went out into the street, shaking.
"I don't believe I shall ever see _him_ again, either," thought Leander.
"She'll drive 'em all away if she goes on like this." But here a sudden recollection struck him, and he slapped his thigh with glee. "Why, of course," he said, "that's it. I've downright disgusted her; it was me she was most put out with, and after this she'll leave me alone. Hooray!
I'll shut up everything first and get rid of the boy, and then go in and see her, and get away to Matilda."
When the shop was secured for the night, he re-entered the saloon with a light step. "Well, mum," he began, "you've seen me at work, and you've thought better of what you were proposing, haven't you now?"
"Where is the wretched stripling who dared to slay my dove?" she cried.
"Bring him to me!"
"What _are_ you a-talking about now?" cried the bewildered Leander.
"Who's been touching your birds? I wasn't aware you _kept_ birds."
"Many birds are sacred to me--the silver swan, the fearless sparrow, and, chief of all, the coral-footed dove. And one of these has that monster slain--his own mouth hath spoken it."
"Oh! is that all?" said Leander. "Why, he wasn't talking about a real dove; it was a ballet girl he meant. I can't explain the difference; but they _are_ different. And it's all talk, too. I know him; _he's_ harmless enough. And now, mum, to come to the point; you've now had the opportunity of forming some ideer of my calling. You've thought better of it, haven't you?"
"Better! ay, far better!" she cried, in a voice that thrilled with pride. "Leander, too modestly you have rated yourself, for surely you are great amongst the sons of men."
"_Me!_" he gasped, utterly overcome. "How do you make that out?"
"Do you not compel them to furnish sport for you? Have I not seen them come in, talking boldly and loud, and yet seat themselves submissively at a sign from you? And do you not swathe them in the garb of humiliation, and daub their countenances with whiteness, and threaten their bared throats with the gleaming knife, and grind their heads under the resistless wheel? Then, having in disdain granted them their worthless lives, you set them free; and they propitiate you with a gift, and depart trembling."
"Well, of all the topsy-turvy contrariness!" he protested. "You've got it _all_ wrong; I declare you have! But I'll put you right, if it's possible to do it." And he launched into a lengthy explanation of the wonders she had seen, at the end of which he inquired, "_Now_ do you understand I'm nobody in particular?"
"It may be so," she admitted; "but what of that? Ere this have I been wild with love for a herdsman on Phrygian hills. Aye, Adonis have I kissed in the oakwood, and bewailed his loss. And did not Selene descend to woo the neatherd Endymion? Wherefore, then, should I scorn thee? and what are the differences and degrees of mortals to such as I!
Be bold; distrust your merits no longer, since I, who amongst the goddesses obtained the prize of beauty, have chosen you for my own."
"I don't care what prizes you won," he said, sulkily; "I'm not yours, and I don't intend to be, either." He was watching the clock impatiently all the while, for it was growing very near nine.
"It is vain to struggle," she said, "since not the gods themselves can resist Fate. We must yield, and contend not."
"You begin it, then," he said. "Give me my ring."
"The sole symbol of my power! the charm which has called me from my long sleep! Never!"
"Then," said Leander, knowing full well that his threat was an impossible one, "I shall place the matter in the hands of a respectable lawyer."
"I understand you not; but it is no matter. In time I shall prevail."
"Well, mum, you must come again another evening, if you've no objection," said Leander, rudely, "because I've got to go out just now."
"I will accompany you," she said.
Leander nearly danced with frenzy. Take the statue with him to meet his dear Matilda! He dared not. "You're very kind," he stammered, perspiring freely; "but I couldn't think of taking you out such a foggy evening."
"Have no cares for me," she answered; "we will go together. You shall explain to me the ways of this changed world."
"Catch _me_!" was Leander's elliptical comment to himself; but he had to pretend a delighted acquiescence. "Well," he cried, "if I hadn't been thinking how lonely it would be going out alone! and now I shall have the honour of your company, mum. You wait a bit here, while I run upstairs and fetch my 'at."
But the perfidious man only waited until he was on the other side of the door, which led from the saloon to his staircase, to lock it after him, and slip out by the private door into the street.
"Now, my lady," he thought triumphantly, "you're safe for awhile, at all events. I've put up the shutters, and so you won't get out that way. And now for Tillie!"
TWO ARE COMPANY
VI.
"The shape Which has made escape, And before my countenance Answers me glance for glance."
_Mesmerism._
Leander hastened eagerly to his trysting-place. All these obstacles and difficulties had rendered his Matilda tenfold dearer and more precious to him; and besides, it was more than a fortnight since he had last seen her. But he was troubled and anxious still at the recollection of the Greek statue shut up in his hair-cutting saloon. What would Matilda say if she knew about it; and still worse, what might it not do if it knew about her? Matilda might decline to continue his acquaintance--for she was a very right-minded girl--unless Venus, like the jealous and vindictive heathen she had shown herself to be, were to crush her before she even had the opportunity.
"It's a mess," he thought disconsolately, "whatever way I look at it.
But after to-night I won't meet Matilda any more while I've got that statue staying with me, or no one could tell the consequences." However, when he drew near the appointed spot, and saw the slender form which awaited him there by the railings, he forgot all but the present joy.
Even the memory of the terrible divinity could not live in the wholesome presence of the girl he had the sense to truly and honestly love.
Matilda Collum was straight and slim, though not tall; she had a neat little head of light brown hair, which curled round her temples in soft rings; her complexion was healthily pale, with the slightest tinge of delicate pink in it; she had a round but decided chin, and her grey eyes were large and innocently severe, except on the rare occasions when she laughed, and then their expression was almost childlike in its gaiety.
Generally, and especially in business hours, her pretty face was calm and slightly haughty, and rash male customers who attempted to make the choice of a "button-hole" an excuse for flirtation were not encouraged to persevere. She was seldom demonstrative to Leander--it was not her way--but she accepted his effusive affection very contentedly, and, indeed, returned it more heartily than her principles allowed her to admit; for she secretly admired his spirit and fluency, and, as is often the case in her class of life, had no idea that she was essentially her lover's superior.
After the first greetings, they walked slowly round the square together, his arm around her waist. Neither said very much for some minutes, but Leander was wildly, foolishly happy, and there was no severity in Matilda's eyes when they shone in the lamp-light.
"Well," he said, at last, "and so I've actually got you safe back again, my dear, darling Tillie! It seems like a long eternity since last we met. I've been so beastly miserable, Matilda!"
"You do seem to have got thinner in the face, Leander dear," said Matilda, compassionately. "What _have_ you been doing while I've been away?"
"Only wishing my dearest girl back, that's all _I've_ been doing."
"What! haven't you given yourself any enjoyment at all--not gone out anywhere all the time?"