Mr. Woods, driving one of his own wagonettes, was talking to the two passengers secured at the railway station four miles off and giving them a short autobiography—“Begun to work, I did, afore I were twelve, I did!”—when he caught sight of the gathering and broke off to express amazement; he gave at once an emphatic but scarcely original declaration that if women secured the vote they would not know what to do with it. The passengers differed from this view, and Mr. Woods, anxious to secure their patronage for the return journey, hastened to admit that he had not had the time to study the question thoroughly. A p. 162lady detached herself from the group and, holding her tweed cap on her head, ran across.
“Whatever’s amiss, Jane?”
“It’s a missis,” she added, robbed of breath by indignation and hurry. “That Mrs. Jarrett, as she calls herself. She’s been and opened some Tea Gardens.”
“News to me,” he remarked alarmedly.
“News to all of us. She ain’t been here more than three months, and this morning there’s playcards all over her place.”
“Thought she seemed a nicely spoken person.”
“You wait,” said Jane threateningly, “until we begin to talk to her. She’ll get what I call some home truths if she don’t look out.”
The passengers suggested mildly that their time was limited, and Woods, rendered silent by the extraordinary nature of the information, drove on to the edge of the forest, contenting himself by indicating on the way the cottage where his sister-in-law Jane resided. In the clouded diamond panes it exhibited shyly, as did most of the other cottages, a small card that whispered the word “Teas”; a few bottles of ginger-beer rested on the sill to suggest that the establishment had further resources. After the passengers alighted he drove around by the road that skirted the wood, checking p. 163the horse slightly on approaching the house and lawn occupied by the new-comer. Tables had been placed, with striped cloths held by shining clips; a small marquee was being fixed in the corner. The neatly-painted board at the gate gave the title, “Forest Tea Gardens,” adding sentences to the effect that refreshments of the best quality could be obtained at any hour—“Large Parties and Small Parties catered for; proprietress, Clara Jarrett.” As Mr. Woods, unwilling to display curiosity, allowed his horse to go on, an automatic pianoforte started, with great vivacity, a waltz.
“Great thing is,” announced Mr. Woods, speaking from his conveyance to the meeting as though he were a candidate for Parliament—“is not to lose your heads. Keep perfectly calm and cool, and everything’ll come right in the long run.”
“Question is, how long a run is it going to be?” demanded one.
“Provided,” he went on, “provided that we all stick together, she can’t last half-way through the summer.”
“And meanwhile—”
“Meanwhile,” interrupted Woods irritably, “you’ve got to make the best of it. Competition’s bound to exist in this world.”
“How would you like it, Mr. Woods, if somebody—”
“One matter at a time. Let’s keep to p. 164the question. What I want you to recognise is that you’ve got a true friend in me. I’ve no partic’lar objection to her; as I said just now to my sister-in-law, she always seemed a nicely spoken person, and I don’t wish to do her any harm whatsoever. But there’s no doubt at all in my mind that so far as we are concerned she’s a interloper.”
The women appeared to find the description too lenient. One announced vehemently that, before Mr. Woods came along, they had almost decided to go in a body and pull down the signboard, demolish the marquee, and in other ways convey the fact that they looked upon the new Tea Gardens with disapproval. Goodness knew, there had never been much profit made out of sixpenny teas; it seemed likely that in the future it would be scarcely worth while to make cakes and keep the kettle boiling. Woods, again begging for moderation, urged they should cease talking for the space of two seconds and listen to him. He, with his cabs and wagonettes, had full control over all the traffic from the station, excepting that small part which took the (as he thought) mistaken course of deciding to walk. Nearly all of these passengers put one inquiry to him or to his men.
“Now do keep quiet until I’ve finished,” prayed Woods. “Only got half a dozen more words to say, and I’m done.”
p. 165He, on his side, was prepared to guarantee that the new Tea Gardens should never, by speech or hint, be recommended. If any passenger, having heard of them, mentioned the name, then Mr. Woods or his men could be relied upon to cast discredit ingeniously without bringing themselves within the domain of the laws of libel. On their side, they must be prepared for some special efforts; must make a greater show; endeavour to engage the passing visitor by welcome smiles; take care to keep windows open. He feared they did not always realise the Londoner’s partiality for fresh air.
“And,” asked his sister-in-law defiantly, “are we supposed to keep on friendly terms with her whilst all this is going on?”
“Please yourselves,” replied Mr. Woods generously. “So far as I’m concerned, I shall continue to pass the time of day.”
“And go on bringing her illustrated newspapers, I suppose, from the station?”
“You’ll allow me, Jane, to be the best judge of my own affairs.”
“But you’re setting out to be the best judge of ours as well!”
“I’ve given you good advice,” said Mr. Woods, gathering the reins, “but it’s beyond human power to compel you to take it.”
Confidence in himself was shaken by information conveyed by the two passengers on the return journey. Having forgotten the p. 166exact whereabouts of his sister-in-law’s house they had gone into the new Tea Gardens, and their content and satisfaction with the treatment received made subject of conversation throughout the journey. The excellence of the watercress, the surprising freshness of the eggs, the admirable quality of the home-made jam—all these impressed them favourably, and they talked of arranging with friends a picnic on a large scale and without the inconvenience of heavy baskets. Mr. Woods, not being asked for an opinion, gave several; one was in favour of splitting the party up amongst the cottages. He declared this plan would encourage sociability and give an insight into country life. For almost the first time in his professional career Woods found himself told to mind his own business. He invented some compensation by speaking sharply to one of his men whom he charged with the offence of keeping hands in pockets.
The members of the home syndicate received such a quick succession of blows from the new Tea Gardens that they began to experience a kind of dazed resignation, and it became the duty of Mr. Woods to order them to awake. The automatic pianoforte was followed by engagement from town of two young nieces, who were not content with demure costume and long blue pinafore, but must needs, if you please, wear a rather p. 167attractive lace cap. After this came a large rocking-horse for the pleasure of children, or, failing children, the content of grown-ups who fancied equestrian exercise and wished to promote digestion. After this, a giant’s stride. After this, a skittle-alley which drew away of an evening many of the best and most regular customers from “The Running Stag.” After this, a lawn-tennis court, with rackets and balls provided without charge to those who had taken the shilling tea. It was in regard to the shilling tea that Woods’s sister-in-law, ignoring him, went direct to the vicar, from whom she received the disappointing information that the words “ad lib.” were not, in themselves, offensive, or calculated to undermine the morality of the village; he added some trenchant remarks concerning the duties of parents, which Jane assumed to refer to other ladies. Jane assured the vicar that she did all that was possible in the distribution of good counsel, and he remarked that it would make a useful change for her to vary the method by accepting it. So far as Mrs. Jarrett and Sundays were concerned, she and her nieces came to church in the mornings; they worked hard in the afternoon, and they rested in the evening. The vicar, admitting that he might be considered either very old-fashioned or very new-fashioned, declared this a good manner of spending the day, and gave a short account p. 168of Sundays in the early part of the seventeenth century. Woods, to whom this was reported, said, guardedly, that the events referred to occurred before he came to town.
The fly-master had, at this period, troubles of his own which decreased his interest in regard to the rivalry in the tea trade. The first news came from one of the nieces back from a visit to town on an occasion when Woods, at the foot of the hill, stepped down to walk and encourage his horse. The detached position which he had assumed since the beginning of the dispute had been modified because Jane’s daughter told one of his young men (and the young man told Mr. Woods) that Jane had announced an opinion to the effect that her brother-in-law found the money to finance the Tea Gardens, a suggestion so unfair and so preposterous that he declared his intention of allowing them to fight their battles without further assistance from him; henceforth, he proposed to take up a strictly impartial attitude. Consequently, he had recommenced the bringing of illustrated newspapers, and more than once he and Mrs. Jarrett discussed impending marriages in high life, conduct of the German Emperor, accidents caused by motor-cars, and other topical subjects. The niece, taking charge of the roll of journals, had distributed amongst the passengers some of Mrs. Jarrett’s neatly printed cards, had pointed out to them p. 169a notable church and conspicuous dwellings. Leaning over the side of the conveyance, she gave the information already referred to.
“You Londoners will have your lark,” he commented. “Your aunt’s just the same.”
“But I’m serious.”
“You don’t take me in. When you say you’re serious is jest when you’re trying to chaff.”
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