Chapter LXXII

by William Somerset Maugham

　　For the next three months Philip went every day to see Mildred. He tookhis books with him and after tea worked, while Mildred lay on the sofareading novels. Sometimes he would look up and watch her for a minute. Ahappy smile crossed his lips. She would feel his eyes upon her."Don't waste your time looking at me, silly. Go on with your work," shesaid."Tyrant," he answered gaily.He put aside his book when the landlady came in to lay the cloth fordinner, and in his high spirits he exchanged chaff with her. She was alittle cockney, of middle age, with an amusing humour and a quick tongue.Mildred had become great friends with her and had given her an elaboratebut mendacious account of the circumstances which had brought her to thepass she was in. The good-hearted little woman was touched and found notrouble too great to make Mildred comfortable. Mildred's sense ofpropriety had suggested that Philip should pass himself off as herbrother. They dined together, and Philip was delighted when he had orderedsomething which tempted Mildred's capricious appetite. It enchanted him tosee her sitting opposite him, and every now and then from sheer joy hetook her hand and pressed it. After dinner she sat in the arm-chair by thefire, and he settled himself down on the floor beside her, leaning againsther knees, and smoked. Often they did not talk at all, and sometimesPhilip noticed that she had fallen into a doze. He dared not move then incase he woke her, and he sat very quietly, looking lazily into the fireand enjoying his happiness."Had a nice little nap?" he smiled, when she woke."I've not been sleeping," she answered. "I only just closed my eyes."She would never acknowledge that she had been asleep. She had a phlegmatictemperament, and her condition did not seriously inconvenience her. Shetook a lot of trouble about her health and accepted the advice of anyonewho chose to offer it. She went for a `constitutional' every morning thatit was fine and remained out a definite time. When it was not too cold shesat in St. James' Park. But the rest of the day she spent quite happily onher sofa, reading one novel after another or chatting with the landlady;she had an inexhaustible interest in gossip, and told Philip with abundantdetail the history of the landlady, of the lodgers on the drawing-roomfloor, and of the people who lived in the next house on either side. Nowand then she was seized with panic; she poured out her fears to Philipabout the pain of the confinement and was in terror lest she should die;she gave him a full account of the confinements of the landlady and of thelady on the drawing-room floor (Mildred did not know her; "I'm one to keepmyself to myself," she said, "I'm not one to go about with anybody.") andshe narrated details with a queer mixture of horror and gusto; but for themost part she looked forward to the occurrence with equanimity."After all, I'm not the first one to have a baby, am I? And the doctorsays I shan't have any trouble. You see, it isn't as if I wasn't wellmade."Mrs. Owen, the owner of the house she was going to when her time came, hadrecommended a doctor, and Mildred saw him once a week. He was to chargefifteen guineas."Of course I could have got it done cheaper, but Mrs. Owen stronglyrecommended him, and I thought it wasn't worth while to spoil the ship fora coat of tar.""If you feel happy and comfortable I don't mind a bit about the expense,"said Philip.She accepted all that Philip did for her as if it were the most naturalthing in the world, and on his side he loved to spend money on her: eachfive-pound note he gave her caused him a little thrill of happiness andpride; he gave her a good many, for she was not economical."I don't know where the money goes to," she said herself, "it seems toslip through my fingers like water.""It doesn't matter," said Philip. "I'm so glad to be able to do anythingI can for you."She could not sew well and so did not make the necessary things for thebaby; she told Philip it was much cheaper in the end to buy them. Philiphad lately sold one of the mortgages in which his money had been put; andnow, with five hundred pounds in the bank waiting to be invested insomething that could be more easily realised, he felt himself uncommonlywell-to-do. They talked often of the future. Philip was anxious thatMildred should keep the child with her, but she refused: she had herliving to earn, and it would be more easy to do this if she had not alsoto look after a baby. Her plan was to get back into one of the shops ofthe company for which she had worked before, and the child could be putwith some decent woman in the country."I can find someone who'll look after it well for seven and sixpence aweek. It'll be better for the baby and better for me."It seemed callous to Philip, but when he tried to reason with her shepretended to think he was concerned with the expense."You needn't worry about that," she said. "I shan't ask you to pay forit.""You know I don't care how much I pay."At the bottom of her heart was the hope that the child would bestill-born. She did no more than hint it, but Philip saw that the thoughtwas there. He was shocked at first; and then, reasoning with himself, hewas obliged to confess that for all concerned such an event was to bedesired."It's all very fine to say this and that," Mildred remarked querulously,"but it's jolly difficult for a girl to earn her living by herself; itdoesn't make it any easier when she's got a baby.""Fortunately you've got me to fall back on," smiled Philip, taking herhand."You've been good to me, Philip.""Oh, what rot!""You can't say I didn't offer anything in return for what you've done.""Good heavens, I don't want a return. If I've done anything for you, I'vedone it because I love you. You owe me nothing. I don't want you to doanything unless you love me."He was a little horrified by her feeling that her body was a commoditywhich she could deliver indifferently as an acknowledgment for servicesrendered."But I do want to, Philip. You've been so good to me.""Well, it won't hurt for waiting. When you're all right again we'll go forour little honeymoon.""You are naughty," she said, smiling.Mildred expected to be confined early in March, and as soon as she waswell enough she was to go to the seaside for a fortnight: that would givePhilip a chance to work without interruption for his examination; afterthat came the Easter holidays, and they had arranged to go to Paristogether. Philip talked endlessly of the things they would do. Paris wasdelightful then. They would take a room in a little hotel he knew in theLatin Quarter, and they would eat in all sorts of charming littlerestaurants; they would go to the play, and he would take her to musichalls. It would amuse her to meet his friends. He had talked to her aboutCronshaw, she would see him; and there was Lawson, he had gone to Parisfor a couple of months; and they would go to the Bal Bullier; there wereexcursions; they would make trips to Versailles, Chartres, Fontainebleau."It'll cost a lot of money," she said."Oh, damn the expense. Think how I've been looking forward to it. Don'tyou know what it means to me? I've never loved anyone but you. I nevershall."She listened to his enthusiasm with smiling eyes. He thought he saw inthem a new tenderness, and he was grateful to her. She was much gentlerthan she used to be. There was in her no longer the superciliousness whichhad irritated him. She was so accustomed to him now that she took no painsto keep up before him any pretences. She no longer troubled to do her hairwith the old elaboration, but just tied it in a knot; and she left off thevast fringe which she generally wore: the more careless style suited her.Her face was so thin that it made her eyes seem very large; there wereheavy lines under them, and the pallor of her cheeks made their colourmore profound. She had a wistful look which was infinitely pathetic. Thereseemed to Philip to be in her something of the Madonna. He wished theycould continue in that same way always. He was happier than he had everbeen in his life.He used to leave her at ten o'clock every night, for she liked to go tobed early, and he was obliged to put in another couple of hours' work tomake up for the lost evening. He generally brushed her hair for her beforehe went. He had made a ritual of the kisses he gave her when he bade hergood-night; first he kissed the palms of her hands (how thin the fingerswere, the nails were beautiful, for she spent much time in manicuringthem,) then he kissed her closed eyes, first the right one and then theleft, and at last he kissed her lips. He went home with a heartoverflowing with love. He longed for an opportunity to gratify the desirefor self-sacrifice which consumed him.Presently the time came for her to move to the nursing-home where she wasto be confined. Philip was then able to visit her only in the afternoons.Mildred changed her story and represented herself as the wife of a soldierwho had gone to India to join his regiment, and Philip was introduced tothe mistress of the establishment as her brother-in-law."I have to be rather careful what I say," she told him, "as there'sanother lady here whose husband's in the Indian Civil.""I wouldn't let that disturb me if I were you," said Philip. "I'mconvinced that her husband and yours went out on the same boat.""What boat?" she asked innocently."The Flying Dutchman."Mildred was safely delivered of a daughter, and when Philip was allowed tosee her the child was lying by her side. Mildred was very weak, butrelieved that everything was over. She showed him the baby, and herselflooked at it curiously."It's a funny-looking little thing, isn't it? I can't believe it's mine."It was red and wrinkled and odd. Philip smiled when he looked at it. Hedid not quite know what to say; and it embarrassed him because the nursewho owned the house was standing by his side; and he felt by the way shewas looking at him that, disbelieving Mildred's complicated story, shethought he was the father."What are you going to call her?" asked Philip."I can't make up my mind if I shall call her Madeleine or Cecilia."The nurse left them alone for a few minutes, and Philip bent down andkissed Mildred on the mouth."I'm so glad it's all over happily, darling."She put her thin arms round his neck."You have been a brick to me, Phil dear.""Now I feel that you're mine at last. I've waited so long for you, mydear."They heard the nurse at the door, and Philip hurriedly got up. The nurseentered. There was a slight smile on her lips.