THE ROGUE OF FITZROY ROAD

Auckland Star, Volume LXII, Issue 45, 23 February 1931, Page 16

THE ROGUE OF FITZROY ROAD

•By KENNAWAY JAMES • (Author or "The Mining Mannequin," etc.)

CHAPTER XV,

Conversation at Breakfast

On the morning following liis midnight watch on the house of Mortlen Sarker, Mr. George Noggins awoke wondering if it had all been true. He (Mr. Noggins), the mild-eyed little grocer, the man to whom nothing exciting ever seemed to have happened, could not possibly be the same as he wlio watched a Chinese scale the wall of a suburban garden at midnight. It was unthinkable. Mr. Noggins thought about it as he was dressing. It was true enough. That was certain. Old Joe had been with him and had seen it. Further, had he not in his pocket the piece of cloth which Dog had torn from the man's trousers? He had views about that piece of cloth, j It might be destined to play a part in the unmasking of Morden Sarker. As he entered the dicing room he put the matter from hits mind. The presence . of Mrs. Noggins, who, on this morning, for a very obvious reason, was breakfasting with him, impressed him. ' Mr. Noggins had come 'to know what such company meant. It meant that Mis. Noggins either wanted to tell him some- : thing,' or that she sought information I from'himself. On this morning he was in no doubt. She wanted to know what had transpired at the meeting between him and Enid on the previous evening •when she had suggested that her husband should endeavour to get from Enid the truth of what occurred during the afternoon with Harold Sarker. "Well, you had a nice long talk with Enid," she said. "Did she tell you anything?" "Told me a lot," answered Mr. Nogfins, trying to get a furtive glance at his newspaper, which was propped up against the cruet. "You can look at the paper afterwards," said his wife, as she followed his glance. "I want you to tell me what Enid told you about young Mr. Sarker. That's why I asked her to come and talk to you. Well ?" "She told me tliey had u very nice afternoon, and'that Harold fearkei Mrs Noggins leant forward eagerly. "Yes, tell me," she breathed excitedly. "That he was in love with her." Mrs. Noggins sprang np from her chair and walked to and fro about the room. This was more than she could possibly believe. "Do you mean it?" she managed to say- ~ . "Do you think I dared say a thing like that if I didn't mean it?" asked her husband, taking a glance at the news. "And you're not a bit glad?" There was a note of genuine disappointment in Mrs. Noggins' voice. "No, I can't say I'm glad," said Mr. Noggins. He had decided to treat tlu> conversation with as much taciturnity as he possessed, in the hope that it would dwindle away. But Mrs. Isoggins

was not a wo 111 an to leave sucli a subject lightly. . ' "All, you'll he glad in due time," she said. "Now, tell me. Did Enid say she j was in love with him as well?" "She did not," answered her husband. "In fact, she made it quite plain thai, she wasn't,, and that she was simply out to buy young Mr. Sarkcr with her kisses, which struck me as being a bit unpleasant, whichever way you look at it." - _ Mrs. Noggins pursed her lips. Even she was not attracted to the idea. With her, however, the wish was always the father to tlfe thought. "I don't suppose she meant it at all," she said, at last. "You know what girls are. She's sure to fall in love with him in due time." "Due time," represented always to Mrs. Noggins a period when all her wishes would become accomplished. Her husband had come to detest the phrase. It was useless to argue with a woman who could close you up in that way. Mr. Noggins said he thought it was time that lie set out for town. But Mrs. Noggins was not letting nim off so easily. "You can go on the next train to-day," she said. "Surely it's a special day. Think of it. Harold with a big position in Barkers. That's what it means for Enidj because you can be sure he will be the head of the concern it due time." "And perhaps he won't," said Mr. Noggins, testily. "You are taking too much for granted. What's going to happen if Mr. Barker doesn't want Harold to marry Enid. He may have social ambitions as well as you." _ "Ah, that's where you will come in. It's up to you as a husband and a father" —another phrase which, by the occasions upon which it was* used, annoyed Mr. Noggins —"as a husband and a father, to cultivate Mr. company as much as you can. You ye got plenty' of opportunities on the train every morning. Be friendly to him. Make up to him, if you prefer it that way—" . At this Mr. Noggins broke into laughter. "Oh, my sainted aunt!" he cried. "You'll be the death of me soon, making me laugh like this. But, of couise, you can't see how funny it is." "I certainly can't," answered his wife. "I suppose it means that it's funny* to expect you to do such a thing for the sake of you daughter. But I was hoping you might see it from the point of view of your own good as well. Suppose suppose you weren't doing too well competition and all that —well, you might get him to buy your shop, ami then you'd be part of the Barker company." ■ • «I don't sec how selling my shop would make me part of anybody's company but my own," said Noggins, laughingly' again. "In any event I'm sure old Joe 'Bennett would never let me sell it. He's much too foiul of it for that.' If Mrs. Noggins had been a man, or even her own ' r , she would liavi said, "Damn Joe Bennett!" Instead she angrily remarked that perhaps Mr. Noggins in due time would come to see that a wife's advice wasn't always to be ignored, and that in' matters of this kind vou could always trust a woman. On "this note the conversation ended, and Mr. Noggins was soon trotting up the road to the station. He cast a glance at Morden Sarker's garden wall as he passed, and- wondered what had happened to Loo, the Chinese (if Joes deductions were right) after the onsi aught of Dog. He also wondered what Morden Sarker thought of it. And then a thought came to his mind which suddenly made him lower his pace and reflect.

There had certainly been someone in the Barker's garden wlio had answered the call of Loo. Probably it. bad beea Mordcri Sarker himself, in which case lie would have heard the dog's bark, for Dog had made as much noise as thougu be were chasing the Sarker's cat, a noise which, by this time, was familiar enough to all within the "Cedars." If such were so, Morden Sarker must have wondered why the "Accacias" dog was out at that hour 011 that particular night, for - the Noggins' household, as most of the neighbours knew, Avas invariably in bed by eleven. Still, thought Mr. Noggins, that was a matter which he must leave with Mr. Sarker fox digestion. He then resumed the gaft which Charles Dickens so quaintly attributed to Trotty Veck. A little later that morning Enid came downstairs and met her mother. "Father was rather late going this morning," she said, listlessly. "Yes," replied her mother, "we were having a little chat about you. Enid shrugged her shoulders. She had lost all the jollity of the previous day. "What is there for breakfast?" she asked. . „ Mrs. Noggins went to her side. Lnicl, she implored, "do talk to me a little. I've been talking to your fathei, and he s as close as a cork in a bottle, and now here are you being the same. Enid, he's told me what you said Harold Sarker. Oh, I'm so glad about it, Enid. I could hug you. Yes, I could.' "Well, don't do it before breakfast, mums; I couldn't stand it," rep Led Enid. "Father had got no right to tell you all we were talking about last night." "He didn't tell me all," replied Mrs. "but he told me all I wanted to know, and that was that Harold Larker had said lie loved you." "I see," said Enid. "I suppose I might have known that you would get it out of him sooner or later. I wish I had told you myself now. Anyhow, I suppose you will be talking about it all over -lie place in any case." t "You arc being most unkind, "was Mrs. Noggin's commcnt, "but perhaps you will feel better when you've had your breakfast." "Ah, that's what I' call being practical," Enid called after her mother as she went into the kitchen to prepare her daughter's meal. "Perhaps I'll tell you a little more when I've had something to cat." Enid was not being facetious. She had a peculiar nature in which there was an unusually strong sense of, and liking for, the practical tilings in life. This was probably inherited from her father, who had built up his business himself, encountering and overcoming hardships and discouragement along the earlier days. Mr. Noggins differed from his daughter, however, in the fact that he was not willingly practical. He was

practical in spite of himself. He was, in reality, a dreamer. Enid had inherited few, if any, dreams. I Her outlook 011 'breakfast and marriage were identical. They both served a puipose. Later that morning mother and daughter took a walk round the garden, Enid, as she had prophesied, being in a 1 better frame of mind.

"Tell me," her mother asked. "You really are glad that Harold fearker lias told you lie loves you, aren't you?" "Of course I am, in a way," responded Enid. "I'm not sure he's quite my type, but, as I said to father last night, what's the good of waiting for the right man when you can't be sure he will turn up. It's different if he does. Do you know, mother, if the right one did turn up I would do tilings you would shudder at to get him. I would lie for him and I would steal for him. If lie were married already I would not care. I would just steal him. And I don't feel like that about Harold Sarker. See? That's what I meant when I ppoke about the right man." . Mrs. Noggins eyed her daughter keenly. It was not like Enid to speak in this way. She did not see that Enid was going through all the experiences of the girl who marries without real love and-who knows it, who feels that she is putting her heart into an ice-box for ever instead of placing it where it will be warmed, caressed and tended. The spectre of the unfound right man had begun to haunt; her even so early. All her mother could say was: "Well, it's wrong to steal anything, isn't it?" A remark which made Enid sigh impatiently. Her mother's inability not to be banal ! was a constant source of trouble to her. Always Enid found herself being mentally starved when in the presence of her mother. "Nevertheless, I would steal," the girl went on. "If Providence has made it that people fall in love only once, then Providence must not be surprised if those concerned meet too late and do a little mutual stealing." "Enid!" "Quite!" replied Enid. "What else would you like me to tell you?" "I think we'll go indoors and sit do\Yn," said Mrs. Noggins. "I don't feel very well, suddenly. It must tte the heat. Enid smiled as she accompanied her mother indoors. Whenever Mrs. Noggins was shocked, and wanted a little time to recuperate and to decide what attitude to take, she always complained of not feeling well. By the time she had seated herself in the "study" she was herself again and had decided to change the subject. , | "Anyhow, I'm glad about it," she said ; conclusively. Then: "I wonder how green crepe would suit you, my dear?" "I should look ravishing," laughed Enid, though quite decided not to leave the subject of Harold Sarker. "By the way, mother, did father say anything to you about the Sarkers ?" "Well, he's said several things about them. The chief one seems to be that he doesn't like them, though I'm sure I can't think why." "You mean he's said nothing definite about them ?" "No; why?" "I just wondered, because lie said somethin" definite to me. At least as definite as you can generally expect fiom father. He said they were probably not so well Off as we think they are." "Enid, how could he say a thing like that?" , , . „ "Well, he said it, anyhow, and, wlien you come to think of it, what do we really know about them? Father says he knows things behind the scenes, or suggests that he does. So if there is really something rocky about them, winy on eartli sliould I have kissed ■ Enid coloured as she corrected herself —"let .him talk to me as he did?" ~ c _

"He's quite nice, even if there isn't so much money as we thought, suggested Mrs. Noggins. _ , "Nice be hanged," exclaimed Jmucl, then apologising for lier rudeness. I mean, • what's the use of my throwing myself at the fee.t of a man who's only just nice. I want something a little better for Enid Noggins. He's either got to be the right one'or lie's got to have plenty of money ." "Anyhow, I don't believe your father, said Mrs. Noggins. "The best thing we can do is to ignore what he said_ and act as we were going to. That is to say, to consider it a good thing for you to marry Harold Sarker. After all, from what you said, father himself is not in a position to talk about people being hard up." Enid gave a tremulous cough. "And there you are again," she said. "He says he himself is farther from Queer Street than we imagine. Honestly, mother, I cannot understand things a bit." "Then don't try to, my dear child. Everything will solve itself in due time. Now you promised me that you would have a word with Harold —I can't help calling him Harold —about father. You said you would do it to-day." "Well, I'm seeing him this afternoon, and, if there is a chance, I will mention the subject." The chance came. She met Harold Sarker at the Mardleham Tennis Club as she had arranged, and found him eagerly awaiting her. {To be continued daily.)