Morlvera

by H.H. Munro (SAKI)

　　

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The Olympic Toy Emporium occupied a conspicuous frontage in an importantWest End street. It was happily named Toy Emporium, because one wouldnever have dreamed of according it the familiar and yet pulse-quickeningname of toyshop. There was an air of cold splendour and elaboratefailure about the wares that were set out in its ample windows; they werethe sort of toys that a tired shop-assistant displays and explains atChristmas time to exclamatory parents and bored, silent children. Theanimal toys looked more like natural history models than the comfortable,sympathetic companions that one would wish, at a certain age, to take tobed with one, and to smuggle into the bath-room. The mechanical toysincessantly did things that no one could want a toy to do more than ahalf a dozen times in its lifetime; it was a merciful reflection that inany right-minded nursery the lifetime would certainly be short. Prominent among the elegantly-dressed dolls that filled an entire sectionof the window frontage was a large hobble-skirted lady in a confection ofpeach-coloured velvet, elaborately set off with leopard skin accessories,if one may use such a conveniently comprehensive word in describing anintricate feminine toilette. She lacked nothing that is to be found in acarefully detailed fashion-plate--in fact, she might be said to havesomething more than the average fashion-plate female possesses; in placeof a vacant, expressionless stare she had character in her face. It mustbe admitted that it was bad character, cold, hostile, inquisitorial, witha sinister lowering of one eyebrow and a merciless hardness about thecorners of the mouth. One might have imagined histories about her by thehour, histories in which unworthy ambition, the desire for money, and anentire absence of all decent feeling would play a conspicuous part. As a matter of fact, she was not without her judges and biographers, evenin this shop-window stage of her career. Emmeline, aged ten, and Bert,aged seven, had halted on the way from their obscure back street to theminnow-stocked water of St. James's Park, and were critically examiningthe hobble-skirted doll, and dissecting her character in no very tolerantspirit. There is probably a latent enmity between the necessarily under-clad and the unnecessarily overdressed, but a little kindness and goodfellowship on the part of the latter will often change the sentiment toadmiring devotion; if the lady in peach-coloured velvet and leopard skinhad worn a pleasant expression in addition to her other elaboratefurnishings, Emmeline at least might have respected and even loved her.As it was, she gave her a horrible reputation, based chiefly on asecondhand knowledge of gilded depravity derived from the conversation ofthose who were skilled in the art of novelette reading; Bert filled in afew damaging details from his own limited imagination. "She's a bad lot, that one is," declared Emmeline, after a longunfriendly stare; "'er 'usbind 'ates 'er." "'E knocks 'er abart," said Bert, with enthusiasm. "No, 'e don't, cos 'e's dead; she poisoned 'im slow and gradual, so thatnobody didn't know. Now she wants to marry a lord, with 'eaps and 'eapsof money. 'E's got a wife already, but she's going to poison 'er, too." "She's a bad lot," said Bert with growing hostility. "'Er mother 'ates her, and she's afraid of 'er, too, cos she's got aserkestic tongue; always talking serkesms, she is. She's greedy, too; ifthere's fish going, she eats 'er own share and 'er little girl's as well,though the little girl is dellikit." "She 'ad a little boy once," said Bert, "but she pushed 'im into thewater when nobody wasn't looking." "No she didn't," said Emmeline, "she sent 'im away to be kep' by poorpeople, so 'er 'usbind wouldn't know where 'e was. They ill-treat 'imsomethink cruel." "Wot's 'er nime?" asked Bert, thinking that it was time that sointeresting a personality should be labelled. "'Er nime?" said Emmeline, thinking hard, "'er nime's Morlvera." It wasas near as she could get to the name of an adventuress who figuredprominently in a cinema drama. There was silence for a moment while thepossibilities of the name were turned over in the children's minds. "Those clothes she's got on ain't paid for, and never won't be," saidEmmeline; "she thinks she'll get the rich lord to pay for 'em, but 'ewon't. 'E's given 'er jools, 'underds of pounds' worth." "'E won't pay for the clothes," said Bert, with conviction. Evidentlythere was some limit to the weak good nature of wealthy lords. At that moment a motor carriage with liveried servants drew up at theemporium entrance; a large lady, with a penetrating and rather hurriedmanner of talking, stepped out, followed slowly and sulkily by a smallboy, who had a very black scowl on his face and a very white sailor suitover the rest of him. The lady was continuing an argument which hadprobably commenced in Portman Square. "Now, Victor, you are to come in and buy a nice doll for your cousinBertha. She gave you a beautiful box of soldiers on your birthday, andyou must give her a present on hers." "Bertha is a fat little fool," said Victor, in a voice that was as loudas his mother's and had more assurance in it. "Victor, you are not to say such things. Bertha is not a fool, and sheis not in the least fat. You are to come in and choose a doll for her." The couple passed into the shop, out of view and hearing of the two back-street children. "My, he is in a wicked temper," exclaimed Emmeline, but both she and Bertwere inclined to side with him against the absent Bertha, who wasdoubtless as fat and foolish as he had described her to be. "I want to see some dolls," said the mother of Victor to the nearestassistant; "it's for a little girl of eleven." "A fat little girl of eleven," added Victor by way of supplementaryinformation. "Victor, if you say such rude things about your cousin, you shall go tobed the moment we get home, without having any tea." "This is one of the newest things we have in dolls," said the assistant,removing a hobble-skirted figure in peach-coloured velvet from thewindow; "leopard skin toque and stole, the latest fashion. You won't getanything newer than that anywhere. It's an exclusive design." "Look!" whispered Emmeline outside; "they've bin and took Morlvera." There was a mingling of excitement and a certain sense of bereavement inher mind; she would have liked to gaze at that embodiment of overdresseddepravity for just a little longer. "I 'spect she's going away in a kerridge to marry the rich lord,"hazarded Bert. "She's up to no good," said Emmeline vaguely. Inside the shop the purchase of the doll had been decided on. "It's a beautiful doll, and Bertha will be delighted with it," assertedthe mother of Victor loudly. "Oh, very well," said Victor sulkily; "you needn't have it stuck into abox and wait an hour while it's being done up into a parcel. I'll takeit as it is, and we can go round to Manchester Square and give it toBertha, and get the thing done with. That will save me the trouble ofwriting: 'For dear Bertha, with Victor's love,' on a bit of paper." "Very well," said his mother, "we can go to Manchester Square on our wayhome. You must wish her many happy returns of to-morrow, and give herthe doll." "I won't let the little beast kiss me," stipulated Victor. His mother said nothing; Victor had not been half as troublesome as shehad anticipated. When he chose he could really be dreadfully naughty. Emmeline and Bert were just moving away from the window when Morlveramade her exit from the shop, very carefully in Victor's arms. A look ofsinister triumph seemed to glow in her hard, inquisitorial face. As forVictor, a certain scornful serenity had replaced the earlier scowls; hehad evidently accepted defeat with a contemptuous good grace. The tall lady gave a direction to the footman and settled herself in thecarriage. The little figure in the white sailor suit clambered in besideher, still carefully holding the elegantly garbed doll. The car had to be backed a few yards in the process of turning. Verystealthily, very gently, very mercilessly Victor sent Morlvera flyingover his shoulder, so that she fell into the road just behind theretrogressing wheel. With a soft, pleasant-sounding scrunch the car wentover the prostrate form, then it moved forward again with anotherscrunch. The carriage moved off and left Bert and Emmeline gazing inscared delight at a sorry mess of petrol-smeared velvet, sawdust, andleopard skin, which was all that remained of the hateful Morlvera. Theygave a shrill cheer, and then raced away shuddering from the scene of somuch rapidly enacted tragedy. Later that afternoon, when they were engaged in the pursuit of minnows bythe waterside in St. James's Park, Emmeline said in a solemn undertone toBert-- "I've bin finking. Do you know oo 'e was? 'E was 'er little boy wotshe'd sent away to live wiv poor folks. 'E come back and done that."

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