Henry, she thought, was not a faithful type. She suspected that he and Shirley had come very near to a quarrel on the occasion when they had recently met. Supposing that Henry was becoming friendly with another girl? Supposing that Henry should break off the engagement… ?
‘That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?’ said the sneering voice of her thoughts. ‘You don’t want her to marry him? That’s the real reason you insisted on a long engagement, isn’t it? Come now!’
But she wouldn’t really be pleased if Henry broke with Shirley. Shirley loved him. Shirley would suffer. If only she herself was sure, quite sure, that it was for Shirley’s good-
‘What you mean,’ said the sneering voice, ‘is for your own good. You want to keep Shirley….’
But she didn’t want to keep Shirley that way-not a heart-broken Shirley, not a Shirley unhappy and longing for her lover. Who was she to know what was best, or not best for Shirley?
When she got home, Laura sat down and wrote a letter to Henry:
“Dear Henry,” she wrote, “I have been thinking things over. If you and Shirley really want to marry, I don’t feel I ought to stand in your way….”
A month later Shirley, in white satin and lace, was married to Henry in Bellbury parish church by the vicar (with a cold in his head) and given away by Mr. Baldock in a morning cog very much too tight for him. A radiant bride hugged Laura good-bye, and Laura said fiercely to Henry:
“Be good to her, Henry. You will be good to her?”
Henry, light-hearted as ever, said: “Darling Laura, what do you think?”
CHAPTER five
1
“Do you really think it’s nice, Laura?”
Shirley, now a wife of three months’ standing, asked the question eagerly.
Laura, completing her tour of the flat (two rooms, kitchen, and bath), expressed warm approval.
“I think you’ve made it lovely.”
“It was awful when we moved in. The dirt! We’ve done most of it ourselves-not the ceilings, of course. It’s been such fun. Do you like the red bathroom? It’s supposed to be constant hot water, but it isn’t usually hot. Henry thought the redness would make it seem hotter-like hell!”
Laura laughed.
“What fun you seem to have had.”
“We’re frightfully lucky to have found a flat at all. Actually some people Henry knew had it, and they passed it on to us. The only awkward thing is that they don’t seem to have paid any bills while they were here. Irate milkmen and furious grocers turn up all the time, but of course it’s nothing to do with us. It’s rather mean to bilk tradesmen, I think-especially small tradesmen. Henry doesn’t think it matters.”
“It may make it more difficult for you to get things on credit,” said Laura.
“I pay our bills every week,” said Shirley virtuously.
“Are you all right for money, darling? The garden’s been doing very well lately. If you want an extra hundred.”
“What a pet you are, Laura! No, we’re all right. Keep it in case there’s an emergency-I might have a really serious illness.”
“Looking at you, that seems an absurd idea.”
Shirley laughed gaily.
“Laura, I’m terribly happy.”
“Bless you!”
“Hullo, here’s Henry.”
Turning the latch-key, Henry entered, and greeted Laura with his usual happy air.
“Hullo, Laura.”
“Hullo, Henry. I think the flat’s lovely.”
“Henry, what’s the new job like?”
“New job?” asked Laura
“Yes. He chucked the other one. It was awfully stuffy. Nothing but sticking on stamps and going to the post.”
“I’m willing to start at the bottom,” said Henry, “but not in the basement.”
“What’s this like?” Shirley repeated impatiently.
“Promising, I think,” said Henry. “Of course it’s early days to say.”
He smiled charmingly at Laura and told her how very pleased they were to see her.
Her visit went off very well, and she returned to Bellbury feeling that her fears and hesitations had been ridiculous.
2
“But Henry, how can we owe so much?”
Shirley spoke in a tone of distress. She and Henry had been married just over a year.
“I know,” Henry agreed, “that’s what I always feel! That one can’t owe all that. Unfortunately,” he added sadly, “one always does.”