He had kept himself well in hand.Yes, she had liked T.Tembarom, and as she packed the trunks she realized that the Atlantic Ocean was three thousand miles across, and when two people who had no money were separated by it, they were likely to remain so.Rich people could travel, poor people couldn't.You just stayed where things took you, and you mustn't be silly enough to expect things to happen in your class of life--things like seeing people again.Your life just went on.She kept herself very busy, and did not allow her thoughts any latitude.It would vex her father very much if he thought she had really grown fond of America and was rather sorry to go away.She had finished her packing before evening, and the trunks were labeled and set aside, some in the outside hall and some in the corner of the room.She had sat down with some mending on her lap, and Hutchinson was walking about the room with the restlessness of the traveler whose approaching journey will not let him settle himself anywhere.
"I'll lay a shilling you've got everything packed and ready, and put just where a chap can lay his hands on it," he said.
"Yes, Father.Your tweed cap's in the big pocket of your thick top-coat, and there's an extra pair of spectacles and your pipe and tobacco in the small one.""And off we go back to England same as we came!" He rubbed his head, and drew a big, worried sigh."Where's them going?" he asked, pointing to some newly laundered clothing on a side table."You haven't forgotten 'em, have you?""No, Father.It's just some of the young men's washing.I thought I'd take time to mend them up a bit before I went to bed.""That's like tha mother, too--taking care of everybody.What did these chaps do before you came?""Sometimes they tried to sew on a button or so themselves, but oftener they went without.Men make poor work of sewing.It oughtn't to be expected of them."Hutchinson stopped and looked her and her mending over with a touch of curiosity.
"Some of them's Tembarom's?" he asked.
Little Ann held up a pair of socks.
"These are.He does wear them out, poor fellow.It's tramping up and down the streets to save car-fare does it.He's never got a heel to his name.But he's going to be able to buy some new ones next week."Hutchinson began his tramp again.
"He'll miss thee, Little Ann; but so'll the other lads, for that matter.""He'll know to-night whether Mr.Galton's going to let him keep his work.I do hope he will.I believe he'd begin to get on.""Well,"--Hutchinson was just a little grudging even at this comparatively lenient moment,--"I believe the chap'll get on myself.
He's got pluck and he's sharp.I never saw him make a poor mouth yet.""Neither did I," answered Ann.
A door leading into Tembarom's hall bedroom opened on to Hutchinson's.
They both heard some one inside the room knock at it.Hutchinson turned and listened, jerking his head toward the sound.
"There's that poor chap again," he said."He's wakened and got restless.What's Tembarom going to do with him, I'd like to know? The money won't last forever.""Shall I let him in, Father? I dare say he's got restless because Mr.
Tembarom's not come in."
"Aye, we'll let him in.He won't have thee long.He can't do no harm so long as I'm here."Little Ann went to the door and opened it.She spoke quietly.
"Do you want to come in here, Mr.Strangeways?"The man came in.He was clean, but still unshaven, and his clothes looked as though he had been lying down.He looked round the room anxiously.
"Where has he gone?" he demanded in an overstrung voice."Where is he?" He caught at Ann's sleeve in a sudden access of nervous fear.
"What shall I do if he's gone?"
Hutchinson moved toward him.
"'Ere, 'ere," he said, "don't you go catchin' hold of ladies.What do you want?"I've forgotten his name now.What shall I do if I can't remember?"faltered Strangeways.
Little Ann patted his arm comfortingly.
"There, there, now! You've not really forgotten it.It's just slipped your memory.You want Mr.Tembarom--Mr.T.Tembarom.""Oh, thank you, thank you.That's it.Yes, Tembarom.He said T.
Tembarom.He said he wouldn't throw me over."Little Ann led him to a seat and made him sit down.She answered him with quiet decision.
"Well, if he said he wouldn't, he won't.Will he, Father?""No, he won't." There was rough good nature in Hutchinson's admission.
He paused after it to glance at Ann."You think a lot of that lad, don't you, Ann?""Yes, I do, Father," she replied undisturbedly."He's one you can trust, too.He's up-town at his work," she explained to Strangeways.
"He'll be back before long.He's giving us a bit of a supper in here because we're going away."Strangeways grew nervous again.
"But he won't go with you? T.Tembarom won't go?""No, no; he's not going.He'll stay here," she said soothingly.He had evidently not observed the packed and labeled trunks when he came in.
He seemed suddenly to see them now, and rose in distress.
"Whose are these? You said he wasn't going?"
Ann took hold of his arm and led him to the corner.
"They are not Mr.Tembarom's trunks," she explained."They are father's and mine.Look on the labels.Joseph Hutchinson, Liverpool.
Ann Hutchinson, Liverpool."
He looked at them closely in a puzzled way.He read a label aloud in a dragging voice.
"Ann Hutchinson, Liverpool.What's--what's Liverpool?
"Oh, come," encouraged Little Ann, "you know that.It's a place in England.We're going back to England."He stood and gazed fixedly before him.Then he began to rub his fingers across his forehead.Ann knew the straining look in his eyes.
He was making that horrible struggle to get back somewhere through the darkness which shut him in.It was so painful a thing to see that even Hutchinson turned slightly away.
"Don't!" said Little Ann, softly, and tried to draw him away.
He caught his breath convulsively once or twice, and his voice dragged out words again, as though he were dragging them from bottomless depths.
