Griselda also experienced much difficulty in finding a dwelling place. Having little idea how to set about this search, she attempted several unsuitable neighbourhoods, and a greater number of much more unsuitable landladies. She knew that she needed advice, but hesitated to apply for it to Mr Tamburlane. By the end of her first week in the shop, she was still lodged at the Great Exhibition Hotel, and facing insolvency for lack of a few pounds.
In other ways, however, her acquaintanceship with her employer throve exceedingly. He proved a man precisely of his word: he complimented her ceaselessly and often imaginatively upon her appearance, her ideas, and even her work; but showed no sign at all of ever intending to go further. It seemed to Griselda an admirable attitude for an employer.
The real trouble, of course, was the loss of Louise. The extent and hopelessness of this loss, and also its unnecessariness, saturated Griselda’s thoughts and feelings only by degrees. By Friday, however, she felt so despairing, and her acquaintanceship with Mr Tamburlane had developed so warmly, that she resolved to confide in him, at least in part. It was necessary to confide in someone or die; and she could think of no other possible person among all her few friends and relatives, most of whom were, moreover, geographically unavailable. She was not sure that she would want to live in quarters found by Mr Tamburlane; but in the matter of Louise, and Louise’s disappearance, there might well be less suitable confidants. So early in the morning there was little risk of interruption by customers.
‘Indeed I can help,’ cried Mr Tamburlane, at the conclusion of the mournful tale. ‘You poor thing. And how fortunate today is Friday.’
‘I am glad that something about it is fortunate,’ said Griselda.
‘Friday is the very day of the week for such a sad narration. Friday is the day Miss Otter calls.’
‘Who is Miss Otter?’
‘I shall tell you. There is a certain weekly newspaper. It circulates only privately – to subscribers, you undersand; only to subscribers. Not many people know about it, but it serves a variety of special and important purposes. There is no need for me to be more specific. I am sure I have said enough for you to take me?’ Griselda thought of the St James’s News-Letter; wondered if Mr Tamburlane were talking of something similar; and nodded. The drift of Mr Tamburlane’s words seemed utterly beside the point, and had Griselda spoken, she would have started to weep.
‘The paper is generally known among its subscribers as The Otter. It has, in fact, an entirely different, rather dull name, which is printed at the top of every copy; but The Otter it has been for years, simply as a tribute to Miss Otter’s personality, Miss Otter is the Editor, so to speak; certainly the entrepreneur. She visits me each week and we decide the contents of the next issue. I am proud to say that from time to time it has been owing to me that there has been a further issue. The sum involved is really very tiny. But as the unacknowledged offspring of a rich nobleman – rich even in these days – I happily have some very small resources of my own, with which I endeavour to add to the douceur of life.’
‘Unacknowledged, Mr Tamburlane?’
‘For good and obvious reasons, I’m afraid, Miss de Reptonville. Please don’t think I’m the rightful heir deprived; or even a younger son deprived. Nothing at all like that, I entirely uphold the strictest interpretation of the rules of blood and succession. Without them the nobility would very soon become unfit to govern.’
‘I thought they’d ceased to govern anyway,’ said Griselda, interested in spite of herself.
‘Temporarily they have indeed. But you do not suppose that the present political bacchanal will last many years, I take it? As a wise and beautiful young woman, you cannot be deceived about that?’
‘You will remember that I attended the All Party Dance, Mr Tamburlane.’
‘I am answered as by an oracle. But to return to The Otter. It is fortunate indeed that you decided to confide in me. For The Otter exists largely in order to help with just such problems as yours, Miss de Reptonville. But, as I live, here comes Miss Otter in person.’ He dashed out of the little inner room where this conversation had taken place.
Griselda looked at the new arrival with much curiosity. Miss Otter was a bent little woman, dressed, not very well, entirely in black. She had a quantity of white hair, and a brown wrinkled face, with a huge nose and enigmatic eyes. She wore no hat, but a wide black velvet band across her white hair.
Mr Tamburlane introduced Griselda. Miss Otter accepted the introduction after the affable style of an important personage, took Griselda by the hand, and remarked: ‘I perceive you are in much distress of mind. I am grieved. Please accept my sympathy.’ The last request was delivered somewhat in the tone of a dethroned Queen.
Griselda could only say: ‘Thank you very much.’
‘You are indeed right, Miss Otter,’ said Mr Tamburlane, ‘as always. Miss de Reptonville lives under a heavy burden. But fortunately you and I may be privileged to assist in lightening those slender shoulders.’
‘It will not be our first such case,’ said Miss Otter, smiling graciously.
‘Nor yet our our one hundred and first, if it were possible to keep a reckoning. Now, Miss de Reptonville, I leave the shop entirely in your management. Miss Otter and I have affairs to discuss. If any problems arise, you must call upon your own good judgement to solve them. For Miss Otter and I must on no account be disturbed. Help yourself to sherry and biscuits if you require to relieve responsibility with refreshment. Miss Otter and I shall not emerge until teatime. When I am sure we shall all be very ready for crumpets and anchovy toast.’ He waved Miss Otter into the inner room and entering behind her, shut the door. Griselda noticed that Miss Otter carried a portfolio of papers and had a slight limp.
As usual there were few customers, though a young man who wanted a book on the botany of the Andes, became quite offensive when Griselda, after much searching, was unable to find him one. A tired woman brought her son, aged about ten, to select his own birthday present. She seemed prepared to spend up to fifteen shillings, and urged the claims of a book of scientific wonders illustrated with many polychromatic plates, and acres of isonometry. The boy insisted on a copy of the Everyman Mabinogion. Despite the economy, his Mother seemed angry and disappointed An elderly man prefaced his requirements by presenting Griselda with his card: Professor O. O. Gasteneetsia, FRS. The Professor then showed Griselda a minute cutting from a penny daily. It advised a book entitled ‘What About A Rumba?’ Griselda offered to order it for him. But he kept saying ‘Tonight. I come again tonight’ until drawn from the shop by a newsboy shouting about a crisis of some kind.
Griselda wondered whether she should procure crumpets and anchovies, but hesitated to leave the shop. The neighbourhood, moreover, seemed unpropitious, at least for crumpets. At about 5.15, however, when she had drunk all the sherry and eaten all the biscuits, and still felt exceedingly famished, a pleasing smell began to fill the shop. At 5.25, the inner door opened and Mr Tamburlane called to her: ‘Enter, Miss de Reptonville. The fatted calf is dead. Alas! that Miss Otter has to leave us.’