Mrs. Warrens Daughter | Page 8

home with her, or at any rate have some kith and kin to
go to. She had no children.... But--I must have told you all this years
ago?--she almost pushed me out of her house for fear I should stay till
the Canon came in from the afternoon service; denied everything;
threatened me as though I was a blackmailer; almost looked as if she
could have killed me and buried me in the garden of the Canonry....
"I've examined the business of the _Warren Hotels Ltd._ since then, but
it's a private company, and all its doings are so cleverly concealed....
Aunt Liz doesn't figure amongst the shareholders any more than Crofts
does. That horrid Bax holds most of the shares now, and mother the
rest.... Yet Aunt Liz must be rich and she certainly didn't get it from the

Canon, who only left a net personality of under £4,000.... I read his will
at Somerset House.... She has had her portrait in the Queen because she
gave a large subscription to the underpinning of Winchester Cathedral
and the restoration of Wolvesey as a clergy house.... Mother must be
very rich, I should judge, from certain indications. I expect she will
retire from the 'Hotels,' some day, wipe out the past, and buy a new
present with her money.... She'll have her portrait in the Queen some
day as a Vice-President of the Girls' Friendly Society!... And yet she's
such a gambler and a rake that she may get pinched over the White
Slave traffic.... I was on tenterhooks over that Lewissohn case the other
day, fearing every moment to see mother's name mixed up with it, or
else an allusion to her 'Hotels.' But I fancy she has been wise
enough--indeed I should guess that Aunt Liz had long ago warned her
to leave England alone as a recruiting ground and to collect her
chambermaids, waitresses, musicians, typists from the Continent
only--Austria, Alsace, Bohemia, Belgium, Italy, the Rhineland, Paris,
Russia, Poland. Knowing what we British people are, can't you almost
predict the bias of Aunt Liz's mind? How she would solace herself that
her dividends were not derived from the prostitution of English girls
but only of 'foreigners'?..."
_Norie_: "You seem to have studied the geography of the business
pretty thoroughly!..."
Vivie (bitterly): "Yes. I have talked it over with Stead from time to time.
I believe he has only spared mother and the Warren Hotels out of
consideration for me ... He wants me to change my surname and give
myself a chance..."
_Norie_: "I see" (pausing). "Of course it is rather an idea, as you refuse
to disguise yourself by marriage. You'd change your name and then
listen with equanimity to fulminations against the Warren Hotels. But
there would be an awkwardness in the firm. We oughtn't to change our
title just as we are getting a good clientèle.... I must think ... If only we
could pretend you'd been left some property--but that sort of lie is soon
found out!--and had to change your name to--to--to. Oh well, we could
soon think of some name beginning with a W--Walters,

Waddilove--Waddilove is a delicious name in cold weather, suggesting
cotton-wool or a warm duvet--or Wilson--or Wilberforce. But I'm
afraid the staff--Rose Mullet and Lily Steynes and the amorous Bertie
Adams--would think it odd, put two and two together, and guess right.
Warren, after all, is such a common name. And we've got so used to
our three helpers, we could hardly turn them off, and take on new
people whom perhaps we couldn't trust.... We must think it over....
"Now I must go back to Queen Anne's Mansions and sit a little while
with Mummy. Come and dine with us? There'll only be us three ... no
horrid man to fall in love with you.... You needn't put on a low dress ...
and we'll go to the dress circle at some play afterwards."
_Vivie_: "But those papers on my desk? I must have your opinion for
or against..."
_Norie_: "All right. It's half-past five. I'll give them half an hour's study
whilst you wash up the tea things and titivate. Then we'll take a hansom
to Quansions: the Underground is so grimy."

CHAPTER II
HONORIA AND HER FRIENDS
The story of Honoria Fraser was something like this: partly guesswork,
I admit. Although I know her well I can only put her past together by
deductions based on a few admitted facts, one or two letters and
occasional unfinished sentences, interrupted by people coming in. Is it
not always thus with our friends and acquaintances? I long to know all
about them from their birth (including date and place of birth and
parentage) onwards; what the father's profession was and why on earth
he married the mother (after