The Caxley Chronicles Read Online Free PDF Page B

the face of this sort of behaviour, brought home to his son the necessity for knowing one's place on the social ladder. But it did not blind the child to a certain unfairness in his world's structure.
    Standing at the high window, his bare feet growing more and more chilly on the cold linoleum, a new thought struck Bertie, as he watched Jim and Leslie far below. Were the Howards poor? They certainly had plenty to eat, delicious pies, new crusty loaves, and cakes in plenty; but they had very few toys, and Bertie's mother often gave Mrs Howard clothes, which Winnie had outgrown, for Kathy.
    He remembered too, with some shock, that Jim's and Leslie's grandmother was old Mrs Bryant, the gipsy, who sometimes came into the shop, bent under her dirty black shawl. She certainly was poor. She spoke in a whining nasal voice and Bertie had heard her ask his father to take less than the marked price.
    Did this mean that the Howard boys were on a par with the marsh children? His mother certainly spoke with some condescension about the Howards, Bertie recalled, but he knew very well that he would not be allowed to play with the marsh folk. Obviously then, the Howards were acceptable as play fellows.
    It was all very puzzling, thought Bertie, resting his forehead against the cold glass. As far as he was concerned, Jim and Leslie were friends, even heroes, for when one is only eight one looks up to those of ten and twelve, especially when they are gracious enough to accept one's homage.
    Through the window-pane, now misted with his breath, Bertie saw Mrs Howard appear at the shop door and beckon her sons inside. Reluctantly, with backward glances, they obeyed and Bertie watched them vanish indoors. The shop door closed with a bang.
    'Now
they've
got to go to bed!' said Bertie with satisfaction. And with this comforting thought he bounded into his own and was asleep in five minutes.

4. First Encounter
    T HE KING recovered, and the nation rejoiced. Now the Coronation would be on August the ninth. The decorations, so sadly taken down, were restored to their places, and Queen Victoria peered once more from beneath her ribbon umbrella. The bells of St Peter's rang out merrily, calling across the countryside to a hundred others pealing from tower or soaring spire, among the downs and water meadows around Caxley.
    Septimus Howard was doubly thankful for the King's recovery. On the morning after Edna's visit to Bender's shop he had called there himself, pale with anxiety. Bender had ushered him into the shop-parlour and closed the door.
    'Say nothing, Sep,' he said. 'I know how it is.'
    'I've got to say something,' burst out poor Sep. 'I haven't had a wink all night. I stand to lose nigh on forty pounds with cancelled orders, 1 reckon, and I can't see my way clear to paying you back what I owe for many a week.'
    He passed an agitated hand over his white face.
    'Look here, Sep,' rumbled Bender, 'you've got nothing to worry about. I know my money's safe enough. It'll come back one day, and it don't matter to me just when. Your business is coming along a fair treat. These 'ere set-backs happen to us all—but you keep plodding on, boy.'
    He smote the smaller man a heartening blow on the shoulder
which made his teeth rattle. Sep managed to produce a wan smile.
    'It's good of you, Bender,' he began, but was cut short.
    'More to the point, Sep—have you got enough to tide you over? Do you want a mite more till this business is straightened out?'
    Sep's pale face flushed. His eyes were unhappy. He looked through the glass partition between the parlour and the shop and gazed at the kettles and saucepans, dangling from the ceiling there, with unseeing eyes.
    'I think so. I think so, Bender. I'll know more tomorrow, and I don't want to borrow from you if I can help it. You've been generous enough already.'
    He rose from the horse-hair chair and made his way to the door.
    'Must get back to the shop. Plenty to do over there. People want loaves even if