'Well, I don't think I shall go alone; it 'ud be so precious slow.'
Supposing he didn't ask her again! What should she do? She looked up at the clock on the front of the pub, and noticed that it only wanted five minutes to the half-hour. How terrible it would be if the brake started and he didn't ask her! Her heart beat violently against her chest, and in her agitation she fumbled with the corner of her apron.
'Well, what can I do, Tom dear?'
'Why, come with me, of course. Oh. Liza, do say yes.'
She had got the offer again, and it only wanted a little seemly hesitation, and the thing was done.
'I should like ter, Tom,' she said. 'But d'you think it 'ud be arright?'
'Yus, of course it would. Come on, Liza!' In his eagerness he clasped her hand.
'Well,' she remarked, looking down, 'if it'd spoil your 'oliday--.'
'I won't go if you don't--swop me bob, I won't!' he answered.
'Well, if I come, it won't mean that I'm keepin' company with you.'
'Na, it won't mean anythin' you don't like.'
'Arright!' she said.
'You'll come?' he could hardly believe her.
'Yus!' she answered, smiling all over her face.
'You're a good sort, Liza! I say, 'Arry, Liza's comin'!' he shouted.
'Liza? 'Oorray!' shouted Harry.
''S'at right, Liza?' called Sally.
And Liza feeling quite joyful and light of heart called back:
'Yus!'
''Oorray!' shouted Sally in answer.
'Thet's right, Liza,' called Jim; and he smiled pleasantly as she looked at him.
'There's just room for you two 'ere,' said Harry, pointing to the vacant places by his side.
'Arright!' said Tom.
'I must jest go an' get a 'at an' tell mother,' said Liza.
'There's just three minutes. Be quick!' answered Tom, and as she scampered off as hard as she could go, he shouted to the coachman: ''Old 'ard; there' another passenger comin' in a minute.'
'Arright, old cock,' answered the coachman: 'no 'urry!'
Liza rushed into the room, and called to her mother, who was still asleep:
'Mother! mother! I'm going to Chingford!'
Then tearing off her old dress she slipped into her gorgeous violet one; she kicked off her old ragged shoes and put on her new boots. She brushed her hair down and rapidly gave her fringe a twirl and a twist--it was luckily still moderately in curl from the previous Saturday--and putting on her black hat with all the feathers, she rushed along the street, and scrambling up the brake steps fell panting on Tom's lap.
The coachman cracked his whip, the trumpeter tootled his horn, and with a cry and a cheer from the occupants, the brake clattered down the road.
5
As soon as Liza had recovered herself she started examining the people on the brake; and first of all she took stock of the woman whom Jim Blakeston had with him.
'This is my missus!' said Jim, pointing to her with his thumb.
'You ain't been dahn in the street much, 'ave yer?' said Liza, by way of making the acquaintance.
'Na,' answered Mrs. Blakeston, 'my youngster's been dahn with the measles, an' I've 'ad my work cut out lookin' after 'im.'
'Oh, an' is 'e all right now?'
'Yus, 'e's gettin' on fine, an' Jim wanted ter go ter Chingford ter-day, an' 'e says ter me, well, 'e says, 'You come along ter Chingford, too; it'll do you good.' An' 'e says, 'You can leave Polly'--she's my eldest, yer know--'you can leave Polly,' says 'e, 'ter look after the kids.' So I says, 'Well, I don't mind if I do,' says I.'
Meanwhile Liza was looking at her. First she noticed her dress: she wore a black cloak and a funny, old- fashioned black bonnet; then examining the woman herself, she saw a middle-sized, stout person anywhere between thirty and forty years old. She had a large, fat face with a big mouth, and her hair was curiously done, parted in the middle and plastered down on each side of the head in little plaits. One could see that she was a woman of great strength, notwithstanding evident traces of hard work and much child-bearing.
Liza knew all the other passengers, and now that everyone was settled down and had got over the excitement of departure, they had time to greet one another. They were delighted to have Liza among them, for where she was there was no dullness. Her attention was first of all taken up by a young coster who had arrayed himself in the traditional costume--grey suit, tight trousers, and shiny buttons in profusion.
'Wot cheer, Bill!' she cried to him.
'Wot cheer, Liza!' he answered.
