Midsummer's Eve

Peterkin said to me: "Let's go and see Joe. I want them to know that I, for one, believe Mr. Cresswell is telling the truth.”

I was glad, for I wanted to do just that.

We walked to the house in St. James's Street and on the way we | Passed several newsvendors.

"All about it," shouted one. "Read about Chloe's lovers," called | another.

I said: "They go on and on about it.”

"That's how they are. If it had not been a well-known person we should have heard nothing about it.”

The blinds were drawn at the windows of the house. We went through the gate and mounted the steps past the two stone lions who stood like sentinels on either side of the door.

Several people stopped to look at us, wondering, I supposed, who we were to call at this house of shame.

The door was eventually opened by a maid who first of all peered at us through the door's glass panel.

Peterkin said: "Good morning. Is Mr. Joe Cresswell at home?”

"No sir. None of the family's here.”

"We want to get in touch. Is Mr. Joe in Surrey?”

"I ain't to say, sir," said the maid. "They've all gone away and that's all I can tell you.”

While we were talking I heard a crack and the sound of breaking glass.

"That's the third stone we've had at the windows. I think it would be better if you was to go. They might think you family.”

She shut the door.

Peterkin and I looked at each other in dismay. He was very angry.

We walked away from the house while several people who were passing watched us with curiosity.

"I wish," I said, "that we could see Joe. I'd like him to know we don't believe all this.”

"Perhaps we could write to Surrey. I think he must be there.”

"Yes, just to let him know that we are thinking of him.”

I wrote to him that day telling him how sorry I was and how we all believed in his father. "This will all blow over," I wrote. "Everyone who knows your family realizes it can't be true.”

I received a short note from Joe thanking me for my sympathy. He told me nothing of his plans and did not suggest a meeting.

In due course the case came before the magistrates. They were all fined for breaking the peace-including Mr. Cresswell, which was an intimation that the story he had told was untrue.

It was a trivial case-there were hundreds like it every day; but it was the end of Joseph Cresswell's career.

I wondered what was going on in his family. I was sure kind, motherly Mrs. Cresswell would believe her husband; and so would every member of the family. But would there be a niggling doubt?

Who would have believed that so much happiness and contentment could be destroyed by such an event?

If only the papers would allow the matter to rest it would have been easier; but they went on. "Our reporter talks to Chloe"; "Chloe's lovers"; "Chloe Kitt's early life, telling us all how she had been left an orphan and had had to fend for herself and had been helped along the road to perdition by men like Joseph Cresswell.”

Peterkin and I went down to Frances's Mission.

It was a big house situated on a main road from which narrow streets branched off.

As we passed I caught a glimpse of the traders in those streets. Stalls had been set up and various goods were displayed-old clothes, fruit, vegetables, hot pies, lemonade and ballads. There was a great babble as the salesmen shouted the qualities of their wares.

On one corner of the street was what appeared to be a lodging house and on the other a gin shop from which two women came lurching in the company of a man.

We hurried past.

We mounted the steps to the front door. It was open and we went in. There was a sparsely furnished hall and as we were wondering how to make our presence known a young man appeared. He was of medium height, brown-haired and grey-eyed; and I was immediately struck by his earnest manner.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

Peterkin said: "We want to see Miss Cresswell.”

"She's not in at the moment. But she should be very soon. She was called out suddenly.

Do come in and sit down.”

We followed him into a room. It contained two chairs and a table and little else.

He offered us the chairs and seated himself on the table.

He said: "Is there anything I can do? I'm one of Miss Cresswell's helpers.”

"We only came to see her.”

"Wonderful, isn't she?" he said. "Here we all admire her very much." He frowned.

I guessed he was trying to tell us that here they were all behind the Cresswell family.

He chatted for a while and told us that he had been with the Mission for two months and was finding it very rewarding; and while we were talking Frances came in.

"Thanks, Matthew," she said. "I see you've been entertaining my visitors.”

"Good day," said Matthew. "It was nice meeting you.”

When we were alone, Frances took Matthew's place on the table.

"It was good of you to come," she said. "This is a terrible business.”

"It's so ridiculous," said Peterkin.

"I know. But it's deadly damaging nonetheless.”

"What is going to happen?" I asked.