LITMIR.BIZ

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I shouldn’t go on the old lines. You didn’t think of starting a limited company? You’d find difficulties. Now what you want to start is a—let us call it the South London Dress Supply Association, or something of that kind. But you won’t get to that all at once. You ought to have premises to begin with.’

      ‘I’m aware of it.’

      ‘Can you raise a thousand or so?’

      ‘Yes, I could—if I chose.’

      ‘Now, look here. Your notion of the Fashion Club is a deuced good one, and I don’t see why it shouldn’t be pretty easily started. Out of every five hundred women, you can reckon on four hundred and ninety-nine being fools; and there isn’t a female fool who wouldn’t read and think about a circular which promised her fashionable dresses for an unfashionable price. That’s a great and sound basis to start on. What I advise is, that you should first of all advertise for a dress-making concern that would admit a partner with a small capital. You’ll have between ten and twelve hundred replies, but don’t be staggered; go through them carefully, and select a shop that’s well situated, and doing a respectable trade. Get hold of these people, and induce them to make changes in their business to suit your idea. Then blaze away with circulars, headed “South London Fashion Club;” send them round the whole district, addressed to women. Every idiot of them will, at all events, come and look at the shop; that can be depended upon; in itself no bad advertisement. Arrange to have a special department—special entrance, if possible—with “The Club” painted up. Yes, by jingo! Have a big room, with comfortable chairs, and the women’s weekly papers lying about, and smart dresses displayed on what-d’ye-call-’ems, like they have in windows. Make the subscription very low at first, and give rattling good value; never mind if you lose by it. Then, when you’ve got hold of a lot of likely people, try them with the share project. By-the-bye, if you lose no time, you can bring in the Jubilee somehow. Yes, start with the “Jubilee Fashion Club.” I wonder nobody’s done it already.’

      Beatrice was growing elated.

      ‘The public has to wait for its benefactors,’ she replied.

      ‘I’ll tell you what, would you like me to sketch you out a prospectus of the Club?’

      ‘Yes, you might do that if you like. You won’t expect to be paid?’

      ‘Hang it! what do you take me for?’

      ‘Business is business,’ Miss. French remarked coldly.

      ‘So it is. And friendship is friendship. Got a match?’ He laughed. ‘No, I suppose you haven’t.’

      ‘I’ll go and get you one if you like.’

      ‘There’s a good fellow. I’ll think in the meantime.’

      Beatrice rose lazily, and was absent for several minutes. When she returned, Crewe re-lit his cigar.

      ‘Why shouldn’t I start the shop on my own account?’ Beatrice asked.

      ‘You haven’t capital enough. A little place wouldn’t do.’

      ‘I think I can get Fanny to join me.’

      ‘Can you? What will young Lord have to say to that?’

      ‘Psh! That’s all fooling. It’ll never come to anything. Unless, of course, the old man turned up his toes, and left the boy a tidy sum. But he won’t just yet. I’ve told Fanny that if she’ll raise something on her houses, I’ll guarantee her the same income she has now.’

      ‘Take my advice,’ said Crewe weightily, ‘and hook on to an established business. Of course, you can change the name if you like; and there’d have to be alterations, and painting up, to give a new look.’

      ‘It’s risky, dealing with strangers. How if they got hold of my idea, and then refused to take me in?’

      ‘Well now, look here. After all, I’ll make a bargain with you, old chap. If I can introduce you to the right people, and get you safely started, will you give me all your advertising, on the usual commission?’

      ‘You mean, give it to Bullock and Freeman?’

      ‘No, I don’t. It’s a secret just yet, but I’m going to start for myself.’

      Beatrice was silent. They exchanged a look in the gloom, and Crewe nodded, in confirmation of his announcement.

      ‘How much have you got?’ Miss. French inquired carelessly.

      ‘Not much. Most of the capital is here.’ He touched his forehead. ‘Same as with you.’

      The young woman glanced at him again, and said in a lower voice:

      ‘You’d have had more by now, if—’

      Crewe waited, puffing his cigar, but she did not finish.

      ‘Maybe,’ he replied impartially. ‘Maybe not.’

      ‘Don’t think I’m sorry,’ Beatrice hastened to add. ‘It was an idea, like any other.’

      ‘Not half a bad idea. But there were obstacles.’

      After a pause, Beatrice inquired:

      ‘Do you still think the same about women with money?’

      ‘Just the same,’ Crewe replied at once, though with less than his usual directness; the question seemed to make him meditative. ‘Just the same. Every man looks at it in his own way, of course. I’m not the sort of chap to knuckle under to my wife; and there isn’t one woman in a thousand, if she gave her husband a start, could help reminding him of it. It’s the wrong way about. Let women be as independent as they like as long as they’re not married. I never think the worse of them, whatever they do that’s honest. But a wife must play second fiddle, and think her husband a small god almighty—that’s my way of looking at the question.’

      Beatrice laughed scornfully.

      ‘All right. We shall see.—When do you start business?’

      ‘This side Christmas. End of September, perhaps.’

      ‘You think to snatch a good deal from B. & F., I daresay?’

      Crewe nodded and smiled.

      ‘Then you’ll look after this affair for me?’ said Beatrice, with a return to the tone of strict business.

      ‘Without loss of time. You shall be advised of progress. Of course I must debit you with exes.’

      ‘All right. Mind you charge for all the penny stamps.’

      ‘Every one—don’t you forget it.’

      He stood up, tilted forward on his toes, and stretched himself.

      ‘I’ll be trotting homewards. It’ll be time for by-by when I get to Kennington.’

      CHAPTER 3

      Nancy was undisturbed by the promotion of Mary Woodruff. A short time ago it would have offended her; she would have thought her dignity, her social prospects, imperilled. She was now careless on that score, and felt it a relief to cast off the show of domestic authority. Henceforth her position would be like that of Horace. All she now desired was perfect freedom from responsibility,—to be, as it were, a mere lodger in the house, to come and go unquestioned and unrestrained by duties.

      Thus, by aid of circumstance, had she put herself into complete accord with the spirit of her time. Abundant privilege; no obligation. A reference of all things to her sovereign will and pleasure. Withal, a defiant rather than a hopeful mood; resentment of the undisguisable fact that her will was sovereign only in a poor little sphere which she would gladly have transcended.

      Now-a-days she never went in the direction of Champion Hill, formerly her favourite walk. If Jessica Morgan spoke of her acquaintances there, she turned abruptly to another subject. She thought of the place as an abode of arrogance and snobbery. She recalled with malicious satisfaction her ill-mannered remark to Lionel Tarrant. Let him think of her as he would; at all events he could no longer imagine her overawed by his social prestige. The probability was that she had hurt him in

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