The girl had been a good and faithful
servant to her; she was sorry to lose her. And Esther was equally sorry
that anyone but herself should have the looking after of that dear, kind
soul. But what could she do? She was going to be married. She did not
doubt that William was going to marry her; and the cab had hardly entered
the Brompton Road when her thoughts were fully centred in the life that
awaited her. This sudden change of feeling surprised her, and she excused
herself with the recollection that she had striven hard for Fred, but as
she had failed to get him, it was only right that she should think of her
husband. Then quite involuntarily the thought sprang upon her that he was
a fine fellow, and she remembered the line of his stalwart figure as he
walked down the street. There would be a parlour behind the bar, in which
she would sit. She would be mistress of the house. There would be a
servant, a potboy, and perhaps a barmaid.
The cab swerved round the Circus, and she wondered if she were capable of
conducting a business like the "King's Head."
It was the end of a fine September evening, and the black, crooked
perspectives of Soho seemed as if they were roofed with gold. A slight
mist was rising, and at the end of every street the figures appeared and
disappeared mysteriously in blue shadow.
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