The next morning found Frank once more in Myddelton Square. He
looked up at the house; the windows were all shut, and the blinds
were drawn down. He had half a mind to call again, but Mrs Cork's
manner had been so offensive and repellent that he desisted.
Presently the door opened, and Maria, the maid, came out to clean the
doorsteps. Maria, as we have already said, was a little more human
than her mistress, and having overheard the conversation between her
and Frank at the first interview, had come to the conclusion that
Frank was to be pitied, and she took a fancy to him. Accordingly,
when he passed her, she looked up and said,--'Good-morning.' Frank
stopped, and returned her greeting.
'You was here the other day, sir, asking where them Hopgoods had
gone.'
'Yes,' said Frank, eagerly, 'do you know what has become of them?'
'I helped the cabman with the boxes, and I heard Mrs Hopgood say
"Great Ormond Street," but I have forgotten the number.'
'Thank you very much.'
Frank gave the astonished and grateful Maria half-a-crown, and went
off to Great Ormond Street at once. He paced up and down the street
half a dozen times, hoping he might recognise in a window some
ornament from Fenmarket, or perhaps that he might be able to
distinguish a piece of Fenmarket furniture, but his search was in
vain, for the two girls had taken furnished rooms at the back of the
house. His quest was not renewed that week. What was there to be
gained by going over the ground again? Perhaps they might have found
the lodgings unsuitable and have moved elsewhere. At church on
Sunday he met his cousin Cecilia, who reminded him of his promise.
'See,' she said, 'here is the begonia. I put it in my prayer-book in
order to preserve it when I could keep it in water no longer, and it
has stained the leaf, and spoilt the Athanasian Creed. You will have
it sent to you if you are faithless. Reflect on your emotions, sir,
when you receive a dead flower, and you have the bitter consciousness
also that you have damaged my creed without any recompense.'
It was impossible not to protest that he had no thought of breaking
his engagement, although, to tell the truth, he had wished once or
twice he could find some way out of it. He walked with her down the
churchyard path to her carriage, assisted her into it, saluted her
father and mother, and then went home with his own people.