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authornfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org>2025-03-03 06:29:16 -0800
committernfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org>2025-03-03 06:29:16 -0800
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-</style>
-<title>HAPPY-GO-LUCKY</title>
-<meta name="PG.Rights" content="Public Domain" />
-<meta name="PG.Title" content="Happy-go-lucky" />
-<meta name="PG.Producer" content="Al Haines" />
-<link rel="coverpage" href="images/img-cover.jpg" />
-<meta name="DC.Creator" content="Ian Hay" />
-<meta name="DC.Created" content="1913" />
-<meta name="MARCREL.ill" content="C. E. Brock" />
-<meta name="PG.Id" content="40487" />
-<meta name="PG.Released" content="2012-08-12" />
-<meta name="DC.Language" content="en" />
-<meta name="DC.Title" content="Happy-go-lucky" />
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-<meta content="Project Gutenberg" name="DCTERMS.publisher" />
-<meta content="Public Domain in the USA." name="DCTERMS.rights" />
-<link href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/40487" rel="DCTERMS.isFormatOf" />
-<meta content="Ian Hay" name="DCTERMS.creator" />
-<meta content="\C. \E. Brock" name="MARCREL.ill" />
-<meta content="2012-08-12" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" name="DCTERMS.created" />
-<meta content="width=device-width" name="viewport" />
-<meta content="EpubMaker 0.3.19b4 by Marcello Perathoner &lt;webmaster@gutenberg.org&gt;" name="generator" />
-<style type="text/css">
-.pageno { position: absolute; right: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 }
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-</style>
-</head>
-<body>
-<div class="document" id="happy-go-lucky">
-<h1 class="document-title level-1 pfirst title">HAPPY-GO-LUCKY</h1>
-
-<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- -->
-<div class="clearpage">
-</div>
-<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- -->
-<div class="align-None container language-en noindent pgheader" id="pg-header" xml:lang="en" lang="en">
-<p class="noindent pfirst">This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
-almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
-re-use it under the terms of the <a class="reference internal" href="#project-gutenberg-license">Project Gutenberg License</a>
-included with this eBook or online at
-<a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/license">http://www.gutenberg.org/license</a>.</p>
-<p class="noindent pnext"></p>
-<div class="noindent vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<div class="align-None container noindent white-space-pre-line" id="pg-machine-header">
-<p class="noindent pfirst white-space-pre-line"><span class="white-space-pre-line">Title: Happy-go-lucky<br />
-<br />
-Author: Ian Hay<br />
-<br />
-Release Date: August 12, 2012 [EBook #40487]<br />
-<br />
-Language: English<br />
-<br />
-Character set encoding: UTF-8</span></p>
-</div>
-<div class="noindent vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-start-line">*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK <span>HAPPY-GO-LUCKY</span> ***</p>
-<div class="noindent vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-produced-by"><span>Produced by Al Haines.</span></p>
-<div class="noindent vspace" style="height: 1em">
-</div>
-<p class="noindent pfirst"><span></span></p>
-</div>
-<div class="align-None container coverpage">
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em">
-</div>
-<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure" style="width: 59%" id="figure-31">
-<img class="align-center" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=" " src="images/img-cover.jpg" />
-<div class="caption figure">
-Cover</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-<div class="align-None container frontispiece">
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em">
-</div>
-<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure" style="width: 63%" id="figure-32">
-<span id="let-me-give-you-one-hint-my-lad"></span><img class="align-center" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=" " src="images/img-front.jpg" />
-<div class="caption figure">
-"LET ME GIVE YOU ONE HINT, MY LAD" (p. <a class="reference internal" href="#id1">48</a>)</div>
-</div>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-</div>
-<div class="align-None center container titlepage white-space-pre-line">
-<p class="pfirst white-space-pre-line x-large">HAPPY-GO-LUCKY</p>
-<div class="vspace white-space-pre-line" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="medium pfirst white-space-pre-line">BY</p>
-<p class="large pnext white-space-pre-line">IAN HAY</p>
-<div class="vspace white-space-pre-line" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst small white-space-pre-line">WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY<br />
-C. E. BROCK</p>
-<p class="medium pnext white-space-pre-line">BOSTON AND NEW YORK<br />
-HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY<br />
-The Riverside Press Cambridge</p>
-<div class="vspace white-space-pre-line" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-</div>
-<div class="align-None center container verso white-space-pre-line">
-<p class="pfirst small white-space-pre-line">COPYRIGHT, 1913, BY IAN HAY BEITH<br />
-ALL RIGHTS RESERVED</p>
-<div class="vspace white-space-pre-line" style="height: 3em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst small white-space-pre-line"><em class="italics white-space-pre-line">Published August, 1913</em></p>
-<div class="vspace white-space-pre-line" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-</div>
-<div class="align-None center container dedication white-space-pre-line">
-<p class="medium pfirst white-space-pre-line">TO<br />
-T. S. A. B.</p>
-<div class="vspace white-space-pre-line" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-</div>
-<div class="align-None container plainpage white-space-pre-line">
-<p class="center large pfirst white-space-pre-line">CONTENTS</p>
-<div class="vspace white-space-pre-line" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="center medium pfirst white-space-pre-line"><em class="italics white-space-pre-line">BOOK ONE</em></p>
-<div class="vspace white-space-pre-line" style="height: 1em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst small white-space-pre-line">YOUTHFUL EXCURSIONS</p>
-<div class="vspace white-space-pre-line" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<ol class="left medium upperroman simple white-space-pre-line">
-<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#a-brief-introduction">A Brief Introduction</a></p>
-</li>
-<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#the-first-freak">The First Freak</a></p>
-</li>
-<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#io-saturnalia">Io Saturnalia!</a></p>
-</li>
-</ol>
-<div class="vspace white-space-pre-line" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="center medium pfirst white-space-pre-line"><em class="italics white-space-pre-line">BOOK TWO</em></p>
-<div class="vspace white-space-pre-line" style="height: 1em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst small white-space-pre-line">A BLIND ALLEY</p>
-<div class="vspace white-space-pre-line" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<ol class="left medium upperroman simple white-space-pre-line" start="4">
-<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#travels-with-a-first-reserve">Travels with a First Reserve</a></p>
-</li>
-<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#very-odious">Very Odious</a></p>
-</li>
-<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#forbidden-fruit-a-digression">Forbidden Fruit--A Digression</a></p>
-</li>
-<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#unearned-increment">Unearned Increment</a></p>
-</li>
-<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#a-relapse">A Relapse</a></p>
-</li>
-<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#the-only-way-out">The Only Way Out</a></p>
-</li>
-<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#still-at-large">Still at Large</a></p>
-</li>
-<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#the-first-turning-to-the-right">The First Turning to the Right</a></p>
-</li>
-</ol>
-<div class="vspace white-space-pre-line" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="center medium pfirst white-space-pre-line"><em class="italics white-space-pre-line">BOOK THREE</em></p>
-<div class="vspace white-space-pre-line" style="height: 1em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst small white-space-pre-line">THE RIGHT ROAD</p>
-<div class="vspace white-space-pre-line" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<ol class="left medium upperroman simple white-space-pre-line" start="12">
-<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#mice-and-men">Mice and Men</a></p>
-</li>
-<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#lucidity-itself">Lucidity Itself</a></p>
-</li>
-<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#another-cosy-chat-with-an-interruption">Another Cosy Chat, with an Interruption</a></p>
-</li>
-<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#a-day-of-calm-reflection">A Day of Calm Reflection</a></p>
-</li>
-<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#an-impossible-family">An Impossible Family</a></p>
-</li>
-<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#the-word-swank">The Word "Swank"</a></p>
-</li>
-<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#de-l-audace-et-encore-de-l-audace-et-toujours-de-l-audace">De L'Audace, et encore de l'Audace, et toujours de l'Audace!</a></p>
-</li>
-<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#sidelights-on-a-public-character">Sidelights on a Public Character</a></p>
-</li>
-<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#rehearsed-effects">Rehearsed Effects</a></p>
-</li>
-<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#unrehearsed">Unrehearsed</a></p>
-</li>
-<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#the-real-tilly">The Real Tilly</a></p>
-</li>
-<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#the-real-mr-welwyn">The Real Mr. Welwyn</a></p>
-</li>
-<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#a-garden-plot-in-russell-square">A Garden Plot in Russell Square</a></p>
-</li>
-<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#purely-commercial">Purely Commercial</a></p>
-</li>
-<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#the-final-freak">The Final Freak</a></p>
-</li>
-</ol>
-<div class="vspace white-space-pre-line" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-</div>
-<div class="align-None container plainpage white-space-pre-line">
-<p class="center large pfirst white-space-pre-line">ILLUSTRATIONS</p>
-<div class="vspace white-space-pre-line" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="left medium pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#let-me-give-you-one-hint-my-lad">"Let me give you one Hint, my Lad"</a> (p. <a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#id1">48</a>) . . . <em class="italics white-space-pre-line">Frontispiece</em></p>
-<div class="vspace white-space-pre-line" style="height: 1em">
-</div>
-<p class="left medium pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#chorus-once-more-please-gentlemen">"Chorus once more, please, Gentlemen!"</a></p>
-<div class="vspace white-space-pre-line" style="height: 1em">
-</div>
-<p class="left medium pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#how-do-you-do-miss-weller-said-lady-adela-mystified-but-well-bred">"How do you do, Miss Weller?" said Lady Adela, mystified but well-bred</a></p>
-<div class="vspace white-space-pre-line" style="height: 1em">
-</div>
-<p class="left medium pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#reflect-urged-the-broker-s-man-gently-resisting-percy-s-efforts-to-eject-him">"Reflect!" urged the Broker's Man, gently resisting Percy's Efforts to eject him</a></p>
-<div class="vspace white-space-pre-line" style="height: 1em">
-</div>
-<p class="left medium pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#this-is-very-naughty-he-announced-reproachfully">"This is very naughty," he announced reproachfully</a></p>
-</div>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst x-large" id="a-brief-introduction">HAPPY-GO-LUCKY</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em">
-</div>
-<p class="center large pfirst">BOOK ONE</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em">
-</div>
-<p class="center large pfirst">YOUTHFUL EXCURSIONS</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst x-large">HAPPY-GO-LUCKY</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="center large pfirst">CHAPTER I</p>
-<p class="center medium pnext">A BRIEF INTRODUCTION</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<!-- -->
-<p class="pfirst">They--that is, the London-and-the-south-thereof
-contingent of the Hivite House at
-Grandwich--always celebrated the first morning of
-the holidays by breakfasting together at the
-Imperial Hotel at Oakleigh, as a preliminary to
-catching the nine-fifty-two.</p>
-<p class="pnext">A certain stateliness--not to say
-pomp--distinguished the function. Negotiations for
-the provision of the feast were opened at an early
-date--usually about half-term--the first step
-taking the form of a dignified but ungrammatical
-communication, cast in that most intricate and
-treacherous of moulds, the third person, to the
-proprietor of the hotel, intimating, after
-compliments, that <em class="italics">Mr. Rumbold</em> (<em class="italics">major</em>), <em class="italics">Hivite House,
-Grandwich School, would be much obliged if our
-party could be supplied with breakfast, and you
-usually do it for half-a-crown as there are a lot of
-us, and if you don't we shall probably go to the
-George, and as the party wishes to catch the train
-Mr. Rumbold would be obliged if you can give it
-to me punctually</em>.</p>
-<p class="pnext">To this mine host would reply with a most
-gratifying typewritten document addressed
-to--<em class="italics">Rumbold, Esq.</em>,--a form of address which
-never fails to please so long as your parents and
-other adult correspondents persist in
-designating you "Master,"--expressing the utmost
-willingness to provide breakfast for Mr. Rumbold's
-party at two-and-sixpence per head
-(which, by the way, was the normal charge),
-and concluding with a tactfully-worded request
-for information (inadvertently omitted from
-Mr. Rumbold's original communication) upon the
-following points:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">(1) The date of the feast.</p>
-<p class="pnext">(2) The number of young gentlemen likely to be present.</p>
-<p class="pnext">(3) The hour of the train which they propose to catch.</p>
-<p class="pnext">During the second half-term Mr. Rumbold's
-leisure would be pleasantly occupied in
-recruiting the breakfast-party and communicating its
-numbers and requirements, intermittently and
-piecemeal, together with searching enquiries re
-kidneys and ultimatums on the subject of
-scrambled eggs, to the rapidly ageing proprietor of
-the Imperial Hotel.</p>
-<p class="pnext">On the joyous morning of departure a dozen
-emancipated Helots, all glorious in bowler hats
-and coloured ties which atoned at a bound for
-thirteen weeks of statutory headgear and <em class="italics">subfusc.</em>
-haberdashery, descended upon the Imperial
-Hotel and sat down with intense but businesslike
-cheerfulness to the half-crown breakfast. On
-these occasions distinctions of caste were
-disregarded. Fag and prefect sat side by side.
-Brothers who had religiously cut one another
-throughout the term were reunited, even
-indulging in Christian names. Gentlemen who had
-fought to a finish behind the fives-court every
-alternate Wednesday afternoon since term began,
-took sweet counsel together upon the respective
-merits of Egyptian and Turkish cigarettes.</p>
-<p class="pnext">On the particular occasion with which we are
-concerned--a crisp morning in December--the
-party numbered twelve. It is not necessary
-to describe them in detail, for ten of them make
-their appearance, in this narrative, at any rate,
-for the first and last time. Let it suffice to say
-that Mr. Rumbold major sat at the head of the
-table and Mr. Rumbold minor at the foot,
-Mr. Rumbold tertius occupying a position about
-halfway down. Among others present might
-have been noticed (as the little society papers
-say) Mr. "Balmy" Coke, Mr. "Oaf" Sandiford,
-Mr. "Buggy" Reid, Mr. "Slimy" Green,
-Mr. "Lummy" Law, and Mr. "Adenoid" Smith.
-More notable figures were Messrs. "Spangle"
-Jerningham and "Tiny" Carmyle--lesser luminaries
-than Rumbold himself, but shining lights
-in the athletic firmament for all that.</p>
-<p class="pnext">One place only was vacant. The company,
-in accordance with what is probably the most
-rigorous social code in existence--schoolboy
-etiquette--had divided itself into two groups.
-The first, consisting of those whose right to a
-place at the head of the table was unquestioned,
-settled down at once with loud and confident
-anticipations of enjoyment. The remainder
-followed their example with more diffidence,
-beginning at the foot of the table and extending
-coyly upwards, those whose claim to a place
-above the salt was beginning to be more than
-considerable punctiliously taking the lowest
-places in order to escape the dread stigma of
-"side." Thus, by reason of the forces of mutual
-repulsion, a gap occurred in the very middle of
-the table, between a nervous little boy in
-spectacles, one Buggy Reid, and the magnificent
-Mr. Jerningham, Secretary of the Fifteen and the
-best racquets-player in the school.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"One short!" announced Rumbold. "Who is it?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">There was a general counting of heads. Mr. Reid
-timidly offered information.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I think it is The Freak," he said.</p>
-<p class="pnext">There was a general laugh.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Wonder what he's up to now," mused
-Mr. Jerningham. "You ought to know, Rummy.
-Your fag, is n't he?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I gave him the bag two terms ago," replied
-the great man contentedly. "Tiny has him now."</p>
-<p class="pnext">He turned to another of the seniors--a
-long-legged youth with a subdued manner.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Still got him, Tiny?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes," said Mr. Carmyle gloomily, "I have
-still got him. It's a hard life, though."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I know," said Rumbold sympathetically.
-"Does he cross-question you about the photographs
-on your mantelpiece?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes," said Carmyle. "He spoke very
-favourably of my youngest sister. Showed me a
-photograph of his own, and asked me to come and
-stay with them in the holidays. Said he thought
-I would have much in common with his father."</p>
-<p class="pnext">There was general merriment at this, for
-Mr. Carmyle was patriarchal, both in appearance and
-habits. But it did nothing to soothe the nerves
-of The Freak himself, who happened at the
-moment to be standing shyly upon one leg outside
-the door, endeavouring to summon up sufficient
-courage to walk in.</p>
-<p class="pnext">He was a small sandy-haired boy with shrewd
-blue eyes and a most disarming smile, and he
-belonged to a not uncommon and distinctly
-unlucky class. There are boys who are shy and
-who look shy. Such are usually left to
-themselves, and gradually attain to confidence. There
-are boys who are bumptious and behave
-bumptiously. Such are usually put through a brief
-disciplinary course by their friends, and
-ultimately achieve respectability. And there are
-boys who are shy, but who, through sheer
-self-consciousness and a desire to conceal their
-shyness, behave bumptiously. The way of such is
-hard. Public School disciplinary methods do not
-discriminate between the sheep and the goats.
-Variations from the normal, whether voluntary
-or involuntary, are all corrected by the same
-methods. Unconventionality of every kind is
-rebuked by stern moralists who have been
-through the mill themselves, and are convinced
-that it would be ungenerous to deprive the
-succeeding generation of the benefits which have
-produced such brilliant results in their own case.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The Freak--Master Richard Mainwaring--entered
-the school-world unfairly handicapped.
-He had never been from home before. He was
-an only son, and had had few companions but
-his parents. Consequently he was addicted to
-language and phraseology which, though meet
-and fitting upon the lips of elderly gentlemen,
-sounded ineffably pedantic upon those of an
-unkempt fag of fourteen. Finally, he was shy
-and sensitive, yet quite unable to indicate that
-characteristic by a retiring demeanour.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Life at school, then, did not begin too easily
-for him. He was naturally of a chirpy and
-confiding disposition, and the more nervous he felt
-the more chirpy and confiding he became. He
-had no instincts, either, upon the subject of
-caste. Instead of confining himself to his own
-impossible order of pariahs, he attempted to
-fraternise with any boy who interested him.
-He addressed great personages by their pet
-names; he invited high potentates to come and
-partake of refreshment at his expense. Now,
-promiscuous bonhomie in new boys is not usually
-encouraged in the great schools of England,
-and all the ponderous and relentless machinery
-available for the purpose was set in motion to
-impress this truth upon the over-demonstrative
-Freak. Most of us know this mighty engine.
-Under its operations many sensitive little boys
-crumple up into furtive and apathetic nonentities.
-Others grow into licensed buffoons, battening
-upon their own shame, cadging for cheap
-applause, thinking always of things to say and
-to do which will make fellows laugh. The Freak
-did neither. He remained obstinately and
-resolutely a Freak. If chidden for eccentricity he
-answered back, sometimes too effectively, and
-suffered. But he never gave in. At last, finding
-that he apparently feared no one,--though
-really this was far from being the case: his most
-audacious flights were as often as not inspired by
-sheer nervous excitement,--the world in which
-he moved decided to tolerate him, and finally
-ended by extending towards him a sort of amused
-respect.</p>
-<p class="pnext">All this time we have left our friend standing
-outside the door. Presently, drawing a deep
-breath, he entered, jauntily enough.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Hallo, Freak, where have you been?" enquired
-Mr. Rumbold.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I felt constrained," replied The Freak, as
-one old gentleman to another, "to return to the
-House upon an errand of reparation."</p>
-<p class="pnext">A full half of the company present were blankly
-ignorant as to the meaning of the word "reparation,"
-so they giggled contentedly and decided
-that The Freak was in good form this morning.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What was the trouble?" asked Jerningham.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"As I was counting my change in the cab,"
-explained The Freak, "I found that I was a
-penny short. (I'll have fried sole, and then
-bacon-and-eggs, please. And chocolate.)"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Shylock!" commented the humorous Mr. Jerningham.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The Freak hastened to explain.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It was the only penny I had," he said: "that
-was why I missed it. The rest was silver. I saw
-what had happened: I had given a penny to
-Seagrave by mistake, instead of half-a-crown."</p>
-<p class="pnext">The thought of Mr. Seagrave, the stern and
-awful butler of the Hivite House, incredulously
-contemplating a solitary copper in his palm,
-what time the unconscious Freak drove away
-two-and-fivepence to the good, tickled the
-company greatly, and the narrator had made
-considerable inroads upon the fried sole before he
-was called upon to continue.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What did you do?" asked Rumbold.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I drove back and apologised, and gave him
-two-and-fivepence," said The Freak simply.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Was he shirty about it?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No; he did n't seem at all surprised," was
-the rather naïve reply.</p>
-<p class="pnext">There was another laugh at this, and Jerningham
-observed:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Freak, you are the limit."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I may be the limit," countered The Freak
-hotly,--ordinary chaff he could endure, but
-Mr. Jerningham had more than once exceeded
-the bounds of recognised fag-baiting that
-term,--"but I am wearing my own shirt, Jerningham,
-and not one of Carmyle's!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">There was a roar at this unexpected riposte,
-for Jerningham, though a dandy of the most
-ambitious type, was notoriously addicted to
-borrowed plumage, and the cubicle of the
-easy-going Carmyle was next his own.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You will be booted for that afterwards, my
-lad," announced the discomfited wearer of
-Mr. Carmyle's shirt.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The Freak surveyed his tormentor thoughtfully.
-After all, he was safe from reprisals for
-nearly five weeks. He therefore replied,
-deliberately and pedantically:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I do not dispute the probability of the
-occurrence. But that won't prevent you," he added,
-reverting to the vernacular, "from feeling jolly
-well scored off, all the same. And"--after a
-brief interval to allow this psychological point
-full play--"mind you send the shirt back to
-Carmyle. I have enough trouble looking after
-his things as it is. Get it washed, and then
-carefully dis--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Carefully <em class="italics">what</em>?" enquired Mr. Jerningham,
-beginning to push back his chair.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The Freak, who had intended to say "disinfected,"
-decided not to endanger his clean collar,
-carefully brushed hair, and other appurtenances
-of the homeward-bound.</p>
-<p class="pnext">--"And carefully despatched per Parcels
-Post," he concluded sweetly. "Hello, you
-fellows--finished?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes: buck up!" commanded Rumbold.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The feast ended in traditional fashion. No
-bill was ever asked for or presented upon these
-occasions. Rumbold major merely took the
-sugar-basin and, having emptied it of its
-contents, placed therein the sum of
-two-and-nine-pence--half-a-crown for his breakfast and
-threepence for the waiters. The bowl was then
-sent round the table in the manner of an
-offertory plate, and the resulting collection was
-handed without ceremony to the fat head-waiter,
-who received it with a stately bow and a few
-well-chosen and long-familiar phrases upon the
-subject of a good holiday and a Merry Christmas;
-after which the members of the party
-dispersed to the railway station and went their
-several ways.</p>
-<p class="pnext">It was characteristic of The Freak that he hung
-behind at the last moment, for the purpose of
-handing a furtive shilling to the inarticulate
-Teuton who had assisted in dispensing breakfast,
-and whose underfed appearance had roused
-beneath the comfortably distended waistcoat
-of our altruistic friend certain suspicions, not
-altogether unfounded, as to the principle upon
-which head-waiters share tips with their
-subordinates.</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center large pfirst" id="the-first-freak">CHAPTER II</p>
-<p class="center medium pnext">THE FIRST FREAK</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">My name is Carmyle. Possibly you may have
-noticed it in the previous chapter, among the list
-of those present at the breakfast at the Imperial.
-It was not a particularly hilarious meal for me,
-for I was leaving Grandwich for good that
-morning; and the schoolboy bids farewell to this, the
-first chapter of his life, with a ceremony--not
-to say solemnity--sadly at variance with the
-cheerfulness or indifference with which he
-sometimes turns the page at the close of later epochs.</p>
-<p class="pnext">I parted from the main body of Hivites at
-Peterborough, for they were bound for London,
-while I had to transfer my person and effects
-to the care of the Great Eastern Railway for
-conveyance to my home in Essex.</p>
-<p class="pnext">At Ely, a little tired of the company and
-conversation of five East Anglian farmers, who
-occupied more than their fair share of room and
-conducted an extremely dull technical
-conversation with quite surprising heat and vehemence
-over my head and across my waistcoat, I walked
-up the platform in search of a little more cubic
-space. At the very front of the train I found a
-third-class compartment containing only a single
-occupant.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Hallo, Freak!" I said. "I thought you were
-bound for London."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Your surmise," replied my late fag, "is correct.
-But there was a slight mishap at Peterborough."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You got left behind?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Practically, yes. In point of fact, I was
-bunged out of the train by Spangle Jerningham."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Why?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"He bought some bananas, and I warned him
-not to. I said some people had been prosecuted
-only last week for eating fruit in a railway carriage."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Silly young idiot!" I replied, falling into the
-trap, even as Jerningham had done. "Why--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"But they <em class="italics">were</em>," persisted The Freak. "They
-were caught sucking dates--off their tickets!
-And as there was no train on for two hours,"
-he concluded, neatly dodging "The Strand
-Magazine," "I decided to come round this way.
-We get to Liverpool Street by four. How far are
-you going?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">I told him, and the train resumed its journey
-through the fenland.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The next stop was Cambridge, where The
-Freak, suddenly remembering that the railway
-ticket in his possession was entirely useless for
-his present purpose, got out to buy another. I
-hung out of the carriage window, wondering
-which of the Colleges the tall yellow-brick
-building just outside the station might be, and gazing
-reverentially upon a group of three young men
-in tweed jackets and flannel trousers, who had
-temporarily torn themselves from the pursuit
-of knowledge for the purpose of bidding farewell
-to the members of a theatrical touring company.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Presently our engine and brake-van removed
-themselves to a place of refreshment down the
-line; whereupon a somnolent horse of mountainous
-aspect, which had been meekly standing by,
-attached by a trace to an empty third-class
-coach, took advantage of their absence to tow its
-burden to the front of our train and leave it there,
-like a foundling on a doorstep, subsequently
-departing in search of further practical jokes.</p>
-<p class="pnext">With that instinctive shrinking from publicity
-which marks the professions of literature, art,
-and the drama, each of the compartments of the
-third-class coach bore a label, printed in three
-colours, announcing that this accommodation
-was reserved for Mr. Wilton Spurge's Number
-One Company--I have always desired to meet
-a Number Two Company, but have never
-succeeded--in "The Sign of the Cross," proceeding
-from Cambridge to Liverpool Street, for
-Walthamstow.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The majority of Mr. Wilton Spurge's followers
-took their seats at once; but three young ladies,
-hugging boxes of chocolate, remained in affectionate
-conversation with the undergraduates upon
-the platform. Most of the gentlemen of the
-company still lingered in the refreshment-room.
-Suddenly there was a gentle tremor throughout
-the train, as the engine and brake-van reluctantly
-backed themselves into a position of contact.
-A whistle blew, and a white flag fluttered far
-down the platform.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"There's no hurry," observed The Freak, who
-had returned from the ticket office and was now
-surveying the passing show with his head thrust
-out of the window under my arm. "That white
-flag only means that the Westinghouse brake is
-working all right."</p>
-<p class="pnext">But the female mind takes no account of
-technical trifles, least of all upon a railway
-journey. To a woman flags and whistles all spell
-panic. At the first blast, a lady (whom I took to
-be the Empress Poppeia) hastily shepherded
-every one within reach into the train, and then
-directed a piercing summons in the direction of
-the refreshment-room. She was seconded by an
-irregular but impressive chorus of admonition
-upon the perils of delay, led by Mercia in person
-and supported by a bevy of Christian Martyrs
-and Roman Dancing-Girls.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The whistle sounded again, and a second flag
-fluttered--a green one this time. There was a
-concerted shriek from the locomotive and the
-ladies, followed by a commotion at the door of
-the refreshment-room, from which eftsoons the
-Emperor Nero, bearing a bag of buns and a copy
-of "The Era," shot hastily forth. He was closely
-followed by Marcus Superbus, running rapidly
-and carrying two bottles of stout. Three Roman
-Patricians with their mouths full, together with
-a Father of the Early Church clinging to a
-half-consumed pork-pie, brought up the rear.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Deeply interested in the progress of the race,
-and speculating eagerly as to whether Pagan or
-Christian would secure the corner-seats, The
-Freak and I failed for the moment to note that
-our own compartment was in danger of invasion.
-But resistance was vain. At the very last
-moment the door was wrenched open by the guard,
-and four human beings were projected into our
-company just as the train began to move. A
-handbag and two paper parcels hurtled through
-the air after them.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Sorry to hurry you, Mr. Welwyn, sir," said
-the guard, standing on the footboard and addressing
-the leader of the party through the window,
-"but we are behind time as it is, with that
-theatrical lot."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"My fault entirely, guard," replied
-Mr. Welwyn graciously. He was a handsome
-scholarly man of about forty. I put him down as a
-University Don of the best type--possibly one
-of the Tutors of a great college. "We should
-have come earlier. And--er"--here followed
-the indeterminate mumble and sleight-of-hand
-performance which accompany the bestowal of
-the British tip--"thank you for your trouble."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Thank you, sir," replied the gratified menial,
-and disappeared into space with half-a-crown
-in his palm. Evidently Mr. Welwyn was a man
-of substance as well as consequence.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You did n't ought to have given him so
-much, father dear!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">This just but ungrammatical observation
-emanated from the female head of the party; and
-despite an innate disinclination to risk catching
-the eye of strangers in public, I turned and
-inspected the speaker. From her style of address it
-was plain that she was either wife or daughter
-to Mr. Welwyn. Daughter she probably was not,
-for she must have been quite thirty; and therefore
-by a process of exhaustion I was led to the
-reluctant conclusion that she was his wife. I say
-reluctant, for it seemed incredible that a suave
-polished academic gentleman could be mated with
-a lady:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">(1) Who would initiate a domestic discussion in the presence of strangers.</p>
-<p class="pnext">(2) Whose syntax was shaky.</p>
-<p class="pnext">(3) Who wore a crimson blouse, with vermilion feathers in her hat.</p>
-<p class="pnext">But it was so. Mr. Welwyn waved a hand
-deprecatingly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"One has one's position to consider, dear,"
-he said. "Besides, these poor fellows are not
-overpaid, I fear, by their employers."</p>
-<p class="pnext">At this, a grim contraction flitted for a moment
-over Mrs. Welwyn's florid good-tempered
-features, and I saw suitable retorts crowding to her
-lips. But that admirable and exceptional
-woman--as in later days she proved herself over and
-over again to be--said nothing. Instead, she
-smiled indulgently upon her extravagant
-husband, as upon a child of the largest possible
-growth, and accepted from him with nothing
-more than a comical little sigh two magazines
-which had cost sixpence each.</p>
-<p class="pnext">I now had time to inspect the other two
-members of the party. They were children. One was
-a little boy--a vulgar, overdressed, plebian,
-open-mouthed little boy--and I was not in the
-least surprised a moment later to hear his mother
-address him as "Percy." (It had to be either
-"Percy" or "Douglas.") He was dressed in a
-tight and rather dusty suit of velveteen, with a
-crumpled lace collar and a plush jockey-cap.
-He looked about seven years old, wore curls down
-to his shoulders, and extracted intermittent
-nourishment from a long and glutinous stick of
-licorice.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The other was a girl--one of the prettiest
-little girls I have ever seen. I was not--and
-am not--an expert on children's ages, but I
-put her down as four years old. She was a plump
-and well-proportioned child, with an abundance
-of brown hair, solemn grey eyes, and a friendly
-smile. She sat curled up on the seat, leaning
-her head against her mother's arm, an oasis of
-contentment and neatness in that dusty railway
-carriage; and I felt dimly conscious that in due
-time I should like to possess a little girl of my
-own like that.</p>
-<p class="pnext">At present she was engaged in industriously
-staring The Freak out of countenance.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The Freak, not at all embarrassed, smiled back
-at her. Miss Welwyn broke into an unmaidenly
-chuckle, and her father put down "The Morning Post."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Why this hilarity, my daughter?" he enquired.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The little girl, who was apparently accustomed
-to academically long words, indicated The Freak
-with a little nod of her head.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I like that boy," she said frankly. "Not the
-other. Too big!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Baby <em class="italics">dearie</em>, don't talk so!" exclaimed
-Mrs. Welwyn, highly scandalised.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I apologise for my daughter's lack of reserve--and
-discrimination," said Mr. Welwyn to me,
-courteously. "She will not be so sincere and
-unaffected in twenty years' time, I am afraid.
-Are you gentlemen going home for the holidays?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">I entered into conversation with him, in the
-course of which I learned that he was a member
-of the University, off on vacation. He did not
-tell me his College.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Do you get long holi--vacations, sir, at
-Cambridge?" I asked. "When do you have to
-be back?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Youth is not usually observant, but on this
-occasion even my untutored faculties informed
-me that Mr. Welwyn was looking suddenly older.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I am not going back," he said briefly. Then
-he smiled, a little mechanically, and initiated a
-discussion on compound locomotives.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Presently his attention was caught by some
-occurrence at the other end of the compartment.
-He laughed.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"My daughter appears to be pressing her
-companionship upon your friend with a distressing
-lack of modesty," he said.</p>
-<p class="pnext">I turned. The Freak had installed his admirer
-in the corner-seat beside him, and, having found
-paper and pencil, was engaged in turning out
-masterpieces of art at her behest. With a flat
-suitcase for a desk, he was executing--so far as
-the Great Eastern Railway would permit him--a
-portrait of Miss Welwyn herself; his model,
-pleasantly thrilled, affectionately clasping one of
-his arms in both of hers and breathing heavily
-through her small nose, which she held about six
-inches from the paper.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Finally the likeness was completed and presented.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Now draw a cow," said Miss Welwyn immediately.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The Freak meekly set to work again.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Then came the inevitable question.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What's her name?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">The artist considered.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Sylvia," he said at length. Sylvia, I knew,
-was the name of his sister.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Not like that name!" said the child, more
-prophetically than she knew.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The Freak apologised and suggested Mary
-Ann, which so pleased his patroness that she
-immediately lodged an order for twelve more
-cows. The artist executed the commission with
-unflagging zeal and care, Miss Welwyn following
-every stroke of the pencil with critical interest
-and numbering off the animals as they were created.</p>
-<p class="pnext">About this time Master Percy Welwyn, who
-had fallen into a fitful slumber, woke up and
-loudly expressed a desire for a commodity which
-he described as "kike." His mother supplied
-his needs from a string-bag. Refreshed and
-appeased, he slept anew.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Meanwhile the herd of cows had been
-completed, and The Freak was, immediately set to
-work to find names for each. The appellation
-Mary Ann had established a fatal precedent, for
-The Freak's employer ruthlessly demanded a
-double title for each of Mary Ann's successors.
-Appealed to for a personal contribution, she
-shook her small head firmly: to her, evidently, in
-common with the rest of her sex, destructive
-criticism of male endeavour was woman's true
-sphere in life. But when the despairing Freak,
-after submitting Mabel-Maud, Emily-Kate,
-Elizabeth-Jane, and Maria-Theresa, made a second
-pathetic appeal for assistance, the lady so far
-relented as to suggest "Seener Angler"--a form
-of address which, though neither bovine nor
-feminine, seemed to me to come naturally enough
-from the daughter of a Don, but caused Mr. and
-Mrs. Welwyn to exchange glances.</p>
-<p class="pnext">At last the tale was completed,--I think the
-last cow was christened "Bishop's Stortford,"
-through which station we were passing at the
-moment,--and the exhausted Freak smilingly
-laid down his pencil. But no one who has ever
-embarked upon that most comprehensive and
-interminable of enterprises, the entertainment
-of a child, will be surprised to hear that Miss
-Welwyn now laid a pudgy fore-finger upon the
-first cow, and enquired:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Where <em class="italics">that</em> cow going?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Cambridge," answered The Freak after consideration.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Next one?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"London."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Next one?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Freak thought again.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Grandwich," he said.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The round face puckered.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Not like it. Anuvver place!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You think of one," said The Freak boldly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The small despot promptly named a locality
-which sounded like "Tumpiton," and passed on
-pitilessly to the next cow.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Where <em class="italics">that</em> one going?" she enquired.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It is n't going: it's coming back," replied
-The Freak, rather ingeniously.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Strange to say, this answer appeared to satisfy
-the hitherto insatiable infant, and the game was
-abruptly abandoned. Picking up The Freak's
-pencil, Miss Welwyn projected a seraphic smile
-upon its owner.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You give this to Tilly?" she enquired, in a
-voice which most men know.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Rather."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Tilly, ducky, don't act so greedy," came the
-inevitable maternal correction. "Give back the
-young gentleman--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It's all right," said The Freak awkwardly.
-"I don't want it, really."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"But--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">There came a shriek from the engine, and the
-train slowed down.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Is this where they collect tickets, father?"
-enquired Mrs. Welwyn, breaking off suddenly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Welwyn nodded, and his wife rather
-hurriedly plucked her daughter from her seat beside
-The Freak and transferred her to her own lap, to
-that damsel's unfeigned dolour.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Sit on mother's knee just now, dearie," urged
-Mrs. Welwyn--"just for a minute or two!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Miss Welwyn, who appeared to be a biddable
-infant, settled down without further objection.
-A moment later the train stopped and the
-carriage door was thrown open.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Tickets, please!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Welwyn and I sat next the door, and I
-accordingly submitted my ticket for inspection.
-It was approved and returned to me by the
-collector, an austere person with what Charles
-Surface once described as "a damned
-disinheriting countenance."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Change next stop," he remarked. "Yours, sir?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Welwyn handed him three tickets. The
-collector appeared to count them. Then his
-gloomy gaze fell upon the unconscious Miss
-Welwyn, who from the safe harbourage of her
-mother's arms was endeavouring to administer
-to him what is technically known, I believe, as
-The Glad Eye.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Have you a ticket for that child, madam?"
-he enquired. "Too old to be carried."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mrs. Welwyn looked helplessly at her husband,
-who replied for her.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes, surely. Did n't I give it to you, my man?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No, sir," said the collector dryly; "you did not."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Welwyn began to feel in his pockets.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"That is uncommonly stupid of me," he
-said. "I must have it somewhere. I thought I
-put them all in one pocket."</p>
-<p class="pnext">He pursued his researches further, and the
-collector waited grimly. I looked at Mrs. Welwyn.
-She was an honest woman, and a fleeting glance
-at her face informed me that the search for this
-particular ticket was to be of a purely academic
-description.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I must trouble you," began the man, "for--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It must be somewhere!" persisted Mr. Welwyn,
-with unruffled cheerfulness. "Perhaps I
-dropped it on the floor."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Let <em class="italics">me</em> look!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Next moment The Freak, who had been a
-silent spectator of the scene, dropped upon his
-knees and dived under the seat. The collector,
-obviously sceptical, fidgeted impatiently and
-stepped back on to the platform, as if to look for
-an inspector. I saw an appealing glance pass from
-Mrs. Welwyn to her husband. He smiled back
-airily, and I realised that probably this comedy
-had been played once or twice before.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The collector reappeared.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"The fare," he began briskly, "is--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Here's the ticket," announced a muffled voice
-from beneath the seat, and The Freak, crimson
-and dusty, emerged from the depths flourishing
-a green pasteboard slip.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The collector took it from his hand and
-examined it carefully.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"All right," he snapped. "Now your own, sir."</p>
-<p class="pnext">The Freak dutifully complied. At the sight of
-his ticket the collector's morose countenance
-lightened almost to the point of geniality. He
-was not to go empty away after all.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Great Northern ticket. Not available on this
-line," he announced.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It's all right, old man," explained my fag
-affably. "I changed from the Great Northern
-at Peterborough. This line of yours is so much
-jollier," he added soothingly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Six-and-fourpence," said the collector.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The Freak, who was well endowed with pocket-money
-even at the end of term, complied with
-the utmost cheerfulness; asked for a receipt;
-expressed an earnest hope that the collector's
-real state of health belied his appearance; and
-resumed his corner-seat with a friendly nod of
-farewell.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Two minutes later this curious episode was at
-an end, and the train was swinging on its way
-to London. Mrs. Welwyn, looking puzzled and
-ashamed, sat silently in her corner; Mr. Welwyn,
-who was not the man to question the workings
-of Providence when Providence worked the right
-way, hummed a cheerful little tune in his. The
-deplorable child Percy slept. The Freak, with a
-scarlet face, industriously perused a newspaper.</p>
-<p class="pnext">As for Miss Tilly Welwyn, she sat happily
-upon a suitcase on the floor, still engaged in
-making unmaidenly eyes at the quixotic young
-gentleman who had just acted, not for the last
-time in his life, as her banker.</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center large pfirst" id="io-saturnalia">CHAPTER III</p>
-<p class="center medium pnext">IO SATURNALIA!</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em">
-</div>
-<p class="center medium pfirst">I</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">Presently my turn came.</p>
-<p class="pnext">A small, spectacled, and entirely inarticulate
-gentleman in a very long gown, after a last glance
-to assure himself that my coat was sufficiently
-funereal and my trousers not turned up, took my
-hand in his; and we advanced mincingly, after
-the manner of partners in a country dance, over
-the tesselated pavement of the Senate House
-until we halted before the resplendent figure of
-the Vice-Chancellor.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Here my little companion delivered himself
-of a hurried and perfunctory harangue, in a
-language which I took to be Latin, but may for all
-I know have been Esperanto. The Vice-Chancellor
-muttered a response which I could not catch;
-impelled by an unseen power, I knelt before him
-and placed my two hands between his: an
-indistinct benediction fell from his lips, gently
-tickling my overheated scalp; and lo! the deed was
-done. I rose to my feet a Master of Arts of
-Cambridge University, at the trifling outlay of
-some twenty pounds odd.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Thereafter, by means of what the drill-book
-calls a "right-incline," I slunk unobtrusively
-past two sardonic-looking gentlemen in white
-bands, and escaped through the open north door
-into the cool solitude of Senate House Passage,
-and ultimately into Trinity Street.</p>
-<p class="pnext">I walked straight into the arms of my friend
-The Freak--The Freak in cap and gown, twenty-two
-years of age, and in his last year at the
-University.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Hallo, Tiny!" was his joyous greeting. "This
-is topping!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Hallo, Freak!" I replied, shaking hands.
-"You got my wire, then?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes, what are you up for? I presume it is a
-case of one more shot at the General Examination
-for the B.A. Degree--what?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">I explained coldly that I had been receiving
-the Degree of Master of Arts.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"As a senior member of the University," I
-added severely, "I believe it is my duty to report
-you to the Proctors for smoking while in academic
-dress."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Freak's repartee was to offer me a cigarette.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Let us take a walk down Trinity Street,"
-he continued. "I have to go and see The Tut."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Who?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"My Tutor. Don't get fossilised all at once,
-old thing!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">I apologised.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What are you going to see him about?" I
-enquired. "Been sent down?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No. I am going to get leave to hold a
-dinner-party consisting of more than four persons,"
-replied my friend, quoting pedantically from
-the College Statute which seeks (vainly) to regulate
-the convivial tendencies of the undergraduate.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Ah," I remarked airily--"quite so! For
-my part, such rules no longer apply to me."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Fatal vaunt! Next moment Dicky was frantically
-embracing me before all Trinity Street.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Brave heart," he announced, "this is providential!
-You are a godsend--a <em class="italics">deus ex machina</em>--a
-little cherub sent from aloft! It never
-occurred to me: I need not go to The Tut for leave
-at all now! It would have been a forlorn hope
-in any case. But now all is well. <em class="italics">You</em> shall come
-to the dinner. In fact, you shall <em class="italics">give</em> it! Then no
-Tut in the world can interfere. Come along, host
-and honoured guest! Come and see Wicky about it!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">As The Freak hustled me down All Saints'
-Passage, I enquired plaintively who Mr. Wicky
-might be.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Wickham is his name," replied The Freak.
-"He is nominally giving the dinner. We are
-going to--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Pardon me," I interposed. "How many people
-<em class="italics">are</em> nominally giving this dinner? So far, we
-have you, Wicky, and myself. I--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It's this way," explained my friend. "Wicky
-is nominally the host; he will do the honours.
-But I have dropped out. The dinner will be
-ordered in your name now. That's all."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Why is Wicky nominally the host?" I enquired,
-still befogged.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"We are all giving the dinner--seven of us,"
-explained The Freak; "all except yourself and
-The Jebber, in fact. Wicky has to be host
-because he is the only man who is not going to
-the dinner disguised as some one else. Now, do
-you understand?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"There are one or two minor points," I remarked
-timidly, "which--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Go ahead!" sighed my friend.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Who," I enquired, "is The Jebber? And why
-should he share with me the privilege of not
-paying for his dinner?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">The Freak became suddenly serious.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"The Jebber," he said, "is a poisonous growth
-called Jebson. He is in his first year. He owns
-bags of money, which he squanders in the wrong
-manner on every occasion. He runs after Blues
-and other celebrities, but has never caught
-one yet. On the other hand, he is rude to porters
-and bedmakers. He gathers unto himself bands
-of admiring smugs and tells them of the fast life
-he lives in town. He plays no games of any kind,
-except a little billiards with the marker, but he
-buttonholes you outside Hall in the evening and
-tells you how much he has won by backing the
-winner of the three o'clock race by wire. I think
-he has a kind of vague notion that he is sowing
-wild oats; but as he seems quite incapable of
-speaking the truth, I have no idea whether he is
-the vicious young mug he makes himself out to be
-or is merely endeavouring to impress us yokels.
-That is the sort of customer The Jebber is."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"And you have invited him to dinner?" I said.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes; it's like this. We stood him as well as we
-could for quite a long while. Then, one evening,
-he turned up in my rooms when half a dozen
-of us were there--he is on my staircase, and I
-had rashly called upon him his first term--and
-after handing out a few fairy tales about his
-triumphs as a lady's man, he pulled a photograph
-from his pocket and passed it round. It was a
-girl--a jolly pretty girl, too! He said he was
-engaged to her. Said it as if--" The Freak's
-honest face grew suddenly hot, and his fingers
-bit ferociously into my arm. "Well, he began to
-talk about her. Said she was 'fearfully mashed
-on him!' That fairly turned our stomachs to
-begin with, but there was more to come. He
-confided to us that she was a dear little thing,
-but not quite up to his form; and he did n't
-intend to marry her until he had sown a few
-more of his rotten wild oats. And so on. That
-settled me, Tiny! So far I had not been so fierce
-about him as the other men. I had considered
-him just a harmless bounder, who would tone
-down when he got into the ways of the place.
-But a fellow who would talk like that before
-a roomful of men about a girl--his own girl--My
-God, Tiny! what would you do with such a thing?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Kill it," I said simply.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"That's what we nearly did, on the spot,"
-said Dicky. "But--well--one feels a delicacy
-about even taking notice of that sort of
-stuff. You understand?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">I nodded. The reserve of the youthful male on
-affairs of the heart is much deeper than that of the
-female, though the female can never recognise
-the fact.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"So we simply sat still, feeling we should like
-to be sick. Then the man Jebson gave himself a
-respite and us an idea by going on to talk of his
-social ambitions. He confided to us that he had
-come up here to form influential friendships--with
-athletic bloods, future statesmen, sons of
-peers, and so forth. He explained that it was
-merely a matter of money. All he wanted was
-a start. As soon as the athletes and peers heard
-of him and his wealth, they would be only too
-pleased to hobnob with him. Suddenly old
-Wicky, who had been sitting in the corner
-absolutely mum, as usual, asked him straight off to
-come and dine with him, and said he would get
-a few of the most prominent men in the 'Varsity
-to come and meet him. We simply gaped at first,
-but presently we saw there was some game on;
-and when The Jebber had removed himself,
-Wicky explained what he wanted us to do. He's
-a silent bird, Wicky, but he thinks a lot. Here
-are his digs."</p>
-<p class="pnext">We had reached a house in Jesus Lane, which
-we now entered, ascending to the first floor.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky rapidly introduced me to Mr. Wickham,
-who had just finished luncheon. He proved to be
-a young gentleman of diminutive stature and few
-words, in a Leander tie. He was, it appeared,
-a coxswain of high degree, and was only talkative
-when afloat. Then, one learned, he was a terror.
-It was credibly reported that on one occasion a
-freshman rowing bow in a trial eight, of a
-sensitive temperament and privately educated, had
-burst into tears and tried to throw away his oar
-after listening to Mr. Wickham's blistering
-comments upon the crew in general and himself in
-particular during a particularly unsteady
-half-minute round Grassy Corner.</p>
-<p class="pnext">He silently furnished us with cigarettes, and
-my somewhat unexpected inclusion in the
-coming revels was explained to him.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Good egg!" he remarked, when Dicky had
-finished. "Go round to the kitchen presently.
-Have dinner in these rooms, Freak. May be
-awkward for the men to get into College all
-togged up."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You see the idea now, Tiny?" said Dicky
-to me. "Wicky is going to be host, and the rest
-of us are going to dress up as influential young
-members of the University. We shall pull The
-Jebber's leg right off!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Do you think you will be able to keep up
-your assumed characters all dinner-time?" I
-asked. "You know what sometimes happens
-towards the end of--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"That's all right," said The Freak. "We are n't
-going to keep it up right to the end. At a given
-signal we shall unveil."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What then?" I enquired, not without concern.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"We shall hold a sort of court martial. After
-that I don't quite know what we will do, but we
-ought to be able to think of something pretty
-good by then," replied The Freak confidently.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Wickham summed up the situation.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"The man Jebson," he said briefly, "must die."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What character are you going to assume?"
-I enquired of The Freak. "Athlete, politician,
-peer, scholar--?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I am the Marquis of Puddox," said my friend,
-with simple dignity.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Only son," added Mr. Wickham, "of the
-Duke of Damsillie. Scotland for ever!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"A Highlander?" I asked.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes," said The Freak gleefully. "I am going
-to wear a red beard and talk Gaelic."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Who are to be the other--inmates?" I asked.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You'll see when the time comes," replied
-Dicky. "At present we have to decide on a part
-for you, my lad."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I think I had better be Absent Friends," I
-said. "Then I need not come, but you can drink
-my health."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Wickham said nothing, but rose to his
-feet and crossed the room to the mantelpiece.
-On the corner of the mirror which surmounted
-it hung a red Turkish fez, with a long black
-tassel. This my host reached down and handed
-to me.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Wear that," he said briefly--"with your
-ordinary evening things."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What shall I be then?" I enquired meekly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Junior Egyptologist to the Fitzwilliam
-Museum," replied the fertile Mr. Wickham.</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em">
-</div>
-<p class="center medium pfirst">II</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">That shrinking but helpless puppet, the Junior
-Egyptologist to the Fitzwilliam Museum, duly
-presented himself at Mr. Wickham's at
-seven-thirty that evening, surmounted by the fez.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Here I was introduced to the guest of the
-evening, Mr. Jebson. He was a pasty-faced, pig-eyed
-youth of about four-and-twenty, in an extravagantly
-cut dress suit with a velvet collar. He
-wore a diamond ring and a soft shirt. He looked
-like an unsuccessful compromise between a
-billiard-marker and a casino croupier at a French
-watering-place. His right forefinger was firmly
-embedded in the buttonhole of a shaggy monster
-in a kilt, whom, from the fact that he spoke a
-language which I recognised as that of Mr. Harry
-Lauder, I took to be the heir of the Duke of
-Damsillie.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The Freak was certainly playing his part as
-though he enjoyed it, but the other celebrities,
-who stood conversing in a sheepish undertone in
-various corners, looked too like stage conspirators
-to be entirely convincing. However, Mr. Jebson
-appeared to harbour no suspicion as to the <em class="italics">bona
-fides</em> of the company in which he found himself,
-which was the main point.</p>
-<p class="pnext">I was now introduced to the President of the
-Cambridge University Boat Club, a magnificent
-personage in a made-up bow tie of light-blue satin;
-to the Sultan of Cholerabad, a coffee-coloured
-potentate in sweeping Oriental robes, in whom
-the dignity that doth hedge a king was less
-conspicuous than a thoroughly British giggle; and
-to the Senior Wrangler of the previous year, who
-wore a turn-down collar, trousers the bagginess
-of which a music-hall comedian would have
-envied, and blue spectacles.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mesmerised by Mr. Wickham's cold eye and
-correct deportment, we greeted one another with
-stately courtesy: but the President of the Boat
-Club winked at me cheerfully; the Sultan of
-Cholerabad, scrutinising my fez, enquired in
-broken English the exact date of my escape
-from the cigarette factory; and the Senior
-Wrangler invited my opinion, <em class="italics">sotto voce</em>, upon
-the cut of his trousers.</p>
-<p class="pnext">In a distant corner of the room, which was
-very dimly lighted,--probably for purposes of
-theatrical effect,--I descried two more
-guests--uncanny figures both. One was a youth in
-semi-clerical attire, with short trousers and white
-cotton socks, diligently exercising what is best
-described as a Private Secretary voice upon his
-companion, a scarlet-faced gentleman in an
-exaggerated hunting-kit--horn and all. The
-latter I identified (rightly) as The Master of the
-University Bloodhounds, but I was at a loss to
-assign a character to The Private Secretary.
-I learned during the evening, from his own lips,
-that he was the Assistant Professor of
-Comparative Theology.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The party was completed by the arrival of a
-stout young gentleman with a strong German
-accent and fluffy hair. He was presented to us
-as The Baron Guldenschwein. (He actually was
-a Baron, as it turned out, but not a German.
-However, he possessed a strong sense of
-humour--a more priceless possession than sixty-four
-quarterings or a castle on the Rhine.)</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dinner was announced, and we took our places.
-Wickham sat at the head of the table, with
-Mr. Jebson on his right and the Marquis of Puddox
-on his left. I took the foot, supported on either
-hand by the President of the Boat Club and the
-Assistant Professor of Comparative Theology.
-The other four disposed themselves in the
-intervening places, the Sultan taking his seat upon
-Jebson's right, with the Baron opposite.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The dinner was served in the immaculate
-fashion customary at undergraduate feasts and
-other functions where long-suffering parents
-loom in the background with cheque-books.
-The table decorations had obviously been selected
-upon the principle that what is most expensive
-must be best, and each guest was confronted
-with a much beribboned menu with his title
-printed upon it. Champagne, at the covert but
-urgent representation of the Assistant Professor
-of Comparative Theology, was served with the
-<em class="italics">hors d'oeuvres</em>.</p>
-<p class="pnext">At first we hardly lived up to our costumes.
-A practical joke which begins upon an empty
-stomach does not usually speed from the mark.
-Fortunately The Freak, who was not as other
-men are in these matters, had entered upon his
-night's work at the very top of his form, and he
-gave us all an invaluable lead. The fish found
-him standing with one foot upon the table,
-pledging Mr. Jebson in language which may have
-been Gaelic, but more nearly resembled the
-baying of one of the University bloodhounds. This
-gave us courage, and presently the Assistant
-Theologian and the M.B.H. abandoned a
-furtive interchange of Rugby football "shop" and
-entered into a heated discussion with the Senior
-Wrangler upon certain drastic alterations which,
-apparently, the mathematical savants of the day
-contemplated making in the multiplication table.</p>
-<p class="pnext">I devoted my attention chiefly to observing
-the masterly fashion in which The Freak and
-the saturnine Mr. Wickham handled Jebson. The
-latter was without doubt a most unpleasant
-creature. The undergraduate tolerates and, too
-often, admires the vicious individual who is
-reputed to be a devil of a fellow. Still, that
-individual usually has some redeeming qualities.
-In the ordinary way of business he probably pulls
-an oar and shoves in the scrimmage as heartily
-as his neighbour: his recourses to riotous living
-are in the nature of reaction from these strenuous
-pursuits. They arise less from a desire to pose
-as a man of the world than from sheer weakness
-of the flesh. He is not in the least proud of them:
-indeed, like the rest of us, he is usually very
-repentant afterwards. And above all, he observes
-a decent reticence about his follies. He regards
-them as liabilities, not assets; and therein lies
-the difference between him and creatures of the
-Jebson type. Jebson took no part in clean open-air
-enthusiasms: he had few moments of reckless
-self-abandonment: to him the serious business
-of life was the methodical establishment of a
-reputation as a <em class="italics">viveur</em>. He sought to excite the
-admiration of his fellows by the recital of his
-exploits in what he called "the world." Such,
-naturally, were conspicuous neither for reticence
-nor truth. He was a pitiful transparent fraud,
-and I felt rather surprised, as I considered the
-elaborate nature of the present scheme for his
-discomfiture, that the tolerant easy-going crew
-who sat round the table should have thought the
-game worth the candle. I began to feel rather
-sorry for Jebson. After all, he was not the only
-noxious insect in the University. Then I
-remembered the story of the girl's photograph, and I
-understood. It was an ill day for The Jebber,
-I reflected, when he spoke lightly of his lady-love
-in the presence of Dicky Mainwaring.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The banquet ran its course. Presently dessert
-was placed upon the table and the waiters
-withdrew. The Sultan of Cholerabad, I noticed, had
-mastered the diffidence which had characterised
-his behaviour during the earlier stages of the
-proceedings, and was now joining freely in the
-conversation at the head of the table. I
-overheard Mr. Jebson extending to him a cordial
-invitation to come up with him to town at the
-end of the term and be introduced to a galaxy of
-music-hall stars, jockeys, and bookmakers--an
-invitation which had already been deferentially
-accepted by Mr. Wickham and the Marquis of
-Puddox. In return, the Sultan announced that
-the harem at Cholerabad was open to inspection
-by select parties of visitors on Tuesdays and
-Thursdays, on presentation of visiting-card.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The spirits of the party in general were now
-rising rapidly, and more than once the tranquillity
-of the proceedings was seriously imperilled.
-After the Baron Guldenschwein had been
-frustrated in an attempt to recite an ode in praise of
-the Master of the Bloodhounds (on the somewhat
-inadequate grounds that "I myself wear always
-bogskin boods"), our nominal host found himself
-compelled to cope with the Assistant Professor
-of Comparative Theology, who, rising unsteadily
-to his legs, proclaimed his intention of giving
-imitations of a few celebrated actors, beginning
-with Sir Henry Irving. The Theologian was in a
-condition which rendered censure and argument
-equally futile. He had consumed perhaps half
-a bottle of champagne and two glasses of port,
-so it was obvious that his present exalted
-condition was due not so much to the depths of his
-potations as to the shallowness of his accommodation
-for the same. I for one, having drunk at
-least as much as he and feeling painfully decorous,
-forbore to judge him. The rest of the company
-were sober enough, but leniently disposed, and
-our theological friend was allowed his way. He
-threw himself into a convulsive attitude, mouthed
-out an entirely unintelligible limerick about a
-young man from Patagonia, and sat down
-abruptly, well pleased with his performance.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Then came an ominous silence. The time for
-business was at hand. Mr. Jebson, still impervious
-to atmospheric influence, selected this moment
-for weaving his own shroud. He rose to his
-feet and made a speech. He addressed us as
-"fellow-sports"; he referred to Mr. Wickham
-as "our worthy Chair," and to myself as "our
-young friend Mr. Vice." The company as a
-whole he designated "hot stuff." After
-expressing, with evident sincerity, the pleasure with
-which he found himself in his present company,
-he revealed to us the true purport of his uprising,
-which was to propose the toast of "The Girls." Under
-the circumstances a more unfortunate
-selection of subject could not have been made.
-The speaker had barely concluded his opening
-sentence when the Marquis of Puddox, speaking
-in his natural tone of voice, rose to his feet and
-brought what promised to be a rather nauseous
-eulogy to a summary conclusion.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Dry up," he rapped out, "and sit down at
-once. Clear the table, you fellows, and get the
-tablecloth off."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Without further ado the distinguished
-company present, with the exception of the
-Theologian, who had retired into a corner by himself
-to rehearse an imitation, obeyed Dicky's behest.
-The decanters and glasses were removed to the
-sideboard, and the cloth was whipped off.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Take this loathsome sweep," continued the
-Marquis in the same dispassionate voice,
-indicating the guest of the evening, now as white
-as his own shirt-front, "and tie him up with
-table-napkins."</p>
-<p class="pnext">The dazed Jebson offered no resistance. Presently
-he found himself lying flat on his back upon
-the table, his arms and legs pinioned by
-Mr. Wickham's table-linen.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Roll him up in the tablecloth," was The
-Freak's next order, "and set him on a chair."</p>
-<p class="pnext">This time Jebson found his tongue.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Gentlemen all," he gasped between revolutions--the
-Master of the Bloodhounds and Baron
-Guldenschwein were swiftly converting him into
-a snowy cocoon--"a joke's all very well in its
-way between pals; but--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Put him on that chair," continued Dicky,
-taking not the slightest notice.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Willing hands dumped the mummified and
-inanimate form of Jebson into an armchair, and
-the unique collection of Sports sat round him in
-a ring.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Then suddenly Dicky laughed.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"That's all, Jebson," he said. "We are n't
-going to do anything else with you. You are not
-worth it."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Jebson, who had been expecting the Death
-by a Thousand Cuts at the very least, merely
-gaped like a stranded carp. He was utterly
-demoralised. To a coward, fear of pain is worse
-than pain itself.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky continued:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"We merely want to inform you that we think
-you are not suited to University life. The great
-world without is calling you. You are wasted
-here: in fact, you have been a bit of a failure.
-You mean well, but you are lacking in
-perception. There is too much Ego in your Cosmos.
-Napoleon, you will remember, suffered from the
-same infirmity. For nearly two terms you have
-deluded yourself into the belief that we think you
-a devil of a fellow. We have sat and listened
-politely to your reminiscences: we have permitted
-you to refer to all the Strand loafers that one has
-ever heard of by their pet names. And all the
-time you have entirely failed to realise that we
-see through you. For a while you rather amused
-us, but now we are fed up with you. You are
-getting the College a bad name, too. We are not
-a very big College, but we are a very old and very
-proud one, and we have always kept our end up
-against larger and less particular establishments.
-So I'm afraid we must part with you. You are
-too high for us. That is all, I think. Would any
-one else like to say anything?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Are n't we going to toy with him a little?"
-asked the Senior Wrangler. "We might
-bastinado him, or shave one side of his head."</p>
-<p class="pnext">But Dicky would have none of it.</p>
-<p class="pnext" id="id1">"Too childish," he said. "We will just leave
-him as he is, and finish our evening. Then he
-can go home and pack his carpet-bag. But"--The
-Freak turned suddenly and savagely upon
-the gently perspiring Jebson--"let me give you
-one hint, my lad. Never again mention ladies'
-names before a roomful of men, or, by God,
-you'll get a lesson from some one some day that
-you will remember to the end of your life! That
-is all. I have finished. The Committee for
-Dealing with Public Nuisances is dissolved. Let us--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I will now," suddenly remarked a confidential
-but slightly vinous voice from the other end
-of the room, "have great pleasure in giving you
-an imitation of Mr. Beerbohm Tree."</p>
-<p class="pnext">And the Assistant Professor of Comparative
-Theology, who had been neglecting the rôle of
-avenging angel in order to prime himself at the
-sideboard for another excursion into the realms
-of mimetic art, struck exactly the same attitude
-as before, and began to mouth out, with
-precisely similar intonation and gesture, the
-limerick which had already done duty in the case of
-Sir Henry Irving.</p>
-<p class="pnext">After this the proceedings degenerated rapidly
-into a "rag" of the most ordinary and healthy
-type. The company, having dined, had ceased
-to feel vindictive, and The Freak's admirably
-appropriate handling of the situation met with
-their entire appreciation. With relief they
-proceeded from labour to recreation. Mr. Jebson
-was unceremoniously bundled into a corner;
-some one opened Mr. Wickham's piano, and in
-two minutes an impromptu dance was in full
-swing. I first found myself involved in an
-extravagant perversion of the Lancers, danced by
-the entire strength of the company with the
-exception of Baron Guldenschwein, who
-presided at the piano. After this the Theologian,
-amid prolonged cries of dissent, gave another
-imitation--I think it was of Sarah Bernhardt--which
-was terminated by a happy suggestion of
-Dicky's that the entertainer should be "forcibly
-fed"--an overripe banana being employed as
-the medium of nourishment. Then the Baron
-struck up "The Eton Boating Song." Next
-moment I found myself (under strict injunctions
-to remember that I was "lady") waltzing madly
-round in the embrace of the Senior Wrangler,
-dimly wondering whether the rôle of battering-ram
-which I found thrust upon me during the
-next ten minutes was an inevitable one for all
-female partners, and if so, why girls ever went
-to balls.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Presently my partner suggested a rest, and
-having propped me with exaggerated gallantry
-against the window-ledge, took off his dickey and
-fanned me with it.</p>
-<p class="pnext">After that we played "Nuts in May."</p>
-<p class="pnext">The fun grew more uproarious. Each man was
-enjoying himself with that priceless <em class="italics">abandon</em>
-which only youth can confer, little recking
-that with the passing of a very few years he
-would look back from the world-weary heights of,
-say, twenty-five, upon such a memory as this
-with pained and incredulous amazement. Later
-still, say at forty, he would look back again, and
-the retrospect would warm his heart. For the
-present, however, our warmth was of a purely
-material nature, and the only Master of Arts
-present mopped his streaming brow and felt glad
-that he was alive. To a man who has worked
-without a holiday for three years either in a
-drawing-office or an engineering-shop in South
-London, an undergraduate riot of the most
-primitive description is not without its points.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"The Eton Boating Song" is an infectious
-measure: in a short time we were all singing as
-well as dancing. The floor trembled: the
-chandelier rattled: the windows shook: Jesus Lane
-quaked.</p>
-<blockquote>
-<div>
-<div class="line-block outermost">
-<div class="line">"Swing, swing, together,"</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</blockquote>
-<p class="pfirst">we roared,</p>
-<blockquote>
-<div>
-<div class="line-block outermost">
-<div class="line">"With your bodies between your--"</div>
-<div class="line"> </div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</blockquote>
-<p class="pfirst"><em class="italics">Crash!</em></p>
-<p class="pnext">The flowing tartan plaid which adorned the
-shoulders of the scion of the house of Damsillie
-had spread itself abroad, and, encircling in a
-clinging embrace the trussed and pinioned form
-of the much-enduring Jebson, had whipped him
-from his stool of penance and caused him, from no
-volition of his own, to join the glad throng of
-waltzers, much as a derelict tree-trunk joins a
-whirlpool. In a trice the Assistant Professor of
-Comparative Theology and the President of the
-University Boat Club, who were performing an
-intricate reversing movement at the moment,
-tripped heavily backwards over his prostrate
-form, while the Most Noble the Marquis of
-Puddox (and lady), brought up in full career by
-the stoutly resisting plaid, fell side by side upon
-the field. The Senior Wrangler and the Junior
-Egyptologist, whirling like dervishes, topped the
-heap a moment later. The Baron Guldenschwein
-and the Master of the Bloodhounds leavened
-the whole lump.</p>
-<p class="pnext">My head struck the floor with a dull thud.
-Simultaneously some one (I think it was the
-Senior Wrangler) put his foot into my left ear.
-Even at this excruciating moment I remember
-reflecting that it would be a difficult matter,
-after this, to maintain a distant or stand-offish
-attitude towards the gentleman who at this
-moment was acting as the foundation-stone of
-our pyramid.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The music ceased, with a suddenness that
-suggested musical chairs, and I was aware of an
-ominous silence. Disengaging my neck from the
-embrace of a leg clad in a baggy silk
-trousering,--evidently it belonged to the Sultan: how he
-got into that galley I have no conception, for
-he had recently relieved the Baron at the piano,--I
-struggled to my hands and knees and crawled
-out of the turmoil upon the floor.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Set amid the constellation of stars which still
-danced round my ringing head, I beheld a sleek
-but burly gentleman in sober black, silk hat in
-hand, standing in the doorway. He was a University
-bull-dog. We were in the clutches of the Law.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Proctor's compliments, gentlemen, and will
-the gentleman what these rooms belong to kindly
-step--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">It was a familiar formula. Wickham, who had
-struggled to his feet, answered at once:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"All right; I'll come down. Wait till I put my
-collar on. Is the Proctor downstairs?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes, sir," said the man.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Who is it?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Mr. Sandeman, sir."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Sandy? Golly!" commented Mr. Wickham,
-swiftly correcting the disorder of his array.
-Several people whistled lugubriously. Wickham
-turned to Dicky.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I'll go down," he said. "You sort out those
-chaps on the floor."</p>
-<p class="pnext">He disappeared with the bull-dog, leaving
-Dicky and myself to disintegrate the happy heap
-of arms and legs upon the carpet. Ultimately
-we uncovered our foundation-stone, black in the
-face, but resigned. We unrolled his winding-sheet,
-cut his bonds, and were administering
-first aid of a hearty but unscientific description
-when there was a cry from Dicky--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Ducker, you young fool, where are you going to?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Ducker, it appeared, was the real name of the
-Assistant Theologian. (As a matter of fact, it
-was Duckworth.) He was already at the door.
-Finding his exit detected, he drew himself up
-with an air of rather precarious dignity, and replied:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I am going to speak to Sandy."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What for?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Sandy," explained Mr. Ducker rapidly, "has
-never seen my imitation of George Alexander as
-the Prisoner of Zenda. He has got to have it now!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Next moment the persevering pantomimist had
-disappeared, and we heard him descending the
-stairs in a series of kangaroo-like leaps.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Come on, Bill," said Dicky to me. "We
-must follow him quick, or there will be trouble."</p>
-<p class="pnext">We raced downstairs into the entrance-hall.
-The open doorway framed the dishevelled figure
-of Mr. Duckworth. He was calling aloud the
-name of one Sandy, beseeching him to behold
-George Alexander. Outside in the gloom of Jesus
-Lane we beheld Mr. Wickham arguing respectfully
-with a majestic figure in a black gown, white
-bands, and baleful spectacles. With a sinking
-heart I recognised one of the two saturnine
-clerical gentlemen in whose presence I had been
-presented for my M.A. degree only a few hours
-before.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Sandy, old son," bellowed Mr. Duckworth
-perseveringly, "be a sportsman and look at me a
-minute!" He was now out upon the doorstep,
-posturing. "Flavia! Fla-a-a-via!" he yowled.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It's no good our pulling him back into the
-house," said Dicky, "or Sandy will have him for
-certain. Let's rush him down the street, and hide
-somewhere."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Next moment, with a hand upon each of the
-histrionic Theologian's shoulders, we were flying
-down Jesus Lane. Behind us thundered the feet
-of one of the minions of the Reverend Hugo
-Sandeman. (The other had apparently been
-retained to guard the door.) Mr. Duckworth,
-suddenly awake to the reality of the situation
-and enjoying himself hugely, required no
-propulsion. In fact, he was soon towing us--so
-fast that Dicky, encumbered by his chieftain's
-costume, and I, who had not sprinted for three
-years, had much ado to hold on to him. The
-bull-dog, who was corpulent and more than
-middle-aged, presently fell behind.</p>
-<p class="pnext">It was raining slightly and there were not many
-people about, for it was close on ten o'clock. We
-emerged at the double from Jesus Lane into
-Sidney Street, and dashed down the first
-available opening. It brought us into a narrow
-alley--one of the innumerable "passages" with
-which Cambridge is honeycombed. Here we
-halted and listened intently.</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em">
-</div>
-<p class="center medium pfirst">III</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">Having now leisure to review the incredible
-sequence of events which had resulted in my
-being hounded through the streets of Cambridge
-by the University authorities,--when by
-University law I should have been one of the
-hounds,--in company with two undergraduates,
-one attired as a sort of burlesque Rob Roy and
-the other in a state of more than doubtful
-sobriety, I embarked upon a series of gloomy but
-useless reflections upon my imbecility. My only
-consolation was derived from the knowledge that
-I no longer wore the insignia of the Junior
-Egyptologist, having mislaid that accursed ornament
-in the course of the evening's revels.</p>
-<p class="pnext">My meditations were interrupted by the voice
-of The Freak.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What shall we do next?" he enquired, with
-great gusto.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Go home," said I, without hesitation.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"How?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Straight on: this passage must lead somewhere."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Does it? Have you ever been down it before?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I can't remember; but--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Well, I have, and it does n't lead anywhere,
-young feller-my-lad. That's why that blamed
-bull-dog of Sandy's has n't followed us up harder.
-He knows he has got us on toast. I expect they 're
-all waiting for us at the mouth of this rat-hole
-now."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Certainly we were in a tight corner. But even
-now The Freak's amazing resource did not fail
-him. We were standing at the moment outside
-a building of rather forbidding aspect, which had
-the appearance of a parish institute. The
-windows of one of the rooms on the ground-floor
-were brightly lighted, and even as we looked a
-large podgy young man, of the Sunday-School
-superintendent type, appeared on the front
-steps. We feigned absorption in a large printed
-notice which stood outside the door.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The podgy man addressed us.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Are you coming in, gentlemen? You'll find
-it worth your while. The professor is only just
-'ere, 'avin' missed 'is train from King's Cross; so
-we are goin' to begin at once." He spoke in the
-honeyed--not to say oily--accents of a
-certain type of "townee" who sees a chance of
-making something out of a 'Varsity man, and his
-conversation was naturally addressed to me. My
-two companions kept modestly in the shadows.
-"First lecture free to all," continued the podgy
-young man, smiling invitingly. "Members of
-the University specially welcomed."</p>
-<p class="pnext">At this moment The Freak emerged into the
-full glare of the electric light, and nudged me
-meaningly in the ribs.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I have two friends with me," I said--"one
-from Scotland--er--the North of Scotland.
-I am taking them for an after-dinner stroll, to
-view the Colleges, and--er--so on."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"All are welcome," repeated the young man
-faintly, gazing in a dazed fashion at the Marquis
-of Puddox. "Step inside."</p>
-<p class="pnext">What we were in for we did not know. But
-it was a case of any port in a storm, and we all
-three allowed ourselves to be shepherded into a
-room containing some fifteen people, who, to
-judge by the state of the atmosphere, had been
-there some time. Our entrance caused an obvious
-flutter, and distracted the attention of the room
-from a diminutive foreigner in a frayed frock-coat,
-with a little pointed beard and pathetic
-brown eyes, who was sitting nervously on the
-edge of a chair, endeavouring to look collected
-under the blighting influence of a good honest
-British stare. The three newcomers at once
-retired to the only unoccupied corner of the room,
-where it was observed that the clerical member
-of the party immediately adopted a somewhat
-unconventional attitude and composed himself
-to slumber.</p>
-<p class="pnext">At this point the podgy young man, who
-appeared to be the secretary of the club,--some
-society for mutual improvement,--rose to his
-feet and announced that he had great pleasure
-in introducing "the professor" to the company.
-Apparently we were to have a French lesson.
-We had arrived just in time for the opening
-ceremony, which we might enjoy free gratis and for
-nothing; but if we desired to come again--a
-highly improbable contingency, I thought--we
-were at liberty to do so every Thursday evening
-throughout the quarter, at a fee of one guinea.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I think, gentlemen," concluded the secretary,
-"that you will find your money 'as been well laid
-out. We 'ave very 'igh reports of the professor's
-abilities, and I am glad to see that the fame of 'is
-teaching 'as been sufficient to attract a member
-of the University here to-night."</p>
-<p class="pnext">At this he bowed deferentially in our direction,
-and there was some faint applause. To my horror
-Dicky promptly rose to his feet, and, returning
-the podgy young man's bow, delivered himself
-in a resonant Gaelic whinny of the following
-outrageous flight of fancy:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Hech-na hoch-na hoy ah hoo!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">As delivered, I am bound to admit that it
-sounded like a perfectly genuine expression of
-Celtic fervour. Dicky sat down, amid an interested
-murmur, and whispered hurriedly to me:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Interpret, old soul!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">I rose miserably to my feet.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"My friend," I announced, wondering dimly
-how long it would be before the podgy young
-man and his satellites uprose and cast us forth,
-"has replied to your very kind welcome by a
-quotation from one of his national poets,--er,
-Ossian,--which, roughly translated, means that,
-however uncouth his exterior may be, he never
-forgets a kindness!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Which was rather good, I think.</p>
-<p class="pnext">There was more applause, which had the
-disastrous effect of rousing Mr. Duckworth from
-his slumbers. Finding that every one present was
-clapping his hands and looking in his direction,
-he struggled to his feet.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Mr. Chairman, ladies and gentlemen," he
-began cheerfully, "in response to your most
-flattering encore I shall have great pleasure, with
-your attention and permission, in givin' you my
-celebrated imitation"--here he began to stiffen
-into the old familiar epileptic attitude--"of Sir
-George Irving--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">We drew him down, as gently as possible, into
-his seat, and the secretary, slightly disconcerted,
-called upon the lecturer to begin.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The professor rose, and having bowed gallantly
-to the secretary's wife, the only lady present,--a
-courtesy which was acknowledged by that
-young woman, with true British politeness, by
-a convulsive giggle,--proceeded, in language
-which betrayed the fact that although he might
-be able to teach French he could not pronounce
-English, to explain his <em class="italics">modus operandi</em>. He
-proposed, we discovered, to describe in his own
-tongue some familiar scene of everyday life,
-suiting his action to the word, and laying his
-hand, whenever possible, upon the objects
-mentioned in his discourse, in order to assist us in
-grasping his meaning.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">Par exemple</em>," he explained, "if I touch ze
-'at of madam, so"--here he darted across the
-room and laid a playful finger on the brim of
-Mrs. Secretary's rather flamboyant headgear, a
-familiarity which that paragon of British propriety
-greeted with an hysterical "Ow, George!"--"and
-say <em class="italics">chapeau</em>, den you vill onnerstand vat
-I mean."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I doubt it, old son," observed Mr. Duckworth gravely.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"To-night," continued the professor, who had
-fortunately been unable to understand this
-innuendo, "I vill describe a simple scene zat you all
-know--<em class="italics">n'est-ce pas</em>?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Here he struck an attitude, as if to imply that
-they must be careful not to miss this bit, and
-declaimed:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">Ze postman, 'ow 'e brings ze letters.</em>"</p>
-<p class="pnext">This announcement was greeted with a stony
-silence.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I tell you ze title," he added in warning
-tones, "but after now I spik no more Engleesh."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Quite right; I would n't if I were you,"
-remarked Mr. Duckworth approvingly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The professor bowed politely at this
-commendation from such an exalted quarter, and
-plunged into his subject.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">Le facteur, comment il apporte les lettres!</em>"</p>
-<p class="pnext">The audience, composed exclusively of podgy
-young men like the secretary, received this
-exordium with different degrees of self-consciousness,
-after the manner of the Englishman when a
-foreign language is spoken in his presence. Some
-looked extremely knowing, while others stirred
-uneasily in their seats, and regarded each other
-with shamefaced grins.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The professor meanwhile had advanced to the
-window, and was gazing excitedly out into the
-darkness.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">Regardez le facteur qui s'approche!</em>" he cried,
-pointing with his finger in the direction where I
-calculated that the Reverend Hugo and his
-attendant fiends were probably still waiting for
-us; "<em class="italics">dans la rue, là-bas! Il m'apporte peut-être une
-lettre! Mais de qui? Ah, de--</em>" Here he clutched
-his heart convulsively, evidently bent upon a
-touch of humorous sentiment: but a glance at
-the adamantine countenances of his audience
-caused him to change his mind, and he continued,
-rather lamely:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">Je descendrai au rez-de-chaussée. Je m'approche
-à la porte</em>--pardon, m'sieur!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">The last remark was addressed to Mr. Duckworth,
-the professor having stumbled over his
-legs on his way to the door. The Theologian
-responded politely with an imitation of a man
-drawing a cork, and the demonstration proceeded.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">Je saisis le bouton,</em>" continued our instructor,
-convulsively clutching the door-handle. "<em class="italics">Je
-tour-r-r-rne le bouton! J'ouvre la porte! Je
-m'éloigne dans le corridor</em>--Oh, pardon, m'sieur!
-Je vous--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">He had torn open the door with a flourish and
-hurled himself into the passage in faithful
-pursuance of his system, only to collide heavily and
-audibly with some unyielding body outside.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Proctor's compliments, sir," said a deep
-voice, "but if you are in charge 'ere, will you
-kindly come and speak to 'im a minute?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">The Frenchman's answering flood of
-incomprehensible explanation was cut short by the
-secretary, who rose from his seat and hurried out.
-A few questions and answers passed between him
-and the bull-dog, and then we heard their
-footsteps dying away in the direction of the front
-door, where the Reverend Hugo was doubtless
-waiting.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Next moment the company in the room were
-surprised, and I firmly believe disappointed,
-when the three last-joined recruits, after a
-hurried glance round the walls as if for a humbler
-means of exit, rose and unostentatiously quitted
-the apartment by the door.</p>
-<div class="center transition">
-<p class="pfirst">――――</p>
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">Once in the passage, we turned hastily and
-blindly to the left, leaving behind us the front
-door, which was blocked by an animated group
-composed of the secretary, the professor,--what
-he was doing there I do not know: perhaps
-he thought that three more pupils were applying
-for admission,--and the larger of the Reverend
-Hugo's two bull-dogs, while that avenging angel's
-voice could be heard uplifted in a stately
-harangue outside.</p>
-<p class="pnext">We scuttled up the passage and dived through
-the first door that presented itself, closing and
-locking it behind us. On turning up the electric
-light we found ourselves in a large deserted
-room, occupied by two bagatelle tables. It was
-unfortunately lighted from the roof, which put
-escape by the window out of the question.
-However, at the far end we spied another door.
-Through this we rushed, into what appeared to
-be a recreation-room, occupied solely by two
-spectacled gentlemen immersed in a game of
-chess. Their surprise when three total strangers,
-two in unusual dress and all in an obvious hurry,
-invaded the privacy of their apartment, only to
-make a hasty and undignified exit by the
-window, must have been considerable, but we did
-not stay to observe it.</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em">
-</div>
-<p class="center medium pfirst">IV</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">Three weeks later The Freak came up to town
-for his Easter vacation, and dined with me at my
-club, and I heard the end of the tale.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Nothing very dreadful had happened, it
-appeared. Mr. Wickham, having laconically
-accepted full responsibility for the riot in his
-rooms, had been gated at eight for the rest of the
-term. The fact that I had ordered the dinner
-was unknown to the Proctors, and the College
-cook had not enlightened them. The identity of
-the Marquis of Puddox, the Junior Egyptologist,
-and the Assistant Professor of Comparative
-Theology had never been discovered.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"So your guilty secret, old thing," concluded
-Dicky, "is safe. And now I want to invite you
-to another function."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Thank you," I said gruffly, "but I think not.
-What sort of function is it this time?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"A wedding," replied Dicky unexpectedly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Great Scott! Yours?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No--The Jebber's! He has grown quite a
-white man. The little homily which I took the
-liberty of delivering to him that evening, coupled
-with the very light sentence imposed, quite won
-his heart, it appears. He never leaves me now.
-Eats out of my hand. He is going down at the
-end of the May term like a sensible Jebber, and
-he is to be married to his girl in June."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"The girl of the photograph?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes. He has quite got over his wild-oats
-theories, and his girl now has him completely in
-hand. I have seen them together, and I know.
-They are very happy."</p>
-<p class="pnext">My romantic friend sighed comfortably, and
-concluded:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I have promised to be best man."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes; he asked me, and one can't decline.
-You are coming with me, fellow-sport, to
-represent the Senior Members of the University!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">I went. No one ever refuses anything to The Freak.</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center large pfirst" id="travels-with-a-first-reserve">BOOK TWO</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em">
-</div>
-<p class="center large pfirst">A BLIND ALLEY</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="center large pfirst">CHAPTER IV</p>
-<p class="center medium pnext">TRAVELS WITH A FIRST RESERVE</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">I arrived at Shotley Beauchamp (for
-Widgerley and the Sludyard Valley Branch) with my
-heart gradually settling into my boots.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Most of us--men, not women: a woman, I
-fancy, provided she knows that her hat is on
-straight, is prepared to look the whole world in
-the face at any moment--are familiar with the
-sinking sensation which accompanies us to the
-door of a house to which we have been bidden
-as a guest for the first time. We foresee ahead
-of us a long vista of explanations, and for the
-moment we hate explanations more than anything on earth.</p>
-<p class="pnext">First, we shall have to explain ourselves to the
-butler. Then, pending the tardy appearance
-of our host and hostess, we shall have to explain
-ourselves to uninterested fellow-guests. At tea,
-knowing no one, we shall stand miserably aloof,
-endeavouring <em class="italics">faute de mieux</em> to explain our
-presence to ourself, and wondering whether it would
-be decent to leave before breakfast next morning.
-After dressing for dinner we shall come down too
-early, and have to explain ourselves to an embarrassed
-governess and a critical little girl of twelve.
-There for the present our imagination boggles.
-Pondering these things, we enquire bitterly why
-we ever left the club, where, though life may be
-colourless, no questions are asked.</p>
-<p class="pnext">It is true that these illusions dispel themselves
-with the first grip of our host's hand, but they
-usually cling to us right up to the opening of the
-front door; and as I on this particular occasion
-had only got as far as the platform of the local
-station, my soul <em class="italics">adhæsit pavimento</em>.</p>
-<p class="pnext">After the habit of shy persons, I compiled a
-list of my own special handicaps as I sat in my
-solitary smoking-compartment. As far as I can
-remember they ran something like this:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">(1) I have been roaming about the waste
-places of the earth for more than ten years,
-and have entirely lost any social qualities
-that I ever possessed.</p>
-<p class="pnext">(2) For people who like that sort of thing,
-house-parties are well enough. But I do
-not understand the young man of the
-present day, and he apparently does not
-understand me. As for the modern young
-woman, I simply shrink from her in fear.</p>
-<p class="pnext">(3) I have never met my host and hostess in my life.</p>
-<p class="pnext">(4) It is quite possible that The Freak has
-forgotten to tell his parents that he has invited me.</p>
-<p class="pnext">(5) In any case I probably shall not be met
-at the station, and there are never any
-conveyances to be had at these places. Altogether--</p>
-<p class="pnext">At this moment the train drew up at Shotley
-Beauchamp, and a smiling groom opened the
-door and enquired if I were for The Towers.
-Item Number Five was accordingly deleted from
-my catalogue of woes. Two minutes later Items
-One to Four slipped silently away into the limbo
-of those things that do not matter. A girl was
-sitting in the brougham outside the station.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Lady goin' up, too, sir," remarked the groom
-into my ear. "Her maid," he added, "is in the
-dogcart. You got a man, sir?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No."</p>
-<p class="pnext">The groom touched his hat and departed,
-doubtless to comfort the maid.</p>
-<p class="pnext">I paused at the carriage-door, and by means of
-a terrifying cough intimated that I, too, had been
-invited to The Towers, and, although a stranger
-and unintroduced, begged leave in the humblest
-manner possible to assert my right to a seat in
-the brougham.</p>
-<p class="pnext">I was greeted with a friendly smile.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Come in! I expect you are Mr. Carmyle."</p>
-<p class="pnext">I admitted guardedly that this was so, and
-proceeded to install myself in that part of the
-brougham not already occupied by the lady's hat.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"My name is Constance Damer," said my
-companion, as the brougham started. "Perhaps
-you have heard of me?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No," I replied, "I have not."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Not very well put!" said Miss Damer
-reprovingly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I have been abroad for several years," I
-murmured in extenuation.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I know," said my companion, nodding her
-head. "You have been building a dam across
-something in Africa."</p>
-<p class="pnext">I accepted this precise summary of my professional
-career with becoming meekness. Miss
-Damer continued:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"And I suppose you are feeling a little bit lost
-at present."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes," I said heartily, "I am."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You should have said 'Not <em class="italics">now</em>!'" explained
-my companion gently.</p>
-<p class="pnext">I apologised again.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I shall make allowances for you until you
-find your feet," said Miss Damer kindly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">I thanked her, and asked whom I was likely
-to meet at The Towers.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Miss Damer ticked off the names of the party
-on her small gloved fingers. (Have I mentioned
-that she was <em class="italics">petite</em>?)</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Mr. Mainwaring and Lady Adela," she said.
-"You know <em class="italics">them</em>, of course?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No. I saw them once on Speech Day at
-school fifteen years ago. That is all."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Well, they are your host and hostess."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Thank you: I had gathered that," I replied
-deferentially.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Then Dicky."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Dicky? Who is-- Oh, The Frea-- Yes.
-Quite so! Proceed!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What did you call him?" asked Miss Damer,
-frankly curious.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I--well--at school we used to call him The
-Freak," I explained. "Men very often never
-know the Christian names of their closest
-friends," I added feebly. "Who else?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"There is Hilda Beverley, of course. You have
-heard of her?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"N--no. Ought I to have done?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Miss Damer's brown eyes grew quite circular
-with surprise.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Do you mean to tell me," she asked incredulously,
-"that Dicky never informed you that he
-was engaged?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No. You see," I pointed out, anxious to
-clear my friend of all appearance of lukewarmness
-as a lover, "I only met him the other day
-for the first time in fifteen years, and we
-naturally had a good deal to tell one another; and so,
-as it happened--that is--" I tailed off
-miserably under Miss Damer's implacable eye.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You are his greatest friend, aren't you?"
-she enquired.</p>
-<p class="pnext">On reflection I agreed that this was so, although
-I had never seriously considered the matter
-before. Women have a curious habit of cataloguing
-their friends into a sort of order of merit--"My
-greatest friend, my greatest friend but six,"
-and so on. The more sensitive male shrinks from
-such an invidious undertaking. Dicky and I had
-corresponded with one another with comparative
-regularity ever since our University days; and
-when two Englishmen, one hopelessly casual and
-the other entirely immersed in his profession,
-achieve this feat, I suppose they rather lay
-themselves open to accusations of this sort.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"And he never told you he was engaged?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">I shook my head apologetically.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Ah, well," said Miss Damer charitably, "I
-dare say he would have remembered later. One
-can't think of everything in a single conversation,
-can one?" she added with an indulgent smile.</p>
-<p class="pnext">I was still pondering a suitable and sprightly
-defence of masculine reserve where the heart is
-concerned, when the carriage swung round
-through lodge-gates, and the gravel of the drive
-crunched beneath our wheels.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I hope the old Freak and his girl will be very
-happy together," I said, rather impulsively for
-me. "He deserves a real prize."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You are right," said Miss Damer, "he does."</p>
-<p class="pnext">My heart warmed to this little lady. She knew
-a good man when she saw one.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Have they been engaged long?" I asked.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"About a month."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Where did he come across her?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"He did not come across her," replied Miss
-Damer with gentle reproof, as a Mother Superior
-to a novice. "They were brought together."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"That means," I said, "that it is what is called
-an entirely suitable match?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Miss Damer nodded her small wise head.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"From a parental point of view," I added.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"From Lady Adela's point of view," corrected
-Miss Damer. "Mr. Mainwaring, poor old dear,
-has not got one."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"But what about The Freak's point of view?"
-I enquired.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I can hear you quite well in your ordinary
-tone of voice," Miss Damer assured me.</p>
-<p class="pnext">I apologised, and repeated the question.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The girl considered. Obviously, it was a delicate subject.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"He seems quite content," she said at last.
-"But then, he never could bear to disappoint any
-one who had taken the trouble to make
-arrangements for his happiness."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Would you mind telling me," I said, "without
-any mental reservation whatsoever, whether you
-consider that this engagement is the right one for
-him?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Miss Damer's eyes met mine with perfect
-frankness.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No," she said, "I don't. What is more, the
-engagement is beginning to wear rather thin.
-In fact,"--her eyes twinkled,--"I believe
-that Lady Adela is thinking of calling out her
-First Reserve."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You mean--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I mean," said Miss Damer, "that Lady Adela
-is thinking of calling out her First Reserve."</p>
-<p class="pnext">A natural but most impertinent query sprang
-to my lips, to be stifled just in time.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You were going to say?" enquired Miss Damer.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I was going to say what a pretty carriage
-drive this is," I replied rapidly. "You will be
-glad of a cup of tea, though?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes, indeed," replied my companion brightly;
-but her attitude said "Coward!" as plainly as
-could be.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Still, there are some questions which one can
-hardly ask a lady after an acquaintance of only
-ten minutes.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"There is the house," continued Miss Damer,
-as our conveyance weathered a great clump of
-rhododendrons. "Are n't you glad that this long
-and dusty journey is over?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Not <em class="italics">now</em>!" I replied.</p>
-<p class="pnext">My little preceptress turned and bestowed
-on me a beaming smile.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"That is <em class="italics">much</em> better!" she remarked approvingly.</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center large pfirst" id="very-odious">CHAPTER V</p>
-<p class="center medium pnext">VERY ODIOUS</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="center medium pfirst">I</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">We found the house-party at tea in the hall of
-The Towers. The Mainwaring parents proved
-to be a little old gentleman, with grey
-side-whiskers and a subdued manner, and an imposing
-matron of fifty, who deliberately filled the teapot
-to the brim with lukewarm water upon our
-approach and then gave me two fingers to shake.
-To Miss Damer was accorded a "Constance--dear
-child!" and a cold peck upon the right cheek.</p>
-<p class="pnext">After that I was introduced to Dicky's sister
-Sylvia--a tall and picturesque young woman,
-dressed in black velvet with a lace collar. She
-wore the air of a tragedy queen--not, it struck
-me, because she felt like a tragedy queen, but
-because she considered that the pose suited her.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The party was completed by a subaltern
-named Crick--a jovial youth with a <em class="italics">penchant</em>
-for comic songs, obviously attached to the person
-of Miss Sylvia Mainwaring--and of course, The
-Freak's lady-love, Miss Hilda Beverley, to whom
-I was shortly presented.</p>
-<p class="pnext">I am afraid our conversation was not a
-conspicuous success. Miss Beverley was tall,
-handsome, patrician, and cultivated, obviously
-well-off and an admirable talker. Still, it takes two
-to make a dialogue, and when one's own
-contributions to the same, however unprovocative,
-are taken up <em class="italics">seriatim</em>, analysed, turned inside
-out, and set aside with an amused smile by a lady
-who evidently regards a conversation with one
-of her <em class="italics">fiancé's</em> former associates as a chastening
-but beneficial form of intellectual discipline,
-a man may be excused for not sparkling.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Half an hour later, perspiring gently, I was
-rescued by The Freak and conducted to the
-smoking-room.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You never told me you were engaged, old
-man," I said, as we settled down to a little
-much-needed refreshment.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It's a fact, though," replied The Freak
-proudly. "<em class="italics">A marriage has been arranged</em>--and
-all that. Say when."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">And will shortly take place</em>, I suppose?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No immediate hurry," said The Freak easily.
-"There are one or two things that Hilda wants
-to cure me of before we face the starter. This,
-for instance." He held up an extremely dilute
-whiskey-and-soda. "Between meals, that is.
-Likewise my--er--casual outlook on life in
-general."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Miss Beverley will have her hands full," I
-observed.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Think so? She will do it, though," replied
-my renegade friend confidently. "She is a very
-capable girl. Regards me as her mission in life.
-I feel jolly proud about it, I can tell you--like
-one of those reformed drunkards they stand up
-on the platform to tell people what a Nut he used
-to be in the old days, and look at him now! By
-the way, I promised Hilda I would n't use the
-word 'Nut' any more. Check me if I become too
-colloquial, old son. Hilda is rather down on what
-she calls my 'inability to express myself in
-rational English.'"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Colloquialism was not formerly a failing of
-yours, Freak," I said. "As a small boy you were
-rather inclined the other way."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"As a small boy, yes," agreed The Freak.
-"But it is not easy to maintain the pedantic
-habit at a public school," he added feelingly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Do you remember once," I continued, "telling
-old Hanbury, when he dropped upon you for
-giggling in form, that your 'risible faculties had
-been unduly excited by the bovine immobility
-of Bailey minor'?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes, I remember. Hilda would have been
-proud of me that day," replied The Freak,
-sighing over his lost talent. "Now she thinks me too
-flippant and easy-going. Lacking in dignity, and
-so forth. But if you watch me carefully during
-your stay here you will find that I have very
-largely regained my old form. I am getting
-frightfully intellectual. You ought to see us
-reading Browning together before breakfast. It
-is a sublime spectacle. Talking of sublime
-spectacles, we are all going to Laxley Races on
-Tuesday, and I can give you an absolutely dead snip
-for the Cup."</p>
-<p class="pnext">The next ten minutes were devoted to a
-conversation which, from the point of view both of
-subject-matter and expression, must have undone
-the regenerative work of several weeks.
-Fortunately Miss Beverley was adorning herself for
-dinner at the time--the most austere feminine
-intellect goes into <em class="italics">mufti</em>, so to speak, between
-the hours of seven and eight P.M.--and we made
-our provisional selections for Tuesday's
-programme undisturbed.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The student of Browning finished scribbling
-down the names of horses on the back of an
-envelope.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"That is all right," he said. "Plumstone for
-the Shotley Stakes, Little Emily for the Maiden
-Plate, and Gigadibs or Jedfoot for the big race.
-The others can keep. Shall we go up and dress
-for dinner?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">I agreed, and we knocked out our pipes.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What do you think, by the way," enquired
-The Freak casually, "of little Connie Damer?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">I told him.</p>
-<p class="pnext">We were late for dinner.</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em">
-</div>
-<p class="center medium pfirst">II</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">A shy but observant male, set down in an
-English country-house, soon realises, especially when
-he has been compelled for a period of years to
-rely for amusement almost entirely upon his own
-society, the truth of the saying that the proper
-study of mankind is Man--with which is
-incorporated Woman.</p>
-<p class="pnext">At The Towers I became an interested and
-uneasy spectator of the continued reformation of
-my friend Dicky Mainwaring. During the same
-period I had constant opportunities of comparing
-the characters and dispositions of his first
-and (presumably) second choices, Mesdames
-Beverley and Damer, and in a lesser degree of
-his sister Sylvia.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Further acquaintance with Miss Beverley
-confirmed my first impression of her. She struck me
-more and more as exactly the kind of girl whom
-a careful mother would select as a helpmeet for
-a somewhat erratic son. She was cool, aloof,
-capable, and decided, with very distinct ideas
-upon the subject of personal dignity and good
-form. She had already cured her fiancé of many
-regrettable habits. Dicky, I found, no longer
-greeted under-housemaids upon the stairs with
-"Hallo, Annie! How is your bad knee getting
-on?" Instead, he hurried past the expectant
-damsel with averted eyes. He no longer slipped
-warm shillings into the hands of beggar-women
-who assailed him with impossible tales of woe in
-the back drive: instead, he apologetically handed
-them tickets of introduction to the Charity
-Organisation Society, with a packet of which
-Miss Beverley had relentlessly provided him.
-He kept accounts. He answered letters by
-return of post. He perused closely printed
-volumes, and became enrolled in intellectual
-societies with mysterious aims and titles difficult to
-remember.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Tiny, my bonny boy," he enquired of me one
-morning after breakfast, "do you happen to
-have any sort of notion what Eugenics is--or are?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I believe," I replied hazily, "that it is some
-sort of scheme for improving the physique of the
-race."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky nodded appreciatively.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I see," he said. "One of old Sandow's
-schemes. His name is Eugen. That is better
-than I thought. I was afraid it was going to be
-another kind of political economy. Hilda wants
-me to become a local vice-president of the
-Eugenic Society; and as it seems to be a less
-pois--complicated business than most of her enterprises,
-I think I will plank down five bob and win a good
-mark."</p>
-<p class="pnext">And off he went, money in hand, to gain an
-indulgent smile from his Minerva.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Of Sylvia Mainwaring I need only say at
-present that she was a pale shade of Miss
-Beverley.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Miss Constance Damer was the exact opposite
-of Miss Beverley, physically, mentally, and
-spiritually. Miss Beverley was tall, dark, and
-stately; Miss Damer small, fair, and vivacious.
-Miss Beverley was patronising and gracious in
-her manner; Miss Damer's prevailing note was
-unaffected bonhomie. But where Miss Beverley
-slew her thousands, Miss Damer slew her tens of
-thousands; for she possessed what the other did
-not, that supreme gift of the
-gods--charm--magnetism--personality--whatever you like
-to call it. In all my life I have never known a
-human being who attracted her fellow-creatures
-with so little effort and so little intention,
-and who inspired love and affection so
-readily and lastingly, as Constance Damer. She
-never angled for admiration; she bestowed no
-favours; she responded to no advances; but she
-drew all the world after her like Orpheus with
-his lute.</p>
-<p class="pnext">That is all I need say about Miss Damer. This
-narrative concerns itself with the career of my
-good friend The Freak, Dicky Mainwaring; and
-the persevering reader will ultimately discover
-(if he has not already guessed) that Fate had
-arranged The Freak's future on a basis which did
-not include the lady whom I have just described.</p>
-<p class="pnext">With masculine admiration Miss Damer did
-not concern herself overmuch. We all think
-lightly of what can be had in abundance. Not
-that she did not take a most healthy interest in
-noting what mankind thought of her; but her
-interest would undoubtedly have been heightened
-if she could have felt less certain what the verdict
-was going to be. I honestly believe she would
-have been thrilled and gratified if some one had
-passed an unfavourable opinion upon her. But
-no one ever did.</p>
-<p class="pnext">She had no sisters of her own, so large families
-of girls were an abiding joy to her. These received
-her with rapture--especially the shy and gawky
-members thereof--and made much of her,
-sunning themselves in the unaffected kindliness
-of her nature and gloating over her clothes for
-as long as they could keep her. She was greatly
-in request, too, among small boys, for purposes
-of football and the like; but her chief passion in
-life, as I discovered one afternoon when Dicky
-and I surprised her at tea with the coachman's
-family, was a fat, good-tempered, accommodating,
-responsive baby.</p>
-<p class="pnext">As for her character in general, I think its
-outstanding feature was a sort of fearless
-friendliness. (Miss Beverley may have been fearless,
-but she certainly was not friendly.) Constance
-Damer's was the absolute fearlessness of a child
-who has never yet encountered anything to be
-afraid of. It is given to few of us to walk through
-life without coming face to face at times with
-some of its ugliness. Apparently this had never
-happened to Miss Damer. I say "apparently,"
-but such a wise and discerning young person as I
-ultimately found her to be could never really
-have been blind or indifferent to the sadder facts
-of this world of ours. Consequently I often found
-myself enquiring why her attitude towards her
-fellow-creatures as a whole was so entirely
-fearless and trustful, when she must have known that
-so many of them were to be feared and so few
-to be trusted. I fancy the reason must have been
-that she possessed the power of compelling every
-one--man, woman, child, horse, and dog--to
-turn only their best side towards her. Rough folk
-answered her gently, silent folk became chatty,
-surly folk smiled, fretful folk cheered up,
-awkward folk felt at home in her presence; children
-summed up the general attitude by clinging to
-her skirts and begging her to play with them. It
-was impossible to imagine any one being rude to
-her, and certainly I never knew any one who
-was--not even Miss Beverley.</p>
-<p class="pnext">But she never abused her power. She never
-domineered, never put on airs, never ordered us
-about, never revealed her consciousness that we
-were all her servants. That is true greatness.</p>
-<div class="center transition">
-<p class="pfirst">――――</p>
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">As you very properly observe, this is a book
-about Dicky Mainwaring. <em class="italics">Revenons à nos
-moutons</em>!</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center large pfirst" id="forbidden-fruit-a-digression">CHAPTER VI</p>
-<p class="center medium pnext">FORBIDDEN FRUIT--A DIGRESSION</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">Lady Adela stood in the hall, engaged in her
-favourite pursuit of guest-dragooning.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Mr. Mainwaring is not coming," she
-announced. "Dick, Hilda, Constance, Sylvia, and
-Mr. Crick will go in the motor. Mr. Carmyle,
-will you give me your company in the victoria?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">I smiled wanly and thanked her. Perhaps the
-punishment fitted the crime, but it was none the
-less a heavy one. Still, one should not seek out
-forbidden fruit, or tamper with First Reserves.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Briefly, the facts of the case were these.</p>
-<p class="pnext">After breakfast on the day of Laxley Races--a
-blazing August morning--Miss Constance
-Damer invited me to accompany her to the
-orchard to pick green apples.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I have a clean white frock on," she explained,
-"or I would not trouble you."</p>
-<p class="pnext">I assured her that it was no trouble.</p>
-<p class="pnext">We duly reached the orchard, where Miss
-Damer ate three green apples and presented me
-with a fourth, which, fearing a fifth, I consumed
-as slowly as possible, hoping for the sake of our
-first parents that Eve's historic indiscretion took
-place in late September and not early August.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Presently we came to a red-brick wall with a
-south aspect, upon which the noonday sun beat
-warmly. High up upon its face grew plums, fat,
-ripe, and yellow.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Miss Damer threw away the core of an apple
-and turned to me.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I should like a plum," she said, with a seraphic smile.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The wall was fifteen feet high, and the plums
-grew near the top.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I will find a ladder," I replied obediently.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"That would be bothering you too much,"
-said the considerate Miss Damer. "Can't you
-put your foot in that root and pull yourself up by
-the branches?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">The branches, be it said, were gnarled and
-fragile, and lay flat against the wall.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I think the ladder would be better," I
-repeated. "My weight might pull the whole thing
-away from the wall, and then we should have a
-few observations from Lady Adela."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You are right; that would never do," replied
-my right-minded companion gravely. "But I
-don't know where they keep the ladder, and in
-any case it would probably be locked up. What
-a pity I have this white skirt on!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">She turned away. A low tremulous sigh escaped her.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Next moment, feeling utterly and despicably
-weak-minded, I found myself ascending the wall,
-much as a blue-bottle ascends a window-pane.
-Miss Damer stood below with clasped hands.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Do be careful, Mr. Carmyle," she besought
-me. "You might hurt yourself very seriously if
-you fell. I will have that big one, please, just
-above your head."</p>
-<p class="pnext">I secured the object indicated and threw it
-down to her. She caught it deftly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"There is another one on your left," continued
-Eve. "Can you reach it?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">I could, and did.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I will keep this one for you, Mr. Carmyle,"
-said my thoughtful companion as she caught it.
-"I think I will have one more. There is a
-perfectly lovely one there, out to your right. You
-can just get it if you stretch. Throw it down."</p>
-<p class="pnext">The plum in question was a monster, and looked
-ripe to the moment. I straddled myself athwart
-the plum tree, much in the attitude of a man who
-is about to receive five hundred lashes, and
-reached far out to the right.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Another two inches will do it," called out
-Miss Damer encouragingly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">She was right. I strained two inches further,
-and my fingers closed upon the fruit. Simultaneously
-the greater part of the plum tree abandoned
-its adherence to the wall, and in due
-course,--about four-fifths of a second, I should
-say,--I found myself lying on my back in a
-gooseberry-bush, clasping to my bosom the
-greater part of a valuable fruit tree, dimly
-conscious, from glimpses through the interstices of
-my leafy bower, of the presence of a towering
-and majestic figure upon the gravel walk beside
-Miss Damer.</p>
-<p class="pnext">It was Lady Adela Mainwaring, my hostess,
-armed <em class="italics">cap-à-pie</em> in gauntlets, green baize apron,
-and garden hat, for a murderous morning among
-the slugs.</p>
-<p class="pnext">I struggled to a sitting position, slightly dazed,
-and not a little apprehensive lest I should be
-mistaken for a slug.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Neither Miss Damer nor my hostess uttered a
-word, Lady Adela because her high breeding and
-immense self-control restrained her; Miss Damer,
-I shrewdly suspect, because she was engaged in
-bolting the last evidence of her complicity. But
-both ladies were regarding me with an expression
-of pained reproach.</p>
-<p class="pnext">I shook myself free from my arboreal surroundings,
-and smiled weakly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Have you hurt yourself, Mr. Carmyle?"
-enquired Lady Adela.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No, thank you," I replied, wondering if I
-would have received a lighter sentence if I had
-said yes.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"If you should desire to eat fruit at any time,"
-continued Lady Adela in a gentle voice, much as
-one might address an imbecile subject to sudden
-attacks of eccentric mania, "one of the gardeners
-will always be glad to get it for you. You had
-better go in now and dress, as we start for the
-races in half an hour. Constance, dearest, run
-and find Puttick, and ask him if anything can be
-done for this tree."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Miss Damer tripped obediently away in search
-of the head-gardener, and Lady Adela led me
-kindly but firmly past the gooseberry-bushes and
-other sources of temptation to the house.</p>
-<p class="pnext">I did not see Miss Damer again until I met her
-with the others in the hall half an hour later.</p>
-<p class="pnext">She projected a sad smile upon me through her
-motor-veil, and shook her head.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I hope you did n't hurt yourself," she said
-softly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I hope the last plumstone did n't choke you!"
-I replied sternly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">At this moment Lady Adela joined the party,
-and pronounced sentence as recorded at the
-beginning of this chapter. The other five
-accordingly descended the steps and began to
-pack themselves into the motor.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"May I drive, Dicky?" enquired Miss Damer.</p>
-<p class="pnext">No one ever thought of refusing Miss Damer
-anything. Her request was evidently the merest
-matter of form, for she was at the wheel almost
-as soon as she made it. Even Lady Adela merely
-smiled indulgently.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Constance, <em class="italics">dear child</em>!" she murmured.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky carefully packed his <em class="italics">fiancée</em> into the
-back seat, where his sister had already taken her
-place.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You had better sit between us, I think," said
-Miss Beverley.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I am going to sit in front," said Dicky, "in
-case Connie does anything specially
-crack-brained with the car. Crick, old friend, just
-separate these two fair ladies, will you?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Crick obeyed with alacrity. The Freak,
-heedless of a tiny cloud upon Miss Beverley's
-usually serene brow, stepped up beside Miss
-Damer. That lady released her clutch-pedal, and
-the car, spurting up gravel with its back wheels,
-shot convulsively forward and then began to
-crawl heavily on its way.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"We'll put something on for you if you aren't
-in time for the first race, Bill," called The Freak
-to me. "What do you want to back?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">I inflated my lungs, and replied <em class="italics">fortissimo</em>:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Plumstone!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Miss Damer's small foot came heavily down
-upon the accelerator, and the car whizzed down
-the drive.</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center large pfirst" id="unearned-increment">CHAPTER VII</p>
-<p class="center medium pnext">UNEARNED INCREMENT</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">Lady Adela and I studiously avoided all reference
-to gardening or diet upon our six-mile drive
-to Laxley, and reached the course in a condition
-of comparative amicability.</p>
-<p class="pnext">We arrived just in time to hear the roar that
-greeted the result of the first race.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I wonder what has won," I said, as the
-victoria bumped over the grass.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I have never been greatly interested in
-racing," said Lady Adela majestically. "My father
-was devoted to it, and so is my brother
-Rumborough. But I never know one horse from
-another. For instance, I have not the faintest
-notion which of the two animals now drawing us
-is Romulus and which is Remus, although Dick
-says it is impossible to mistake them. But then
-Dick has a name for every animal in the estate.
-Ah! there is the motor, against the railings! That
-is rather a relief. Dear Constance is an excellent
-driver, Dick says, but she is inclined to be
-venturesome."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Miss Damer appears to be a lady of exceptional
-talents," I observed.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes, indeed!" agreed Lady Adela, with, for
-her, quite remarkable enthusiasm. "It is a pity
-she has no money."</p>
-<p class="pnext">I do not know whether the last remark was
-intended as a lamentation or an intimation. But
-I understood now why Miss Damer was only
-First Reserve.</p>
-<p class="pnext">I changed the subject.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I suppose you do not bet, Lady Adela?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I make it a rule," replied my hostess
-precisely, "to put half-a-sovereign on any horse
-whose owner we happen to know. One should
-always support one's friends, should not one?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">I was still pondering in my heart Lady Adela's
-system of turf speculation, wondering whether if
-every animal in the race had belonged to a friend
-she would have backed it, and in any case what
-benefit or otherwise (beyond shortening the price)
-one confers upon an owner by backing his horses
-at all, when the victoria, rolling heavily, came to
-anchor astern of the motor, and Hilda Beverley,
-Sylvia, and Crick, who had been standing upon
-the seats to view the race, turned to greet us.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I had no idea racing was so exciting, dear
-Lady Adela," exclaimed Miss Beverley. "I
-came armed with a copy of 'The Nation,'
-prepared to spend the afternoon in the back seat of
-the car, and here I am quite thrilled."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I am so glad, dear Hilda," said Lady Adela
-graciously. "Dick would have been disappointed
-if you had not enjoyed yourself. Where is that
-boy, by the way?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"He and Connie have gone to collect Mr. Carmyle's
-winnings," said Sylvia.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Has--ha! h'm!--Plumstone won, then?"
-I enquired, timorously avoiding Lady Adela's eye.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes, worse luck!" replied Mr. Crick lugubriously.
-"We were all on Mercutio. But Miss
-Damer stuck to it that Plumstone was the right
-horse, and made Dicky put on five shillings for
-her and five for you. They got three to one, I
-believe."</p>
-<p class="pnext">At this moment Dicky and Miss Damer returned
-from the ring, and I was duly presented
-with six half-crowns.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Three-quarters of an hour till the next race,"
-announced Dicky. "Better have lunch."</p>
-<p class="pnext">By this time the whole party had become
-infected with that fierce spirit of cupidity which
-assails respectable Britons when they find
-themselves in the neighbourhood of that singularly
-uncorrupt animal, the horse; and the succeeding
-half-hour was devoted by seven well-born and
-well-to-do persons to an elaborate consideration
-of the best means of depriving a hard-working
-and mainly deserving section of the community
-of as large a sum of money as possible.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Our symposium resulted in a far from unanimous
-decision. Lady Adela, having studied the
-list of owners' names upon the card, handed me a
-sovereign and instructed me to seek out a
-book-maker who should be both cheap and respectable,
-and back the Earl of Moddlewick's Extinguisher
-and Mr. Hector McCorquodale's Inverary. Mr. Crick,
-the expert of the party, let fall dark hints
-on the subject of a quadruped named The
-Chicken. Dicky and I decided to wait until the
-numbers went up.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Dick, you must positively back a horse for
-me this time," announced Miss Beverley.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You are getting on, Hilda!" replied The
-Freak, obviously pleased to find his beloved in
-sympathy with his simple pleasures.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Miss Beverley handed him five shillings.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"And if the horse does n't win I shall never
-speak to you again," she concluded; and from
-the tone of her voice I could not help feeling that
-she meant what she said.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What is your selection this time, Connie?"
-asked Sylvia.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Miss Damer produced a dirty pink envelope
-and began to open it.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky laughed.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Connie has been patronising a tipster," he said.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I got this," explained Miss Damer, "from a
-man on the course. His name was Lively. He
-was trying to earn an honest living, he said, by
-supplying reliable stable information to
-sportsmen; but he did n't seem to be getting on very
-well, poor thing! People were standing all round
-him in a ring, laughing, and nobody would buy
-any of his envelopes, although he had given lots
-of them the winner of the first race for nothing.
-Just then he caught sight of Dicky and me
-standing on the edge of the crowd. He pushed his way
-towards us, and said that if I bought one of his
-tips, he knew it would bring him luck. He said,"
-Miss Damer added with a smile of genuine
-gratification, "that I was a beautiful young lady. So
-I bought one of his envelopes, and after that a
-lot of other people did, too."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky grinned.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes; that was the point at which we ought to
-have passed along quietly," he said.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Did n't you?" I asked.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Bless you, no! Connie had n't nearly finished.
-She and her friend were as thick as thieves by
-this time. The conversation was just beginning
-to interest them."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What did you find to talk about, Miss
-Damer?" asked Hilda Beverley curiously.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I could n't help wondering," Connie continued,
-"whether he had a wife and children to
-support; so I asked him if he was married. He
-said he was afraid he was, but if ever he became
-a widower he would let me know. We left after that."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Constance, <em class="italics">dear</em> child!" began Lady Adela,
-amid unseemly laughter.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It was all right, Lady Adela," Miss Damer
-assured her. "They were quite a nice crowd, and
-I had Dicky with me."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You are a great deal better able to take care
-of yourself than I am, old lady," said The Freak
-admiringly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">I saw Miss Beverley's fine eyes rest disapprovingly
-for a moment upon her philogynistic
-swain. Then some one asked:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What is your tip, Connie?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Miss Damer scanned her paper.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It's not very well written," she said.
-"Perry--Perry--something."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Periander?" I suggested. "He is on the card."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes--Periander. I shall back him."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Rank outsider," said Mr. Crick's warning voice.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I shall back him all the same," persisted Miss
-Damer, with a little nod of finality. "It would
-n't be fair to Lively's luck if I did n't.
-Mr. Carmyle, will you come and find a bookmaker
-with me?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">We departed together, and pushed our way
-through the crowd to the ring. On our journey
-we passed Miss Damer's protégé, still dispensing
-reliable information in a costume composed of
-check trousers, an officer's scarlet mess-jacket,
-stained and bleached almost beyond recognition
-by the accidents of many race-courses, and
-a large bowler hat adorned with a peacock's
-feather. A broken nose made him conveniently
-recognisable by those (if such there were) who
-might desire to consult him a second time. Miss
-Damer, for whom castaways and lame dogs in
-general seemed to have a peculiar fascination, showed
-a disposition to linger again; but a timely reminder
-as to the necessity of getting our money on at
-once took us past the danger point and saved me
-from participating in a public appearance.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Presently we found ourselves amid the book-making
-fraternity. The numbers of the runners
-had gone up, and lungs of brass were proclaiming
-the odds in fierce competition.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What does 'six to four the field' mean?"
-enquired Miss Damer. "I always forget."</p>
-<p class="pnext">I turned to answer the question, but found
-that it had not been addressed to me. My
-companion was now engaged in animated conversation
-with a total stranger, and for the next five
-minutes I stood respectfully aloof while the pair
-discussed <em class="italics">seriatim</em> the prospects of each horse
-upon the card.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"He says Periander is an outsider," Miss
-Damer informed me, as the man moved away,
-awkwardly raising his hat. "But I think I must
-back him. Cornucopia is a certainty for this
-race, he told me." ("A pinch" was what the
-gentleman had said: I overheard him.) "You
-had better put something on him."</p>
-<p class="pnext">I meekly assented, and after Miss Damer had
-found her bookmaker we adventured ten shillings
-upon Periander and Cornucopia respectively.
-Public estimation of the former animal's
-form was such as to secure odds of ten to one
-for Miss Damer. I was informed that the two
-steeds owned by the Earl of Moddlewick and
-Mr. Hector McCorquodale were not running,
-so a Diogenean search for Lady Adela's cheap
-and respectable bookmaker was not required
-of me.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Suddenly a bell rang.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"They're off!" exclaimed Miss Damer. "We
-can't cross the course now. Come on to this
-stand."</p>
-<p class="pnext">We raced up a flight of steps, and presently
-found ourselves on a long balcony in a position
-which commanded a view of the entire course.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Your jockey," announced Miss Damer to
-me, "is pale blue with chocolate sleeves and cap.
-Mine is red, with white hoops. Can you see them
-anywhere?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I can see mine," I said. "He is having a chat
-with the starter at present, but I have no doubt
-he will tear himself away presently."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"But the others are halfway home!" cried
-Miss Damer in dismay.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"So I perceive."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You poor man!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Never mind!" I replied quite cheerfully.
-There is something very comforting about being
-called a poor man by some people. "Where is
-your friend?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"There, in that bunch of four. He is going
-well, is n't he? That's the favourite, Mustard
-Seed, lying back."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I expect his jockey will let him out after he
-gets into the straight," I said.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"If he isn't very careful," observed Miss
-Damer with perfect truth, "he will get shut out
-altogether."</p>
-<p class="pnext">The horses swept round the last corner and
-headed up the final stretch in a thundering bunch.
-Suddenly Miss Damer turned to me.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"This is fearfully dull for you," she said.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Not at all," I assured her. "My horse has
-just started."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Come in with me on Periander," pleaded my
-companion. "You can only lose five shillings."</p>
-<p class="pnext">I closed with her offer by a nod. Some partnerships
-can be accepted without negotiation or
-guarantee.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Suddenly the crowd gave a roar. The favourite
-had bored his way through the ruck at last. He
-shot ahead. The noise became deafening.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"There goes our half-sovereign!" shrieked
-Miss Damer despairingly in my ear.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Wait a minute!" I bellowed. "Periander
-is n't done for yet."</p>
-<p class="pnext">There came a yet mightier roar from the crowd,
-and as we leaned precariously over the
-balustrade and craned our necks up the course, we
-perceived that a horse whose jockey wore red
-and white hoops was matching the favourite
-stride for stride.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Periander! Periander!" yelled those who
-stood to win at ten to one against.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Mustard Seed!" howled those who stood to
-lose at six to four on.</p>
-<p class="pnext">But they howled in vain. The flail-like whips
-descended for the last time; there was a flash of
-red and white; and Periander was first past the
-post by a length.</p>
-<p class="pnext">We descended into the ring and sought out
-our bookmaker. There was no crowd round him:
-backers of Periander had not been numerous;
-and it was with a friendly and indulgent smile
-that he handed Miss Damer her half-sovereign
-and a five-pound note.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Can you give me two-pounds-ten for this?"
-she asked, handing me the note.</p>
-<p class="pnext">It was useless to protest, so I humbly pocketed
-my unearned increment, and we left the ring in
-search of the rest of our party.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I have never won gold before," announced
-the small capitalist beside me, slipping the coins
-into her chain-purse--"let alone paper." Her
-smiling face was flushed with triumph.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I think I know who will rejoice at your
-victory to-morrow," I said, "and participate in the
-fruits thereof."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Who?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"The coachman's children, the gardener's
-children, the lodge-keeper's children--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">But Miss Damer was not listening.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Poor Lively!" she said suddenly. "He gave
-me that tip, and yet he could n't afford to back
-the horse himself."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Tipsters do not as a rule follow their own
-selections," I said. "I don't suppose, either, that
-Periander's was the only name contained in
-those pink envelopes of his. You really ought
-not--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Why, there he is!" exclaimed Miss Damer,
-upon whom, I fear, my little homily had been
-entirely thrown away.</p>
-<p class="pnext">We had made a detour to avoid the crowd on
-our way back to the carriage, and were now
-crossing an unfrequented part of the course. My
-companion pointed, and following the direction
-of her hand I beheld, projecting above a green
-hillock twenty yards away, a battered bowler
-hat, surmounted by a peacock's feather.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Come this way," commanded Miss Damer.</p>
-<p class="pnext">I followed her round to the other side of the
-hillock. There lay the retailer of stable secrets,
-resting from his labours before the next race.
-Apparently business was not prospering. His
-dirty, villainous face looked unutterably pinched
-and woe-begone. His eyes were closed. Obviously
-he had not lunched. His broken nose appeared
-more concave than ever.</p>
-<p class="pnext">At our approach he raised his head listlessly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Go on, and wait for me, please," said Miss
-Damer in a low voice.</p>
-<p class="pnext">I obeyed. One always obeyed when Miss
-Damer spoke in that tone, and evidently some
-particularly private business was in hand.
-Already the child's impulsive fingers were
-fumbling with the catch of her chain purse.</p>
-<p class="pnext">I took up my stand a considerable distance
-away. I had no fears of Lively. One does not
-snatch at the purse of an angel from heaven. My
-only concern was that the angel's generosity
-might outrun her discretion.</p>
-<p class="pnext">I could hear her making a breathless little
-speech, but Lively said never a word. I was not
-altogether surprised. Probably he was afraid of
-waking up.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Presently she came back to me, smiling
-farewell at her pensioner over her shoulder.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You'll give one of them to your wife, won't
-you?" was the last thing I heard her say.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Then she rejoined me, and we walked on.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"How much money," I enquired severely,
-"will you have left out of your winnings, after
-providing for me and your other friend and the
-families of the coachman and the gardener and
-the lodge-keeper?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Again Miss Damer was not attending.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Poor Lively!" she said softly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">There were tears in her eyes.</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center large pfirst" id="a-relapse">CHAPTER VIII</p>
-<p class="center medium pnext">A RELAPSE</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">The most unpopular man in the group which
-we now rejoined was undoubtedly Mr. Crick, a
-blind faith in whose prescience had induced Miss
-Beverley and Sylvia Mainwaring to adventure
-an aggregate sum of ten shillings upon Mustard
-Seed. Ranking a good second in the order of
-odium came Dicky, who had executed the
-commission. The fact that he had done so under
-protest was deemed to have no bearing on the case.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Miss Damer said nothing about our little
-triumph, and I was well content. There is
-something very intimate and comfortable about a
-secret of this kind.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The great race of the day, the Laxley Cup,
-was now imminent, and, with the exception of
-Lady Adela, who issued to me from the depths
-of the victoria a distinctly somnolent injunction
-to persevere in my support of the property of the
-Earl of Moddlewick and Mr. Hector McCorquodale,
-we departed in a body to back our respective
-fancies.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Miss Beverley seems a bit put out about
-something, my son Richard," I observed, as
-The Freak and I strolled along in the rear of the
-party.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky nodded.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes," he said, "she is. She is a dear, but she
-hates losing money worse than an eye-tooth. I
-must find a winner for her this time, or I shall
-have to listen to a song and chorus. You noticed
-it, too, then?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes. But it was before she lost money. Do
-you think she disapproves of--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Of the way I trot around after Connie--eh?
-No, to do her justice, I don't think she
-minds that a bit. She knows that Connie and I
-have been pals ever since we were quite small
-nippers. Besides," concluded my friend with an
-entirely gratuitous chuckle, "everybody trots
-around after Connie, don't they?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">I admitted briefly that this was so.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No; it is the loss of cash chiefly that makes
-her fractious," continued Dicky. "That, and
-my want of dignity and repose on public occasions."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What sort of exhibition have you been making
-of yourself this time?" I enquired gruffly.
-Dicky's last remark still rankled.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Nothing to signify. Hilda and I were taking
-a stroll on the course together, before you arrived,
-and I stopped to have a brief chat with an aged
-Irish beggar-woman. The old dame had a
-shilling out of me in no time, and we departed under
-a perfect blizzard of benediction. Hilda seemed
-rather miffy about it: said I was making her and
-myself conspicuous. For the Lord's sake, put me
-on to a winner for her, old soul!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Ask Miss Damer," I said. "She is the member
-of this party who picks up reliable information."</p>
-<p class="pnext">But Miss Damer was nowhere to be seen.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"She is somewhere in that seething mob,
-backing horses on her own account," explained Sylvia
-later. "She said she was n't going to bother any
-of the men this time. Do you think it is quite
-safe?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Connie knows her way about," said Dicky.
-"But perhaps we had better go and have a look
-for her. Do you know which bookie she has been
-patronising, Tiny?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes; that gentleman by the railings, with the
-gamboge waistcoat," I replied. "But she is n't
-going to him any more. She has taken money
-off him twice, and considers it unfair to fleece
-him again. We shall find her looking for a man
-with a large bank-balance and no children."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"How will she be able to tell?" enquired that
-simple soul, Mr. Crick.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"From what I know of her," I said, "she will
-ask him."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Loaded with injunctions and commissions from
-the other two ladies, Dicky and I pushed our
-way once more into the crowd of speculators.
-Finding that the Earl of Moddlewick's Ginger
-Jim figured upon the programme and was
-actually proposing to run, I backed that animal on
-Lady Adela's behalf, blushing painfully before
-the thinly veiled amazement and compassion of
-the bookmaker and his clerk. Myself, I supported
-the favourite, for reasons of my own. Dicky
-moved feverishly up and down the line, putting
-money on horse after horse. Apparently Miss
-Beverley was to back a winner this time.</p>
-<p class="pnext">As I concluded my business, I caught sight of
-Miss Damer's lilac frock and big black hat in the
-paddock. She was engaged in an ardent
-conversation with a group of three--two girls and a
-man--and I remember wondering whether they
-were actual friends of hers or acquaintances of
-the moment, drawn unwittingly but perfectly
-willingly into the small siren's net. (As it turned
-out, they were old friends, but I think I may be
-excused for not feeling certain.) I was a little
-disappointed at her preoccupation, for I had
-been hoping for another deed of partnership.</p>
-<p class="pnext">But the starting-bell had rung, and people
-were clambering on to the stands.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Which is my horse, Dick?" enquired Hilda
-Beverley, as we took our places.</p>
-<p class="pnext">This was an obvious poser for my friend.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I'll tell you in a minute," he said, gazing
-diligently through his binoculars. "Yes, yes!" He
-coughed with intense heartiness. "It is doing
-very well--very well, indeed!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"But which one is it?" asked Miss Beverley
-impatiently.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"The one in front," replied The Freak, with
-perfect truth.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The finish was imminent. A hundred yards
-from the post the favourite cracked, and his
-place was taken by a raking black horse with a
-pink jockey, which ultimately won the race with
-a length in hand.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The bulk of the crowd naturally received the
-defeat of the favourite without enthusiasm, but a
-small section near the judge's box raised a loud
-and continuous yell of jubilation. Evidently
-some particular stable had "known something"
-and kept it dark.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What is the name of that black animal?" I
-enquired of Dicky.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Malvolio."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Did you back him?" I enquired loudly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Rather!" yelled Dicky. "Come with me and
-help me to collect Hilda's winnings for her. Back
-directly, dear!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"How many horses did you back in that race?"
-I enquired, as we elbowed our way to the ring.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Seven," said Dicky. "Expensive game,
-executing commissions for your best girl--what?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Let us hope this little victory will have the
-desired effect," I said piously.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It will be cheap at the price," replied Dicky
-with fervour.</p>
-<p class="pnext">At the foot of the stand we found Miss Damer
-taking leave of her three friends. She joined us.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Will you chaperon me into the ring, please?"
-she asked of me politely.</p>
-<p class="pnext">I stopped short and gazed at her.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Do you mean to tell me," I said, "that you
-have won again?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Miss Damer nodded brightly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes," she said.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You backed Malvolio--that outsider?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Miss Damer smiled seraphically. "Yes."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"And where did you get the tip this time?" I
-enquired.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I asked the bookmaker," replied Miss Damer
-simply. "I thought he would know."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"And he gave you Malvolio?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes. I had thought of backing the favourite,
-but he would n't let me. He said Malvolio was
-'a real snip,' but very few people knew about
-him. He was a kind man. Come and help me to
-find him."</p>
-<p class="pnext">We duly discovered her altruistic friend, who
-smiled at me over his client's head in a resigned
-and humorous fashion, as if to imply that there
-are occasions upon which Homer may be excused
-from nodding. "If this be Vanity," his expression
-seemed to ask, "who would be wise?" Who,
-indeed?</p>
-<p class="pnext">Of all Constance Damer's achievements in the
-matter of unduly influencing her fellow-creatures,
-I hold--and always have held--that this was
-the greatest. I have been present at many of her
-triumphs. I have seen her tackle a half-drunken
-ruffian who was ill-treating his wife, not merely
-subjugating him, but sending the pair away
-reconciled and arm-in-arm; I have seen her
-compel crusty and avaricious old gentlemen to pay
-not only largely, but cheerfully, for bazaar-goods
-for which they could have had no possible use,
-and the very purchase of which implicated them
-in the furtherance of a scheme of which they
-heartily disapproved; and I have seen her soothe
-a delirious child into peaceful slumber by the
-mere magic of her touch and voice. But to
-interrupt a hard-working, unsentimental,
-starting-price bookmaker at the busiest moment of his
-day, for the purpose of eliciting from him
-information as to the right horse to back, and to
-receive from him--a man whose very living
-depends upon your backing the wrong one--not
-merely reliable but exclusive information, strikes
-me as a record even for Miss Constance Damer.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Presently Dicky rejoined us.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Collected your winnings?" I enquired.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes--and handed them over. There are
-only two runners in the next race. Come and
-have a look at the merry-go-rounds. I know you
-love them, Connie."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Miss Damer admitted the correctness of this
-statement, but declined to come.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I see Lady Adela over there," she said--"all
-alone. That's not fair. She has a new toque on,
-too, poor thing! I will go and take her for a walk
-round the enclosure. You two can come back
-presently and give us tea. If you discover
-anything really exciting in the way of side-shows I
-will come and see it before the last race."</p>
-<p class="pnext">She flitted away. Two minutes later we saw
-her, looking like a neat little yacht going for a
-walk with a Dreadnought, carefully convoying
-Lady Adela across the course into the enclosure.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What about Miss Beverley and the others,
-Freak?" I asked, as we turned away.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Oh, they are all right," said Dicky shortly.
-"Leave them alone for a bit longer."</p>
-<p class="pnext">From which I gathered that Miss Beverley
-was still suffering from what is known in nursery
-circles as "a little black dog on her back."</p>
-<p class="pnext">A large section of the crowd evidently shared
-our opinion that the next race would be a tame
-affair, for the merry-go-rounds and other
-appurtenances of the meeting were enjoying abundant
-patronage as we approached. We passed slowly
-along the fairway, where hoarse persons implored
-us, <em class="italics">inter alia</em>, to be photographed, win cocoanuts,
-and indulge in three rounds under Queensberry
-Rules with "The Houndsditch Terror."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky, suddenly throwing off his low spirits,
-won two cocoanuts; insisted upon being
-photographed with me upon the beach of a
-<em class="italics">papier-mâché</em> ocean, and, although he drew the line at
-The Houndsditch Terror, submitted his palm to
-an unclean and voluble old lady who desired
-to tell his fortune.</p>
-<p class="pnext">He was cautioned by the beldame against a
-fair man with a black heart--"That's you, old
-son!" he remarked affectionately to me--and
-received warning of impending trouble with a
-dark lady. ("Thanks; I know all about that,"
-he assured her feelingly.) On the other hand,
-he was promised two letters, a journey across the
-ocean, and a quantity of gold--precise amount
-not specified--within a short period of time.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You have a very peculiar nature," was the
-next announcement. "You have paid attention
-to many ladies, but you have never really loved
-any of them. Your heart--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I beg your pardon; I have loved them all!"
-replied The Freak emphatically.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Don't be angry with Gipsy, pretty
-gentleman!" pleaded the aged Sibyl. "Gipsy knows
-best. Gipsy only says what she reads in the hand.
-So--but what is this?" She bent closer. "Ah!
-Very soon, sir, you will meet the lady of your
-dreams, and you will love her as you have never
-loved before."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No, really?" exclaimed Dicky, deeply
-interested. "Tell me, shall I marry her?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Many difficulties and obstacles will be placed
-in your path," chanted the prophetess. "You
-will be misunderstood; you will have to deal
-with peculiar people. Many times you will be
-tempted to give up in despair. But persevere,
-and you will triumph in the end. Now,
-gentleman, cross Gipsy's palm with silver--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Here high prophetic frenzy tailed off into
-unabashed mendicancy, and the interview dropped
-to a purely commercial level. My attention
-wandered. Not far away a ring of people had
-collected round some fresh object of interest. I
-could hear the sound of a woman's voice singing,
-and the thrumming of a harp. I could even
-distinguish the air. A fresh number was just
-beginning. It was "Annie Laurie"--the most
-beautiful love-song, in my humble opinion, ever
-written.</p>
-<blockquote>
-<div>
-<div class="line-block outermost">
-<div class="line">"Maxwellton's braes are bonny,</div>
-<div class="inner line-block">
-<div class="line">Where early falls the dew--"</div>
-<div class="line"> </div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</blockquote>
-<p class="pfirst">Then the voice quavered and ceased, and I
-found myself wondering what had happened.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"And now, would the other handsome gentleman
-like to show his palm to Gipsy?" enquired
-an ingratiating croak at my side.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Realising with difficulty that I was the individual
-referred to, I turned, to find that our aged
-friend, having satisfactorily arranged Dicky's
-future, was now soliciting my patronage.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No, thanks," I replied. "Come and see what
-is going on over there, Freak."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Ah, but Gipsy will tell the gentleman <em class="italics">all</em>,"
-promised the old lady. "He has a wicked eye,"
-she added, alluringly but incorrectly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">We escaped at last, at a price, and presently
-found ourselves upon the outskirts of the little
-crowd which I have already mentioned.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What is going on inside here?" enquired
-Dicky of his nearest neighbour.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Gel singin' to the 'arp," replied the gentleman
-addressed. He supplemented this information
-by adding that the lady was no class, and
-had a nasty cough.</p>
-<p class="pnext">He was right. As he spoke, the voice of the
-singer broke again, and we could hear the sound
-of a spasm of coughing.</p>
-<p class="pnext">We elbowed our way into the crowd, which
-had grown with the easy facility of all
-race-course crowds into quite an assemblage; and
-presently found ourselves in the inmost ring of
-spectators.</p>
-<p class="pnext">In the centre of the ring sat an old man on a
-camp-stool, cuddling a big battered harp to his
-shoulder. Beside him stood a tall tired-looking
-woman, very handsome in a tawdry fashion, of
-about thirty-five. She was dressed as a Pierrette.
-Her right hand rested upon the old man's
-shoulder, her left was pressed hard against her
-chest. She was coughing violently, and her
-accompanist's hands lay patiently idle in his lap
-until she should be ready to continue. On the
-grass beside the old man sat a hollow-eyed little
-boy, also in regulation Pierrot costume.</p>
-<p class="pnext">I heard Dicky draw his breath sharply. Don
-Quixote was astir again.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Presently the singer recovered, stood bravely
-erect, and prepared herself for another effort.
-The old man's hands swept over the strings, and
-the harp emitted a gentle arpeggio.</p>
-<blockquote>
-<div>
-<div class="line-block outermost">
-<div class="line">"Like dew on the gowans lying</div>
-<div class="inner line-block">
-<div class="line">Is the fall of her fairy feet,</div>
-</div>
-<div class="line">And like winds in summer sighing</div>
-<div class="inner line-block">
-<div class="line">Her voice is low and sweet.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="line">Her voice is low and sweet,</div>
-<div class="inner line-block">
-<div class="line">And she's all the world to me;</div>
-</div>
-<div class="line">And for bonnie Annie Laurie--"</div>
-<div class="line"> </div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</blockquote>
-<p class="pfirst">The song floated up into the blue summer sky,
-carrying me with it--possibly in pursuit of the
-fairy feet (for which I had already found an
-owner). Exposure, rough usage, mayhap
-gin-and-water--all these had robbed the singer's
-notes of something of their pristine freshness;
-but they rang out pure and limpid for all that.
-It was a trained voice, and must once have been
-a great voice. The crowd stood absolutely still.
-Never have I beheld a more attentive audience.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Grand opera, once," said Dicky's voice softly
-in my ear. Then--"Oh, you poor thing!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">I recalled my thoughts from their sentimental
-journey, to realise that the verse had broken off
-before the end and that the woman was once
-more in the throes of another attack of coughing,
-the black pompoms on her little white clown cap
-vibrating with every spasm. Impatient
-spectators began to drift away.</p>
-<p class="pnext">I was conscious of a sudden movement beside
-me, and Dicky's voice exclaimed, in the hoarse
-whisper which I knew he reserved for conversations
-with himself:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Go on! Be a man!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Next moment he had left my side and was
-standing in the centre of the ring, addressing the
-crowd. He was quite cool and self-possessed,
-but I saw his fingers curling and uncurling.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Ladies and gentlemen!" he shouted.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Git out of the ring, Elbert!" suggested a
-voice, not unkindly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">But The Freak continued:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I know we all sympathise with the plucky
-attempt this lady is making to entertain us under
-very difficult circumstances."</p>
-<p class="pnext">The crowd, suspicious of a hoax of some kind,
-surveyed him dumbly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I am sure," Dicky went on, "you will agree
-with me that with such a bad cough our
-entertainer has no right to be working so hard this
-afternoon; and I therefore propose, with your kind
-permission, in order that she may have a rest and
-get her voice back, to sing you one or two songs
-myself. I can't sing for toffee; but I will do my
-best, and I know that you, being sportsmen all,
-will assist me by singing the choruses!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">He took off his hat, bowed genially, and turned
-to the harpist. There was a buzz of appreciation
-and anticipation among the crowd. Evidently
-Dicky had touched the right note when he
-appealed to them as sportsmen.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Can you vamp a few chords, do you think?"
-I heard him say to the accompanist.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes, sir," replied the old man quickly. "Go
-on: I'll follow you."</p>
-<p class="pnext">The tired woman sank down upon the trampled
-grass beside the little boy; The Freak, hat in
-hand, struck an attitude; and the entertainment
-began.</p>
-<p class="pnext">I do not know how many songs he sang. He
-passed from one to another with amazing facility,
-discoursing between the verses upon topics well
-suited to the taste and comprehension of his
-audience. His songs were not new, and the tales that
-he told were neither true nor relevant; but they
-served their purpose. He uplifted his voice and
-carried us all off our feet. He conducted us over
-the whole of that field of Music Hall humour
-which is confined within the following limits:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">(1) Alcoholic excess.</p>
-<p class="pnext">(2) Personal deformity (e.g., Policemen's feet).</p>
-<p class="pnext">(3) Conjugal infelicity; with which is incorporated Mothers-in-law.</p>
-<p class="pnext">(4) Studies of insect life (e.g., Seaside lodgings).</p>
-<p class="pnext">(5) Exaggerated metaphor (e.g., "Giddy kipper").</p>
-<p class="pnext">He enlarged upon all these, and illuminated
-each. He was unspeakably vulgar, and
-irresistibly amusing. The crowd took him to their
-bosoms. They roared at his gags; they sang his
-choruses; they clamoured for more.</p>
-<p class="pnext">I shouted with the rest. This was the real
-Dicky Mainwaring--the unregenerate,
-unrestrained Freak of our undergraduate days--my
-friend given back to me in his right mind after a
-lamentable period of eclipse. My heart swelled
-foolishly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Chorus once more, please, gentlemen!"
-shouted Dicky. "Last time!"</p>
-<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure" style="width: 59%" id="figure-33">
-<span id="chorus-once-more-please-gentlemen"></span><img class="align-center" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=" " src="images/img-122.jpg" />
-<div class="caption figure">
-"CHORUS ONCE MORE, PLEASE, GENTLEMEN!"</div>
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">The refined and elevating pæan rolled forth,
-Dicky conducting:--</p>
-<blockquote>
-<div>
-<div class="line-block outermost">
-<div class="line">"Beer, Beer, glorious Beer!</div>
-<div class="line">Fill yourself right up to here!</div>
-<div class="inner line-block">
-<div class="line">(<em class="italics">Illustrative gesture.</em>)</div>
-</div>
-<div class="line">Take a good deal of it,</div>
-<div class="line">Make a good meal of it--"</div>
-<div class="line"> </div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</blockquote>
-<p class="pfirst">With head thrown back and mouth wide open,
-I shouted with the rest--and--caught the eye
-of Miss Hilda Beverley! She was standing exactly
-opposite to me on the other side of the circle.
-Next moment she was gone.</p>
-<div class="center transition">
-<p class="pfirst">――――</p>
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">It was the accompanist who gave in first. For
-nearly half an hour his aged but nimble fingers
-had followed the singer's most extravagant
-flights, and he now began obviously to falter.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky seized this opportunity to conclude his
-performance.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"That is all, gentlemen," he said, with a
-flourish of his hat. "I know no more. Thank you for
-your kind attention and assistance. But don't go
-away. I am going to ask the Colonel here to
-carry his hat round."</p>
-<p class="pnext">He signalled to the small pale-faced boy to
-take up a collection, but the child hung back
-shyly. Evidently he was not accustomed to
-enthusiastic audiences. Dicky accordingly
-borrowed his cone-shaped headpiece and set to work
-himself.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Touch your neighbour's heart, and his pocket
-is at your mercy. The bell was ringing for the
-last race, but not a man in that crowd stirred
-until he had contributed to Dicky's collection.
-Silver and copper rained into the cap. I saw one
-sturdy old farmer clap Dicky upon the shoulder
-with a "Good lad! good lad!" and drop in half-a-crown.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Then the audience melted away as suddenly
-as it had collected, and we five were left--Dicky,
-myself, the old man, his daughter, and the
-recently gazetted Colonel. The daughter still sat
-limply upon the grass. Dicky crossed over to
-her and emptied the collection into her lap.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You had better tie that up in a handkerchief,"
-he said. He spoke awkwardly. He was no longer
-an inspired comedian--only a shy and
-self-conscious schoolboy. My thoughts flew back to a
-somewhat similar scene in a third-class carriage
-on the Great Eastern Railway many years
-before.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The woman was crying softly. Her tears--those
-blessed faith-restoring tears that come to
-people who encounter kindness when they
-thought that the world held no more for
-them--dropped one by one upon the pile of coins in her
-lap. She caught Dicky's hand, and clung to
-it. The Freak cleared his throat in a distressing
-manner, but said nothing. Far away we could
-hear the roar of the crowd, watching the last race.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I must be going now," said Dicky at length.
-"I hope you will soon get rid of your cough and
-have good luck again. We all get under the
-weather sometimes, don't we? Good-bye! Good-bye, Colonel!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">The officer addressed fixed round and wondering
-eyes upon the eccentric stranger, but made no
-remark.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Good-bye, sir," said the woman. "God--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky released his hand gently and turned
-deferentially to the old gentleman, who was still
-sitting patiently at his harp.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Thank you very much, sir," he said, speaking
-like a polite undergraduate to an aged don who
-has just entertained him to dinner, "for your
-splendid accompaniments. I can't imagine how
-you contrived to follow me as you did. I'm a
-pretty erratic performer, I 'm afraid. Good-bye!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">He held out his hand.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The old man struggled to his feet, and gave a
-little old-fashioned bow, but disregarded Dicky's
-proffered hand.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Good-bye, sir," he said, "and thank you
-kindly for what you have done for us."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Would you mind putting your hand in his,
-sir?" said the woman to Dicky. "He can't see
-it. He's blind," she added apologetically.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Five minutes later we found ourselves back
-at the railings. The motor was already purring,
-and Romulus and Remus had been put into the
-victoria.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Miss Damer hastened up to us. Her brown
-eyes looked very soft.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Dicky dear," she said tremulously, "we all
-saw you, and I think you are a brick. But keep
-away from Hilda for a bit."</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center large pfirst" id="the-only-way-out">CHAPTER IX</p>
-<p class="center medium pnext">THE ONLY WAY OUT</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">The ladies, pleading fatigue after their long
-day, retired early, bringing a somewhat
-oppressive evening to a timely conclusion. Dinner had
-been a constrained function, for Miss Beverley's
-aloofness had cast a gloom upon the spirits of her
-<em class="italics">fiancé</em>, and the rest of us had joined with him in a
-sort of sympathetic melancholy. In the drawing-room
-afterwards Mr. Crick, whose ebullient soul
-chafed beneath what he termed "compulsory
-hump," sat down at the piano and treated us to a
-musical sketch,--something humorous but
-lingering. Whereupon Lady Adela awoke out of
-her sleep, and with a disregard for the performer's
-feeling that was almost indecent, cut short the
-entertainment and shepherded her flock to the
-upper regions.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The four gentlemen adjourned to the billiard-room.
-Here Mr. Mainwaring and Crick set about
-a game of billiards--fifty up--at which the
-latter, with a loftiness of spirit which his
-subsequent performance entirely failed to justify,
-insisted upon conceding his elderly opponent
-twenty-five points. Aided by this generous
-subsidy and by the fact that the scratch player, in
-bringing off some delicate long shots into the
-top pocket, more than once omitted the formality
-of glancing off one of the other balls on the way,
-our host made quite surprising progress. His
-own contributions to the score were mainly
-derived from a monotonous but profitable system
-of potting the white and leaving his opponent a
-double balk. Indeed, the old gentleman reached
-his points before Mr. Crick had accomplished a
-feat vaguely described by himself as "getting the
-strength of the table." Mr. Mainwaring then
-trotted happily upstairs to bed, followed very
-shortly afterwards by his highly incensed play-fellow.</p>
-<p class="pnext">As the door closed, Dicky put down his pipe
-and turned to me.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Bill, old man," he said, "I don't often face
-facts; but this time I admit that I have fairly
-torn the end off things."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You are in disgrace, my boy," I agreed.
-"What are you going to do about it?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky pondered, and finally summed up.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"The fact is," he said, "I am not up to Hilda's
-standard, and never shall be."</p>
-<p class="pnext">I rose, and took my stand upon that tribunal
-beloved of the Briton--the hearthrug--and
-looked down upon my friend's troubled countenance.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Dicky," I began, having blown my nose
-nervously, "you and I don't usually go deeply into
-these matters together; but--do you love that
-girl?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">We two regarded one another deliberately for a
-minute, and then Dicky shook his head.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I do not," he said at last. "Not more, that is,
-than I love half a dozen others. I suppose the
-truth is," he continued, relighting his pipe, "that
-I don't quite realise the meaning of the word--yet.
-Some day, perhaps, the big thing will come
-to me; but until it does and wipes out everything
-else, I shall go on imagining, as at present, that
-I am in love with every girl who happens to
-attract me or whom I happen to attract--if such
-a thing is possible. Nature, I suppose--just
-Nature! Just now I am making the instinctive
-involuntary experiments that every man must
-make, and go on making, until he encounters his
-right mate. Some men, I imagine, are luckier
-than others. They are not inflammable. They
-do not make false starts or get down blind alleys.
-I believe you are one, Tiny, but there are not
-many. With women, I believe, it is different.
-They have more intuition than men, and can tell
-almost immediately whether they have found the
-goods this time or not. But the average man must
-just go blundering on, making an ass of himself,
-and learning by experience. I fall into love
-readily enough, but have never been able to stay
-there. That is my trouble. I am therefore forced
-to the conclusion that I have never really been in
-love at all."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"That is because you have never met <em class="italics">the</em> girl, Freak."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Possibly; but there is another explanation,
-and that is that I am incapable of a sustained
-affection under any circumstances whatever.
-However, you may take it from me that such is
-not the case. I <em class="italics">know</em> that. I can't explain it or
-prove it, but I know it. What I really want--but
-I have n't met one so far--is a girl who will
-fall in love with me, and <em class="italics">show</em> it--show that she
-is willing to burn her boats for me. A good many
-young women, estimable creatures, have indicated
-that they care for me a little, but not one
-has done it in the way I have described. I don't
-believe that I could ever really throw myself
-absolutely headlong into love with a girl unless I
-knew in my heart that she was prepared to do
-the same for me. They are all so cautious, so
-self-contained, so blooming independent,
-nowadays, that a man simply cannot let himself go on
-one of them for fear she should turn round and
-laugh at him. But if a girl once confided to me
-that she wanted to entrust herself to me--body
-and soul, for better, for worse, and so on--without
-any present-day stipulations about
-maintaining her independence and preserving her
-individuality, and stuff of that kind--well, good-bye
-to all indecision or uncertainty on my part!
-What man who called himself a man could resist
-such an appeal as that--a genuine whole-hearted
-appeal from weakness to strength? (Not that I
-am exactly a model of strength," he commented,
-with a disarming smile; "but I know I soon should
-be, if such an honour were done me.) Weakness
-to strength! That's what it comes to in the end,
-old man, whatever the modern advanced female
-may say. Male and female created He them--eh?
-When I do meet that girl--perhaps she
-is the girl the old gipsy foretold for me to-day--I
-shall love her, and slave for her, and fight
-for her, so long as we both live, just because she
-is so utterly dependent on me. That is what
-brings out the best in a man. Unfortunately, I
-have not yet met her. When I do you may take
-it from me that I shall cease to be a Freak. Amen!
-Here endeth the First Lesson. There will be no
-collection."</p>
-<p class="pnext">His discourse thus characteristically concluded,
-my friend sat silent and pensive.</p>
-<p class="pnext">This was quite a new Dicky to me.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You appear to have studied the question deeply
-and scientifically," I said, frankly impressed.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"My lad," replied Dicky with feeling, "if you
-possessed a disposition as flighty as mine--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Quixotic," I amended.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"All right--as quixotic as mine, and were also
-blessed with a dear old mother who spent her life
-confronting you with attractive young women
-with a view to matrimony, you would begin to
-study the question deeply and scientifically too.
-I am only a Freak, and all that, but I don't want
-to make a mess of a girl's life if I can help it;
-and that, old friend, owing to my susceptible
-nature and gentle maternal pressure from the
-rear, is exactly what I am in great danger of
-doing. I have had to mark time pretty resolutely
-of late, I can tell you. And that brings us to the
-matter in hand. Hilda and I seem to have
-reached the end of our tether. Something has got
-to be done."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It is just possible," I said, "that Miss
-Beverley has done it already."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It--the only thing that ought to be done."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What do you mean?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"When the others went upstairs to bed Miss
-Hilda retired into an inner drawing-room and
-sat down at a writing-table. There is no post out
-of here until lunch-time to-morrow. Therefore
-she was probably writing to some one in the
-house."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky nodded comprehendingly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Proceed, Sherlock," he said.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"To whom was she writing?" I enquired.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky thought.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"To me," he announced at length. "Economical
-hobby. No stamps required. Well?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Supposing," I continued, "that Miss Beverley
-has been writing to you to-night--what then?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I shall receive a letter from her in the
-morning," concluded Dicky. "Eh? Wrong answer?
-Sorry! What will happen, then?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You will get your letter to-night."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky looked doubtful.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Where? When?" he asked.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"That's it. Where and when?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky pondered.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"On my pin-cushion, when I go upstairs to
-bed," he said at last--"although it strikes me as
-a most unmaidenly action for Hilda."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"So unmaidenly," I replied, "that you will
-probably find the letter on the hall table by your
-candle. Come and see."</p>
-<p class="pnext">My faith in Miss Beverley's sense of propriety
-was fully justified, for we found the letter in the
-hall beside the candlesticks exactly as I had
-foretold. Probably it had not lain there more than
-five minutes.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What do you think of that?" I enquired.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"By Heavens, Holmes," exclaimed Dicky,
-who after his late lofty flight had characteristically
-relapsed into one of his most imbecile moods,
-"this is wonderful!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">We bore the letter back to the billiard-room.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Four sheets!" murmured The Freak dejectedly.
-"Well, the longer I look at them the less I
-shall like them. Here goes!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">He began to unfold the crackling document.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What is that protuberance down there, between
-your finger and thumb?" I enquired. "It
-may epitomise the letter for you."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky turned the envelope upside down, and
-shook it over the billiard-table. Something fell
-out, rolled a short distance, and lay sparkling
-and shimmering on the green cloth.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky picked up the ring very slowly, and
-regarded it long and intently. Then he turned
-to me.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Thank God!" he said, softly and quite reverently;
-and I knew he spoke less for himself than
-for a certain superior young woman upstairs,
-who considered him flippant, lacking in depth,
-and altogether unworthy of her.</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center large pfirst" id="still-at-large">CHAPTER X</p>
-<p class="center medium pnext">STILL AT LARGE</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">I saw very little of The Freak the following
-winter. For one thing, I went abroad again. The
-Government of the Auricula Protectorate had
-decided to connect their capital with the sea by
-means of a canal. I happened to know the
-district, for I had been engaged eight years
-previously upon the great dam, thirty miles from
-Auricula, which now holds in beneficent restraint
-the turbid waters of the Rumbolo River. I
-accordingly applied for work in connection with
-the scheme. By the greatest luck in the world one
-Vandeleur, C.B., a magnate of no small standing
-in the Auricula district, happened to be home
-on leave. He had visited my dam in his official
-capacity, and had noted that it was still standing.
-He spoke the word, and I got my canal.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The next four months I spent upon the continent
-of Africa, sketching, surveying, and drawing
-up specifications. Then I came home to be married.</p>
-<p class="pnext">At the very first dinner-party to which we were
-bidden on our return from our honeymoon I
-encountered The Freak.</p>
-<p class="pnext">I saw him first, so to speak. Covers had been
-laid, as they say in country newspapers, for
-twenty-two persons. My wife, through the
-operation of an inscrutable but inexorable law, had
-been reft from my side, and was now periodically
-visible through a maze of table decorations,
-entertaining her host with what I could not help
-regarding as the most unfeeling vivacity and
-cheerfulness. I began to take an inventory of the
-company. We had been a little late in arriving--to
-be precise, the last--and I had had no opportunity
-of observing my fellow-guests. My own
-partner was a Mrs. Botley-Markham, an old
-acquaintance of mine. She combined short sight
-and an astonishingly treacherous memory for
-names and faces with a rooted conviction that
-the one infallible sign of good breeding is never
-to forget a name or a face. ("A truly <em class="italics">Royal</em>
-attribute," she had once announced in my
-presence.) I was therefore agreeably surprised to
-find that she remembered not merely my face,
-but my name and <em class="italics">métier</em>. After putting me at
-my ease with a few kindly and encouraging
-remarks upon the subject of canals, she turned to
-her other neighbour.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Dear Sir Arthur," I heard her say, "this is
-indeed a pleasant surprise!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Dear lady," replied a hearty voice, "the
-pleasure is entirely mine."</p>
-<p class="pnext">I leaned carelessly forward to inspect the
-menu, and shot a sidelong glance in the direction
-of Sir Arthur. I was right. It was The Freak,
-in his most acquiescent mood. I wondered what
-his surname was, and whether he knew it.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"We had such a teeny talk last time we met,"
-continued Mrs. Botley-Markham. "Now we can
-chat as long as we please."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Heaving a gentle sigh of relief, Mrs. Botley-Markham's
-rightful dinner-partner helped himself
-to a double portion of the <em class="italics">entrée</em> and set to work.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The chat commenced forthwith.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"And how is Gipsy?" enquired Mrs. Botley-Markham.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Gipsy," replied Sir Arthur without hesitation,
-"is top-hole."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"How quaint and original you always are in
-your expressions!" cooed my neighbour. "But
-I am so glad to hear about Gipsy. Then the dear
-thing has quite recovered?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Absolutely," replied Dicky courageously.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mrs. Botley-Markham cooed again. Then she
-enquired, confidentially:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Now tell me, what <em class="italics">was</em> it?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What <em class="italics">was</em> it?" echoed The Freak cautiously. "Ah!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes; what <em class="italics">was</em> it?" pursued his interlocutor,
-much intrigued. "Don't tell me they never found
-out!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Never. At least," admitted The Freak
-guardedly, "not for some time."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Then they actually operated without being
-sure?" exclaimed Mrs. Botley-Markham, shuddering.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky, making up his arrears with a portion of
-quail, inclined his head gravely, and the quail
-reached its destination.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"And when they did find out," pursued
-Mrs. Botley-Markham, clasping her hands--she had
-finished her quail--"what <em class="italics">was</em> it? Tell me,
-dear Sir Arthur!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Sir Arthur cogitated for a moment, and then
-took the plunge.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It was clavicle," he said solemnly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Assuming that my friend was labouring under
-the same disadvantage as myself--namely,
-inability to decide whether Gipsy was a woman,
-child, horse, dog, cat, or monkey--to invent a
-mysterious and non-committal disease upon the
-spur of the moment struck me as quite a stroke
-of genius on Dicky's part. Connie would enjoy
-hearing about this.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"How truly terrible!" said Mrs. Botley-Markham,
-in an awe-struck voice. "Clam--clavicle
-is a very rare disease, is it not?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Rare and mysterious," replied my friend in
-the same tone. "In fact, the doctor--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You mean Sir Herbert?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No, the other blo--the other gentleman--the
-anæsthetist, you know! He told me that he
-had never encountered a case of it before."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"How truly terrible!" said Mrs. Botley-Markham
-again. "And all the time you suspected appendicitis."</p>
-<p class="pnext">The Freak acquiesced readily. Here was light.
-Gipsy apparently was human--not equine,
-canine, feline, or simian.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"And the little one?" enquired Mrs. Botley-Markham
-tenderly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">I held my breath. Sir Arthur had reached his
-second fence.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"The little one," he replied after consideration,
-"is doing nicely. Not so very little, though,
-when you come to think of it," he continued,
-boldly taking the initiative.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Has she grown so big, then?" enquired
-Mrs. Botley-Markham, unconsciously giving away
-another point. The little one's sex was determined.
-Certainly it was an exhilarating game.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Quite extraordinary," said Dicky. "How
-big," he continued cunningly, "would you
-imagine she was now?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Not as big as my Babs?" cried Mrs. Botley-Markham
-incredulously.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"That," replied The Freak, "is just exactly
-how big she is." There was the least tinge of
-disappointment in his voice. Evidently he had
-hoped for something more tangible. For
-purposes of mensuration Babs was useless to him.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Why 'just exactly'?" enquired Mrs. Botley-Markham
-doubtfully. "You are very precise about it."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"We met Babs in the Park the other day,"
-replied the audacious Dicky, "and compared them."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mrs. Botley-Markham frankly gaped.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"But, dear Sir Arthur," she exclaimed--"How?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"How does one compare--er--little ones?"
-was the evasive reply of Sir Arthur.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The outraged parent turned upon him.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You mean to say you laid those two innocents
-side by side upon the wet grass," she gasped,
-"and--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It was nearly dry," said Dicky soothingly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">I choked noisily, for I was rapidly losing
-self-control; but neither of the performers in the
-duologue took the slightest notice of me.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I shall speak to my nurse to-morrow morning,"
-announced Mrs. Botley-Markham firmly.
-"I cannot imagine what she was thinking about."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Don't be hard on her," begged Dicky. "It
-was my fault entirely."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It certainly was <em class="italics">very</em> naughty of you," said
-Mrs. Botley-Markham, already relenting, "but I
-forgive you--there!" She tapped the eccentric
-Sir Arthur playfully upon the arm. "Tell me,
-though, what does Gwladys weigh? Mere bigness
-in children is so often deceptive."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Even assuming that Gwladys was also the
-Little One, it was obvious that Dicky had not yet
-cleared his second fence. I began vaguely to
-calculate what a healthy child should weigh. A
-thirty-pound salmon, for instance--how would
-that compare with a fat baby? But Dicky made
-a final and really brilliant effort.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Fourteen point eight," he said promptly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I beg your pardon?" replied Mrs. Botley-Markham.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Fourteen point eight cubic centimetres,"
-repeated The Freak in a firm voice. "That is the
-metric system of weights and measures. It is the
-only accurate and scientific method. All the big
-doctors have taken to it, you will find. I never
-allow any other to be employed where Gwladys
-is concerned. I strongly advise you," he added
-earnestly, "to have Babs weighed in the same
-manner. Everybody's doing it now," he
-concluded lyrically.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mrs. Botley-Markham quivered with pleasure.
-An opportunity of getting ahead of the fashion
-does not occur to us every day.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I will certainly take your advice, dear Sir
-Arthur," she replied. "Tell me, where does one
-get it done?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"At the British Museum, between seven and
-eight in the morning," replied The Freak, whose
-pheasant was growing cold. "And now, dear
-lady, tell me everything that you have been doing
-lately."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mrs. Botley-Markham, being nothing loath,
-launched forth. She even found time to re-include
-me in the conversation, disturbing my meditations
-upon the strenuous awakening which awaited poor
-Babs upon the morrow with an enquiry as to
-whether my canal was to contain salt water or
-fresh. But she had not finished with Dicky yet.
-Suddenly she turned upon him, and remarked
-point-blank:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"How pleased the Stantons will be!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Indeed, yes!" replied The Freak enthusiastically.</p>
-<p class="pnext">At the sound of his voice I trembled. We had
-reached the dessert, and with port in sight, so to
-speak, it was impossible to tell what foolishness
-he might not commit.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"In fact," he continued shamelessly, "I happen
-to know that they are not merely pleased but
-ecstatic. I saw them yesterday."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Where?" asked Mrs. Botley-Markham.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Dear lady," replied Dicky, smiling, "where
-does one invariably meet the Stantons?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You mean at the Archdeacon's?" said Mrs. Botley-Markham.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I do," said my reprobate friend. "They had
-all been down the Str--I mean to the
-Pan-Mesopotamian Conference," he added quite
-gratuitously.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Ah, of course; they would," assented
-Mrs. Botley-Markham hazily, evidently wondering
-whether she ought to have heard of the
-Pan-Mesopotamian Conference. "Were they all
-there?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"All but the delicate one," replied The Freak,
-abandoning all restraint.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Do you mean Isobel?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes," replied the graceless Richard--"I do.
-Poor Isobel!" he added gently.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I am afraid they are not a strong family,"
-said Mrs. Botley-Markham, with a sympathetic
-glance which rather alarmed me. I foresaw
-complications.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The Freak wagged his head gloomily.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No; a weak strain, I fear."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I hope--I <em class="italics">hope</em>," said Mrs. Botley-Markham,
-evidently choosing her words with care and tact,
-"that the weakness does not extend to Gipsy."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Then Gipsy was connected with the Stantons!
-Freak would have to walk warily. But at this
-moment his attention was wandering in the direction
-of our hostess, who was beginning to exhibit
-symptoms of upheaval with a view to
-withdrawal. He replied carelessly:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No. Why should it?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mrs. Botley-Markham, a little offended and
-flustered at being taken up so sharply, replied
-with exaggerated humility:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I only <em class="italics">meant</em>, dear Sir Arthur, that if one
-sister is delicate, possibly another may be slightly
-inclined--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Then Isobel and Gipsy were sisters. I knew it!</p>
-<p class="pnext">At this moment the hostess gave the mystic
-sign, and the company rose. Freak turned a sad
-and slightly reproachful gaze upon Mrs. Botley-Markham.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You are forgetting, dear lady," he said gently.
-"Isobel and Gipsy are not related. Isobel was
-the sister of my poor first wife."</p>
-<p class="pnext">He drew back Mrs. Botley-Markham's chair
-with grave courtesy, and that afflicted lady
-tottered down the room and out of the door,
-looking like the Leaning Tower of Pisa.</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">The Freak and I resumed our seats.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Dear Sir Arthur," I said, "are you a knight
-or a baronet?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Before this point of precedence could be
-settled, our host called to us to move up higher.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I want to introduce you to Sir Arthur Twigg,
-Mainwaring," he said, indicating a pleasant-looking
-youth strongly resembling Dicky in
-appearance and bearing.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Come to lunch with me to-morrow, Tiny,"
-said Dicky hurriedly to me.</p>
-<p class="pnext">A few minutes later I heard him regretfully
-explaining to his host that an important legal
-consultation in his chambers at ten o'clock that
-evening would prevent him from joining the
-ladies afterwards in the drawing-room.</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center large pfirst" id="the-first-turning-to-the-right">CHAPTER XI</p>
-<p class="center medium pnext">THE FIRST TURNING TO THE RIGHT</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">Next day I lunched with The Freak in Hall in
-the Inner Temple, where I was introduced by my
-host to the surrounding company as a
-"distinguished engineer, who had dammed the Nile
-several times and was now prepared to speak
-disrespectfully of the Equator."</p>
-<p class="pnext">After luncheon Dicky suggested that I should
-walk round with him to his chambers in Bolton
-Street. It was a murky December afternoon.
-Christmas shopping had set in with its usual
-severity, and visitors from the country, armed
-with sharp-cornered parcels, surged tumultuously
-along the wrong side of every pavement,
-while the ordinary citizens of London trudged
-resignedly in the gutter.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky, quite undisturbed by the press,
-continued the conversation.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes, the family are all very fit," he said.
-"You must come and stay with us. I shall give
-myself a week's holiday at Christmas and take
-you and Connie down to Shotley Beauchamp,
-and we will have a pop at Ethelbert, our
-pheasant, and discuss the days that are no more."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Talking of the days that are no more," I
-began, stepping aside to avoid a stout lady
-carrying an inverted baby under one arm and an
-imperfectly draped rocking-horse under the other,
-"what has become--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Hilda Beverley--eh?" replied Dicky cheerfully.
-"I'll tell you all about her. (Don't apologise,
-sir, really! After all, I still have an eye left,
-and you very nearly lost your umbrella.) She
-is engaged, if not married, to an Oxford Don. I
-believe they are very happy. They go out and
-sing an ode to Apollo every morning before
-breakfast, or something of that kind."</p>
-<p class="pnext">A wedge of excursionists clove its way between
-us, and it was with a voice unconsciously raised
-that I remarked from the gutter:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You had an escape that time, my lad."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Not at all!" yelled Dicky loyally from the
-other side of the pavement. ("Mind that
-kiddie's balloon, old son!) No," he continued, as we
-converged once more, "I had a very profitable
-six months. Hilda took immense pains with me,
-and it was n't her fault that I turned out a
-failure."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Presently I asked a question which always
-rose to my lips when I met Dicky after any
-considerable interval.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Have your family any fresh matrimonial
-irons in the fire for you at present?" I enquired.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No," replied my friend, "I rejoice to say
-they have not. The market is utterly flat. The
-Hilda Beverley slump knocked the bottom out of
-everything, and for the last half-year I have been
-living a life of perfect peace. I am settling down
-to a contented spinsterhood," he added, to the
-obvious surprise and consternation of a
-grim-looking female in a blue mackintosh who had
-become wedged between us. "In a few years I
-shall get a tabby cat and a sampler, and retire to
-end my days in the close of some quiet cathedral
-city."</p>
-<p class="pnext">The female in the mackintosh, by dint of using
-her elbows as levers and our waistcoats as
-fulcrums, heaved herself convulsively out of our
-company and disappeared in the crowd, probably
-in search of police protection. Dicky and I came
-together again.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Occasionally," he continued fraternally, "I
-shall come and stay with you and Connie, and
-give you advice as to--Bill! Tiny! My son
-William! Look at that girl's face! Did you catch
-her profile? Did you ever see anything so lovely
-in all your life?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">We had reached that spot in the narrowest
-part of Piccadilly where all the omnibuses in the
-world seem to stop to take up passengers. Dicky's
-fingers had closed round my left biceps muscle
-with a grip like iron. I turned and surveyed him.
-His cheery good-tempered face was transfigured:
-his eyes blazed.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Look!" he said again, pointing. He was
-trembling like a nervous schoolgirl.</p>
-<p class="pnext">But I was just too late. All I saw was a trim
-lithe young figure--rather like Connie's, I
-thought--stepping on to an omnibus. (When I
-told the story at home I was at once asked how
-she was dressed, but naturally could not say.) I
-caught sight of a pair of slim square shoulders,
-a good deal of pretty brown hair, and finally a
-pair of neat black shoes, as their owner deftly
-mounted to the top of the swaying vehicle.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I just missed her face, old man," I replied.
-"Was she pretty?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Here I stopped. To address empty air in
-Piccadilly for any length of time causes one to
-incur the unworthy suspicions of the bystanders.
-It also causes a crowd to collect, which is an
-indictable offence.</p>
-<p class="pnext">For I was alone. Afar off, pursuing a motor-omnibus
-just getting into its top speed, I beheld
-the flying figure of my friend. Presently he
-overtook the unwieldy object of his pursuit, hopped
-on board, and proceeded to climb to the top.</p>
-<p class="pnext">At this moment the omnibus reached Bond
-Street--the first turning to the right--swung
-round the corner, and disappeared.</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center large pfirst" id="mice-and-men">BOOK THREE</p>
-<p class="center large pnext">THE RIGHT ROAD</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em">
-</div>
-<p class="center large pfirst">NOTE</p>
-<p class="left medium pnext">The main idea of Book Three was suggested by
-a very minor episode in the closing chapters of
-'A Man's Man.' The usual acknowledgments
-are therefore made to the author of that work.</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em">
-</div>
-<p class="center large pfirst">CHAPTER XII</p>
-<p class="center medium pnext">MICE AND MEN</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">"Sylvia, is your father in from his walk?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Miss Sylvia Mainwaring, attired in a
-sage-green robe and distressingly rational boots,
-turned and surveyed her male parent's recumbent
-form upon the sofa.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes, mother mine," she replied. (Sylvia was
-rather addicted to little preciosities of this kind.)</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Is he awake?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"He is reading 'The Spectator,' Mother," was
-the somewhat Delphic response.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Then ring for tea, dear."</p>
-<p class="pnext">It was a bleak Saturday afternoon in late
-February. Darkness was closing in, and the great
-fire in the hall at The Towers flickered lovingly
-upon our leading weekly review, which, temporarily
-diverted from its original purpose in order
-to serve as a supplementary waistcoat for
-Mr. Mainwaring, rose and fell with gentle regularity
-in the warm glow.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Mainwaring's daughter rang a bell and
-switched on the electric light with remorseless
-severity; his wife came rustling down the broad
-oak staircase; and Mr. Mainwaring himself,
-realising that a further folding of the hands to
-sleep was out of the question, peeled off "The
-Spectator" and sat up.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Abel," observed Lady Adela--her husband's
-baptismal name was a perpetual thorn in her
-ample flesh, but she made a point of employing
-it on all occasions, as a sort of reducing exercise to
-her family pride--"tea will be here in a moment."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Mainwaring rose to his feet. He was an
-apologetic little gentleman, verging on sixty,
-with a few wisps of grey hair brushed carefully
-across his bald head. At present these were
-hanging down upon the wrong side, giving their
-owner a mildly leonine appearance. A kindly,
-shy, impulsive man, Abel Mainwaring was
-invariably mute and ill at ease beneath the eye of
-his wife and daughter. Their patrician calm
-oppressed him; and his genial expansive nature
-only blossomed in the presence of his erratic but
-affectionate son.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Tea?" he exclaimed with mild alacrity--"Who
-said tea?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Abel," announced Lady Adela in tones which
-definitely vetoed any further conversational
-openings originating in tea, "I think it only right
-to tell you that a visitor may arrive at any
-moment; and your present appearance, to put it
-mildly, is hardly that of the master of a large
-household."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"My dear, I fly!" said Mr. Mainwaring
-hurriedly, and disappeared. At the same moment
-there was a tinkle in the back premises.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"There goes the front-door bell," said Sylvia.
-"I never heard the carriage. Can it be Connie
-already?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"A caller, probably," sighed her mother.
-"How tiresome people are. See who it is, Milroy,
-and then bring tea."</p>
-<p class="pnext">The butler, who had entered from the dining-room,
-crossed the hall to the curtained alcove
-which screened the front door.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Hardly a caller on an afternoon like this,"
-said Sylvia, shivering delicately. "It is raining
-in sheets."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"My experience," replied Lady Adela peevishly,
-"has always been that when one's
-neighbours have made up their minds to be
-thoroughly annoying, no weather will stop them."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Simultaneously with this truthful but gloomy
-reflection Lady Adela composed her fine features
-into an hospitable smile of welcome and rose
-to her feet.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Misterilands!" announced Milroy, drawing
-back the curtain of the outer hall.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Lady Adela, still smiling, rolled an enquiring
-eye in the direction of her daughter.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"New curate!" hissed Sylvia.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Through the curtained archway advanced a
-short, sturdy, spectacled young man, dumbly
-resisting Mr. Milroy's gracious efforts to relieve
-him of his hat and stick.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Lady Adela extended her hand.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"How do you do, Mr. Highlands?" she
-enquired, as the ruffled Milroy, shaken off like an
-importunate limpet, disappeared into the dining-room.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"My name," replied the visitor apologetically,
-"is Rylands--not Highlands."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"How stupid of me!" said Lady Adela
-condescendingly. "But my butler is a most
-inarticulate person, and in any case we give him the
-benefit of the doubt where H's are concerned."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It's of no consequence," Mr. Rylands
-assured her. "Oh, I beg your pardon!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">He picked up his walking-stick, which had
-fallen upon the polished floor with a shattering
-crash, and continued breathlessly:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"The fact is, Lady Adela, the Archdeacon
-asked me to come round this afternoon and warn
-Mr.--Mr.--" he was uncertain of Mr. Mainwaring's
-exact status and title, so decided to
-hedge--"your husband, about the First Lesson
-in to-morrow morning's service. The Arch-deacon--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Be seated, Mr. Rylands," said Lady Adela, in
-the voice which she reserved for golfers,
-politicians, and other people who attempted to talk
-shop in her presence. "My husband will be
-downstairs presently. This is my--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"The Archdeacon," continued the conscientious
-Rylands, "thinks it would be better to
-substitute an alternative Lesson--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">At this point his walking-stick, which he had
-after several efforts succeeded in leaning against
-the corner of the mantelpiece, fell a second time
-upon the floor, and a further hail of apology followed.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"--An alternative Lesson to-morrow morning,"
-he resumed pertinaciously, "in view of the
-fact that certain passages--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"This is my daughter Sylvia," said Lady
-Adela coldly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Oh, I beg your pardon!" exclaimed the curate
-to Sylvia, starting up and dropping his hat. "I
-did n't see you. My glasses are rather dimmed
-by the rain. I have come here," he recommenced
-rapidly, evidently hoping for a more receptive
-auditor this time, "at the request of the
-Arch-deacon, to see Mr.--your father--about an
-alteration in the First Lesson to-morrow--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I don't think you need trouble, Mr. Rylands,"
-replied the dutiful Sylvia. "My father will
-probably read the wrong Lesson in any case."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Who is taking my name in vain?" enquired
-the playful voice of Mr. Mainwaring, as its owner,
-newly kempt, descended the stairs.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"This is Mr. Rylands, Abel, who has recently
-come among us," said Lady Adela. "To assist
-the Archdeacon," she added, with feeling.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Mainwaring shook hands with characteristic
-friendliness.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Welcome to Shotley Beauchamp, Mr. Rylands!"
-he said warmly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Thank you, sir, very much," replied the
-curate, flushing with pleasure. "I have called," he
-continued with unabated enthusiasm--evidently
-he saw port ahead at last--"at the request of
-the Archdeacon, with reference to the First
-Lesson at Matins to-morrow. One of those rather
-characteristic Old Testament passages--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Mr. Rylands," interposed Lady Adela, with
-the air of one who cannot stand this sort of thing
-much longer, "how many lumps of sugar do you take?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Four, please," replied Mr. Rylands absently,
-with his finger in Mr. Mainwaring's buttonhole.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Lady Adela's eyebrows rose an eighth of an inch.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Four, did you say?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">The curate came suddenly to himself.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I beg your pardon," he said cringingly, "I
-meant none."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Then why did you specify four, Mr. Rylands?"
-enquired Sylvia, who disliked what she
-called "vague" people.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Well, the fact is," explained the curate, in a
-burst of shy confidence--"I always take four
-when I am alone in my lodgings. But when I
-go out to tea anywhere, four always seems such
-a fearful lot to ask for, that--oh, I beg your
-pardon!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">He had stepped heavily back into a cake-stand,
-and <em class="italics">patisserie</em> strewed the hearthrug.</p>
-<p class="pnext">But both crime and apology passed unnoticed,
-for at this moment Milroy, who had crossed the
-hall a minute previously, reappeared at the
-curtained entrance, and announced, in tones of
-intense personal satisfaction:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Mrs. Carmyle!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Even the female Mainwarings had no eyes for
-any one else when Connie Carmyle entered a
-room.</p>
-<p class="pnext">During the mêlée of greetings and embraces
-which ensued, Mr. Rylands, blessing the small
-deity who had descended to his aid, found time
-to right a capsized plum-cake and restore four
-highly-speckled cylinders of bread and butter
-to the plate on the bottom storey of the
-cake-stand. He even succeeded in grinding a
-hopelessly leaky chocolate <em class="italics">éclair</em> into the woolly
-hearthrug with his heel. By the time that the
-Mainwarings had removed their visitor's furs
-and escorted her to the fireplace, no trace of the
-outrage remained. The undetected criminal sat
-nervously upon the edge of an <em class="italics">art nouveau</em>
-milking-stool in the chimney-corner, waiting to
-be introduced.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"This is Mr. Rylands, Connie," announced
-Lady Adela. "Mrs. Carmyle."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"How do you do, Mr. Rylands?" said Connie,
-holding out her hand with a friendly smile.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Rylands, with an overfull teacup in one
-hand and a tiny plate entirely obscured by an
-enormous bun in the other, rose cautiously to
-his feet, and bestowing a sickly smile upon
-Mrs. Carmyle, entered at once upon a series of
-perilous feats of legerdemain with a view to getting
-a hand free.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Let me hold your cup for you," suggested
-Connie kindly. "That's better!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">The curate, gratefully adopting this expedient,
-ultimately succeeded in wringing his benefactress
-by the hand.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What has the Archdeacon been up to lately?"
-enquired Connie, gently massaging her fingers.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The curate's face brightened.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It is curious that you should mention the
-Archdeacon's name," he said. "The fact is,
-I have just come <em class="italics">from</em> the Arch--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Constance dear," enquired Lady Adela in
-trumpet tones, "did you see anything of Dick
-on your way down?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No, Lady Adela," said Connie, extending
-a slim foot towards the blazing logs.
-("Mr. Rylands, would you mind bringing me one of
-those little cakes? No, not those--the
-indigestible-looking ones. Thank you so much!) Are
-you expecting him for the week-end?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes, but I am afraid there is a little
-disappointment in store for him. I invited Norah
-Puncheon down--a sweet girl, Constance!--but
-at the last moment she has had to go to bed
-with one of her throats."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Poor thing!" murmured Mrs. Carmyle
-absently. The reason for her own invitation--by
-telegraph--had just been made apparent to her.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"So perhaps you would not mind keeping
-Dick amused," concluded Lady Adela. "You
-and he used to be such particular friends," she
-added archly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Bow-<em class="italics">wow</em>!" observed Mrs. Carmyle dreamily
-into Mr. Rylands's left ear.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The curate choked, then glowed with gentle
-gratification. He realised that he had come face
-to face at last with one of the Smart Set, of
-which one heard so much nowadays.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"The naughty boy," concluded the fond
-mother, "must have missed his train."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"The naughty boy," replied Mrs. Carmyle,
-"is probably coming down by the four-fifteen.
-It is a much better train. Mr. Rylands, will you
-please choose me a nice heavy crumpet?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"In that case," said Lady Adela, "he will
-probably be here in about half an hour. Sylvia
-dear, will you go upstairs and see if Constance's
-room is ready? I forgot to give orders about a
-fire."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Sylvia obediently disappeared, and Lady
-Adela crossed the hall to a chair under a lamp,
-where her husband was furtively perusing the
-evening paper. Mr. Mainwaring was now
-favoured with a brief but masterly display of the
-fast dying art of pantomime, from which he
-gathered without any difficulty whatever that he was
-to remove himself and Mr. Rylands to another
-part of the house, and that right speedily.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Mainwaring coughed submissively, and rose.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Mr. Rylands, will you come and smoke a
-cigarette with me?" he said.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Second Chronicles?" remarked Connie's clear
-voice. "I shall look it up during the sermon
-to-morrow." The Archdeacon's emissary had
-unburdened his soul at last.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Lady Adela extended a stately hand. "Good-bye,
-Mr. Rylands," she said. "My husband
-insists on carrying you off to the smoking-room."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Rylands, by this time hopelessly enmeshed
-in Connie Carmyle's net, sprang guiltily to his
-feet.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Oh, I beg your pardon!" he exclaimed.
-"Good-bye! Good-bye, Mrs. Carmyle!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">He shook hands, gathered together his impedimenta,
-and hurried blindly up the staircase.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Remember I am coming to hear you preach
-to-morrow," Connie called after him, with a
-dazzling smile. "Morning or evening?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">The godly but mesmerised youth halted, and
-broke out afresh. "I am preaching at Evensong,"
-he began, "but--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"This way, Mr. Rylands," said Lady Adela
-patiently, indicating her husband, who was
-standing by a swing door at the opposite side of
-the hall.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Rylands, utterly confounded, pattered
-headlong downstairs again, and disappeared
-with Mr. Mainwaring, still apologising.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Lady Adela tapped Connie playfully but
-heavily upon the cheek. ("<em class="italics">Like being tickled
-by a mastodon</em>" wrote that lady to her husband
-a short time later.)</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Constance dear," she said, with a reproving
-smile, "you are incorrigible. Now let us sit down
-and have a cosy chat."</p>
-<p class="pnext">The incorrigible one sat submissively down
-upon the sofa and waited. She knew that her
-hostess had not rendered the hall a solitude for
-nothing.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Presently the cosy chat began. Not too
-suddenly, though. Lady Adela first enquired after
-the health of Mr. Carmyle, and expressed regret
-that he had been prevented from accompanying
-his wife to The Towers.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"He was sent for about his wretched canal,"
-explained Connie. "But he saw me off at
-Waterloo, and promised to come down on Monday if
-he could get away."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Is it the first time you have been parted?"
-asked Lady Adela.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes," said Connie, in quite a small voice.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Her hostess, suddenly human, patted her hand.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"The time will soon pass, dear," she said.
-"You will find this house quiet but soothing.
-I like it much better than town myself.
-Mr. Mainwaring is no trouble, and things are so
-cheap. The only drawback is Sylvia. She
-dislikes the people about here."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"By the way," enquired Connie, recovering
-her spirits, "what is Sylvia's exact <em class="italics">line</em> just at
-present? Last year it was slumming; the year
-before it was poker-work, and the year before
-that it was Christian Science. What does that
-sage-green gown mean? Don't tell me she has
-become a Futurist, or a Post-Impressionist, or
-anything!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I never attempt," replied Lady Adela, closing
-her eyes resignedly, "to cope with Sylvia's
-hobbies. At present she is a Socialist of some
-kind. She is evolving a scheme, I believe, under
-which the masses and classes are to intermarry
-for the next twenty years. By that time, she
-considers, social distinctions will have ceased to
-exist, and consequently the social problem will
-have solved itself."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mrs. Carmyle nodded her head comprehendingly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I see," she said, "it sounds a good idea. I
-shall start looking out in the 'Morning Post' for
-the announcement of Sylvia's engagement to a
-plumber. Just half a cup more, please."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Lady Adela now decided to begin the cosy
-chat. She accordingly discharged what is known
-on rifle-ranges as a sighting shot.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"By the way, dear Constance, have you and
-your husband seen much of Dick lately?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Oh, we meet him about occasionally," replied
-Connie, casting about for cover--"at parties,
-and so on."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I fear," continued Lady Adela, with what
-the police call "intent," "that the poor boy
-is lonely."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"The last time I saw him," replied Connie,
-"he was entertaining five people to luncheon
-at the Trocadero. He did n't <em class="italics">look</em> lonely."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"There is a loneliness of spirit, dear," replied
-Lady Adela gently, "of which some of us know
-nothing. I think it shows that Dick <em class="italics">must</em> be
-feeling lonely if he requires no less than five
-people to cheer him up."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I am sure you are right," said the obliging
-Mrs. Carmyle.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Was Norah Puncheon of the party, by any
-chance?" enquired Lady Adela carelessly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No. I did n't know any of the people. Is
-Norah a friend of Dicky's?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"They have seen a good deal of one another
-of late, I believe," replied the diplomatic Lady
-Adela, much as a motorist with his radiator full
-of feathers might admit having recently noticed
-a hen somewhere. "Constance dear," she
-continued, coming in her maternal solicitude quite
-prematurely to the point, "you are always so
-discreet. It is high time Dick was married, and
-this time I really do think--no, I <em class="italics">feel</em> it
-instinctively--that Norah Puncheon is the right woman
-for him."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"The right woman!" replied the late First
-Reserve pensively. "How awful that always
-sounds! The wrong one is always so much nicer!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"My dear," exclaimed the horrified Lady
-Adela, "whoever put such a notion into your head?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Dicky. He told me so himself."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Has Norah Puncheon much influence over
-him, do you know?" continued Lady Adela,
-falling back on to safer ground.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes, lots," replied Connie, stifling the tiniest
-of yawns. "There goes your telephone."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Milroy will attend to it, dear. Let me see,"
-pursued Lady Adela, with studious vagueness--"what
-were we talking about?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Norah Puncheon's influence over Dicky,"
-replied Connie, popping a lump of sugar into her
-mouth and crunching it with all the satisfaction
-of a child of six.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You have noticed it yourself, then?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Connie, quite speechless, nodded.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Lady Adela beamed. The scent was growing
-stronger.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"In what way, dear?" she asked, with unfeigned
-interest.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Well," said Connie, after an interval of
-profound reflection, "Dicky wanted to back Prince
-Caramel for the St. Leger, and Norah would n't
-let him. He was so grateful to her afterwards!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Lady Adela summoned up a lopsided smile--the
-smile of a tarpon-fisher who has pulled up a
-red herring.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I think her influence goes deeper than that,
-dearest," she rejoined in patient reproof. "You,
-who only knew my son as a rather careless and
-light-hearted boy, would hardly credit--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"A telephone message, my lady!" announced
-Milroy, appearing at the dining-room door.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Lady Adela, tripped up on her way to a striking
-passage, sighed with an air of pathetic
-endurance, and enquired:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"From whom, Milroy?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"From Mr. Richard, my lady."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Mr. Richard? Where is he?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"He has telephoned from Shotley Post-Office,
-my lady," replied Milroy, keenly appreciating
-the mild sensation he was about to create; "to
-say that he has arrived by the four-fifteen and is
-walking up."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">Walking</em>--on a night like this?" cried Lady
-Adela, all the mother in her awake at once.
-"Tell him to wait, and I will send the motor."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Mr. Richard said he preferred walking, my
-lady," rejoined Milroy, growing more wooden
-as he approached the <em class="italics">clou</em> of his narrative. "He
-said he would explain when he arrived. But the
-luggage-cart was to go down."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"For one portmanteau?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"For the young lady's trunks, my lady."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Young lady?" Lady Adela turned a puzzled
-countenance to her companion. "Constance,
-dear, was not your luggage sent up with you?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes," replied Connie, scenting fun; "it was.
-I fancy this must be some other lady."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Light broke in on Lady Adela.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Norah Puncheon, after all!" she exclaimed
-joyfully. "Her throat must be better, and that
-headstrong son of mine has compelled her to
-come down by the four-fifteen."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"And walk up in the rain," supplemented Connie.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"The thoughtless boy!" wailed Lady Adela
-insincerely. "He will give her pneumonia."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Perhaps it is n't Miss Puncheon," suggested
-Connie soothingly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"But, my dear," said Lady Adela, refraining
-with great forbearance from slapping the small
-but discouraging counsellor by her side, "who
-else can it be?" She turned to Milroy.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Did Mr. Richard mention if he was bringing
-the young lady up with him?" she asked.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes, my lady," replied Milroy with unction--"he did."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Did he mention her name, Milroy?" enquired Connie.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No, Miss. He just said 'the young lady.' Will
-there be anything further, my lady?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No," snapped Lady Adela; and her aged
-retainer, as feverishly anxious beneath his
-perfectly schooled exterior to solve the mystery of
-his beloved Master Dick's latest escapade as his
-mistress, departed to lay another place for dinner.</p>
-<p class="pnext">In the hall there was a long silence. The wind
-roared round the house, and the rain drummed
-softly upon the diamond panes of the big oriel
-window.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It might be some old friend of the family,"
-said Lady Adela hopefully--"some one whom
-Dick has encountered unexpectedly and invited
-down. You know his impulsive, hospitable way!
-Aunt Fanny, perhaps."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"A <em class="italics">young</em> lady, I think Milroy said," replied
-the Job's comforter beside her.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Perhaps," pursued Lady Adela, still endeavouring
-to keep her courage up, "it is only one of
-the foolish boy's practical jokes."</p>
-<p class="pnext">These speculations were cut short by the
-prolonged buzz of an electric bell, followed by the
-sound of a spirited tattoo executed upon the
-panels of the front door, apparently by a
-walking-stick. The Freak (and party) had arrived.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Lady Adela sat bolt upright, almost pale.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Mercy! here they are!" she said.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Milroy, who had appeared from his lair with
-uncanny celerity, was already in the outer hall.
-There was the sound of a heavy door being
-opened; the curtains bulged out with the draught;
-and a voice was heard uplifted in cheery greeting.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Then the door banged, and Dicky Mainwaring
-appeared through the curtains.</p>
-<p class="pnext">He was alone, and very wet.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What ho, Mum!" he observed, after the
-fashion of the present generation.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"My son!" exclaimed Lady Adela, advancing
-with outstretched arms.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky, enduring a somewhat lengthy
-embrace, suddenly caught sight of a small alert
-figure on the sofa. Curtailing the maternal
-caress as gently as possible, he darted forward.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Connie!" he cried enthusiastically. "What
-tremendous luck meeting you!" He shook his
-ancient ally by both hands.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I want you more at this moment," he continued
-earnestly, "than at any other period of my life."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Connie Carmyle pointed an accusing finger at him.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Dicky Mainwaring," she enquired sternly,
-"where is your lady friend?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I was just going to introduce her," replied
-Dicky, with a rapturous smile. "I wonder where
-she has got to, by the way. Found a mirror, I
-expect."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Then he raised his voice and cried:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Tilly!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Hallo!" replied an extremely small voice;
-and a shrinking figure appeared in the opening
-of the curtains.</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center large pfirst" id="lucidity-itself">CHAPTER XIII</p>
-<p class="center medium pnext">LUCIDITY ITSELF</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="center medium pfirst">I</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">"This, Mum," announced Dicky in tones of
-immense pride, "is Tilly. Miss Welwyn, you know."</p>
-<p class="pnext">He advanced to the girl, who still stood
-hesitatingly in the opening of the curtains, and drew
-her forward by the hand.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Come along, little thing," he said, in a voice
-which made Connie Carmyle's heart warm to
-him. "Don't be frightened. I present to you my
-lady mother. You will know one another
-intimately in no time," he added untruthfully.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Miss Tilly Welwyn advanced with faltering
-steps. It was seen now that she was <em class="italics">petite</em>, almost
-the same height and build as Connie Carmyle,
-with great grey eyes and a pretty mouth. She
-was wrapped in a man's Burberry coat, and wore
-a motor veil tied under her chin. Rain dripped
-from her in all directions. Timidly she extended
-a glistening and froggy paw in the direction of
-her hostess.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"How do you do, Miss Weller?" said Lady
-Adela, mystified but well-bred.</p>
-<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure" style="width: 59%" id="figure-34">
-<span id="how-do-you-do-miss-weller-said-lady-adela-mystified-but-well-bred"></span><img class="align-center" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=" " src="images/img-170.jpg" />
-<div class="caption figure">
-"HOW DO YOU DO, MISS WELLER?" SAID LADY ADELA, MYSTIFIED BUT WELL-BRED</div>
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">"Very well, thank you," replied the visitor
-in a frightened squeak.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky cheerfully set his parent right upon the
-subject of Miss Welwyn's surname, and then
-introduced Mrs. Carmyle.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Tilly," he said, "this is Connie--one of the
-very best that ever stepped! Don't forget that:
-you will never hear a truer word."</p>
-<p class="pnext">The two girls regarded one another for a
-moment, and then shook hands with instinctive
-friendliness. The small stranger's face cleared,
-and she smiled, first at Connie and then up at
-Dicky.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Thereafter came a pause. The atmosphere was
-tense with enquiry. One could almost feel the
-Marconigrams radiating from Lady Adela. But
-apparently The Freak's coherer was out of order.
-He merely turned towards the staircase, and
-exclaimed:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Hallo, here are Dad and Sylvia. These are
-the last two," he added in a reassuring
-undertone to Miss Welwyn. "Quite tame, both of
-them."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Mainwaring's face lit up joyfully at the
-sight of his son, and he hurried forward.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Dick, my boy, you've arrived at last!
-Capital!" He clapped the prodigal on the shoulder.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes, Dad," replied Dicky with equal zest;
-"we have arrived. This is Tilly!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Mainwaring, entirely at sea but innately
-hospitable, greeted Tilly heartily. "You must be
-terribly cold," he said. "Come to the fire and let
-me take off that wet garment of yours."</p>
-<p class="pnext">He led the girl to the blaze, then turned to
-shoot a glance of respectful enquiry in the
-direction of his august spouse. It was ignored.
-Meanwhile Dicky had introduced the languid but far
-from indifferent Sylvia.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Now you all know one another," he said.
-"Sylvia, be a dear old soul and take Miss
-Welwyn up to your room and give her some dry
-things, will you? She is soaking, and her
-luggage is n't here yet. You see," he added a little
-lamely--Sylvia's patrician calm had rather
-dashed him as usual--"we walked from the
-station--did n't we, Tilly?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Tilly nodded dutifully, eyeing Sylvia the while
-with some distrust.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You will take care of her, won't you?"
-concluded the solicitous Dicky.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Surely!" replied Sylvia, in her grandest
-manner. "This way, Miss Welwyn."</p>
-<p class="pnext">She swept across the hall and up the staircase,
-followed by the small, moist, and mysterious
-figure of the newcomer.</p>
-<p class="pnext">At the foot of the stair Tilly halted and looked
-back. Dicky, who had been following her with
-his eyes, was at her side in a moment.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What is it?" he asked in a low voice.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The girl laid an appealing hand on his arm.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Don't leave me, Dicky!" she whispered.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The Freak replied by tucking her arm under
-his own and propelling her vigorously up to the
-turn of the stair.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Don't be a little juggins," he said affectionately.
-"<em class="italics">I</em> can't come and change your shoes and
-stockings for you, can I?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Miss Welwyn, acquiescing in this eminently
-correct view of the matter, smiled submissively.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"All right," she said. "Au revoir!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">She ran lightly upstairs after the disappearing
-Sylvia, turning to wave her hand to Dicky before
-she disappeared.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky, who had waited below for that purpose,
-acknowledged the salute, and turned to find
-Mrs. Carmyle at his elbow.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Dicky," announced that small Samaritan,
-"I am going up, too. Sylvia might bite your
-ewe lamb."</p>
-<p class="pnext">The Freak smiled gratefully.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"The Lady and the Tiger--eh?" he said.
-"Connie, you are a brick! Be tender with her,
-won't you?" he added gently. "She's scared
-to death at present, and no wonder!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Connie Carmyle, with a reassuring pat upon
-the anxious young man's arm, turned and sped
-upstairs. Dicky, hands in pockets and head in
-air, strolled happily back into the circle of firelight
-and took up his stand upon the hearthrug. Lady
-Adela, looking like a large volcano in the very
-last stages of self-suppression, sat simmering
-over the teacups.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The heir of the Mainwarings addressed his
-parents affectionately.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Well, dear old things," he enquired, "how
-are we? So sorry to be late for tea, but it was an
-eventful and perilous journey."</p>
-<p class="pnext">The long-overdue eruption came at last.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Dick," demanded Lady Adela explosively,
-"why have you brought that young person here?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Young per--oh, Tilly?" Dicky smiled
-ecstatically to himself at the very sound of Miss
-Welwyn's name. "Tilly? Well, I don't see what
-else I could have done with her, Mummie dear.
-I could n't leave her at the station, could I?
-But I must tell you about our adventures. First
-of all we lost Percy."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Dick," repeated Lady Adela, "<em class="italics">who--is--</em>?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Who is Percy?" asked Dicky readily. "I
-forgot; I have n't told you about Percy. He is
-her brother. A most amazing fellow: knows
-everything. Can explain to you in two minutes
-all the things you have failed to understand for
-years. Teach you something you did n't know,
-I should n't wonder, Mother. He is going to
-introduce me to some of his friends, and put me
-up for his club."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What club, my boy?" interposed Mr. Mainwaring,
-snatching at this gleam of light in the
-general murkiness.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"'The Crouch End Gladiators,' I think they 're
-called," said Dicky. "But I have n't met any of
-them yet."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Where is Crouch End?" enquired Lady
-Adela. "And why should one have a club there?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It is a cycling club," explained Dicky. "You
-go out for spins in the country on Saturday
-afternoons. Topping! I'll bring them down here
-one day if you like! Each member is allowed
-to have one lady guest," he added, with a happy
-smile. "But to resume. We lost friend Percy at
-Waterloo. He went to get a bicycle ticket, or
-something, and was no more seen. The train
-started without him. Tilly was fearfully upset
-about it: said she thought it was n't quite proper
-for her to come down without a chaperon on her
-first visit."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"She proposes to come again, then?" said Lady
-Adela, with a short quavering laugh.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky stopped short, and regarded his mother
-with unfeigned astonishment.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Come again? I should think she was coming
-again! Anyhow, the poor little thing was quite
-distressed when we lost Perce."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"That, dear," remarked Lady Adela icily, "is
-what I should call straining at a gnat and
-swallowing a camel. And now, my boy, let me beg
-you to tell me--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky, who was too fully occupied with the
-recollections of his recent journey to be aware
-of the physical and mental strain to which he
-was subjecting his revered parents, suddenly
-started off down a fresh alley of irrelevant
-reminiscence.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Talking of camels," he said, "there is the goat."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Bless my soul, my dear lad!" exclaimed
-Mr. Mainwaring. "What goat?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky was perfectly ready to explain.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"When Tilly and I got out of the train at
-Shotley Beauchamp station," he began, "and
-found that you two absent-minded old dears had
-forgotten to send anything to meet us--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"But Dick, my boy," interposed the old
-gentleman--Lady Adela was rapidly progressing
-beyond the stage of articulate remonstrance--"how
-could your mother be expected to divine
-your intentions with regard to trains, or to know
-that you were bringing down--er--a guest?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I wrote and told you," said Dicky.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"When, pray?" enquired Lady Adela, finding
-speech again.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"The day before yesterday," said Dicky positively;
-"breaking the news about Tilly, and when
-we were coming, and--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"We received no letter from you," replied
-Lady Adela.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"But I wrote it, Mum!" cried Dicky. "I spent
-three hours over it. It was the most important
-letter I have ever written in my life! Is it likely
-a man could forget--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Feel in your pockets, my boy," suggested the
-experienced Mr. Mainwaring.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky smiled indulgently upon his resourceful
-parent, and pulled out the contents of his
-breast-pocket--a handful of old letters and a cigarette
-case.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Anything to oblige you, Dad," he ran on,
-scanning the addresses. "But I know I posted
-the thing. A man does not forget on such an
-oc-- No! you are right. I'm a liar. Here it is!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">He produced a fat envelope from the bunch,
-and threw it down upon the tea-table.</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em">
-</div>
-<p class="center medium pfirst">II</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">"I forgive you both," he said, smiling serenely,
-"for not sending to meet us. Well, to return to
-the goat--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Veins began to stand out upon Lady Adela's
-patrician brow.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Richard," she exclaimed, in a low and vibrant
-tone--"for the last time, <em class="italics">who is that young
-woman</em>?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky stared down upon his afflicted parent
-in unaffected surprise, and then dissolved into
-happy laughter.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I must tell Tilly about this," he roared. "Of
-course, now I come to think of it, you don't know
-a thing about her. You never got my letter!
-Fancy you two poor old creatures sitting there as
-good as gold and wondering why I had brought
-her down here at all! Oh, my sainted Mother!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Who is she?" reiterated the sainted Mother,
-fighting for breath.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"She is my little girl," replied Dicky proudly.
-"We're engaged."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I knew it," said Lady Adela, in a hollow voice.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"And I have brought her down here to make
-your acquaintance, that's all!" concluded the
-happy lover, apparently surprised that his
-relationship to Miss Welwyn should ever have been
-a matter of doubt to any one. "We met the goat
-outside the station--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Lady Adela uttered a deep groan. Mr. Mainwaring
-rose from his seat and advanced upon his
-tall son, who still leaned easily against the
-mantel-piece, with his feet upon the hearthrug and his
-head above the clouds.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"My dearest boy," he said, patting Dicky
-affectionately and coaxingly upon the shoulder,
-"do you realise that you are our only son, and
-that as such we take a not unreasonable interest
-in your welfare? Would you mind postponing the
-goat for a moment and giving us a more explicit
-account of the young lady? I had only the merest
-glimpse of her just now," he concluded, doggedly
-avoiding his wife's eye, "but she struck me as
-charming--charming!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky's air of cheerful inanity fell from him
-like a cloak. Exultantly he took his father by the
-shoulders.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Dad," he shouted, "she's the most blessed
-little darling that ever walked this earth! She's
-a princess! She's a fairy! She's a--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">The rhapsodist broke off short, and flushed red.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Forgive me," he said, "for waffling like that,
-but I don't quite know what I 'm doing just at
-present. Dad, I'm the happiest man that ever lived!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"My boy, my boy," cried little Mr. Mainwaring,
-"I'm glad--I'm glad!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">And father and son, regardless of the feelings
-of the unfortunate lady upon the sofa, proceeded
-to shake one another violently and continuously
-by both hands.</p>
-<p class="pnext">At last they desisted, a little sheepishly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Abel," said a cold voice, "be seated. Dick,
-take that chair."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Both gentlemen complied meekly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I see," said Lady Adela, looking up from a
-rapid perusal of her son's letter, "that the girl's
-name is Tilly Welwyn. Tilly, I presume, is an
-abbreviation of Matilda?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I don't know," confessed Dicky. "But Tilly
-will," he added brightly. "She knows everything."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I notice," continued the Counsel for the
-Prosecution, still skimming through the letter, "that
-you have known one another for a short time--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Seven weeks, five days, four hours, and a few
-odd minutes," confirmed the defendant, looking
-at his watch.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"--And you became engaged as recently as
-last Sunday." Lady Adela laid down the letter.
-"Where?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"On the top of a 'bus."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"H'm!" said Mr. Mainwaring uneasily.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"A rather unusual place, was it not?"
-enquired Lady Adela coldly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Unusual," agreed Dicky readily, "but not
-irregular. Oh, no! Besides, Percy was there,
-three seats behind. Perfect dragon of a chaperon,
-old Perce! Yes, the proceedings were most
-correct, I promise you."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I note," continued Lady Adela, taking up the
-letter again, "that you do not say where you
-made Miss Welwyn's acquaintance."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"That was on the top of another 'bus,"
-explained Dicky, with a disarming smile.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"And was her brother," enquired Lady Adela,
-ominously calm, "present on <em class="italics">this</em> occasion?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Percy? Rather not! Otherwise I need not
-have interfered."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Int--" began both Lady Adela and
-Mr. Mainwaring together.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes," said Dicky glibly. "It was like this.
-The rain began to come down hard, and a rather
-poisonous-looking bounder sitting beside her
-offered her his umbrella."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Any gentleman would have done the same,
-Dick," interposed Mr. Mainwaring quietly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes, Dad. But I don't think any gentleman
-would have insisted on paying a girl's fare for
-her; and I don't think any gentleman would
-have considered a half-share in a three-and-ninepenny
-brolly an excuse for putting his arm
-round a girl's waist," replied Dicky, with sudden
-passion.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"He did that?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What did you do?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky grinned cheerfully.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I did a pretty bright thing," he said. "It
-was no business of mine, of course, and I
-naturally did n't want to start a brawl on the top of
-a Piccadilly omnibus--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Dick, what were you doing on the top of an
-omnibus at all?" demanded Lady Adela
-unexpectedly. "Such economies are a new feature
-of your character."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky nodded his head sagely.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes," he agreed, "that's a sound point--a
-sound point. What <em class="italics">was</em> I doing on the top of
-that omnibus at all? That's the mystery. I was
-extremely surprised myself. I have spent whole
-days since, wondering how I got there. I have
-come to the conclusion that it was Fate--just
-Fate! That's it--Fate!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"My dear boy, don't talk nonsense," said
-Lady Adela impatiently.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"But I am quite serious, dear Mum," persisted
-Dicky. "I don't as a rule go following
-unprotected young females onto the summits of
-omnibuses--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Lady Adela's fine eyes began to protrude,
-crabwise.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You <em class="italics">followed</em> her?" she gasped.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I did. What else was there to do?" said
-Dicky simply. "I might never have seen her
-again if I had n't. Fate does n't as a rule give a
-man two chances. I got this one, and I took it.
-One moment I was walking along Piccadilly,
-bucking about something to old Tiny Carmyle.
-Next moment there she was, stepping on to that
-Piccadilly 'bus. In about five seconds I found
-myself up on top, too, sitting on the seat behind
-her. I tell you, it must--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What became of Mr. Carmyle?" asked Lady
-Adela, ruthlessly interrupting another rhapsody.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky smiled vaguely, and rubbed his head.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Upon my soul, I don't know," he confessed.
-"It's the first time the matter has occurred to
-me. I expect he went home. He's a resourceful
-old creature."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"How did you dispose of the man with the
-umbrella, my boy?" enquired Mr. Mainwaring.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Ah," said Dicky, abandoning Carmyle to his
-fate, "that was where I did the bright thing. The
-fellow looked as if he made rather a hobby of this
-sort of game, and that gave me an idea. When he
-started amusing himself, I tapped him on the
-shoulder and said, right in his ear: 'Look here, my
-man, do you remember what happened to you
-the last time you were rude to a lady when you
-thought no one was with her?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Mainwaring rubbed his hands gently.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Well?" he said.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"At that," continued The Freak with relish,
-"my sportsman went a sort of ripe gorgonzola
-colour, grabbed his filthy brolly, and slid heavily
-down the back stairs of the 'bus."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"And what did you do then?" enquired Lady Adela.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I," replied Dicky triumphantly, "got up
-and took his seat and gave Tilly my umbrella!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Ha! ha! ha!" crowed Mr. Mainwaring delightedly.
-"H'm! h'm! h'm! Honk! honk! honk!"
-he concluded hurriedly, coughing laboriously and
-patting himself upon the chest, as his consort
-turned menacingly in his direction.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"And where did you part company?" asked
-Lady Adela.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Well," explained the culprit, "I offered to
-see her home. She was rather shaken up by what
-had happened."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Lady Adela nodded her head as if she had
-expected this.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I see. And what did the young woman--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Don't you think, Mum dear, that you might
-start calling her 'lady' now?" suggested Dicky
-gently.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"--Say to that?" she enquired, without taking
-the slightest notice of the interruption.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"She said she was n't going home. She was
-out shopping, it seemed. In fact, she got down at
-a shop in Oxford Street. I insisted on her
-keeping the umbrella, though."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"As a gift?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No," said Dicky with a twinkle; "as a hostage."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"And you gave her your address?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky's radiant countenance clouded for a
-moment.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Not quite," he said. "I meant to, of course;
-but I can't have been quite my own calm self; for
-instead of giving her my own address, I asked
-for hers."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"She gave it, I suppose?" said Lady Adela dryly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No. She hesitated badly. I ought to have
-realised at once that I was not quite playing the
-game; but I was so mad keen to see her again that
-the idea never occurred to me. I simply thought
-she had forgotten where she lived, or something,
-and waited."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"But finally," said Lady Adela, "the young--lady
-did confide her address to you?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky nodded, and his mother continued:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Where does she live?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Russell Square," said Dicky rapturously.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Russell Square? Ah! I know it. One drives
-through it on the way to Euston. In Bloomsbury,
-I believe?" said Lady Adela.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Her infatuated son corrected her. "Not
-Bloomsbury," he said reverently; "Heaven."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Quite so," agreed Lady Adela, entirely
-unmoved. "What number?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I have forgotten the number long ago,"
-replied Dicky, "but I could find my way to the
-place blindfold by this time."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Don't you ever write to her?" asked his
-mother curiously.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Every day."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Then you must know her postal address,"
-was the crushing rejoinder.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky merely shook his head, and smiled
-serenely.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No, I don't," he said.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Then where do you address her letters?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I walk round every night after bedtime, and
-drop the letter into her letter-box. Is it likely
-I would let a postman touch it? Anyhow, on this
-occasion Tilly told me that if I asked for my
-umbrella any time I was passing it would be
-handed out to me. Then she thanked me again,
-the darling, and went into the shop."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Front entrance?" enquired Lady Adela swiftly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Was it?" said Dicky vaguely. "I don't
-remember. Yes, I do. She went round and in
-at the side somewhere. Why?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Nothing," said Lady Adela. "And did you
-call at Russell Square?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Rather! I went there next afternoon."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Were you invited in?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"As a matter of fact, I met her coming out,
-with her father. A splendid old chap!
-Apparently Tilly had told him the whole tale, and he
-had expressed a desire to make my acquaintance.
-A lucky desire for me, what? He took us both
-out to tea."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Where?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Gunter's. Said he was sorry he could n't ask
-me into the house at present, as they had the
-paperhangers in. After that visitation was over,
-I was to come and make the acquaintance of
-the rest of the family."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"And did you?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What is the house like inside?" was the next
-inevitable feminine enquiry.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"To tell you the truth I have n't been inside
-yet, except the front hall. But I met the rest of
-the family at a very friendly little luncheon given
-in my honour at the Criterion on the following
-Saturday afternoon."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"And what are the rest of the family like?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky pondered.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Now I come to think it over," he confessed
-at length, "I'm not very clear about the rest of
-the family. Collectively they struck me as being
-the most charming people I had ever met, but
-I don't seem to have noticed them individually,
-if you know what I mean. You see, Tilly was
-there."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"How many are there?" pursued his mother,
-with exemplary patience.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Four or five, I should think, but I have never
-counted them," replied the exasperating
-Richard. "Tilly--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Mainwaring came timidly to his wife's aid.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Is there a mother, my boy?" he asked.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes, there is a mother," replied Dicky hastily.
-"Oh, yes," he repeated with more confidence,
-"certainly there is a mother."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Any sisters?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"There is a small girl--a dear. And I have a
-kind of notion there are some twins somewhere.
-Tilly--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Any brothers?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky smiled, apparently at some amusing
-thought.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes," he said, "there is Percy. A sterling
-fellow, Perce! I wonder where he is, by the way.
-If he were here he might be able to do something
-with the goat. Any one would respect Percy--even
-a goat."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Lady Adela sighed despairingly. Mr. Mainwaring,
-taking the goat by the horns, so to speak,
-asked his son to elucidate the mystery once and
-for all.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Did n't I tell you about the goat?" asked
-Dick in surprise. "Well, it was like this. When
-Tilly and I were hunting for a cab in the rain at
-the station just now, we met a woman with a
-goat, in tears."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"The goat?" said Lady Adela incredulously.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No, its mother--I mean, its proprietress.
-She had missed the market, or something, owing,
-to her pony breaking down, and she had come to
-the station as a forlorn hope, to see if she could
-catch a departing goat-merchant and unload
-Maximilian on him."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Maximilian?" interjected Lady Adela giddily.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes--the goat. We had to call him <em class="italics">something</em>,
-you know. Her husband was very ill in
-bed, and Maximilian had to be sold to defray
-expenses, it seemed."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"And so you--er--purchased Maximilian?"
-said Mr. Mainwaring.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"We did," replied The Freak gravely. "That
-was why we had to walk. The cabman would not
-allow us to take Maximilian inside with us, and
-Max absolutely declined to sit on the box beside
-the cabman--which did n't altogether surprise
-me--so we all three had to come here on our
-arched insteps. I wonder where Tilly is."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Where is the animal now?" enquired Lady
-Adela apprehensively. She was quite prepared
-to hear that Maximilian was already in the best
-bedroom.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"We left him on the lawn, tethered to the
-rain-gauge," replied Dicky. "Ah, there she is!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Forgetting the goat and all other impediments
-to the course of true love, he hurried to the foot
-of the staircase.</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em">
-</div>
-<p class="center medium pfirst">III</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">Miss Welwyn and Mrs. Carmyle descended
-the stairs together, Sylvia stalking majestically
-in the rear. Tilly wore a short navy-blue skirt
-and a soft silk shirt belonging to Connie--garments
-which, owing to the mysterious readiness
-with which the female form accommodates itself
-to the wardrobe of its neighbour, fitted her to
-perfection. In this case, however, the miracle
-was less noticeable than usual, for the two girls
-were of much the same height and build, their
-chief points of difference being their hair and eyes.</p>
-<p class="pnext">In reply to her swain's tender enquiries, Miss
-Welwyn intimated that she was now warm and dry.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"In that case," replied Dicky, "come and sit
-up to the tea-table and take some nourishment."</p>
-<p class="pnext">On her way to her tea Tilly was met by
-Mr. Mainwaring senior, with outstretched hands.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"My dear young lady," he said, with shy
-cordiality, "we owe you a most humble apology."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Tilly, flushing prettily, asked why.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"For our extremely vague greeting to you just
-now," explained her host. "You see"--he
-clapped Dicky fondly on the shoulder--"this
-intellectual son of ours forgot to post the letter
-announcing your--telling us about you. We
-have only just heard the news. Now that we
-have you, my dear"--the old gentleman's eyes
-beamed affectionately--"we are going to make
-much of you!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Oh, thank you! You <em class="italics">are</em> kind!" cried Tilly
-impulsively; and smiled gratefully upon her future
-father-in-law. His were the first official words
-of welcome that she had received.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Good old Dad!" said Dicky.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Meanwhile Lady Adela had come to the
-conclusion that her male belongings were
-overdoing it.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Do you take sugar, Miss Welwyn?" she
-enquired loudly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes, please," said Tilly, still engaged in
-smiling affectionately upon the Mainwarings,
-<em class="italics">père et fils</em>.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I wonder now," continued Mr. Mainwaring,
-"if you are in any way related to an old friend of
-mine--or perhaps I should say acquaintance,
-for he moved on a higher plane than I--Lucius
-Welwyn? I was at school with him more than
-forty years ago, and also at Cambridge."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Lucius Welwyn?" cried Tilly, her eyes
-glowing. "He is my Daddy--my father!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You don't say so? Capital!" Abel Mainwaring
-turned to his wife. "Adela, do you hear
-that? Miss Welwyn and I have established a
-bond of union already. Her father was actually
-at school with me."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Lady Adela flatly declined to join in the
-general enthusiasm.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Are you sure, dear?" was all she said. "There
-might be two."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Mainwaring pointed out, with truth, that
-Lucius Welwyn was an uncommon name. "But
-we can easily make sure," he said. "The Lucius
-Welwyn whom I remember was a Fellow of his
-College. Did your father--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes, Dad was a Fellow of his College for some
-years," said Tilly. "I think I will come a little
-farther from the fire now, if you don't mind.
-I am quite warm."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Come and sit here by me, dear Miss Welwyn,"
-said Lady Adela with sudden affability. "I
-want to have a cosy little chat with you. Dick,
-you are very wet and muddy. Go and change."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"All right," said Dicky obediently.</p>
-<p class="pnext">As he left the hall he said something in a low
-voice to Mrs. Carmyle. That small champion
-of the oppressed nodded comprehendingly, and
-established herself at a writing-table under the
-curtained window.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Abel," enquired Lady Adela, in pursuance of
-her policy of once more clearing the decks for
-action, "what have you done with Mr. Rylands?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I quite forgot him," confessed Mr. Mainwaring.
-"I was so much occupied with Miss Welwyn.
-I fear he is still in the smoking-room."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Go and let him out--by the side door,"
-commanded Lady Adela.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Come on, Dad!" said Dicky.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Father and son disappeared, arm-in-arm;
-Lady Adela and Sylvia closed in upon the
-flinching Miss Welwyn; and Mrs. Carmyle, taking up
-her pen, addressed herself to the composition of
-an epistle to her lord and master.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Lady Adela looked round, and remarked in
-solicitous tones:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Constance, dear, you have chosen a very
-draughty corner for yourself."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I have put fresh note-paper in your bedroom,
-Connie," added Sylvia cordially.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I'm as right as rain, thanks," said Connie.
-"Just scribbling a line to Bill."</p>
-<p class="pnext">And she began:--</p>
-<p class="pnext"><em class="italics">I have arrived quite safely, old man, and the most
-tremendously exciting things are happening here.
-Listen!</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center large pfirst" id="another-cosy-chat-with-an-interruption">CHAPTER XIV</p>
-<p class="center medium pnext">ANOTHER COSY CHAT, WITH AN INTERRUPTION</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="center medium pfirst">I</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><em class="italics">The victim</em>, continued Connie presently, <em class="italics">is now
-upon the sofa, wedged in between the Chief Ogress
-and the Assistant Tormentor. She is scared out of
-her wits, poor thing, but has stood up to the pair of
-them splendidly so far</em>.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It was good of you to come down to this poky
-little corner of the country, Miss Welwyn," Lady
-Adela was saying, handing Tilly a second cup of
-tea. "It is so nice when one's friends take one as
-they find one, is it not?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Tilly, wide-eyed and quaking, was understood
-to assent to this proposition.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You live in town, I understand?" continued
-Lady Adela cautiously.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Tilly took a deep breath, and began:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes--in Russell Square. The house," she
-continued rapidly, "is very old-fashioned. It
-belonged to my grandfather. My father inherited
-from him, and we have lived there ever since we
-left Cambridge. We have often talked of
-leaving, but Dad says he can't bear transplanting at
-his time of life. So," concluded Tilly, with an
-hysterical little gasp--Lady Adela and Sylvia
-were listening with the dispassionate immobility
-of a pair of well-nourished sphinxes--"we just
-stay on."</p>
-<p class="pnext"><em class="italics">She has confessed that she lives in Bloomsbury</em>,
-wrote Mrs. Carmyle. <em class="italics">The Inquisition are one up</em>.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Russell Square!" cooed Lady Adela. "How
-charming and old-fashioned! So handy for the
-British Museum, too!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"And Euston Road!" added Sylvia enthusiastically.</p>
-<p class="pnext"><em class="italics">Cats! Cats!! Cats!!!</em> recorded Connie furiously.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Lady Adela offered Tilly a bun, and resumed
-her long-distance fire.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You are quite a small family, I imagine?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Well," began Tilly readily--they had reached
-a topic that lay very near her heart--"there
-are Father and Mother, of course, and my
-brother Percy, and my sister, and two quite tiny
-ones. My grandmother--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"How nice," murmured Lady Adela indulgently,
-closing her eyes as if to mitigate the
-strain of this enumeration. "And what is your
-little sister's name?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Amelia."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Amelia? Delightful! Perfect! It suits
-Russell Square exactly."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"One feels," corroborated Sylvia, "as if the
-Sedleys and the Osbornes and the Rawdon
-Crawleys all lived next door."</p>
-<p class="pnext"><em class="italics">Why don't they smack people like Sylvia more
-in their youth?</em> enquired Mrs. Carmyle's letter
-plaintively.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I don't think we have met any of <em class="italics">them</em>," said
-Miss Welwyn doubtfully. "The Mossops live on
-one side of us and the Rosenbaums on the other.
-We don't call on them, of course," she added
-apprehensively. "And oh, Lady Adela, I have
-an invitation for you from my mother, to come
-and have tea with us."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"That is very kind of your mother," said Lady
-Adela graciously. "You shall give me the
-invitation when you have unpacked your boxes."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It's--it's not a written invitation," said
-Tilly. "Mother just asked me to ask you, any
-day you happen to be coming into town. Then
-you would meet my father and the others."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"That will be charming," replied Lady Adela.
-"I think we have no engagement on Monday." (<em class="italics">Lady
-A. is simply bursting with curiosity about
-the girl's family</em>, observed Connie at this point.) "I
-will write a little note to your mother, and
-you shall take it back with you on Monday
-morning. Are you the eldest of the family?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No. Perce--Percy is the eldest. He is
-twenty-two."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Is he at the University?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Miss Welwyn shook her head.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Not now," she said. She spoke with more
-freedom. The restraint of her surroundings was
-wearing off, and her courage, which was
-considerable, was beginning to assert itself. "He is in
-the City. He dislikes it very much, poor boy.
-He is so fond of open-air sports, and he finds an
-office very trying. My father was a great
-sportsman, too. He used to go racing a good deal at one
-time, but he has given it up now. He says he is
-on the shelf."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"And he was a Fellow of his College, I think
-you said?" remarked Lady Adela, a little bored
-with this prattle.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes--Fellow and Tutor."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"But he is no longer in residence, you say?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No," said Tilly briefly.</p>
-<p class="pnext"><em class="italics">There is something shady about the poor child's
-father</em>, wrote Mrs. Carmyle, <em class="italics">but Lady A. has got
-no change out of her so far</em>.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I am looking forward greatly to making your
-father's acquaintance, Miss Welwyn," said Lady
-Adela, with absolute sincerity. "Now, I wonder
-if I know any of your mother's people. I don't
-think you have mentioned her maiden name."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"She was a Banks," replied Miss Welwyn readily.</p>
-<p class="pnext"><em class="italics">Bill, dear, this little girl is splendid!</em> recorded
-Connie enthusiastically.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I beg your pardon?" said Lady Adela.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"A Banks," repeated Tilly politely.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Lady Adela nodded her head intelligently.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Ah, to be sure!" she said. "Let me see. Are
-they a Warwickshire family, now?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Or is it a Cornish name?" queried Sylvia,
-with an encouraging smile.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No," said Tilly. "Mother came from
-Bedfordshire--or else Cambridgeshire," she added
-rather breathlessly, for the four eyes of the
-sphinxes were upon her once more.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"But, dear Miss Welwyn--" began Sylvia.</p>
-<p class="pnext"><em class="italics">I can stand this no longer!</em> scribbled Connie,
-and threw down her pen.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Thank goodness, that's over!" she exclaimed,
-rising and coming over to the fire. "What a
-nuisance affectionate husbands are! Talking of
-husbands, Sylvia, I hear you are going to marry
-a plumber."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Lady Adela and Sylvia, taken in flank, both
-turned and eyed the frivolous interloper severely.
-Had they not done so, they would have noted
-that Miss Welwyn's teacup had almost leaped
-from its saucer.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Dear Connie, you are priceless," commented
-Sylvia patronisingly. "I wonder where you got
-your quaint sense of humour."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Lady Adela was my informant," said Connie,
-quite unruffled. She had drawn the enemy's fire
-upon herself, which was precisely what she had
-intended to do. "Jolly sensible of you, too! A
-plumber is a useful little thing to have about a
-house. My Bill is practically one, you know,
-although he calls himself something grander.
-Now, what about a four-handed game of billiards
-before dinner? Do you feel inclined to play,
-Miss Welwyn?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I am rather out of practice," said Tilly
-dubiously.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Never mind!" said Connie. "You can play
-with Dicky against Mr. Mainwaring and me."</p>
-<p class="pnext">She walked to the foot of the staircase, and
-called up: "Mr. Richard, forward!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"In one moment, Miss!" replied a voice far
-up the height. "I'm just attending to a lady
-at the ribbon counter. I'll step down
-directly." Then a stentorian bawl: "Sign, please!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">During this characteristic exchange of inanities
-an electric bell purred faintly in the distance,
-with the usual result that the dining-room door
-opened, to emit the jinnee-like presence of Mr. Milroy.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What is it, Milroy?" enquired Lady Adela.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Front door bell, my lady," replied Milroy,
-and disappeared like a corpulent wraith through
-the curtains.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Heavens, not <em class="italics">another</em> caller!" exclaimed the
-overwrought mistress of the household.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Probably Mr. Rylands come back for his
-goloshes," said Sylvia. At the same moment
-Dicky and his father appeared, descending the
-staircase together.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">And</em> the next article, madam?" continued
-Dick lustily, addressing Mrs. Carmyle, who
-stood below.</p>
-<p class="pnext">He was answered, not by the lady to whom his
-query was addressed, but by Milroy, who
-appeared holding back one of the curtains which
-covered the entrance to the vestibule, to
-announce, in the resigned tones of a man for whom
-life holds no further surprises:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Mr. Percy Welwyn!"</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em">
-</div>
-<p class="center medium pfirst">II</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">Mr. Percy Welwyn entered. He was a slender
-young man with an insufficient chin and a small
-moustache. He looked like a shop assistant; and
-Dicky's last remark, still ringing through the
-hall, emphasised rather than suggested the
-comparison. His hair was brushed low down upon
-his forehead, with an elaborate curl over his right
-eyebrow. His eyes were bulgy. He wore a
-tight-fitting cycling suit, splashed with mud, and
-carried in his hand a small tweed cap bearing a metal
-badge. Altogether an impartial observer might
-have been excused for not feeling greatly
-surprised that Dicky and Tilly had mislaid him.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Welwyn advanced to the fire, with the
-easy grace of one who is habitually a success in
-whatever grade of society he finds himself, and
-remarked: "Good-evenin', all!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">For a moment there was a frozen silence.
-Then Dicky hurried forward.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"My dear Percy," he exclaimed, wringing the
-newcomer by the hand, "here you are, after all!
-Dear old soul! Let me present the rest of my
-family."</p>
-<p class="pnext">He linked his arm in that of the travel-stained
-cyclist, and led him towards the petrified Lady
-Adela.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Mother," he announced, "this is my friend
-Percy Welwyn."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Mr. Percy Welwyn," said a gentle voice in
-his ear.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Sorry, old man!" said Dicky hastily.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No offence taken," Mr. Welwyn assured him,
-"where none intended. This, I presume,"--he
-waved his dripping tweed cap in the face of
-the speechless matron before him,--"is your
-hostess."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes," said Dicky. "My mother, Lady Adela
-Mainwaring."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Welwyn shook hands affably.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"How de do, your ladyship?" he said. "Very
-pleased to make your ladyship's acquaintance,
-I'm sure."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"And this," continued Dicky, swiftly wheeling
-his guest out of the danger zone, "is my old Dad."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"How do you do, Mr. Welwyn?" said Mr. Mainwaring,
-with a courteous little bow. "We
-make you welcome."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"How de do, your lordship?" replied Mr. Welwyn,
-repeating his hand-shaking performance.
-"Very pleased to make your lordship's acquaintance."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"That's an error on your part, Percy," said
-Dicky smoothly. "Dad's only a commoner.
-But we'll work it out afterwards. This is my
-little sister Sylvia."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Welwyn greeted the statuesque Miss
-Mainwaring as he had greeted her parents,
-throwing in an ingratiating ogle which plainly
-intimated that he intended to make an
-impression in this quarter.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Very pleased to make <em class="italics">your</em> acquaintance,
-Miss," he said. "We shall be calling each other
-Perce and Sylvie in no time, I can see. And now,"
-he continued, turning his back upon the quivering
-figure of his future playmate, "I should like
-to address a few observations to the happy couple.
-You're a nice pair of turtle-doves to come and
-play gooseberry to, I don't suppose! Here I give
-up a whole Saturday afternoon to come and
-chaperon our Tilly and her young gentleman
-down to his ancestral home; and the first thing
-I know is the pair of them give me the slip at
-Waterloo! Chronic, I call it!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What else did you expect, Mr. Welwyn?"
-interposed Connie, coming characteristically to
-the rescue, the majority of the Mainwaring
-family being in no condition to cope with
-Percy. "Have n't you ever been engaged yourself?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Her unsolicited intrusion into the conversation
-was plainly a shock to Percy's sense of
-decorum. He coughed reprovingly behind his
-hand, and turning to Dicky, remarked:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Introdooce me!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky, humble and apologetic, complied.
-Mr. Welwyn went through his usual performance,
-and continued:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Engaged, Mrs. Carmyle? Not me! Not
-that I might n't have bin, mark you, if I had n't
-been born careful. Be born careful, and you
-need n't be born lucky. The Proverbs of
-Perce--Number one!" he added, in a humorous aside.
-"Well, to resume. Luckily I had the old
-push-bike with me, and I managed to find my way
-down here in a matter of an hour and a half or
-so. And then what happens? Just as I am doing
-a final spin up your kerridge-drive, your
-ladyship--<em class="italics">bing! bang!</em> and I get bowled over in the
-dark by a charging rhinoceros!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Welwyn concluded this dramatic narrative
-with a few appropriate gestures, and paused
-to note its effect upon his auditors.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"That was Maximilian, I fancy," explained
-Dicky cheerfully. "The little fellow must have
-got loose. Did you notice which way he was
-going?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I did," replied Percy with feeling. "He was
-going the opposite way to me."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"In that case," replied Dicky reflectively, "he
-must be halfway back to mother by this time.
-Well, perhaps it is just as well. Did you happen
-to observe whether he had the rain-gauge with
-him?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"All I remarked," replied Mr. Welwyn bitterly,
-"was about half a mudguard. But that,"
-he continued, with a winning smile to the ladies,
-"is neither here nor there, is it? Seeing as you
-are safe, Tilly, old girl, I think I may now resign
-the post of chaperon into her ladyship's hands.
-And perhaps," he added with a graceful bow,
-"I may be permitted to remark that in my
-humble opinion a more capable pair of hands could
-not be found for the job."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Lady Adela had suffered severely that day, and
-her spirit for the time being was almost broken.
-She merely smiled weakly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Welwyn, now at the very top of his form,
-struck an attitude.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"My trusty iron steed," he declaimed, "waits
-without the battlements--all but a few spokes,
-that is, accounted for by the aforesaid rhinoceros--and
-I must hence, to ketch the seven-fifteen
-back to Londinium."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Does that mean he is going?" murmured
-Lady Adela to her daughter, with a flutter of
-hope upon her drawn features.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Sylvia was nodding reassuringly, when the
-tactless Dicky broke in:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Percy, old son, you really must stay for
-dinner, if not for the night."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"We can't send you away empty in weather
-like this, Mr. Welwyn," added Mr. Mainwaring
-hospitably. "My dear--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">He turned to his wife, but the words froze upon
-his lips, for Lady Adela presented an appearance
-that can only be described as terrible. But the
-impervious Percy noticed nothing.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"By my halidom," he exclaimed, highly
-gratified, "that was well spoken! Yet it cannot be.
-I thank you, ladies and gentles all, for your
-courtly hospitality; but, as the bard observes:
-'I <em class="italics">must</em> get home to-night!'" (Here he broke
-into song, and indulged in what are known in
-theatrical circles as "a few steps.") "The club
-has an important run billed for to-morrow, and
-if little Percy is missing, there will be enquiries.
-Still, rather than disoblige, I'll split the
-difference. I will drain a stirrup-cup of foaming Bass
-with ye ere I depart. Then, forward across
-the drawbridge! Yoicks! Likewise Tally Ho!
-Which way, fair sir," concluded this high-spirited
-youth, turning to his host, "to the Saloon Bar?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Percy," remarked Dicky hurriedly, "you are
-immense! You ought to go on the Halls. Come
-along! This way!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I have bin approached, mind you," began
-the comedian, taking Dicky's arm, "but!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Are you coming too, Tilly?" asked Dicky,
-looking back.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Tilly, who had been apprehensively regarding
-the flinty countenances of her future relatives-in-law,
-assented hurriedly and gratefully.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes, please," she said. "I will come and see
-Percy off."</p>
-<p class="pnext">She took Dicky's free arm.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"'T is meet and fitting," observed the ebullient
-Percy. "We will drain a tankard jointly.
-Right away! Pip, pip! Good-morrow, knights
-and ladies all!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">The trio disappeared into the dining-room,
-leaving a most uncanny silence behind them!</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Mainwaring hastily picked up the evening
-paper and enshrouded himself in its folds. Lady
-Adela feebly signalled to Sylvia for the smelling-salts.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"A perfectly <em class="italics">appalling</em> young man!" she announced.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"And a perfectly sweet little girl!" quoth
-loyal Connie.</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center large pfirst" id="a-day-of-calm-reflection">CHAPTER XV</p>
-<p class="center medium pnext">A DAY OF CALM REFLECTION</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="center medium pfirst">I</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">At half-past eight next morning Connie
-Carmyle, wearing a tweed coat and skirt and neat
-brown brogues, came whistling downstairs, intent
-upon a constitutional before breakfast.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Upon the sofa in front of the hall-fire,
-self-consciously perusing a Sunday newspaper, sat a large
-man of slightly sheepish appearance. At the
-sight of Connie he rose guiltily to his feet.
-Mrs. Carmyle embraced him in a motherly fashion.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"And may I ask what you are doing here, my
-man?" she enquired.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Finished things off last night after all,"
-replied her husband; "so thought I might as
-well run down this morning and spend the day."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Why?" asked Mrs. Carmyle wonderingly.
-She knew perfectly well; but being a woman and
-the possessor of an undemonstrative husband, it
-pleased her to spur him into making an exhibition
-of himself.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Thought I should like a rest," said
-Mr. Carmyle gruffly. "Had a pretty tough week,"
-he added, in a pusillanimous attempt to excite
-compassion.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Is that the only reason?" persisted his
-heartless spouse.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Having a wife, thought I might as well come
-and see her for an hour or two," conceded
-Carmyle grudgingly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You must put it better than that, darling,"
-said Connie inexorably. "Now, be a little man!
-You came because--because--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">The sorely-harrassed husband, driven into a
-corner, turned a deep plum-colour.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Because I love you!" he growled. "Now
-chuck it, Connie, for goodness' sake!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">He was rewarded by a radiant smile.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"That is much better," said Connie approvingly.
-"Now you shall have some breakfast.
-After that I have a great deal for you to do."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You can take us for a drive in the car."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Us?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes--us. Me, Dicky, and his fiancée,"
-answered Connie very distinctly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Righto!" replied this maddening man unconcernedly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Connie heaved a patient little sigh, and
-repeated:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Me, Dicky, and--his fiancée."</p>
-<p class="pnext">This effort was more successful.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Righto!" said Carmyle once more. "Freak
-engaged again?" he added as an afterthought.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Connie cast up her eyes in a piteous fashion,
-as if to imply that it is better to have a
-husband like this than none at all, and replied
-resignedly:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes. It's a long story. I wrote you a letter
-about it last night. Here it is in the post-basket.
-Read it now; while I run and break the news
-of your visitation to Lady Adela."</p>
-<p class="pnext">By the time that Connie returned, her taciturn
-but capable husband had mastered the contents
-of her letter--parentheses, italics, notes of
-exclamation, and all--and was ready to receive
-the orders of the day.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Now, listen," commanded Connie swiftly.
-"At breakfast you will invite Dicky and Tilly
-to come for a run in the motor. I don't know
-anything about that girl, but I had a long talk with
-her last night when we were getting ready for
-bed, and she is the right sort. She seemed to like
-me, too. What did you say?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Nothing," replied the exasperating William.
-"Go on."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Anyhow," continued Connie, ignoring a
-mysterious chuckle, "I am not going to have her
-pumped and bullied by Lady Adela and Sylvia
-before she has found her feet. Therefore we will
-take her and Dicky away for the day. Get your
-invitation off at breakfast, before Lady Adela
-begins organising a party for church. The young
-couple can have the back seat to themselves, and
-I will come in front with you."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Anything you like," replied Carmyle cheerfully.
-He had been looking forward to an indolent
-morning with Connie in the smoking-room, for
-he really had had a hard week; but he never
-questioned the dispositions of the small goddess who
-controlled his movements. Whatever she
-ordained was right.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Thank you, Bill darling! I love you very much."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mrs. Carmyle stood upon tiptoe, and with an
-affectionate sigh endeavoured to lay her head
-upon her husband's left shoulder. Mr. Carmyle
-gave her no assistance. He merely removed his
-sovereign-purse with some ostentation from his
-left-hand waistcoat-pocket to his right.</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em">
-</div>
-<p class="center medium pfirst">II</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">"This is the first time that you and I have
-been out in a motor together, Tilly," remarked
-Dicky a few hours later, taking advantage of a
-jolt on the part of the car to annihilate a portion
-of the space which separated him from his beloved.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Tilly, availing herself of a margin which
-instinct and experience had taught her to provide
-for such contingencies as this, moved a
-corresponding number of inches farther away, and
-pointed out that they had enjoyed a motor-ride
-together only three days previously.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"On a motor-'bus," she explained.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Motor-'bus? Not a bit. Fairy coach!"
-declared her highly imaginative swain.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Fairy coaches don't as a rule carry eighteen
-inside and twenty-two outside, dear," replied the
-matter-of-fact Miss Welwyn.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No, you are right," admitted Dicky. "Fairy
-coaches are invariably two-seaters. This one
-is n't a bad substitute, though--what?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">He lolled luxuriously, and turned to survey the
-profile beside him. Tilly was wearing a
-saxe-blue <em class="italics">suède</em> hat, secured to her head by a filmy
-motor-veil--both the property of the
-open-handed Mrs. Carmyle, who was sitting in front
-driving the car under the complacent contemplation
-of her husband. The fur rug which Tilly
-shared with Dicky enveloped her to the chin: her
-cheeks glowed; her lips were parted in a smile of
-utter content; and her eyes were closed. Dicky
-tried to count the long lashes that swept her
-cheek. She was his! His--to keep, to cherish,
-to protect, to pamper, to spoil! Something very
-tremendous stirred within him--something that
-had never found a place in that receptive and
-elastic organ, his heart, before. All the dormant
-tenderness and chivalry of his nature seemed to
-heap itself up into a mighty tidal wave, topple
-over, and inundate his very soul. Foolish tears
-came into his eyes. Very reverently he reached
-for Tilly's hand under the rug. She surrendered
-it, smiling lazily, without raising her lashes.
-Dicky wondered what she was thinking about.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Tilly, on her part, was trying to summon up
-courage to tell him.</p>
-<p class="pnext">By this time the car had cleared the village of
-Shotley Beauchamp, filled with parties of
-worshippers hastening in what Connie described as
-"rival directions," and was spinning along the
-open road bound for the Surrey hills. It was a
-crisp and sunny morning. There was a touch
-of spring in the air, quickening the pulse.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I wonder," began Dicky, whose conversation
-at this period, like that of all healthy young men
-in a similar condition, wandered round in a clearly
-defined and most constricted circle, "if I had not
-had that row with the umbrella-merchant on the
-top of the Piccadilly 'bus, whether you and I
-would ever--"</p>
-<p class="pnext"><em class="italics">Bang!</em></p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Carmyle said something distressingly
-audible. Mrs. Carmyle applied the brakes; and the
-car, bumping uncomfortably, came to a standstill
-at the side of the road, under the lee of a pine wood.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Was that your collar-stud at last, Tiny, old
-man?" enquired The Freak anxiously.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Back tyre," replied Mr. Carmyle shortly,
-disencumbering himself of his rug.</p>
-<p class="pnext">They stepped out upon the muddy road and
-examined the off-hind wheel. The tyre was flat,
-but apparently whole.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It is the valve," announced Carmyle, after
-unscrewing the dust-cap. "Blown himself clean
-out of bed. That means a fresh inner tube. And
-I lent the Stepney wheel to a broken-down car
-coming along this morning!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Bad luck!" said Dicky speciously, glancing
-up at the pine wood. "Can Tilly and I help?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No, better run away and play."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky and Tilly, without further insincerities,
-obeyed at once.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I fear you will besmirch yourself, comrade,"
-said Dicky over his shoulder, as they departed.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Bet you half-a-crown I don't even dirty my
-gloves," replied Carmyle.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No: you'll take them off," replied the astute
-Richard.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No, kid!" persisted Carmyle. "I undertake
-to get a new inner tube put into this tyre without
-laying a finger on it. Is it a bet?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Is Connie going to do it?" asked Dicky
-incredulously.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"She is and she is n't. She won't lay a finger
-on the tyre either, though. Will you stake your
-half-crown like a man?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I suppose there is a catch about it somewhere,"
-said The Freak resignedly. "Still, I
-fancy we must humour the young people, Tilly.
-All right, my lad."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Carmyle turned to his wife.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Show them, Connie," he said.</p>
-<p class="pnext">His dutiful helpmeet selected a large tyre-lever,
-and sitting down in the midst of the King's
-highway upon the tool-box, in a position which
-combined the maximum of discomfort with the
-minimum of leverage, began to pick helplessly
-at the rim of the wheel. Occasionally she looked
-up and smiled pathetically.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Will that do, Bill dear?" she enquired.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes; but try and look a bit more of an idiot."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mrs. Carmyle complied.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Now you're overdoing it," said her stage-manager
-severely. "Don't loll your tongue out
-like a poodle's! <em class="italics">That's</em> better. Hallo, I believe
-I can hear a car already! Come on, you two--into
-this wood!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Next moment Tilly, beginning dimly to
-comprehend, was propelled over a split-rail fence
-by two muscular gentlemen and bustled into the
-fastnesses of the pine wood. The Casabianca-like
-Connie remained in an attitude of appealing
-helplessness upon the tool-box.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The pine wood ran up the side of a hill. The
-trio climbed a short distance, and then turned
-to survey the scene below them. Round the bend
-of the road came a car--a bulky, heavy, opulent
-limousine, going thirty-five miles an hour, and
-carrying a cargo of fur coats and diamonds.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Rolls-Royce. Something-in-the-City going
-down to lunch at Brighton," commented Dicky.
-"That's the wrong sort, anyhow."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Connie will be run over," cried Tilly apprehensively.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Not she," replied the callous Carmyle.</p>
-<p class="pnext">He was right. Connie, diagnosing the
-character of the approaching vehicle from afar, had
-already stepped round to the near side of her own,
-escaping a shower bath of mud and possibly a
-compound fracture.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Do you always get your running repairs
-done this way, Tiny?" enquired Dicky of Carmyle.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"As a rule. Connie loves it. Gives her a chance
-of talking prettily to people and smiling upon
-them, and all that. She thinks her smile is her
-strong point."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I should be afraid," said Tilly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Connie is afraid of nothing on earth," said
-Carmyle. "Why, she--" he flushed red and
-broke off, realizing that he had been guilty of the
-solecism of paying a public tribute to his own
-wife. "Here's another car coming," he said.
-"This looks more like what we want."</p>
-<p class="pnext">A long, lean, two-seated apparition, with a
-bonnet like the bow of a battleship, had swung round
-the bend, and was already slowing down at the
-spectacle of beauty in distress. It contained two
-goggled and recumbent figures. Presently it slid
-to a standstill beside the stranded car, and its
-occupants leaped eagerly forth.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Metallurgique, twenty-forty," announced
-Dicky, with technical precision.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Undergraduates--or subalterns," added
-Carmyle contentedly, beginning to fill his pipe.
-"That's all right. You two had better go for a
-little walk, while I stay here and keep an eye on
-the breakdown gang."</p>
-<p class="pnext">He produced from his greatcoat pocket a copy
-of "The Sunday Times," and having spread it
-on the ground at the foot of a convenient tree,
-sat down upon it with every appearance of cheerful
-anticipation, already intent upon the, to him,
-never-palling spectacle of his wife adding further
-scalps to her collection.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky and Tilly, nothing loath, wandered
-farther along the hillside, under strict injunctions
-not to return for twenty minutes. It was the first
-time that they had found themselves alone since
-their arrival on the previous evening, and they
-had long arrears of sweet counsel to make up.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Dicky," said Tilly, suddenly breaking one of
-those long silences that all lovers know, "have
-you ever--loved any one before me?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Most men are asked this question at some time
-in their lives, and few there be that have ever
-answered it without some mental reservation.
-But The Freak merely looked surprised--almost hurt.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Loved any one <em class="italics">before</em>? I should think I had!"
-he replied. "Who has n't?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I have not," said Tilly,</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky was quite prepared for this.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I meant men--not girls," he said. "Girls
-are different. Not that some of them don't fall
-in and out of love rather easily, but they only do
-it as a sort of pleasant emotional exercise. The
-average male lover, however youthful, means
-business all the time. Quite right, too! It is a
-healthy masculine instinct for an Englishman to
-want to found a household of his own just as soon
-as he grows up. But it is this very instinct which
-often sends him after the wrong girl. He is full of
-natural affection and sentiment, and so on, and
-he wants some one to pour it out upon. So he
-picks out the first nice girl he meets, endows her
-in his mind with all the virtues, and tries to marry
-her. Usually it comes to nothing--the girl sees
-to that; for she is gifted by nature with a power
-of selection denied to men--and in any case it
-is hardly likely that he will meet the right girl
-straight off. So he goes on seeking for his mate,
-this child of nature, in a groping, instinctive
-sort of way, until at last he finds his pearl of
-great price. Then he sells all that he has, which
-being interpreted means that he straightway
-forgets all about every other girl he ever knew,
-and loves his Pearl forever and ever. Therefore,
-Tilly, if ever a man comes to you and tells you
-that you are the only girl he ever loved, trust
-him not. It is not likely. It is against nature."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"A girl likes to believe it, all the same, dear,"
-answered Tilly, voicing an age-long truth.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I don't see why she should," argued the
-ingenious Dicky. "It is no compliment to be loved
-by a man who has had no experience. Now <em class="italics">I</em> can
-love and appreciate you properly, because I am
-able to compare you with about"--he counted
-upon his fingers, finally having recourse to a
-supplementary estimate on his waistcoat-buttons--"with
-about fourteen other ladies, of all ages,
-whom I have admired at one time and another;
-and can unhesitatingly place you in Class One,
-Division One, all by your own dear self, so far as
-they are concerned. Is n't that something?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">But Tilly was not quite satisfied.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I should like to feel," she said, instinctively
-giving utterance to that point of view which
-makes a woman's love such an intensely personal
-and jealously exacting thing in comparison with
-a man's, "that you could never have been happy
-with any woman in the world but me. Could
-you, Dicky?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky pondered.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It depends," he said, "on what you mean by
-happy. Our measure of happiness, it seems to me,
-depends entirely on what we <em class="italics">have</em> compared
-with what we want. If I had never met you, I
-could never have missed you; and so I dare say
-I might have settled down happily enough--or
-what I considered happily enough--with some
-other girl. But that is impossible now. I have
-met you, you see. If I were to lose you"--Tilly
-caught her breath sharply--"no one else could
-ever take your place. Love like ours makes all
-substitutes tasteless and colourless, as they say
-in chemical laboratories. You have raised my
-standard of love so high that no one but yourself
-can ever attain to it. So," concluded the
-philosopher, with a smile which brought more
-happiness and reassurance into Tilly's heart than all
-the laborious logic-chopping in the world could
-have done, "though I don't know that I never
-<em class="italics">could</em> have been happy with any one but you, I
-can truly say this, that I never <em class="italics">can</em> be happy
-with any one but you. It's merely a matter of
-the difference between two conditional sentences,
-that's all."</p>
-<p class="pnext">But a girl talking with her lover is not
-interested in points of syntax.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"And will you go on loving me?" asked Tilly,
-putting a small but unerring finger upon the joint
-in Dicky's harness.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky glanced down upon the eager, wistful
-face beside him, and smiled whimsically.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Madam," he said, "your fears are groundless."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"How do you know?" enquired Madam, convinced
-in her heart, but anxious to be reassured.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Because," said Dicky simply, "you love me.
-You have said it. Don't you see how that binds
-me to you? The mere fact of your love for me
-makes mine for you imperishable. The moment
-a man discovers that the woman he loves loves
-him in return, he is hers, body and soul. Previous
-to that something has held him back.
-Pride--reserve--caution--call it what you like--it <em class="italics">has</em>
-held him back. He has not let himself go <em class="italics">utterly</em>.
-After all, we can only give of our best once in this
-life, and usually some instinct inside us makes us
-refuse to surrender that best, however prodigal
-we may have been of the inferior article, until
-we know that we are going to get the best in
-return." Dicky was talking very earnestly now.
-"I have been keeping my best for you all these
-years, little maid, though neither of us knew it.
-Such as it is, you have it. That is why I <em class="italics">know</em>
-I can never go back on you. Besides, what man
-worthy of the name could let a girl down, once
-she had abandoned her reserve--her beautiful
-woman's reserve--and confessed her great
-secret to him? Why, I once nearly married a girl
-whom I could not stand at any price, just because
-the little idiot gave herself away one day when
-we were alone together."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Why should you have married her," asked
-single-minded, feminine Tilly wonderingly, "if
-you did n't love her?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It seemed so mean not to," said Dicky.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Tilly nodded her head gravely.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes," she said, "I think I understand." (As
-a matter of fact, she did not. To her, as to
-most women, such a quixotic piece of folly as
-that to which Dicky had just confessed was
-incomprehensible. But she desired to please her
-lover.) "It was like you to do it, but I hate the
-girl. I expect she was a designing minx. But go
-on, dear. Go on convincing me. I love it. Say
-it over and over again."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Say what?" enquired Dicky, who was not
-aware that he had been saying anything unusual.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Pearls, and things like that," replied Tilly
-shyly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Oh!" said Dicky dubiously, "that takes a bit
-of doing. Wait a minute!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Tilly obediently refrained from speech while
-her beloved dredged his imagination for further
-metaphors. They were a curiously old-fashioned
-couple, these two. That uncanny blend of
-off-hand <em class="italics">camaraderie</em> and jealously guarded
-independence which constitutes a modern engagement
-meant nothing to them. They loved one another
-heart and soul, and were not in the least ashamed
-of saying so.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Presently Dicky took up his parable.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Hearken, O my Daughter," he began
-characteristically, "to the words of the Prophet.
-Behold, I tell you an allegory! Do you know
-what riveting is?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No, dear. Women don't understand machinery,"
-replied Tilly resignedly, in the tones of a
-young mother threatened with an exposition of
-the mechanism of her firstborn's clockwork
-engine.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Well, a rivet," pursued the Prophet, "is a
-metal thing like a small mushroom. It is used
-for binding steel plates together, and requires
-two people to handle it properly. First of all
-the rivet is heated red-hot, and then a grimy
-man (called the holder-on) pops the stalk of the
-mushroom into a hole bored through two over-lapping
-plates and keeps the little fellow in
-position with a sort of gripping-machine, while
-another grimy man (called the riveter) whangs his
-end of the stalk with a sledge-hammer. That
-punches the poor little rivet into the shape of a
-double mushroom, and the two plates are gripped
-together for good and all."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Tilly nodded her head. The allegory was
-beginning to emerge from a cloud of incorrect
-technical detail.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Now it seems to me," continued Dicky,
-"that love is very like that. Men are the
-holders-on and women the riveters. I have occupied the
-position of holder-on several times in my life.
-I fancy most men do: it is their nature to
-experiment. (I have also had the post of riveter thrust
-upon me, but we need not talk about that. One
-tries to forget these things as soon as possible,"
-he added, with a little wriggle.) "But the point
-which I want to bring out is this--a rivet can
-only be used <em class="italics">once</em>. It may be slipped through
-various plates by its holder-on in a happy-go-lucky
-sort of way over and over again; but once it
-meets the hammer fairly, good-bye to its career
-as a gallivanting, peripatetic little rivet! It is
-spread-eagled in a moment, Tilly--fixed,
-secured, and settled for life. And if it is the right
-stuff, sound metal all through, it will never
-wriggle or struggle or endeavour to back upon its
-appointed task of holding together its two steel
-plates. It won't <em class="italics">want</em> to. It will endure so long as
-the two plates endure. Nothing can shake him,
-that little rivet--nothing! Poverty, sickness,
-misunderstanding, outside interference--nothing
-will have any effect. That is the allegory.
-The wanderings of Dicky Mainwaring are over.
-He has flitted about long enough, poking his
-inquisitive little head into places that were not
-intended for him; and he has come to the right
-place at last. One neat straight crack on his
-impressionable little cranium, and the deed is done!
-The Freak's place in life is fixed at last. Mutual
-love has double-ended him, and he is going to
-hold on now for keeps."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky was silent for a moment, and then continued:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No one but you could have dealt that stroke,
-Tilly, or I should have been fixed up long ago.
-I could never have remained engaged to Hilda
-Beverley, for instance. She was a fine girl, but
-she did not happen to be my riveter or I her
-holder-on--that's all. I should have dropped
-out of my place at the first rattle. Lucky little
-rivet! Some poor beggars don't get off so cheap.
-They pop their impulsive little heads into the
-first opening, and never come out again. But
-Providence has been good to me, Freak though
-I am. I have come safe through, to the spot
-where the Only Possible Riveter in the World
-was waiting for me. Here we are together at last,
-settled for life. Launch the ship! <em class="italics">Ting-a-ling</em>!
-Full speed ahead! I have spoken! What are you
-trembling for, little thing?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I was only thinking," replied Miss Welwyn
-shakily, "how awful it would have been if one of
-the other girls had been a better riveter." Then
-she took a deep breath as of resolution.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Dicky," she began, "I want to talk to you
-about something. I think I ought to tell you--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">But as she spoke, the figure of Mr. Carmyle,
-heralded by unnecessary but well-intentioned
-symptoms of what sounded like a deep-seated
-affection of the lungs, appeared among the trees,
-and announced:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Off directly, you two! Connie is just having
-a last farewell with her mechanics. She has
-collected quite a bunch of them by this time."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"They have n't taken long over the job," said
-Dicky, in a slightly injured tone.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Carmyle, who too had once dwelt in Arcady, smiled.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"An hour and ten minutes," he said concisely.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky and Tilly said no more, but meekly
-uprose from the fallen tree upon which they
-had been sitting and accompanied their host to
-the road.</p>
-<p class="pnext">All signs of disaster had disappeared. The
-punctured back tyre stood up once more, fully
-inflated; the tool-box had been repacked and put
-away; and Connie, smiling indulgently, sat
-waiting at the wheel. Far away in the distance could
-be descried two other cars, rapidly receding
-from view. They contained in all five knights of
-the road--grotesquely attired and extremely
-muddy, but very perfect gentle knights after
-their kind--who were now endeavouring, in
-defiance of the laws of the land, to overtake the
-time lost by their recent excursion into the realms
-of romantic adventure; all wishing in their hearts,
-I dare swear, that life's highway contained a few
-more such halts as this.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Connie is going to write a book one day,"
-observed Mr. Carmyle, as they climbed into the
-car, "called 'Hims Who Have Helped Me.' All
-right behind there?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">The car set off once more.</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em">
-</div>
-<p class="center medium pfirst">III</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">The rest of the day passed uneventfully, and
-as it was spent <em class="italics">à quatre</em> need not be described
-at length.</p>
-<p class="pnext">They sped home in the gathering darkness of
-a frosty evening. Connie, who had relinquished
-the wheel to her husband, with instructions to
-get the car home as speedily as possible--she
-had not forgotten her promise to go and hear
-Mr. Rylands's evening sermon--now shared the back
-seat with Tilly; and the two ladies snuggled
-contentedly together under the warm rug, silently
-contemplating the outlines of their squires against
-the wintry sky.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The car swung in at the lodge gates and began
-to run along the crackling gravel of the drive.
-Presently, as they rounded a bend, the lights
-of the house sprang into view.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Tea--and a big fire!" murmured Connie
-contentedly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">To Tilly the sight of the house suggested other
-thoughts. Suddenly she removed her gaze from
-Dicky's broad back and slipped a cold hand into
-Connie's.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Will they try to take him from me?" she
-whispered passionately.</p>
-<p class="pnext">One of Connie Carmyle's many gifts was her
-ability to catch an allusion without tiresome
-explanations. Straightway she turned and looked
-deep into the appealing grey eyes beside her.
-Her own brown ones glowed indomitably.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"If they do, dear," she answered--"fight
-for him."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I will," said Tilly, setting her teeth.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The two girls gripped hands in the darkness.</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center large pfirst" id="an-impossible-family">CHAPTER XVI</p>
-<p class="center medium pnext">AN IMPOSSIBLE FAMILY</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">Amelia Welwyn, grievously overweighted by
-a tray containing her father's breakfast, tacked
-unsteadily across the floor of the drawing-room
-at Russell Square; and, having reached the door
-of her parent's bedroom, proceeded to arouse
-the attention of its occupant by permitting the
-teapot to toboggan heavily into one of the panels.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Don't come in!" said a muffled voice.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Half-past eleven, Daddy," announced Amelia
-cheerily. "Your breakfast!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"In the fender, my child," replied the voice.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Amelia obediently put over her helm, and
-despite a heavy list to starboard induced by a
-sudden shifting of ballast (in the form of the
-hot-water jug) ultimately weathered the sofa and
-deposited the breakfast tray in the fender,
-without throwing overboard anything of greater
-moment than a piece of buttered toast.</p>
-<p class="pnext">By the fireside, in a very large armchair, sat
-a small, alert, wizened, and querulous old lady
-of eighty-one.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Cup of tea, Grannie?" said Amelia.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What's that?" enquired Mrs. Josiah Banks--late
-of Bedfordshire (or Cambridgeshire).</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Will you have a cup of tea?" repeated the
-child in a louder voice.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No," replied her aged relative; "I won't."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Very well, then," said Amelia good-temperedly.
-"Now you two, not so much of it, if you
-please!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">This warning was addressed to her younger
-brother and sister, who, together with herself,
-had joined the Welwyn family at a date
-subsequent to that upon which we first made its
-acquaintance. Amelia was twelve years of age, The
-Caution five, and The Cure some twenty minutes
-younger. At present the latter young lady, in
-the course of a life-and-death struggle for the
-possession of the jettisoned piece of buttered
-toast, had become involved in an embrace with
-her brother, so involved that it seemed as if no
-one unfamiliar with the use of letter-locks could
-ever unravel them. However, the experienced
-Amelia succeeded; and having shaken the skirts
-of The Cure a little lower and pulled the
-knicker-bockers of The Caution a little higher, dumped
-both combatants upon the sofa and divided
-the now hopelessly mangled booty between them.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"And don't let me catch you at it again," she
-added magisterially. "Only Monday morning,
-and your pinnies no more use than nothing!
-Come in!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">At the sight of the figure which appeared in
-the doorway in response to this invitation The
-Caution and The Cure set up a combined howl
-of apprehension, only to be quelled by a dole of
-lump-sugar--hush-money in the most literal
-sense of the word--supplied by the resourceful
-Amelia.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Come in, Mr. Mehta Ram! What can we do
-for you this morning?" she enquired maternally.
-"Never mind those two"--indicating the quaking
-infants on the sofa. "It's their consciences,
-that's all. You see, I always threaten to give
-them to you when they are naughty, and now
-they think that you have really come for them.
-It's all right," she added, turning reassuringly
-to the culprits. "Mr. Ram won't eat you this time."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Benevolent Mr. Mehta Ram beamed upon the
-chubby buccaneers through his gold spectacles.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Believe me, Miss Amelia," he replied, "I
-could cherish no cannibalistic designs upon such
-jolly kids. Is your excellent mother within her
-domicile, or has she gone for a tata?" (Mr. Ram
-prided himself upon his knowledge of
-colloquial English.)</p>
-<p class="pnext">"She is out--shopping. Tell me your trouble,"
-said businesslike Amelia.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I came here," began the Bengalee, "to
-address your mother in her offeecial capacity."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I know," said Amelia swiftly. "It was that
-kipper you had for breakfast. I thought it was
-wearing a worried look while mother was
-cooking it. Well, you shan't be charged for it."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Mehta Ram waved a fat and deprecating hand.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Far be it from me," he replied, "to reflect
-upon the culinary ability of your excellent mother
-Welwyn. I came about a very different pair of
-shoes."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Ram then proceeded, in the curious blend
-of Johnsonian English and street-boy slang
-which constitutes the vocabulary of that
-all-too-precocious linguist, the Babu, with all the
-forensic earnestness and technical verbiage of
-the student who has spent the past six months
-grappling with the intricacies of English Law,
-to bring a weighty indictment against the
-gentleman on the second-floor back.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"In brief," he concluded, "Mr. Pumpherston
-has impounded my sugar-basin."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Broken it, you mean?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No, Miss Amelia. He has confiscated
-it--pinched it, in fact. And"--Mr. Ram swept
-onward to his peroration, his brown face glistening
-with mild indignation--"although I have
-assured him upon my word of honour that there
-will be father and mother of a row if same is not
-returned forthwith, he merely projects the sneer
-of scorn upon my humble petition."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Oh, does he?" exclaimed Miss Amelia, with
-heat. "Mr. Pumpherston has been enquiring for
-trouble for a long while now, and this time he is
-going to get it. Mother"--as Mrs. Welwyn,
-humming a cheerful air, entered the room and
-began to deposit parcels upon the table, much as
-a mountain deposits an avalanche--"here is
-Mr. Ram says Mr. Pumpherston has sneaked
-his sugar-basin and won't give it back."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What's that, Ducky?" enquired Mrs. Welwyn,
-breaking off her little tune. She was a
-large, still handsome, and most unsuitably attired
-matron of about forty-five. Her task (and be it
-added, her joy) in life was the support of a rather
-useless husband, of whom she was inordinately
-proud because he happened to have been born a
-gentleman; and all the energy and resource of
-her honest simple nature had been devoted to the
-single aim of raising her children to what she
-considered his level rather than permit them to
-remain upon her own. In the case of the girls she
-had been singularly successful. Percy was her
-failure, but fortunately she regarded him as her
-greatest triumph. (Providence is very merciful
-to mothers in this respect.) And her love had
-not been utterly vain, for although her taste in
-dress was disastrous and her control of the letter
-"h" uncertain, her family were devoted to her.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You ask Mr. Mehta Ram all about it!"
-replied Amelia darkly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"The aforesaid Pumpherston," resumed Mr. Ram
-at once, "has threatened me with personal
-violence--to wit, a damn good skelp in the
-eyeball. I quote his <em class="italics">ipsissima verba</em>."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Oh, <em class="italics">has</em> he?" replied Mrs. Welwyn, with
-decision. "Well that puts the lid on
-Pumpherston, anyway. He's behind with his rent as it
-is; so the moment our Perce gets home to-night,
-up goes Perce to the second-floor back, and out
-goes my lord Pumpherston! I never could abide
-Scotchies, anyhow."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Martha," enquired a piping but painfully
-distinct voice from the fireside, "what does that
-black 'eathen want in 'ere?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"All right, Mother," replied Mrs. Welwyn.
-She turned soothingly to the Babu. "We'll put
-things straight for you, Mr. Ram," she said
-reassuringly. "You'll get justice in this country,
-never fear! Good-morning!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Mehta Ram, inarticulate with gratitude,
-salaamed himself out of the room, to the
-manifest relief of The Caution and The Cure.
-Mrs. Welwyn followed him onto the landing.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You'll get your sugar-basin back, double-quick!"
-she announced in a loud voice. "That'll
-frighten Pumpherston," she observed grimly,
-re-entering the room and shutting the double doors
-behind her.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It's a pity losing a lodger, Mother," said
-Amelia.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes, dearie, it is," agreed Mrs. Welwyn with
-a sigh. "But it can't be helped. I'll tell you
-what, though. Run after that blackamoor and
-ask him if he has n't got a friend wants a room--a
-nice peaceable creature like himself. The
-Museum Reading-Room is full of them, Father
-says. Tell him to pick us a good one. Take the
-children up with you. Father will be in here for
-his breakfast in a minute."</p>
-<p class="pnext">As the door closed upon Amelia and her
-charges, Mrs. Welwyn crossed the room to her
-surviving parent's side.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Well, Mother," she enquired cheerily, arranging
-the old lady's shawl, "how goes it to-day?
-World a bit wrong?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">The genial Mrs. Banks did not answer immediately.
-Obviously she was meditating a suitable
-repartee. Presently it came.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"When is that good-for-nothing 'usband of
-yours going to get up?" she enquired.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mrs. Welwyn flushed red, but patted her
-cantankerous parent good-humouredly on the shoulder.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"That's all right, Mother," she said. "You
-mind your business and I'll mind mine. Lucius
-sits up very late at night, working,--long after
-you and I have gone to bed,--so he's entitled to
-a good long lay in the morning."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Pack o' nonsense!" observed Mr. Welwyn's
-mother-in-law. "I'd learn 'im!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Good-morning, good people!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Lucius Welwyn strode into the room with all
-the buoyancy and cheerfulness of a successful
-man of forty. As a matter of fact he was a failure
-of fifty-nine, but he still posed to himself with
-fair success as a retired man of letters. His rôle
-was that of the philosophic onlooker, who prefers
-scholarly ease and detachment to the sordid
-strivings of a commercial age. In reality he was
-an idle, shiftless, slightly dissipated, but
-thoroughly charming humbug. He was genuinely
-attached to his wife, and in his more candid
-moments readily and bitterly acknowledged the
-magnitude and completeness of his debt to her.
-He possessed a quick smile and considerable
-charm of manner; and when he was attired, not
-as now in a dressing-gown and slippers, but in the
-garments of ceremony, he still looked what he
-undoubtedly was--a scholar and gentleman.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Good-morning, Father. Your breakfast is
-all ready. Sit down, do, and take it while it's
-hot," Mrs. Welwyn besought him.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Breakfast?" exclaimed Mr. Welwyn with
-infectious heartiness. "Capital!" He seated
-himself before the tray. "A good wife and a good
-breakfast--some men are born lucky!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Some men," remarked an acid voice, "are
-born a deal luckier than what they deserve to be."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Welwyn, who was sitting with his back to
-the oracle, did not turn round.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"That you, Grandma?" he said lightly, pouring
-out his tea. "You are in your usual beatific
-frame of mind, I am glad to note."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"None of your long words with me, Lucius
-Welwyn!" countered his aged relative with
-spirit. "I never 'ad no schooling, but I knows a
-waster when I sees 'un."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Kidneys? Delicious!" remarked Mr. Welwyn,
-lifting the dish-cover. "Martha, you spoil me."</p>
-<p class="pnext">This pronouncement received such hearty
-endorsement from the fireside that Mrs. Welwyn
-crossed the room and laid a firm hand upon her
-sprightly parent's palsied shoulder.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Now then, Mother," she said briskly, "you
-trot across the landing to your own room. I'm
-going to turn this one out presently. I've lit a
-fire for you."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mrs. Banks, who knew full well that behind
-a smiling face her daughter masked a hopelessly
-partisan spirit, rose to her infirm feet and
-departed, grumbling. At the door she paused to
-glare malignantly upon the back of her
-well-connected son-in-law. But that unworthy
-favourite of fortune was helping himself to kidneys.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Seems to me," remarked Mrs. Welwyn
-apologetically, as the door closed with a vicious
-snap, "that Mother got up on the wrong side of
-her bed this morning. You don't mind, do you,
-Father dear?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I? Not in the least," replied Mr. Welwyn
-with much cheerfulness. "I find your worthy
-mother, if anything, a tonic. You are a good
-soul, Martha. Sit down and have a cup of tea
-with me: it must be some time since you
-breakfasted. Take mine."</p>
-<p class="pnext">He pushed his brimming cup towards his wife.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Oh, no, Father!" said Mrs. Welwyn, quite
-distressed. "I'll get one for myself."</p>
-<p class="pnext">She rose, and went to the sideboard.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"On consideration," interposed her husband,
-as if struck by a sudden idea, "I think--yes,
-I think--I should prefer a tumbler. I was
-working late last night; and possibly--I rather
-feel--You know what the doctor said. A man of
-letters--thank you, dearest. You anticipate every
-wish!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">The man of letters helped himself from the
-decanter and siphon which his prescient spouse
-had already laid beside the tray, and attacked
-the kidneys with renewed confidence.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Father," observed Mrs. Welwyn presently,
-nervously sipping her second-hand cup of tea,
-"there's trouble among the lodgers again."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Welwyn gave her a reproving little glance.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I think, dearest," he said gently, "that we
-agreed to call them paying guests."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"That," retorted Mrs. Welwyn with sudden
-indignation, "is just what they're not.
-Pumpherston has paid nothing for three weeks, and
-now he is threatening to murder poor old Mehta Ram."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"In my house?" exclaimed Mr. Welwyn grandly.
-"Impossible! This must stop. Where is Percy?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Percy," replied matter-of-fact Mrs. Welwyn,
-"is where you would expect him to be at this
-hour, you dear old silly--earning his living
-at Cratchett and Raikes's!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Talking of Cratchett and Raikes," said
-Mr. Welwyn, characteristically forgetting all about
-Mr. Pumpherston, "is there a letter this morning
-from Gandy and Cox?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No," said Mrs. Welwyn quickly. "Why?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Nothing, nothing," said Mr. Welwyn, rising
-to look for his cigarette-case. "They have been
-rather pressing over their little account lately.
-In fact, they have had the presumption to
-threaten me with distraint."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"How much was the bill, dear?" enquired
-Mrs. Welwyn, removing the breakfast-tray to the
-sideboard.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"A mere trifle," was the airy reply. "Seven
-pounds odd, I fancy, for a case of champagne
-which I had a year or two ago, when my
-heart was a little--you recollect? The doctor--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes, lovey," said Mrs. Welwyn. "It was an
-anxious time for all of us. But"--her brow
-puckered--"did n't you pay cash for it? I seem
-to remember giving you the money."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Now you mention it," said Mr. Welwyn,
-lighting a cigarette, "I believe you did--ah--hand
-me the money. But I fear I was weak--quixotic,
-if you will. I gave it away." He raised
-a deprecating hand. "No! Please! I beg! Do
-not ask me more, dearest. It was one of those
-private disbursements for which a man with a
-weakness for his fellow-creatures often finds
-himself made liable. A little nameless charity.
-It will appear upon no subscription-list; no
-public acknowledgment will be made. But--I
-have my reward. Do not embarrass me,
-Martha, by alluding to the matter again."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Welwyn, quite affected by the memory of
-his own generosity, took his wife tenderly in his
-arms and kissed her upon the forehead. He then
-blew his nose violently, evidently ashamed of his
-own weakness, and sat down by the fire with the
-newspaper.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mrs. Welwyn knew only too well what the
-little nameless charity had been; but, after all,
-seven pounds odd was a small price to pay for the
-affection of such a husband as hers. She accepted
-the embrace gratefully, sighed, and said:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Very well, dearie. It's a good thing," she
-added inconsequently, "that the house is our
-own and we don't have to bother about rent.
-Rates are bad enough. The butcher has been a
-bit crusty of late; and what with Pumpherston
-not paying for his room and Tilly giving up her
-blouse-designing, I don't believe there's change
-for a sovereign in the house."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Welwyn arose from his armchair, finished
-the refreshment contained in the tumbler (which
-he had placed conveniently upon the mantel-piece),
-and smiled indulgently upon his care-worn helpmeet.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You women, you women!" he said, shaking
-his handsome head in playful reproach. "No
-breadth of view! No sense of proportion!
-Martha, dearest, how often have I begged you
-never to judge a situation by its momentary
-aspect? Cultivate a sense of perspective. Step
-back--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Suiting the action to the word, Mr. Welwyn
-trod heavily upon the fire-irons in the fender.
-These resentfully retaliated, the knob of the
-shovel springing up and striking him a sharp rap
-upon the knuckles, while the tongs nipped him
-viciously in the ankle.</p>
-<p class="pnext">After the clatter had subsided and Mr. Welwyn
-had said what many a less distinguished man
-would have said under similar circumstances, his
-habitual placidity of temper returned, and he
-resumed his lecture where it had been interrupted.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I was about to urge you, Martha," he
-continued, "to cast your mind <em class="italics">forward</em>--forward
-to the time when you will possess a wealthy
-son-in-law."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mrs. Welwyn, who was endeavouring to remove
-from the sofa certain traces of its recent
-occupancy by the glutinous Caution and the adhesive
-Cure, turned suddenly and faced her husband.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Lucius," she said gravely, "I have a feeling
-that there is going to be trouble over this business."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Over what business?" enquired Mr. Welwyn.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Over this son-in-law business," said
-Mrs. Welwyn doggedly. "Mr. Mainwaring--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Richard, dear--Richard!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"All right--Richard! I don't think Richard
-will take very kindly to us when he sees us at
-home, and he'll have to see us here sometime,
-you know. Things look different in Russell
-Square from what they do at the Trocadero.
-And if he sheers off after all--well, it'll break
-our Tilly's heart."</p>
-<p class="pnext">At this moment the door burst open, to admit
-the sisters Welwyn, locked in an affectionate
-embrace and dancing a two-step to a whistled
-accompaniment. Tilly had returned.</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center large pfirst" id="the-word-swank">CHAPTER XVII</p>
-<p class="center medium pnext">THE WORD "SWANK"</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">"That's how it goes, 'Melia," panted Tilly,
-whirling her partner into an armchair. "It's
-quite easy, really; Dicky taught me in the
-billiard-room on Saturday night in ten minutes. Hallo,
-hallo, hallo! Here I am, everybody! Hallo,
-Mother darling!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mrs. Welwyn gently parried the approaching
-embrace.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Here's your father, dear," she remarked,
-with the least tinge of reproof in her voice.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Hallo, Dad! I did n't see you," exclaimed
-Tilly, kissing her male parent excitedly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Welcome home, my daughter!" said Mr. Welwyn.
-"Now kiss your mother."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Tilly had already begun to do so, and an eager
-conversation followed.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Of course, we've heard a bit from Perce,"
-began Mrs. Welwyn at once, drawing the pins
-out of her daughter's hat, "and my word! you
-seem to have got into the very thick of it this
-time, and no mistake!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I should just think so," gabbled Tilly. "Such
-a place, Mother! Billiard-rooms, and garages,
-and butlers, and a fire in your bedroom and a
-hot bottle in your bed, and a maid to put you into
-your clothes, and I don't know what all! And
-I was introduced to a lot of future relations.
-There was Lady Adela. She tried to patronise
-me, but was n't much good. Then Sylvia, the
-daughter. I hate her--she is a cat. And
-Connie Carmyle. She is no relation, but I love her.
-And Father Mainwaring, he is a dear. He says
-he was at Cambridge with you, Dad."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Welwyn put down the newspaper.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What is that?" he enquired in a sharp voice.
-"Cambridge?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes. He does n't remember you at all distinctly,"
-said Tilly, "but says he has an impression
-that you were the most brilliant man of
-your year."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"If that," remarked Mr. Welwyn, in a distinctly
-relieved tone, "is all that he recollects
-about me, I shall be pleased to meet him again."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"How is Dicky, Tilly?" enquired Amelia.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Tilly's merry face softened.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Dicky," she said, half to herself, "is just
-Dicky. He brought me as far as the door, but
-I would n't let him come in."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"And are they all coming to tea?" enquired
-Mrs. Welwyn anxiously.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes--the whole boiling of them, at five this
-afternoon--a state call!" replied Tilly. "By
-the way, Mother, that was a bloomer we made
-about the invitation. I knew at the time we
-talked about it that you ought to have written
-a note and chanced the spelling. Her ladyship
-made that <em class="italics">quite</em> plain to me."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Oh dear!" said Mrs. Welwyn in distress.
-"What did she say?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"She did n't say anything in particular,"
-admitted Tilly, crinkling her brow. "Nothing
-one could take hold of, you know. Just--just--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Sort of snacks," suggested her mother sympathetically.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Tilly nodded her head.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"That's it," she said. "Anyhow, she has sent
-you a written reply. Here it is."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mrs. Welwyn and Amelia breathed hard and
-respectfully at the sight of the large thin grey
-envelope, addressed by Lady Adela's own
-compelling hand.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You read it, dearie," said Mrs. Welwyn.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No; I'll tell you what," exclaimed Tilly.
-"We'll let little 'Melia read it. She does n't get
-much fun."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Oh, Tilly!" cried Amelia gratefully.</p>
-<p class="pnext">She took the letter, opened it with an air, and
-began:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">My deah Mrs. Welwyn--haw!</em>"</p>
-<p class="pnext">There was great merriment at this, for in her
-own family circle Miss Amelia enjoyed a great
-reputation as a wit and mimic. The fact that
-neither she nor any of her audience, save Tilly,
-had ever beheld Lady Adela in the flesh detracted
-not a whit from their enjoyment of her performance.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">It is really too good of you,</em>" continued Amelia,
-in the high-pitched and even tones of a lady of
-exceptional breeding, "<em class="italics">to invite us all--such a
-crowd of us--to come to tea on Monday. As it
-happens, we shall be in town that day, so Mr. Mainwaring
-and I propose to take you at your word, and
-shall be charmed to come with our son and daughter
-at five o'clock.</em>"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"That'll be four cups," murmured Mrs. Welwyn
-abstractedly. "We can get Mehta Ram's.
-Go on, Ducky."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">After our recent experience of your daughter's
-society--</em>"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Here Amelia broke off, to observe that in her
-opinion the last phrase sounded tabbyish.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Never mind! Go on!" urged Mrs. Welwyn.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">--Daughter's society, we are naturally anxious
-to make the acquaintance of her forbears.</em>"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Her four what?" asked Mrs. Welwyn in a
-dazed voice.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Amelia carefully examined the passage, and
-repeated:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It says 'four bears'--written as one word.
-Does that mean you and Dad and me and Perce?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"If her ladyship," began Mrs. Welwyn warmly,
-"is going to start naming names from the Zoo--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Tilly laid a quick hand upon her mother's arm
-and turned in the direction of the fireplace.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Dad," she enquired, "what does 'forbears' mean?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">A chuckling voice from behind "The Daily
-Mail" enlightened her.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"The laugh is on your mother, children," said
-Mrs. Welwyn good-temperedly. "Finish it,
-'Melia."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Amelia did so. "<em class="italics">What weather! Sincerely yours,
-Adela Mainwaring</em>. That's all."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Quite enough, too!" commented Mrs. Welwyn,
-who still had her doubts about the four bears.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Any way," remarked Tilly energetically, "they
-are coming; and we have till five o'clock to get
-ready for them. Hallo, Perce!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">To the company assembled entered Mr. Percy
-Welwyn, immaculate in frock coat, brown boots,
-and a rakish bowler hat.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What oh, Sis!" he exclaimed, kissing Tilly
-affectionately. "Back again from the Moated
-Grange--eh? My dinner ready, Mother?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Wait a minute, Percy dear," said Tilly
-quickly. "I want to talk to you--all of you.
-Sit down, everybody. Father!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"My daughter?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Come and sit here, please!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"A round-table conference?" enquired Mr. Welwyn
-amiably. "Capital!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Tilly upon her own quarter-deck was a very
-different being from the frightened little alien whom
-we saw at Shotley Beauchamp. In two minutes
-the Welwyn family had meekly packed themselves
-round the octagonal table. Tilly took the chair.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Now, then, all of you," she began, with a
-suspicion of a high-strung quaver in her
-voice--"Father, Mother, Percy, and little 'Melia--listen
-to me! You know, no one better, that when
-I went down to Shotley Beauchamp on Saturday
-I meant to act perfectly square to Dicky's
-people--tell them who I was and what I was, and that
-I worked for my living and so on; and generally
-make sure that they did n't take me in on false
-pretences. Is that correct?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes--quite correct," chorused the family.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Well," continued Tilly defiantly--"I have n't
-done it! I have n't said a word! There! I <em class="italics">couldn't</em>!
-I have seen Dicky's people, and their house, and
-their prosperity, and the way they look at things.
-They're a pretty tough proposition, the Mainwarings.
-They are no better born than we are;
-but they are rich, and stupid, and conceited, and
-purse-proud--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Tilly! Tilly!" said Mrs. Welwyn, scandalised
-to hear the gentry so miscalled.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes, they <em class="italics">are</em>, Mother!" cried the girl
-passionately. "You don't know what I have had to
-put up with this week-end, when Dicky was n't
-by. Why--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Dicky," observed Mr. Welwyn dryly, "is
-also a Mainwaring, Tilly."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Dicky," replied Tilly, with feminine contempt
-for the laws of heredity and environment, "may
-be a Mainwaring, but he does n't take after the
-rest of the family. But never mind Dicky for a
-moment. What I want to say is this. In dealing
-with people of this kind--people who regard those
-who have no money as so much dirt beneath their
-feet--there is only one thing that pays; and
-that thing," she concluded with intense
-conviction, "is--swank, swank, swank!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Good old Tilly!" shouted Percy enthusiastically;
-and the rest of the Welwyns, quite carried
-away by their small despot's earnestness, beat
-upon the table with their fists.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"The Mainwarings swanked for my benefit, I
-can tell you," continued Tilly, with cheeks
-glowing hotly. "They laid off to me about their town
-house and their country house and their shooting
-and their hunting and their grand relations; and
-they did their best--especially the daughter--to
-make me feel like a little dressmaker who has
-come in for the day."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I bet you stood up to them, Sis," said the
-admiring Percy.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Tilly smiled in a dreamy, reminiscent fashion.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I did," she said. "I matched them, brag for
-brag. They asked who you were, Mother. I said
-you were a Banks--one of <em class="italics">the</em> Bankses--of Bedfordshire!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Unseemly but sympathetic laughter greeted
-this announcement, and Mrs. Welwyn was made
-the recipient of several congratulatory thumps
-from her son and younger daughter.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I wasn't quite sure whether it was Bedfordshire
-or Cambridgeshire," continued Tilly.
-"Where is Hitchin, anyway?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Hertfordshire," replied Amelia, and every
-one laughed again. They had all things in
-common, the Welwyns, especially their jokes.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Then," Tilly proceeded, "I told them a
-lovely fairy-tale about our old town house. Been
-in the family for generations, and so on."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"So it has," said Mr. Welwyn.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"And I also told them," continued the unfilial
-Tilly, "that Dad was a bit of an antique
-himself, and could n't bear to move. Has his roots
-in the cellar, so to speak. You don't mind, do you,
-dear?" she enquired eagerly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"My child," replied Mr. Welwyn, "I feel
-proud to have figured as one of your assets."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"And finally," concluded Tilly, "as I began to
-warm up to my work a bit, I added a few things,
-looking as sweet as anything all the time--like
-this!" (Here she treated her enraptured audience
-to a very creditable reproduction of Sylvia
-Mainwaring's languid and superior smile.) "I chatted
-about our billiard-room, and our old family
-butler, and our motor, and so on. I am afraid I lost
-my head a bit. I have a notion that I gave them
-to understand that we went yachting in the
-summer!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">There was more laughter, but Mrs. Welwyn
-added anxiously:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You did n't mention anything about Southend,
-did you, dearie?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Not me!" said Tilly; "though I was feeling
-utterly reckless by that time. For two pins I
-would have told them that I had been presented
-at Court!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">She rose to her feet.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"That is all I have to say," she announced.
-"I just mention these little facts to you so that
-when the Mainwarings come to tea this afternoon
-you may know what to talk about. See?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">The other members of the conference, avoiding
-the eager eye of the chairwoman, began to
-regard one another uneasily. Then Percy said:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Tilly, old girl, you've landed us with a bit of
-a shipping order, ain't you?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Tilly nodded. "You are right," she said. "But
-it will only be for an afternoon. We need not
-invite them again."</p>
-<p class="pnext">But Percy, who was an honest youth, although
-he wore a dickey, hesitated.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"How about the gallant Ricardo?" he enquired.
-"What's his position in this glee-party?
-Is he with us or them?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Oh--Dicky?" said Tilly, with less confidence.
-"I have been quite square with him. I
-have told him everything."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Everything?" enquired several people at once.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"A good deal, anyhow," maintained Tilly. "I
-have warned him that I shan't have a penny to
-my name; and that I have had very few of the
-advantages that the ordinary girl gets; and that
-he must take me and my people as he finds us.
-And he says he prefers me that way. In fact"--Tilly's
-thoughts flew back to Sunday's idyll in the
-pine wood--"he has said a good deal more than
-that. And if I want him and he wants me," she
-added eagerly, like one anxious to struggle on to
-less debatable ground, "what does it matter what
-we say or do to his silly old mother and sister?
-I want my Dicky!" Her eyes shone. "He loves
-me and I love him, and that is all there is to be
-said about it. Father, Mother, Percy, 'Melia"--Tilly's
-hands went forth appealingly--"promise
-that you will stand by me and see me through!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Eight impulsive Welwyn hands closed upon Tilly's two.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"We'll see you through, Sis," said Percy
-reassuringly. His eye swept round the board in
-presidential fashion. "Those in favour?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Four hands flew up.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Carried unanimously!" announced Percy;
-while Tilly, reassured, ran round the table
-showering promiscuous embraces upon her relatives.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"There's the front-door bell, 'Melia," said
-Mrs. Welwyn, whose provident instinct never
-deserted her in her most exalted moments. "It
-may be a new lodger. Run down and see."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Amelia obeyed, and the rest of the House of
-Welwyn went into Committee.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I say," remarked the far-seeing Percy; "may
-I enquire who is going to open the front door to
-our guests this afternoon?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">The Committee surveyed one another in
-consternation.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"None of us can't do it, that's quite plain,"
-said Mrs. Welwyn. "They would think we
-had n't got a servant."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"They would be right, first time," confirmed
-Percy.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"The old family butler must do it," said
-Mr. Welwyn with a dry chuckle.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You certainly overreached yourself in the
-matter of the butler, Sis," observed Percy.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"We could get the charwoman, or borrow the
-girl from the Rosenbaums," suggested Mrs. Welwyn.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"But I said a <em class="italics">butler</em>, Mumsie," objected Tilly
-dismally.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Oh, dear, so you did," sighed Mrs. Welwyn.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Tilly pondered.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I know what we can do," she said. "Percy
-must meet them, quite casually, outside in the
-Square, on his way home from the City--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"And let them in with my latch-key--eh?"
-cried Percy. "That's the ticket!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mrs. Welwyn, greatly relieved, smiled upon
-her fertile offspring. Mr. Welwyn coughed
-gently.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"The word 'swank,'" he observed, "is unfamiliar
-to me; but as we have decided to incorporate
-it in our plan of campaign, may I suggest,
-Percy, that you allow your guests to ring the
-front-door bell before overtaking them?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Righto, Dad," said Percy. "But why?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Well," continued Mr. Welwyn diffidently,
-"it has occurred to me that when you have
-ushered the party into the hall, you might call
-down the staircase into the basement, distinctly
-but not ostentatiously, to some one--James, or
-Thomas--you can address him by any name
-you please--that there is no need to come up.
-You see the idea?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Dad," declared Percy, shaking his parent
-affectionately by the hand, "you are a marvel!
-Why, 'Melia, what's the trouble?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Amelia, wide-eyed and frightened, was standing
-in the doorway.</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center large pfirst" id="de-l-audace-et-encore-de-l-audace-et-toujours-de-l-audace">CHAPTER XVIII</p>
-<p class="center medium pnext">DE L'AUDACE, ET ENCORE DE L'AUDACE, ET TOUJOURS DE L'AUDACE!</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">"Daddy," announced Amelia in a stage
-whisper, "there's a man downstairs."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What sort of man?" enquired Mr. Welwyn,
-rising from his seat and edging carelessly in the
-direction of his bedroom door.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"A rough-looking man."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Tell him," said Mr. Welwyn with his hand on
-the door-handle, "that I am not at home. Percy!
-Quick! Keep that fellow out!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">But it was too late. A stranger stood in the
-midst of the House of Welwyn.</p>
-<p class="pnext">He was an elderly, undersized, seedy-looking
-individual, with a blue chin, a red nose, and a
-faded theatrical manner. In his hand he held a
-blue-grey slip of paper. He smiled amiably upon
-the shrinking figure of the master of the house.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Don't trouble to exit on my account, sir," he
-remarked wheezily.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Who are you?" stammered Mr. Welwyn.
-"What is the meaning of this intrusion?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Name of Welwyn?" enquired the stranger briskly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Loosius?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Then," announced the stranger, proffering
-the blue paper, "I must arsk you for your
-hospitality for a short time--a mere matter o' <em class="italics">form</em>,
-of course--until this small account is settled.
-It's Gandy and Cox," he continued chattily:
-"seventeen-seventeen-six; and I 'm put in possession
-until it's settled. In other words, 'ere I am,
-and 'ere I stays until I gets what I came for."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Depositing his frayed headgear upon the
-piano, the emissary of Gandy and Cox was upon
-the point of selecting a chair, when he became
-conscious of a sudden pressure upon the nape of
-his neck.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Outside!" intimated Percy's voice.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Pardon me," replied the visitor without
-moving, "but you touch me at your own risk. I'm
-put in by the law."</p>
-<p class="pnext">There was a stifled cry from Mrs. Welwyn and
-the girls.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"The warrant was signed and 'anded to me
-this morning," continued the representative of
-Justice, "at ten-thirty exact. It is now in the
-'ands of your Pa, young ladies--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Law be damned! Out you go!" shouted
-Percy, whirling the speaker round towards the
-door.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Reflect!" urged the broker's man, gently
-resisting Percy's efforts to eject him by leaning
-back and digging his heels into the carpet.
-"What's the good? If you dot me one and fling
-me out, it merely means fourteen days without
-the option for assaulting a sheriff's officer in the
-execution of his duty, on top of the distraint. If
-you don't believe me," he added, clinging
-affectionately to the leg of the piano, which he was
-passing at the moment, "go and read the warrant."</p>
-<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure" style="width: 59%" id="figure-35">
-<span id="reflect-urged-the-broker-s-man-gently-resisting-percy-s-efforts-to-eject-him"></span><img class="align-center" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=" " src="images/img-258.jpg" />
-<div class="caption figure">
-"REFLECT!" URGED THE BROKER'S MAN, GENTLY RESISTING PERCY'S EFFORTS TO EJECT HIM</div>
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">"He is right, Percy," said Mr. Welwyn.
-"Leave him alone. A sheriff's officer!" he
-muttered brokenly to himself, as his son relinquished
-his endeavour to speed the parting guest. "And
-I was once Fellow and Tutor!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"A broker's man!" wailed Mrs. Welwyn, putting
-an arm round each of her daughters. "And
-I brought you up respectable, dearies!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"A broker's man!" echoed Tilly, "and Lady
-Adela coming here this afternoon!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">This was too much for that unpolished but
-chivalrous youth Percy. Something must be
-done, for Tilly's sake.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Dad," he said desperately, laying a hand on
-his father's shoulder, "ain't you got no money
-nowhere?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Welwyn shook his head helplessly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Mother?" said Percy.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I've got about fifteen shillings," said
-Mrs. Welwyn, brightening up at the prospect of action.
-"How much did that insect"--she indicated
-the minion of the law, now warming himself at
-the fireplace--"say it was?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Seventeen-seventeen-six," replied the insect,
-with the air of one letting off a telling repartee.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"There is n't so much money in all the world!"
-whispered Amelia despairingly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I've got six-and-threepence," said Percy,
-diving into his pockets.</p>
-<p class="pnext">A thought occurred to Mrs. Welwyn.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Father," she enquired of the motionless figure
-on the sofa, "did n't you tell me that Gandy and
-Cox's bill was only a matter of seven pounds?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It was, it was," said Mr. Welwyn, "but--I
-ordered a little more, to keep them quiet."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mrs. Welwyn, admirable woman, wasted no
-time in useless reproaches. Instead, she turned
-once more upon the broker's man.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Now, look here," she said; "I want to ask a
-favour of you. We're expecting company here
-this afternoon. Will you go away, and come
-back in the evening?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"And find the front door bolted!" replied the
-broker's man affably. "No, I don't <em class="italics">think</em>! I
-prefer to remain. I've been in this profession for
-some time now--ever since I abandoned <em class="italics">the</em>
-profession, in fact--and I know a thing or two.
-I'm sorry," he added, "to disoblige a lady, and
-I hope you won't take offence where none was
-intended. Try to look on the bright side of
-things. I might 'ave been a auction."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Percy broke in upon these comfortable words.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Look here," he said; "will you go away for a
-quid?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"There is nothing," replied the visitor, "that I
-should like at this present moment better than
-a quid; but I'm afraid it's my duty to stay.
-I shan't do nobody any 'arm, beyond taking a
-inventory of the furniture. You'll find me quite
-a confidential family friend in a day or two,
-I should n't wonder. Oh, dear, 'ere's another of
-'em coming to 'ave a go!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">He closed his eyes resignedly. Before him stood
-Tilly--small, slim, white to the lips, with all
-her world tottering on the brink of the abyss. In
-her hands she held a cigar-box.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What is your name?" she asked.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Surname," replied the broker's man pedantically,
-"Stillbottle. Christian ditto, Samuel. Net
-result, Samuel Stillbottle."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Have a cigar, Mr. Stillbottle," said Tilly,
-with a ghost of a smile.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Stillbottle helped himself without comment.
-He was a man for whom life held few surprises.
-"Thank you. But I won't go, mind you,"
-was all he said.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Next moment Tilly motioned him to a chair
-beside the table, and set the decanter and a glass
-beside him. "Have something to drink,
-Mr. Stillbottle," she said.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I shall be pleased to do so," replied Mr. Stillbottle
-graciously. "Without prejudice, of course,"
-he added, filling his glass.</p>
-<p class="pnext">By this time the others, astonished and
-interrogative, had gathered round Tilly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Tilly," burst out Percy, "what's the good?
-He won't go--don't you think it!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Young man," corroborated Mr. Stillbottle,
-"you are right. I won't. You 've done it in one."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Tilly took an arm of Percy and another of her
-mother and drew both in the direction of the
-sofa. Her breath came fast.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Listen," she said rapidly--"you too, Dad!
-We <em class="italics">will</em> have our tea-party. We won't throw up
-a single item in the programme. We'll entertain
-the Mainwarings, and we'll show them that we
-know how to do things in proper style, and we'll
-make them all enjoy themselves--even Sylvia--and
-I'll get my Dicky yet!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">She paused, and surveyed her mystified
-audience with shining eyes.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"But, Sis," enquired the dubious Percy, indicating
-the fully occupied Mr. Stillbottle, "what
-about Rockefeller over there?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">The indomitable Tilly laughed.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"He is our old family butler!" she said simply.</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center large pfirst" id="sidelights-on-a-public-character">CHAPTER XIX</p>
-<p class="center medium pnext">SIDELIGHTS ON A PUBLIC CHARACTER</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">Mr. Samuel Stillbottle, notebook in hand,
-with a look of professional severity upon his
-pinched features, slowly circumnavigated the
-drawing-room, making an inventory of the
-furniture. He was followed, step for step, by the
-deeply interested Caution and Cure, who, finding
-the bonds of discipline unusually relaxed, owing
-to the preoccupation of their elders, had seized
-an early opportunity of escaping from the region
-belowstairs in which they were supposed to be
-enjoying their afternoon siesta, in order to pursue
-their acquaintance with the gentleman whom they
-had christened, on sight, "the funny man." They
-had encountered Mr. Stillbottle in the kitchen,
-and had conceived a liking for him at once. As
-appraisers of character their point of view was
-circumscribed and their judgment immature; but
-Mr. Stillbottle's performance at dinner had won their
-unqualified respect and admiration. They had
-accordingly decided to spend the rest of their
-lives in his company, and with that intent in view
-had laboriously scaled the staircase, and were
-now doing their best, by a series of ill-timed
-demonstrations of cordiality, to obstruct their
-new friend in the execution of his duty.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Chesterfield sofa--two castors loose--one-fifteen,"
-murmured Mr. Stillbottle, plying his
-pencil. ("Run away, that's good children.) Me'ogany
-whatnot"--he slipped his hand round
-behind the piece of furniture in question--"with
-deal back, two-ten. Armchair, with off 'ind leg
-cracked, twelve-and-six. (Run away, that's little
-dears. Run away and drown the kitten, or give the
-canary a shampoo; but don't stand there starin'
-at me like a pair of images. I don't like it, so
-don't do it.) Now for the 'arpsichord!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">The harassed Mr. Stillbottle began to examine
-the Welwyns' piano. The Cure turned to The
-Caution.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Funny man!" she reiterated ecstatically.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yesh," assented The Caution, who suffered
-from a slight palatal affection. "Funny
-man! Lesh fight him a little bit!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">As an intimation that the approaching combat
-was to be of the friendliest description, he first
-smiled seraphically upon Mr. Stillbottle (who
-was looking the other way at the moment), and
-then dealt that gentleman a well-directed blow
-in the back of each knee simultaneously with his
-pudgy fists. Mr. Stillbottle, who, owing to his
-ignorance of infantile patois, was entirely
-unprepared for this onslaught, promptly fell head-first
-into the arm-chair with the damaged hind leg,
-reducing its value by a further one-and-ninepence.
-Before he could extricate himself his enraptured
-admirers had conceived and partially put into
-execution the happy design of tickling him to death.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Now, look 'ere," he exclaimed indignantly,
-when he was sufficiently recovered from the
-suddenness of this outrage to resume an upright
-position, "you must drop it! Pop off! I won't 'ave
-it! If I ketch 'old of either of you--if I ketch--all
-right, say no more about it! I believe that
-little girl 'as got the evil eye," he muttered weakly
-to himself. Mr. Stillbottle's nerves were not in
-good order, and The Cure had regarded him with
-unwinking steadfastness for something like five
-minutes. "Go and play over there," he urged,
-almost piteously, "and let me do my job. Now,
-where was I? Ho, yes--the pianner."</p>
-<p class="pnext">He submitted that venerable instrument to a
-further scrutiny.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">Collard and Collard</em>," he observed. ("A very
-appropriate title, too, for this 'ouse!) Date,
-about seventy-four or five, I should say." He
-lifted the lid and struck a few inharmonious
-chords. "Not been tooned since bought. Loud
-pedal broke, and ivories off three keys. Mouse-'ole
-in the back. Say thirty-five bob, or two
-p--Will you <em class="italics">drop</em> it?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Stillbottle made this request from the
-floor, upon which he had suddenly adopted a
-recumbent attitude. The Caution and the Cure,
-having decided to initiate their idol into what
-they had always considered the most consummate
-jest in existence, had placed a heavy footstool
-close behind his heels; and Mr. Stillbottle, stepping
-back a pace in order to view the <em class="italics">tout ensemble</em>
-of the piano, had carried the joke to a successful
-and rapturous conclusion.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Amid appreciative shrieks of merriment from
-the twins, their fermenting playfellow rose
-solemnly to his feet, and was pausing dramatically
-for the double purpose of recovering his breath
-and deciding upon an effective scheme of reprisal,
-when he became aware that the door was open
-and that the master of the house was smilingly
-contemplating the entertainment.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You three appear to be having a romp," said
-Mr. Welwyn genially. "You are evidently a lover
-of children, Mr. Stillbottle!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Fortunately for the delicate ears of The
-Caution and The Cure, Mr. Stillbottle was still
-incapable of utterance. By the time that his two
-admirers had been escorted to the door by their
-progenitor and bidden to return to their own place,
-his power of speech had returned; but
-perceiving that the time for explanation was now
-past, the misjudged romper decided to postpone
-the refutation of the libel until some other
-occasion.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Be seated, Mr. Stillbottle," said Mr. Welwyn
-politely.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Stillbottle selected the sofa, which it will
-be remembered had been marked as high as one
-pound fifteen.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I hope you had a comfortable dinner,"
-continued Mr. Welwyn.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Thank you," replied Mr. Stillbottle briefly--"I 'ad."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Welwyn produced half-a-sovereign.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I make a point of being punctilious over
-money matters," he said, handing the coin to the
-broker's man. "When our little--er--contract
-has been carried to a successful conclusion I shall
-be happy to hand you another."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Stillbottle pocketed the money.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"When may I expect the other?" he enquired.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"If all goes well, about six o'clock this evening."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I see," said Mr. Stillbottle comprehendingly.
-"Carriages at five-forty-five--eh?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Precisely," said Mr. Welwyn. "You have
-hit off the situation to a nicety." He laughed, in
-high spirits. His resilient nature had entirely
-recovered from the humiliation of the morning.
-"Meanwhile"--he produced a sheet of
-note-paper--"I shall be obliged if you will kindly
-commit these notes to memory."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Stillbottle laboriously perused the document.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Lord love a duck!" he observed in a dazed
-voice--"What's this?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"A list of--let us say, your entrances and
-exits this afternoon," explained Mr. Welwyn
-smoothly. "You understand theatrical terms, I
-believe."</p>
-<p class="pnext">He had struck the right chord. Mr. Stillbottle's
-rheumy eye lit up.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Entrances and ex-- oho! Now I begin to
-take you," he said. "We 're agoin' to do drawing-room
-theatricals, are we? Kind o' benefit matinée--eh?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"In a sense, yes," replied Mr. Welwyn. "Are
-you endowed with the dramatic instinct?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Come again!" said Mr. Stillbottle politely.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Could you play a part, do you think?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Could I play a part?" repeated Mr. Stillbottle
-witheringly. "Could a duck swim? Why,
-I was <em class="italics">in</em> the profession, off and on, for a matter
-of fourteen years."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"In what capacity?" asked Mr. Welwyn,
-much interested.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Well, I've bin a good many things," said the
-versatile Stillbottle, putting his feet up on the
-sofa. "I've bin a guest in the palace of the Dook
-of Alsatia; I 've bin the middle bit of the
-sea-serpent--what you might call the prime cut--in
-a ballet of fish; and I was once the second wave on
-the O.P. side of the storm what wrecked Sinbad
-the Sailor."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Welwyn smiled sympathetically. Here was
-another rolling stone.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What made you abandon such a promising
-career, Mr. Stillbottle?" he asked.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The late prime cut of the sea-serpent shook his
-head gloomily.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"The old story," he said--"professional
-jealousy. It started with my bein' cast for the
-front legs of a elephant in a pantomime. That
-was the stage-manager's bit of spite. My usual
-place is the <em class="italics">'ind</em> legs--and that takes a bit of
-doing, I can tell you. (The 'ind legs 'as to wag the
-tail, you see.) If I was to tell you the number of
-'ind legs I'd played, you'd be surprised," he
-continued, plunging into an orgy of irrelevant
-reminiscence. "Why, I recollect in eighty-four,
-at the Old Brit., 'Oxton way--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"But what was the matter with the front legs
-you were speaking of?" enquired Mr. Welwyn
-opportunely.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"The matter," replied Mr. Stillbottle testily,
-"was that they was n't <em class="italics">'ind</em> legs. Not bein' used
-to them, I stepped in wrong way round on the
-first night. We got shoved on the stage somehow,
-but every time we started to move I ran straight
-into the 'ind legs. In the end we broke the
-elephant's back between us. What was more, we
-spoiled the Principal Boy's best song. The
-audience was much too occupied watchin' a elephant
-givin' a imitation of a camel to listen to <em class="italics">'er</em>.
-Besides, she was sittin' on the elephant 'erself at the
-time, and bein' rather stout, 'ad 'er work cut out
-to 'old on. She got me fired next day. Said I
-was n't sober."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"That was a libel, of course," said Mr. Welwyn
-soothingly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"In a manner of speakin'," replied Mr. Stillbottle
-guardedly--"yes." He took up Mr. Welwyn's
-sheet of note-paper again.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What is all this?" he enquired rather querulously.
-"Stage directions, or cues, or what?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Everything," said Mr. Welwyn. "Your
-lines and business, in fact."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Stillbottle nodded comprehendingly, and
-proceeded to read aloud:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">When front-door bell rings, answer door and
-show party up, asking their names and announcing
-them distinctly.</em>"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You can do that?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I'll 'ave a dash for it, anyway. Then: <em class="italics">Bring
-in tea and put it on tea-table</em>."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Stillbottle's unsteady gaze wandered round
-the apartment until it encountered the table.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Tea-table, left centre," he remarked to
-himself. "<em class="italics">Then, at irregular intervals, come in and
-make the following remarks to me</em>:--that's you,
-I suppose?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Welwyn nodded, and Mr. Stillbottle read
-the paper aloud to the end. Then he slowly folded
-it up, and remarked, not altogether unreasonably,
-that he was damned. He added a respectful
-rider in the French tongue, to the effect that
-Mr. Welwyn was <em class="italics">très moutarde</em>.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You understand," said his employer with
-great seriousness--he had crossed the Rubicon
-now, and was determined to risk nothing by
-imperfect rehearsal--"you must use your own
-discretion as to when you come in with your
-messages. About once every ten minutes, I should say."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Don't you think, governor," suggested
-Mr. Stillbottle, almost timidly, "that that last
-stretcher--the one about the shover--is just
-a bit <em class="italics">too</em> thick? Suppose your guests start askin'
-to see the car--what, then? You'll be in the
-cart, you know!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It is all right," said Mr. Welwyn. "I am
-giving the car up, on account of recent taxation,
-and so on. It is in the market now, and may be
-sold at any moment--to-day, perhaps."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I beg pardon," said Mr. Stillbottle humbly.
-"I see I can teach you nothing." Then he added,
-conversationally: "Did you ever know a Captain
-Slingsby, by any chance?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No. Who was he?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Another of the lads, like yourself. I thought
-perhaps you might have been workin' with him
-at some time. I came acrost him once or twice.
-He was a pretty tough nut. His line was to dress
-up as a curate and get himself adopted by rich
-widders; but he was n't the artist you are, sir. He
-'ad n't your education, I should say. Are the
-whole family in this, may I enquire?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Er--yes," replied Mr. Welwyn helplessly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Ah!" Mr. Stillbottle nodded his head. "I
-thought somehow that I had come on a happy
-visit to the Nut Family as soon as I got acquainted
-with your two youngest. Well, it's a pleasure to
-work with people at the top of their profession,
-and I'll see you through."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Welwyn thanked him, almost inaudibly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"But when do you suppose," pursued Mr. Stillbottle,
-transferring his feet from the sofa to the
-floor, "that I shall get out of this Dramatic
-Academy of yours? I 'ave n't come 'ere for a
-<em class="italics">course</em>, you know. Are you going to touch the
-tea-party for the money, or let me distrain on
-the furniture, or what?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I can't tell you at present," said Mr. Welwyn;
-"but I will endeavour to arrange something
-by the evening."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Well, let me know soon, ole sport," said
-Mr. Stillbottle--"that's all. I 'ave my
-arrangements to make, too, remember. My <em class="italics">word</em>, look
-at Mother!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">This interjection was occasioned by the
-entrance of Mrs. Welwyn and Amelia, dressed for
-the party. Mrs. Welwyn was arrayed in a quieter
-and more tasteful fashion than might have been
-expected. Her costume, which had been designed
-and constructed by her eldest daughter, would
-have struck an impartial critic as one which
-made the very best of her age and figure. Amelia
-wore a short white frock, with a blue sash.
-Her long coppery hair flowed to her waist,
-and her hazel eyes were aglow with excitement.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Father dear, what do you think of the way
-Tilly has turned me out?" enquired Mrs. Welwyn gaily.</p>
-<p class="pnext">For the moment her troubles were behind her.
-For once she was suitably--and to the outward
-eye expensively--attired; and the knowledge of
-the fact had induced in her humble but feminine
-soul that degree of minor intoxication which the
-materially-minded male usually achieves, more
-grossly but less extravagantly, by means of a
-pint of champagne.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Slowly gyrating for the delectation of her
-husband, Mrs. Welwyn unexpectedly encountered
-the unsympathetic gaze of Mr. Stillbottle. She
-blushed red, and ceased to revolve.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Oh, that you?" she exclaimed, in an embarrassed voice.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes, it's me--what's left of me," replied
-Mr. Stillbottle lugubriously. "Wearing me out,
-this job is."</p>
-<p class="pnext">He displayed his paper of cues.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mrs. Welwyn regarded him severely.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It's time you dressed yourself," she said. "I
-have put my son's evening clothes out for
-you--in the bathroom," she added pointedly. "You
-had better go and put them on. He is bigger than
-you, but you'll manage."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Stillbottle acquiesced.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Very good," he remarked graciously. "Wardrobe
-mistress must be obeyed, I suppose. I'm
-beginning to warm up to this part. I shall
-surprise you all yet."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I hope not," murmured Mr. Welwyn devoutly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Did you tell him about the name, Father?"
-prompted Amelia.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No, I forgot," said Mr. Welwyn. "Mr. Stillbottle,
-I think this afternoon that we had better
-address you by some other name than your own."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What," enquired Mr. Stillbottle, with a touch
-of hauteur, "is the matter with me own little
-patteronymic?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Just to sustain the character, you know,"
-urged Mr. Welwyn.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Stillbottle sighed, in humorous resignation.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"All right," he said. "Confer the title."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Welwyn turned to his wife.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What do you say to 'Howard,' Mother?" he
-asked.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Nothing with an H in front of it for <em class="italics">me</em>,
-dearie, if you please," announced Mrs. Welwyn
-firmly. "I can see enough rocks of that kind
-ahead of me this afternoon as it is."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Why not 'Russell'?" suggested Amelia.
-"Russell Square, you know."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mrs. Welwyn stroked her resourceful little
-daughter's hair gratefully.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"That will do finely," she said. "You are
-Russell," she announced briefly to Mr. Stillbottle.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The newly christened infant acquiesced
-listlessly, and rose from the sofa.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Now I must tear myself away," he said, "to
-don me trunks and 'ose and get up this patter.
-I'm a slow study. No promptin', I presume?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No," said Mr. Welwyn.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Gaggin' permitted?" enquired Mr. Stillbottle,
-without much hope.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Certainly not."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Very good. So long, everybody. <em class="italics">Exit Russell</em>,
-door in back."</p>
-<p class="pnext">With a theatrical gesture, the ci-devant
-impersonator of elephants' hind legs disappeared.
-The Welwyns regarded one another apprehensively.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Oh, dear!" said Mrs. Welwyn.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"We must make the best of him, Martha,"
-said her husband. "After all, we did not invite
-him here of our own accord: he <em class="italics">has</em> to be present
-in the house in some capacity. Still, I admit he is
-the weak spot in our enterprise--the heel of
-Achilles, so to speak."</p>
-<p class="pnext">But Mr. Welwyn was wrong.</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center large pfirst" id="rehearsed-effects">CHAPTER XX</p>
-<p class="center medium pnext">REHEARSED EFFECTS</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">"<em class="italics">H</em>as <em class="italics">H</em>erbert," enquired Mrs. Welwyn,
-taking a deep breath, "<em class="italics">h</em>urt <em class="italics">H</em>orace?" She choked.
-"Oh, dear!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Very good, Mumsie," said Amelia encouragingly.
-"Go on."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"But it puts me out of breath so, child, as soon
-as I begin to think of it," complained her pupil.
-"I shall never learn."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes, you will," said Amelia confidently.
-"H's are just a matter of proper breathing,
-Daddy says. Now try the next sentence, and
-remember there's a trap in it!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Miss Amelia seated herself upon the floor,
-clasping her long black legs with her arms and resting
-her chin on her knees.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Now," she said, with a little nod.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Conscientious Mrs. Welwyn, having audibly
-recharged her lungs, now began to emit another
-heavily aspirated sentence.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">H</em>ildebrand," she announced, "<em class="italics">h</em>as <em class="italics">h</em>it <em class="italics">H</em>enry
-<em class="italics">h</em>ard <em class="italics">h</em>intentionally. There, that's done it!" She
-sighed despairingly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"And I warned you, Mother," said Amelia
-reproachfully. "That last word is put in on
-purpose to trip you up."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes, I know," replied her mother with an
-apologetic smile. "And it always does. You
-can't teach an old dog new tricks, ducky, and
-that's a fact. I have always been common in my
-talk, and common in my talk I always will be. All
-I can promise is that I will do my best this
-afternoon; and I hope, for all of your sakes, that your
-old mother won't go and disgrace you."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Little 'Melia's reply to this humble aspiration
-was an embrace which entirely disorganised the
-hooks and eyes at the back of Martha Welwyn's
-festal garment. While the disaster was being
-repaired, Tilly entered briskly. In her hand she
-held a printed card, bearing the legend</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em">
-</div>
-<p class="center large pfirst">APARTMENTS</p>
-<div class="left medium vspace" style="height: 1em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">in staring letters. This she dropped behind the
-piano.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Hook me up behind, 'Melia, will you," she
-said, "when you have finished Mother? No, I'll
-do Mother and you do me. Your hair-ribbon is
-wrong. Let me get hold of it."</p>
-<p class="pnext">The Welwyns, <em class="italics">mère et filles</em>, formed themselves
-into a voluble equilateral triangle.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I found that 'Apartments' card lying on the
-hall table," said Tilly with a shiver. "I suppose
-Russell took it out of the drawer when he was
-making his inventory. A nice thing if they had
-all marched in through the front door at that
-very moment! Still," she added cheerily, "there's
-no harm done. Am I all right, do you think?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Tilly, you look lovely," said Amelia.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"One thing about being a dress-designer," admitted
-Tilly, kissing her little sister, "is that you
-can design yourself a dress. 'Melia, you look a
-little duck. Mother, your hair is n't quite right. Let
-me pull it out a bit here."</p>
-<p class="pnext">She tweaked the coiffure of her much-enduring
-parent into position, whistling blithely. Her
-cheeks were pink, her eyes sparkled. She was
-determined to look her best for Dicky that day.
-And to do her justice, she did.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Tilly dear," remarked Mrs. Welwyn dubiously,
-"can we all get round that table for tea?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Gracious!" cried Tilly, observing the heavily
-loaded table for the first time. "You are never
-going to plant everybody round <em class="italics">that</em>, like
-nursery tea?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Ain't we?" said Mrs. Welwyn blankly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Certainly not," replied Tilly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Swiftly she sketched out the fundamentals of
-that meal which combines the maximum of discomfort
-with the minimum of nourishment--afternoon-tea
-as consumed by high society in the
-present period--and in three minutes the great
-round table, tipped onto its edge, was trundled
-rapidly into Mr. Welwyn's bedroom, to the
-surprise and discomfort of Mr. Welwyn, who was
-dressing at the time.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Now a small tea-table," commanded Tilly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"There is n't such a thing in the house, love,"
-panted her overheated parent.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes, there is," said little 'Melia, the
-ever-ready. "In Mr. Pumpherston's room. He keeps
-a text framed in fir-cones on it."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You're right, dear; I had forgotten,"
-admitted Mrs. Welwyn. "Well, Pumpherston is
-going to get bounced this evening anyway, so
-we might as well have his table now as then.
-Come with me and get it. He's out."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Left alone, Tilly flitted about the room,
-reviving its faded glories as far as she was able by
-deft touches here and there; straightening
-curtains, patting cushions, and confiding to various
-unresponsive articles of upholstery the information
-that her Love was like a Red, Red Rose.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Tea-table here, I think," she said, pausing.
-"Probably Lady Adela would have hers nearer
-the fire; but then Lady Adela's drawing-room
-carpet has not got a hole in it. Come in!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">The door opened, and an eerie figure appeared.
-It was Mr. Russell--<em class="italics">né</em> Stillbottle--in his
-shirt-sleeves, wearing an insecurely fastened
-dickey. His black trousers, being much too long
-for him, presented a corrugated appearance. In
-his hand he carried a great bunch of pink carnations.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"These 'ave just been 'anded in, Miss," he
-announced. "No name, and"--with a slight
-note of congratulation in his voice--"nothing
-to pay."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Tilly thanked him, and, taking the flowers,
-buried her face in the heart of the bunch. When
-she withdrew it she found that Mr. Stillbottle
-was still present.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"If you could find him, Miss," he said deferentially,
-"I should like to 'ave a word with the Chief Nut."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Who?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"The old feller that's running this fake."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Oh, my father?" said Tilly, biting her lip.
-"He is dressing, I think." She tucked three or
-four carnations into her belt and began to
-arrange the others in a bowl.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Then, perhaps," said Mr. Russell, "you could
-advise me on a purely personal matter."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Certainly," replied Tilly absently. Dicky's
-gift still claimed all her attention.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It's these trousers, Miss," explained Russell
-confidentially. "They are the pair supplied by
-the management; and between ourselves I don't
-think they suit me. Brother Perce may 'ave a
-faithful 'eart, but 'e 's <em class="italics">built</em> all wrong. These
-trousers are six or eight inches too long in the leg. I feel
-as if I was wearin' a pair of concertinas. Now--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">This sartorial jeremiad was cut short by the
-entrance of Mrs. Welwyn, who, travelling
-full-speed astern and towing Amelia and the tea-table
-of Pumpherston in her wake, butted the double
-doors open, and backed heavily into the orator.
-Mr. Russell, looking deeply injured, retired to
-complete his toilet.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"That's better," said Tilly, when the small
-tea-table had been placed over the hole in the
-carpet, and the tea-tray had been placed over a
-hole in the tablecloth. "Is everything ready?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes," said Amelia.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What about the babies?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I have washed and dressed them," said
-Mrs. Welwyn. "Melia will fetch them down for a
-few minutes about a quarter-to-six."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"That's all right," said Tilly approvingly.
-"They are darlings, both of them, and I should
-like to have them down all the time, but it's too
-risky. What time is it now?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Ten minutes to five," said Amelia.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Mercy!" exclaimed Mrs. Welwyn, greatly
-agitated at the proximity of her hour. "Where
-shall I sit, Tilly dear?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"On the sofa, Mumsie; and don't get hot, because
-you are looking very nice," said Tilly soothingly.
-"Hallo, Dad--just in time!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Welwyn in a frock-coat, looking quite the
-scholar and gentleman, had entered from his
-bedroom.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I perceive the feast is spread," he observed
-jauntily. "Mistress of Ceremonies, how do we
-dispose ourselves?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Mother here," replied meticulous Tilly--"on
-the sofa with the 'Morning Post.' I picked
-it up off the floor of the railway-carriage this
-morning. Don't read it; just be glancing at it
-carelessly. Father, sit by the fire with a book.
-Here's one. 'Melia, you had better be on a
-footstool at Mother's feet, with your head against
-her knee. Don't fall over her when you get up,
-Mother. And don't come forward more than
-three steps to meet Lady Adela: you 're as good
-as she is, remember. Say it's very sweet of her to
-come all this way. And if you call her 'your
-Ladyship,' I shall walk straight across the room
-and kill you--see?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes, lovey," sighed the flustered Mrs. Welwyn.
-"What <em class="italics">do</em> I call her?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Lady Adela--not Lady Mainwaring, mind!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It sounds so familiar, starting Christian
-names right off," objected Mrs. Welwyn feebly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Never mind; you've got to do it," said Tilly
-ruthlessly. "I shall be here by the tea-table, and
-if any of you get on to thin ice I shall drop a
-teaspoon. Do you all understand?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes, Tilly," replied a respectful chorus.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Very well, then," replied the Mistress of
-Ceremonies. "Now let me see you all in your
-places. Attention!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Tilly clapped her hands, and her well-drilled
-retinue froze into their appointed attitudes.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Don't hold the 'Morning Post' as if you were
-trying to lick butter off it, Mother," said Tilly.
-"'Melia, pull up your stocking. Dad, you are
-splendid, but you are laughing. This is a serious
-business, remember. Now, all keep like that for
-two minutes, to see if--Mercy on us, here they are!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">But she was wrong.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The door creaked, and swung slowly open, to
-admit the attenuated figure of Grandma Banks,
-who in the most unconcerned fashion possible
-hobbled across the room to the fireplace and
-seated herself in the vacant armchair opposite
-to her son-in-law, with every appearance of
-having come to anchor for the evening.</p>
-<div class="center transition">
-<p class="pfirst">――――</p>
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">Grandma's descendants gathered into a
-panic-stricken knot in the corner.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"She <em class="italics">can't</em> stay!" whispered Tilly frantically.
-"Mother, get her to bed."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"My dearie," responded Mrs. Welwyn helplessly,
-"you know what she is when she smells a rat!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Try, anyhow!" urged Tilly, glancing feverishly
-at the clock.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mrs. Welwyn approached her aged parent much
-as a small boy approaches a reputed wasp's nest.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Mother," she said nervously.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Eh?" replied Mrs. Banks, looking up
-sharply and scrutinising her daughter over her
-glasses. "What 'ave you got them things on for?
-Goin' out somewhere? At your age, too!" she
-added irrelevantly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes--no--yes," stammered Martha Welwyn,
-who tampered with the truth with difficulty.
-"I've arranged for you to have your tea
-in your own room this afternoon, Mother."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Why?" enquired Mrs. Banks at once.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You are not looking very well," interposed
-Mr. Welwyn rashly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I'm eighty-one," retorted the old lady with
-great spirit, "and as 'earty as ever I was,
-Welwyn. I shall 'ave my tea in 'ere."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"We rather want this room this afternoon,
-dear," resumed Mrs. Welwyn gallantly. "Father
-has some people coming in on business."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Is Father going to get a job of work to do?"
-riposted Grandma Banks, in tones of gratified
-surprise.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Welwyn blew his nose sheepishly, and the
-clock struck five. Tilly came forward and knelt
-by her grandmother's chair.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It is very important for all of us, Granny,"
-she pleaded, "that Father should have an
-undisturbed talk with these people; so we thought we
-would keep this room clear this afternoon. You
-don't want to be troubled with strangers, do you?
-Nasty, loud-voiced people."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I likes people with loud voices," replied the
-old lady cantankerously. "I can 'ear what they
-says."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"But they're only going to talk business,"
-urged Tilly. "Come along, there's a dear old
-Grandma. You'll be much more comfortable in
-your own room. There's a nice fire there, and
-I'll bring you in a lovely tea. Take my arm."</p>
-<p class="pnext">By this time Mrs. Banks had been raised to
-her feet, and now found herself being gently
-but inexorably propelled in the direction of the
-door.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You don't <em class="italics">want</em> me, that's the truth," she
-observed, getting reluctantly under way. "You 're
-ashamed of your old Grandma, that's what it is."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Nonsense, darling," said Tilly. "You know
-how fond we all are of you. But you would only
-be tired out by a lot of people."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No," persisted the old lady, "you don't want me."</p>
-<p class="pnext">She hobbled through the door on her
-grand-daughter's arm, still speaking the truth.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Poor old Granny!" Tilly's voice said very
-gently. "I promise to make it all up to you some
-day."</p>
-<p class="pnext">The bedroom door on the other side of the
-landing was heard to open and shut, and there
-was momentary silence. Then the front-door bell
-emitted a majestic peal. The sound thrilled the
-Welwyns like a tocsin. Tilly darted in.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Get to your places," she whispered.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The troupe hastily resumed their proper poses,
-and a tense silence ensued.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mrs. Welwyn took a deep breath.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">H</em>as <em class="italics">H</em>orace," she enquired in a hoarse and
-hysterical whisper, "<em class="italics">h</em>urt <em class="italics">H</em>erbert? No, but
-<em class="italics">H</em>ildebrand--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"They are in the hall," hissed Amelia.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"They are coming up," said Mr. Welwyn
-calmly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Suddenly Tilly's fortitude deserted her.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I can't bear it!" she wailed, and bolted
-incontinently through the inner door into her
-father's room.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Tilly darling, don't leave us!" was the
-agonised cry of Mrs. Welwyn and Amelia....</p>
-<p class="pnext">Next moment Mr. Welwyn, finding himself
-alone in his own drawing-room, rose to his feet
-and, as rapidly as was compatible with the
-dignity of a scholar and a gentleman, joined the
-panic-stricken mob in his bedroom.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Almost simultaneously the door onto the
-landing was thrown open, and Mr. Stillbottle's
-wheezy voice announced:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Lord Mainwaring, Lady Mainwaring, and
-party!" Then in a surprised and informal tone:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Hallo! Stage clear?"</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center large pfirst" id="unrehearsed">CHAPTER XXI</p>
-<p class="center medium pnext">UNREHEARSED</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">Mr. Mainwaring, Lady Adela, and party--the
-latter comprised Sylvia, Connie Carmyle, and
-Dicky--came to a standstill in the middle of
-the vast and empty drawing-room and looked
-enquiringly about them. Lady Adela, upon whom
-the labour of climbing the staircase had told
-heavily, first deleted from her features the stately
-smile which she had mechanically assumed before
-crossing the threshold, and then began to sit
-down upon the piece of furniture which
-Mr. Stillbottle had recently valued at
-twelve-and-six-pence.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I would n't set in that chair, mum, not if I
-was you," remarked a husky voice in her ear.
-"The off 'hid leg is a trifle dicky."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Lady Adela, suspended in mid-air like Mahomet's
-coffin, started violently upwards into a
-vertical position, and then, having, on the advice of
-the officious Mr. Stillbottle, selected the sofa,
-took in the drawing-room with one comprehensive
-sweep of her lorgnette.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Stillbottle withdrew, doubtless to con his lines.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"H'm," remarked Lady Adela. "This is
-evidently not one of the rooms that has just been
-in the hands of the painters and decorators."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Dick," enquired Sylvia, who had been superciliously
-inspecting the mahogany whatnot with
-the deal back, "who was that furtive Oriental
-person who slipped past us on the staircase? Not
-another future relative-in-law, I trust."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"The stout nigger gentleman, you mean?" said
-Dicky, with unimpaired good humour. "I fancy
-he must have been calling on Mr. Welwyn about
-his studies. I have a notion that London
-University is somewhere about here."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What a jolly old-fashioned house this is," said
-Connie from the window-seat. "How nice and
-shady this big square must be in summer."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It is a fairly shady locality all the year round,
-I fancy," observed Sylvia sweetly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Kind-hearted Mr. Mainwaring coughed, and
-looked unhappily towards his son. But Dicky
-did not appear to have heard. He had just
-discovered his carnations.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Lady Adela took up the tale.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"There was a small but ferocious-looking
-creature with red whiskers," she announced,
-"hanging over the banisters on the top floor.
-Who would he be, now?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Don't ask me, Mum," said Dicky. "I've
-never been in the house before, remember, except
-downstairs. Probably a paper-hanger, or--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">He was interrupted by the entrance of a stately
-procession headed by Mrs. Welwyn, the rest
-following in single file.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Tilly effected the necessary introductions
-prettily and with perfect composure; and presently
-the company assorted itself into what we will
-call Tableau Number One. Mr. Welwyn led Lady
-Adela back to the seat which she had vacated.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Most of the furniture in this mansion of ours
-is Early Victorian," he announced with a ready
-laugh; "but I think you will find this sofa
-comfortably Edwardian, Lady Adela."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Lady Adela, favourably impressed with her
-host's appearance and manner, smiled graciously
-and once more cautiously lowered herself onto
-the sofa. Here, in obedience to an almost
-imperceptible sign from her husband, the quaking
-Mrs. Welwyn joined her, and announced, in a voice
-which she entirely failed to recognise as her own,
-that it was very sweet of them all to come so far.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Amelia ran impulsively to Dicky and kissed
-him. Mrs. Carmyle, Sylvia, and Tilly fell into a
-chattering group round the tea-table. Mr. Welwyn
-and Mr. Mainwaring shook hands warmly
-and exchanged greetings. The tea-party was
-launched.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"How many years is it, Welwyn?" asked Mr. Mainwaring.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Let us not rake up the past, my dear
-Mainwaring," said Mr. Welwyn. "More years than
-we care to count--eh? We'll leave it at that.
-But I am delighted to meet you again. I wonder
-how the old College prospers. Foster was your
-tutor, was n't he?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes," replied Mr. Mainwaring, pleasantly
-flattered to find that a man who had been two
-years senior to him should remember so much
-about him.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Mine, too," mentioned Mr. Welwyn, as if
-determined to put his guest at his ease.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"He's a bishop now, I hear," said Mr. Mainwaring.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">Eheu, fugaces</em>!" sighed Mr. Welwyn. "Come
-and sit by the fire."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I think we had better have tea, Tilly," said
-Mrs. Welwyn, as per programme.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The Welwyn family, recognising a cue, began
-to bestir themselves for Tableau Number Two.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I seem to hear it coming up, Mother," replied
-Tilly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">She was right. Portentous rattlings and
-puffings were now audible without. Next moment
-the doors were bumped open and Mr. Stillbottle
-appeared, carrying the tea-pot on a tray.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Apparently something was on his mind. His
-appearance was that of a righteous man deeply
-wronged. His was the demeanour of a British
-artisan compelled by forces which he cannot
-control to perform a task not included in his
-contract.</p>
-<p class="pnext">A moment later the situation explained itself.
-Behind Mr. Stillbottle, clinging affectionately to
-his flowing coat-tails, marched The Caution and
-The Cure. They were dressed in white, and
-looked exactly alike except that The Caution
-wore abbreviated white knickerbockers and The
-Cure a little white skirt. Their socks were white,
-their sashes and chubby legs were a radiant pink,
-and the angelic countenance of each was wreathed
-in smiles.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The procession drew up at the tea-table, where
-its leader proceeded to deposit the tea-pot. For a
-moment there was a pause in the conversation,
-while the hearts of the Welwyns stood still. The
-Twins, uncontrolled, sometimes erred on the
-side of originality.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"He's the Queen," explained The Cure, indicating
-the flinching figure of Mr. Stillbottle.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yesh; and we're holdin' up of his train,"
-added The Caution.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Next moment Connie Carmyle had captured them both.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You darlings!" she cried, and carried them
-off to the window-seat. The situation was saved.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Little pets!" observed Lady Adela, smiling.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Even Sylvia forgot to pose for a moment. Tea
-was served amid a hum of cheerful conversation.
-The children had evoked the maternal instinct,
-and all was well.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Only Mr. Stillbottle remained cold.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You oughter 'ave kep' them locked up somewhere,"
-he announced severely to Tilly; and left
-the room.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I don't see your son here, Mrs. Welwyn,"
-said Lady Adela. "We had the pleasure of his
-company for a few minutes on Saturday."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"He will be here any minute, your--Lady
-Adela," replied Mrs. Welwyn with a jerk. "He
-is usually kept in the City till close on five, poor
-boy."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"That aged retainer of yours seems to be a bit
-of an autocrat, Tilly," said Dicky, taking
-Mrs. Carmyle's chair at the tea-table.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes," agreed Tilly, feeling rather miserable
-at having to talk to Dicky in this strain; "but
-you know what old servants are. In their eyes
-we never grow up."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Has he been with you for long, then?"
-enquired Sylvia, with a deep appearance of interest.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"How long has Russell been with us, Mother?"
-said Tilly, noting that Mrs. Welwyn's
-conversation with Lady Adela was beginning to flag.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I can't remember, dear. It seems a long time,
-anyhow," replied Mrs. Welwyn with sincerity.
-"Ah, here is Percy. Come in, my boy. Just in
-time to hand round the cakes!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You can trust little Perce," observed that
-engaging youth, entirely at his ease, "to be on
-the spot at the right moment. How de do, Lady
-Adela? I hope this finds you as it leaves me."</p>
-<p class="pnext">He shook the very limp hand of Lady Adela,
-and having bestowed an ingratiating smile upon
-Sylvia, proceeded amid a slowly intensifying
-silence to offer a humorous greeting to Mr. Mainwaring.
-Finally he turned to Dicky, and slapped
-him boisterously upon the shoulder.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Well, my brave Ricardo," he enquired, "how goes it?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Percy, dear old thing," responded Dicky
-promptly, with his most vacant laugh, "how
-splendid to see you again! Come and tell me all
-about your club run on Sunday."</p>
-<p class="pnext">He drew the flamboyant cyclist to a place of
-safety, and Tilly breathed again.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"There is sugar and cream in this cup, Lady
-Adela," said Amelia, with a neat bob-curtsey.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Thank you, little girl," said Lady Adela,
-taking the cup and smiling indulgently. ("Like a
-Duchess out slumming," Amelia told Tilly
-afterwards.) "What pretty manners!" she
-continued, turning to Mrs. Welwyn. "Where do
-you send her to school? I used to find it so
-difficult--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"She has left school," replied Mrs. Welwyn.
-"I suppose we ought to send her somewhere to get
-finished later on, but there--we can't do
-without her, and that's the truth. Can we, dear?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Martha Welwyn put an arm round her little
-daughter. She was talking with greater freedom
-and confidence now, with her aspirates under
-perfect control.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I can quite understand <em class="italics">that</em>," said Lady Adela
-affably. "I dare say you find her indispensable."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I should think so," replied Mrs. Welwyn,
-lowering her guard. "What with all the
-staircases, and a basement kitchen, and separate
-meals--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Tilly dropped a teaspoon with a clatter on to
-the tray.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I'm so sorry, Sylvia," she said. "Did I make
-you jump?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No," responded Sylvia absently. "I was
-looking at your butler. He seems to have
-something on his mind."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Stillbottle, who had entered the room two
-minutes previously, and had been awaiting an
-opportunity of gaining the ear of the company,
-took advantage of the partial silence which now
-ensued.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"A person has called, sir," he announced to
-Mr. Welwyn, "for to iron the billiard table."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Welwyn broke off his conversation with
-Mr. Mainwaring.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Thank you," he said in an undertone. "Let
-him do so by all means."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes, sir," replied Mr. Stillbottle, turning to go.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Tell him," added Percy, highly pleased with
-the manner in which the little comedy was unfolding
-itself, "to see if any of the cues want tips."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Very good," said Mr. Stillbottle, in a voice
-which plainly asked why Percy should "gag,"
-when he might not.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The door closed once more, and another hurdle
-was negotiated. The Welwyns heaved little sighs
-of relief: Russell's was an unnerving presence.
-But Tilly glanced at the honest, laughing face
-of the man who loved her, and felt suddenly
-ashamed.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Quite a character, that old fellow," said
-Mr. Welwyn breezily. "Incorrigibly idle; painfully
-outspoken; a domestic tyrant of the most oppressive
-type; but honest as the day. I must get some
-one to put him in a book. Lady Adela, you have
-nothing to eat."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Welwyn deftly changed places with his
-wife, who gratefully engaged in a conversation
-with Mr. Mainwaring; and the rest of the
-company performed one of those complicated
-evolutions which children call a "general post," and
-which affords persons of mature years but
-intellectual poverty the inestimable boon of being
-able to employ the same topics of conversation
-several times over. Tableau Number Three was
-now set.</p>
-<p class="pnext">For a moment Dicky and Tilly found themselves
-together.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Tea, old man?" asked Tilly, offering a cup.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Thanks, little thing," replied Dicky, touching
-her hand under the saucer.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Did you send these?" Tilly looked down at
-her pink carnations.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky nodded, and his gaze became suddenly
-ecstatic.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Tilly," he said in tones of exultant pride, "you
-are looking perfectly beautiful."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"This is a strictly business meeting," smiled
-Tilly; but her heart bumped foolishly. For a
-moment nothing seemed to matter save the
-knowledge that Dicky loved her and she loved Dicky.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The next event of any importance was the
-discovery that Mrs. Carmyle, engrossed with the
-twins, had had no tea. There were cries of
-contrition from the Welwyn family, and Connie was
-hurried to the tea-table, followed by the
-desolating howls of her youthful admirers--howls which
-increased to yells when Mrs. Welwyn announced
-that it was time for them to return whence they
-came. However, they were pacified by an offer
-from their new friend to accompany them part of
-the way; and after submitting with a sweetness
-as adorable as it was unexpected to an embrace
-from Lady Adela, they left the room clinging to
-Connie's skirts, having contributed to the
-programme the one unassailably successful item of
-the whole afternoon.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Amelia went with them, but returned almost
-immediately.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Mrs. Carmyle is telling them a story in the
-dining-room," she said to her mother. "They
-are as good as gold with her."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Dear Constance! She is a fairy godmother to
-all children," remarked Lady Adela, who was
-feeling quite remarkably beatific.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes--children of all ages," corroborated
-Dicky, catching Tilly's eye.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I declare," cried Mrs. Welwyn suddenly, as
-this pleasant episode terminated, "I had almost
-forgotten. Tilly dear, you had better take your
-grandmother's tea in to her."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"All right, Mother," assented Tilly blithely.
-The party was shaping into a success.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I am so sorry, Lady Adela," said Mr. Welwyn,
-picking up the new topic with the readiness
-of a practised conversationalist, "that you will
-not meet my wife's mother this afternoon. She
-spends a good deal of her time with us. A dear
-old lady--quite of the Early Victorian school."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"She is not unwell, I hope," said Lady Adela
-politely.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"A slight chill--a mere nothing," Mr. Welwyn
-assured her; "but at that age one has to be
-careful. The doctor is keeping her in bed to-day.
-I regret it, because I think you would have
-enjoyed a conversation with her. She is a mistress
-of the rounded phrase and polished diction of
-two generations ago. So unlike the staccato stuff
-that passes for conversation nowadays."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Too true, too true!" agreed Lady Adela,
-eagerly mounting one of her pet hobby-horses.
-"She sounds most stimulating. It is unfashionable
-to-day to be elderly. My daughter informs
-me that no one--not even a grandmother--should
-have any recollection of anything that
-happened previous to the period when people
-wore bustles. All time before that she sums up
-as the chignon age. No, there is no sense of
-perspective nowadays. We are all for the present."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Admirably put, dear Lady Adela," cooed
-Mr. Welwyn. "I remember--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">What Mr. Welwyn remembered will never be
-known, for at that moment the door opened,
-slowly but inexorably, and Grandma Banks
-appeared. She advanced into the room with a few
-uncertain and tottering steps, peered round her,
-and nodded her head with great vigour.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I thought so," she observed triumphantly.
-"Company! No wonder I were sent to bed."</p>
-<p class="pnext">There was a paralysed silence. Mr. Welwyn
-was the first to recover his presence of mind. He
-advanced upon his infirm but irrepressible
-relative shaking a playful finger.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"This is very, very naughty," he announced
-reproachfully. "What will the doctor say?"</p>
-<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure" style="width: 59%" id="figure-36">
-<span id="this-is-very-naughty-he-announced-reproachfully"></span><img class="align-center" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=" " src="images/img-302.jpg" />
-<div class="caption figure">
-"THIS IS VERY NAUGHTY," HE ANNOUNCED REPROACHFULLY</div>
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">"Eh?" enquired Grandma.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You were told to stay in bed, you know,
-dear," said Mrs. Welwyn, coming to her
-husband's assistance.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I were n't never told no such thing by
-nobody," replied the old lady explicitly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Tilly, avoiding Sylvia's eye, decided to make
-the best of the situation.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Well, now you are here, Granny," she interposed
-brightly, "you must come and sit snugly
-by the fire and have some tea. 'Melia, bring that
-little three-legged table and put it by Granny's
-chair, and bring a footstool."</p>
-<p class="pnext">The Welwyns, swiftly taking their cue from
-Tilly, bestirred themselves in fulsome
-desperation, and in a few minutes Grandma Banks, a
-trifle flustered by her sudden and most unusual
-popularity, found herself tucked into her armchair
-by the assiduous efforts of the entire family.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"This is my grandmother, Mrs. Banks," said
-Tilly to Mr. Mainwaring, who happened to be
-sitting nearest.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I trust, Mrs. Banks," began Mr. Mainwaring
-with a deferential bow, "that you are not
-allowing your sense of hospitality to overtax your
-strength."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Eh?" enquired Mrs. Banks, as ever.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"She is rather deaf," explained Tilly in an
-undertone. "Don't strain your voice by talking to
-her too long."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"The gentleman," announced Grandma
-unexpectedly, "shall talk to me as long as he
-likes."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Aha, Tilly, old lady! That's one for you,"
-cried the watchful Percy, and the Welwyn
-family laughed, hurriedly and tumultuously.
-Grandma's octogenarian heart glowed. Social success
-had come to her at last. She began to enjoy
-herself hugely. Tilly cast an anxious glance round
-her. Grandma's entrance had sensibly lowered
-the temperature of the tea-party, and worse
-threatened. Already Lady Adela was exhibiting
-a tendency to edge towards the fireplace. It was
-only too plain that she contemplated yet another
-"cosy chat." Tilly decided to fall back upon the
-one trustworthy person in the room.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Granny," she said, taking Dicky by the arm
-and leading him forward, "I want to introduce
-Mr. Dick Mainwaring. You have heard of him,
-have n't you?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mrs. Banks surveyed Dicky over her spectacles.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes," replied Mrs. Banks with deliberation,
-"I 'ave 'eard of you. You and our Tilly are walking out."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky assented with a happy laugh, and
-dropped into the only chair in Grandma's
-vicinity. Tilly breathed again: Lady Adela's further
-advance was checked. The party settled down
-once more, and talk broke out afresh.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Grandma Banks, whose conversational flights
-were not as a rule encouraged by her relatives,
-availed herself of her present emancipation to
-embark upon a brief homily to Dicky.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I tells you this, young man," she said in a
-hectoring voice, "you've got a treasure in our
-Tilly. Don't you forget it."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I made that discovery for myself a long time
-ago," said Dicky. He smiled up at his treasure,
-who was sitting upon the arm of his chair.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The treasure's grandmother, having in the
-mean time been supplied with refreshment by
-Amelia, took a piece of bread-and-butter and
-rolled it up into a convenient cylinder.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes," she continued, dipping the end of the
-cylinder into her tea, "she takes after her mother,
-does Tilly. She may get some of her looks from
-her father's side, but when it comes to character,
-she's a Banks." Her aged voice rose higher.
-"Always been respectable, 'as the Bankses," she
-announced shrilly. "Very different from--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">At this point not less than three persons
-enquired of Lady Adela if she would not take
-another cup of tea; and in the hospitable mêlée
-which ensued Grandma's further utterances were
-obscured.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Percy was holding Lady Adela's cup, and Tilly
-was re-filling it, when the door opened and
-Mr. Stillbottle made his second entrance. As before,
-he came to a halt immediately on appearing, and
-coughed in a distressing fashion without making
-any attempt to deliver his lines.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"There is that quaint old retainer of yours
-again, Tilly," said Sylvia.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Tilly turned quickly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Well, Russell?" she asked.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Stillbottle, ignoring her entirely, addressed
-himself to the master of the house.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"A message has came through on the telephone,
-sir," he chanted, fixing his eyes upon an
-imaginary prompt-book on the opposite wall, "askin' for
-you to be so kind as to attend a meetin' of the
-Club C'mittee at three o'clock on Toosday next."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I think I am engaged," replied Mr. Welwyn,
-with an anxious glance in the direction of his
-mother-in-law (who was fortunately busily
-occupied in masticating a cylinder); "but say I will
-let them know."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Right," said Mr. Stillbottle, and departed.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The Welwyns, who during the time occupied
-by their butler's second "turn," had been
-inclining uneasy ears in the direction of the open
-doorway, surveyed one another in a frightened
-fashion. All was not well on the second floor:
-evidence to that effect was plainly audible.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Great bore, these committee meetings,"
-commented Mr. Welwyn. "I expect you have your
-fill of them, Mainwaring."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Alas, yes!" said Mr. Mainwaring. "They
-are all the same. Everybody sits and looks
-portentously solemn--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"All sorts of non-controversial business is
-brought forward as a matter of pressing importance--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Everybody disagrees with everybody else--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"And ultimately everything is left to the
-Secretary, who arranges matters quite satisfactorily
-without any assistance whatsoever!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">The two elderly gentlemen laughed happily
-at their own spirited little dialogue, and
-Mr. Welwyn rose to lay down his cup. It was a
-tactical blunder of capital magnitude. Lady Adela,
-left momentarily unguarded, immediately slipped
-her moorings, rose to her feet, and sailed with
-great stateliness in the direction of the fireplace.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I am going to have a chat with your dear
-mother," she observed graciously to Mrs. Welwyn
-in passing. "Dick dear, let me have your chair."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky, feeling that it was not for him to
-participate in a battle of giants, obeyed, and Lady
-Adela sank down opposite Grandma Banks.
-Simultaneously sounds of further disturbances
-penetrated from the regions above, and a small
-lump of plaster fell from the ceiling. Grandma,
-still intent upon a hearty and unwholesome
-tea, made no acknowledgment of Lady Adela's
-presence until Mrs. Welwyn effected an introduction.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Mother," she explained, "this is Lady Adela,
-Mr. Dick's mother."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mrs. Banks nodded curtly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It is very kind of you, Mrs. Banks,"
-intimated Lady Adela in the voice of one who
-meditates producing soup-tickets later on, "to make
-this special effort on our behalf. I hope we are
-not too much for you."</p>
-<p class="pnext">The relict of the departed Banks poured some
-tea from her cup into her saucer, took a hearty
-and sibilant sip, and replied:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Very few folks 'as ever bin too much for me.
-I 'ear as 'ow you have come on business."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"We told her," Mrs. Welwyn explained to Lady
-Adela, who was watching Grandma's performance
-with the saucer with hypnotic fascination,
-"that you and Mr. Mainwaring were coming
-to-day to have a talk about Tilly and Mr. Dick.
-That is what she meant by business, I expect."</p>
-<p class="pnext">But the explanation fell on inattentive ears.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Lady Adela's gaze had now risen from the saucer
-to the ceiling, which was vibrating madly,
-apparently under the repeated impact of one or more
-heavy bodies. The rest of the company had given
-up all pretence at conversation some time ago.</p>
-<p class="pnext">It was Dicky who supplied a line of explanation.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Mrs. Welwyn," he said gravely, "your paper-hangers
-seem to be skylarking a little bit--what?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"That's it," agreed Mrs. Welwyn, transparently
-grateful. "But what can one do?" she
-continued, speaking with pathetic solicitude
-in Lady Adela's direction. "You know what
-paperhangers are!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"A playful race! A playful race!" cooed
-Mr. Welwyn helpfully.</p>
-<p class="pnext">There was another heavy bump overhead.
-The prism-decked chandelier rattled, and the
-ceiling shed another regretful flake.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Sounds as if some one had tried to walk up
-the wall and failed," observed Percy, with that
-courageous facetiousness which comes proverbially
-to Britons at moments of great peril.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"How exasperating it must be for you all,
-Tilly," said Sylvia sympathetically. "I wonder
-you don't go and live somewhere else while it is
-going on."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Tilly, whose powers of endurance were fast
-coming to an end, made no reply. Kindly
-Mr. Mainwaring bridged the gulf of silence.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It is extraordinary," he began chattily to the
-company at large, "how completely one is at
-the mercy of the British workman. Once you
-get him into your house he sticks. I suppose the
-title of arch-limpet must be awarded to the
-plumber; but I should think the paperhanger--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">He was interrupted by the querulous but
-arresting voice of Grandma Banks.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What's that?" she enquired with ominous
-distinctness, "about plumbers?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I was awarding the palm for general iniquity,
-dear Mrs. Banks," explained Mr. Mainwaring
-smilingly, "to the plumbing fraternity. Plumbers--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mrs. Welwyn made a hasty movement, but it
-was too late. Grandma's bowed and shrivelled
-form suddenly swelled and stiffened.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Ho, was you?" she enquired with rising
-indignation. "Then let me tell you that my late
-'usband, Mr. Josiah Banks, what was very 'ighly
-respected in 'Itchin--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Tilly dropped two teaspoons despairingly, and
-there was another and more timely bump overhead.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Percy dear," interposed Mrs. Welwyn hastily,
-"don't you think you had better run up and
-see what those wretches are doing?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Righto, Mother," said Percy, rising with
-alacrity.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"My late 'usband--" resumed Mrs. Banks,
-<em class="italics">crescendo</em>.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It certainly is an extraordinary noise,"
-remarked Mr. Welwyn loudly. "They appear to
-be on the staircase now."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Sliding down the banisters, no doubt," said
-Dicky. "Playful little fellows! Shall I come with
-you, Percy?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Percy Welwyn paused, a little embarrassed.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Don't trouble," he said. "You see--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">He paused again--fatally.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"My late 'usband," proclaimed Grandma
-Banks on the top note of her register, "was a
-plumber 'imself."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Next moment the double doors burst open,
-and Mr. Mehta Ram, frantic with terror, hurled
-himself into the room.</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center large pfirst" id="the-real-tilly">CHAPTER XXII</p>
-<p class="center medium pnext">THE REAL TILLY</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">Mr. Mehta Ram promptly fell at the feet of
-Mr. Welwyn, and attempted, in true Old
-Testament fashion, to embrace that embarrassed
-scholar and gentleman by the knees.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Keep him out!" he shrieked. "Great snakes,
-I implore you! Lock the door!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">In the absence of the snakes this office was
-performed by Percy and Dicky. Directly
-afterwards there was a rush of feet down the
-staircase, and a fusilade of blows began to rain upon
-the panels.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Open the door!" commanded a voice, in a
-frenzied Paisley accent. "I'm wanting in!
-Tae break his neck," it added in explanation.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky and Percy promptly put their backs
-against the door. Mrs. Welwyn crossed hastily
-to her husband's side.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It's that Pumpherston," she announced in
-a low voice. "What are we to do?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Welwyn addressed the suppliant at his feet.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Come, Mr. Mehta Ram," he said, "don't
-be frightened. He can't get in. What is the
-trouble?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Mehta Ram lifted his face from Mr. Welwyn's
-boots and addressed the company at large.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Mr. Welwyn, Mrs. Welwyn, and general
-public," he began--the latter designation was
-apparently intended for the Mainwaring family,
-who, with the exception of Dicky, had ranged
-themselves into a compact group on the further
-side of the room--"I appeal to you as British
-subject--as a member of that great Empire
-upon which the sun never sits--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Sets, old comrade!" corrected Dicky from
-the door.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Shed your tears!" commanded Mr. Ram,
-disregarding the interruption. "Give us a look
-in! I am in jeopardy--in a damtight place!
-My adversary knocks upon the door--the
-avenging Pumpherston! He arraigns me of petty
-larceny. He accuses me that I have confiscated
-his table. But I am innocent! I make my
-defence! I throw myself--Ah-a-a-a-a-h! Help!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">The other door--that leading into Mr. Welwyn's
-bedroom, which itself communicated with
-the landing outside--burst open, and a small,
-red-whiskered, and intensely ferocious gentleman
-bounded in. It was the avenging Pumpherston.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Ram bolted across the room like an obese
-rabbit, and took refuge behind the hostile but
-protective form of Lady Adela.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The avenger paused, obviously nonplussed
-by the size of the assembly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I beg your paurdon," he said awkwardly.
-"I wis not aware--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">He turned, to find Percy and Dicky standing
-beside him, one at each shoulder.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"We were half expecting you, Mr. Pumpherston,"
-said Dicky, with a friendly smile. "But
-if you and this gentleman are playing
-hide-and-seek, the den is upstairs."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I beg your paurdon," repeated Mr. Pumpherston,
-whose bellicosity was fast evaporating,
-"but yon fat heathen has robbed me. He has
-lifted a piece of furniture--Heh! Let me get
-at him!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">With a convulsive bound he wrenched himself
-free from his interlocutors and made a dash for
-the door. But he was too late. Mr. Mehta
-Ram, keeping under the lee of Lady Adela and
-the furniture, had made use of the brief respite
-afforded by the recital of his assailant's
-grievances to effect an unostentatious departure, and
-was now halfway up the staircase again. The
-baffled Pumpherston followed him with a
-long-drawn howl.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Come on, Percy!" said Dicky.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The pair raced out in pursuit, banging the
-door behind them. Presently from abovestairs
-came the sound of renewed conflict; a few
-dull thuds and muffled crashes; and then--silence.</p>
-<div class="center transition">
-<p class="pfirst">――――</p>
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">Lady Adela rose to her feet in awful majesty,
-and addressed the stunned and demoralised
-remnants of the tea-party.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Is this a private asylum," she enquired in
-trumpet tones, "or is it not?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Grandma Banks was the only member of her
-audience who replied.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"My late 'usband," she whimpered--"my
-late 'usband, Mr. Josiah Banks! Greatly
-respected in 'Itchin--greatly respec--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Tears coursed slowly down her furrowed
-cheeks.</p>
-<p class="pnext">In a moment Tilly was kneeling beside her,
-with her arms round the frail old body,
-whispering gently and caressingly into her ear.
-There was a long silence, and Sylvia began to
-pull on her gloves.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I think we had better be going," said Lady
-Adela.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I suppose so," said Mrs. Welwyn helplessly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">But Lucius Welwyn made a last effort. All
-seemed lost, yet his inherent polish and <em class="italics">savoir
-faire</em> rebelled against such an inglorious and
-ignominious end as this.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I must apologise most sincerely for this
-<em class="italics">contretemps</em>, Lady Adela," he said with a ready
-smile. "Those fellows are two disciples of mine.
-Law students--British Museum--and so on.
-They come here periodically to receive
-instruction from me in my library upstairs"--Lady
-Adela looked up and regarded him steadily, but
-he continued with perfect coolness--"but I
-fear that on this occasion racial animosity has
-proved stronger than academic unity of purpose.
-You will understand, I am sure."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Perfectly," replied Lady Adela. "Come, Sylvia."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Sylvia was quite ready, but at this moment the
-door flew open once more, and Dicky and Percy
-reappeared, flushed, panting, but triumphant.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It's all right, Mrs. Welwyn," announced
-Dicky reassuringly. "The brunette gentleman
-has bolted himself into the bathroom, and we
-have locked up the blonde in a broom-cupboard.
-Hallo, Mum--going?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes. Come, Sylvia."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Certainly, Mother," said Sylvia.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky's ear caught the danger-note in his
-sister's voice. He stood transfixed, with dismay
-written across his frank but heated features.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I say," he stammered. "Mum--Sylvia--what
-does all this mean?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Good-bye, Mrs. Welwyn," said Lady Adela
-calmly. "Thank you for--ah--entertaining
-us. I suppose one can get a cab here?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">She shook Mrs. Welwyn's nerveless hand and
-turned to Mr. Mainwaring, who stood awkwardly
-smoothing his hat.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Are you ready, Abel?" she enquired.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Suddenly Tilly Welwyn rose from her knees
-by her grandmother's side, and, to employ a
-dramatic expression, took the centre of the stage.
-She stood face to face with her departing guests,
-her head thrown back and her hands clenched--a
-very slim, very upright, very dignified little
-figure.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Sit down, please, everybody, if you will be
-so kind," she said quietly. "I shan't keep you
-long."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Lady Adela, looking like a boa-constrictor
-which has been challenged to mortal combat by
-a small and inexperienced chicken, stood stockstill,
-with her head oscillating from side to side
-in a slightly uncertain fashion. Then, recovering
-herself, she fell back in good order upon her
-supporters.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The Welwyns, closing loyally upon their small
-champion, spoke in anxious undertones.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Don't chuck up the sponge, Sis," whispered
-Percy encouragingly. "We'll pull you through."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Don't lose your head, my child," counselled
-her father. "You may make things worse."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Tilly, dearie, can you ever forgive me?" was
-all Mrs. Welwyn said. She forgot, in her selfless
-grief for the destruction of her daughter's
-castle-in-the-air, that she herself had predicted its fall.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Little 'Melia said nothing, but passionately
-squeezed her sister's hand.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You are all dears," said Tilly in a clear voice,
-"and I love you for the way you have stood by
-me to-day; but I want to speak to the others just
-now."</p>
-<p class="pnext">She took a step forward towards the Mainwarings,
-who were grouped beside the tea-table.
-But before she could speak, Dicky, who had been
-hovering silently on the outer wing of his own
-party, crossed the floor and joined her.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I'll come and stand over here, Tilly," he said,
-"if you don't mind. There's a nasty draught in
-that corner."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Tilly smiled faintly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I would rather you did n't," she said, with
-the suspicion of a tremor in her voice. "Please
-go over there."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky responded by standing-at-ease, military
-fashion.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Carry on," he said briefly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Please, Dicky!" urged Tilly, "It only makes
-it harder for me."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky glanced at her white face, and retired
-one pace backward.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"That is my limit," he said.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Meanwhile Lady Adela had come to the
-conclusion that all this was very emotional and
-undignified.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Miss Welwyn," she enquired, "what does this mean?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I will tell you," said Tilly. "But first of all
-I must say one thing. I did not try to trap your
-son, as you seem to think. We fell--we came to
-care for one another quite naturally. I made no
-attempt to catch him. I knew nothing whatever
-about him. It--it just happened." She turned
-wistfully to Dicky. "Did n't it?" she asked.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky nodded his head gravely.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It just happened," he said.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"And since we cared for one another--or
-thought we did"--continued Tilly with a little
-choke, "it never came into my head that
-anything else could matter. But last Saturday, when
-I went to stay at your house, and saw your grand
-ways and your grand servants, and all the
-commotion you made about Members of Parliament,
-and county families, and all that--well, I began
-to see rocks ahead. I felt common. My courage
-began to fail. I began to be afraid that you would
-not take kindly to the Family--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It was n't you that was afraid, dearie," said a
-respectful voice behind her. "It was the Family."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I saw, too, Lady Adela," continued Tilly,
-"that <em class="italics">you</em> were against me--dead against me--and
-that as soon as you got hold of a
-decent-excuse I should be bundled out of your son's life,
-like--like an entanglement. That put my back
-up. I had meant to be perfectly straight and
-unpretentious with you, but when I saw what
-you were after, I determined to fight. So I have
-deceived you."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"We all have," murmured a loyal chorus.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You have been <em class="italics">done</em>!" proclaimed Tilly
-defiantly. She was fast losing control of herself.
-She felt dimly that she was behaving in an
-hysterical and theatrical manner; but when one's world
-is tumbling about one's ears, one may be excused
-for stating the truth rather more explicitly than
-is usual. "Yes--<em class="italics">done</em>!" she repeated. "I will
-tell you just exactly who we are and what we are.
-Father is a gentleman, right enough"--her
-voice rang out proudly--"as well-born a gentleman
-as any of the land; but he has followed no
-regular profession for twenty years, and he lives
-on Mother. Mother keeps lodgings. This house
-is a lodging-house, and those two men you saw
-were lodgers. Percy works in a wholesale haberdasher's
-in Holborn. I do a little dress-designing.
-'Melia helps Mother with the lodgers. So you see
-you have been imposed on: we work for a
-living! But you must n't blame the Family for what
-has happened. It was my idea from start to
-finish: the Family only backed me up. And they did
-back me up! No girl ever had such a splendid
-father or mother, or brother or sister." Tilly
-stepped back into the heart of her bodyguard,
-feeling for friendly hands. "I 'm proud of them,"
-she cried passionately, "proud to belong to them!
-I'm proud that my name is Tilly Welwyn, and
-I never wish to change it for any other. We
-Welwyns may be nobodies but we stick together.
-There! You may go now."</p>
-<p class="pnext">The drawing-room door creaked and opened,
-but no one noticed.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I have told you everything, I think," said
-Tilly, more calmly. "I know now that I should
-have told you in any case. That's all.... No,
-it's not."</p>
-<p class="pnext">She swung round towards the doorway, and
-pointed to the grotesque figure of that earnest
-student of the drama, Samuel Stillbottle, who
-was myopically deciphering a small but tattered
-document, all but concealed in the palm of his
-hand.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"We're paupers!" she cried. "We're in debt!
-We're broke! There's a distraint on the
-furniture; and that creature"--Mr. Stillbottle,
-hazily conscious that a cue was coming, furtively
-thrust his manuscript into his waistcoat
-pocket--"that creature is a broker's man! Oh, Mother,
-Mother, Mother!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">In an instant Martha Welwyn's arms closed
-round her daughter.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"There, there!" she crooned. "My lamb, my
-pretty, my precious, my dearie--don't you cry!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">There was a deathlike stillness, broken only by
-Tilly's sobs. The Mainwarings stood like statues.
-Mr. Welwyn sat on the sofa, his head bowed
-between his hands. Grandma Banks slumbered
-peacefully. The bewildered but conscientious
-Stillbottle seized his opportunity, and cleared his
-throat.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"The shover, sir," he announced huskily, "is
-below, a-waitin' for--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Next moment a hand like a vice closed upon
-the herald's collar, and Dicky Mainwaring's voice
-remarked concisely into his ear:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Go to the devil."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Stillbottle, utterly dazed, raised his head
-and surveyed the company. Then he smiled
-apologetically.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Wrong entrance," he observed. "My error!
-<em class="italics">Exit hastily!</em>"</p>
-<p class="pnext">He turned, and shuffled out.</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center large pfirst" id="the-real-mr-welwyn">CHAPTER XXIII</p>
-<p class="center medium pnext">THE REAL MR. WELWYN</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<!-- -->
-<blockquote>
-<div>
-<div class="line-block outermost">
-<div class="line">"<em class="italics">There is an evenin' paper--</em>"</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</blockquote>
-<p class="pfirst">quavered Mr. Stillbottle blithely, with his feet
-upon the kitchen hob,--</p>
-<blockquote>
-<div>
-<div class="line-block outermost">
-<div class="inner line-block">
-<div class="line">--"<em class="italics">which is published in the mornin'!</em></div>
-</div>
-<div class="line"><em class="italics">Twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, little Star!</em>"</div>
-<div class="line"> </div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</blockquote>
-<p class="pfirst">He unfolded the early edition of the organ in
-question and devoted himself to a laboured
-perusal of the list of probable starters for the
-Lincolnshire Handicap, now looming in the immediate
-future; for he was anxious to ascertain whether
-his premonitions as to the identity of the winner
-coincided with those of the prophet retained by
-the management. Apparently they did; for
-presently the paper was laid aside with a contented
-sigh, and the student of form resumed the hoary
-lay which anxiety connected with the investment
-of his newly acquired capital had caused him
-momentarily to abandon.</p>
-<blockquote>
-<div>
-<div class="line-block outermost">
-<div class="inner line-block">
-<div class="inner line-block">
-<div class="line">"<em class="italics">Twinkle, Star!</em></div>
-<div class="line"><em class="italics">Tiddley Wink!</em></div>
-</div>
-</div>
-<div class="line"><em class="italics">Twinkle on till you dunno where you are!</em></div>
-<div class="inner line-block">
-<div class="line"><em class="italics">Oh, we 'll make things warm for 'Arcourt,</em></div>
-<div class="line">If 'e ever comes down our court!*</div>
-</div>
-<div class="line"><em class="italics">Twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, little St--</em>"</div>
-<div class="line"> </div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</blockquote>
-<p class="pfirst">Conscious of a draught upon the back of his
-neck, the vocalist turned uneasily in the
-direction of the door. It had opened some six inches,
-revealing to view a pair of cherubic heads, set
-one above the other. Each head was furnished
-with a pair of quite circular blue eyes, which
-surveyed Mr. Stillbottle, with unwinking and
-unnerving ecstasy.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"The Funny Man!" proclaimed The Cure joyously.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yesh," agreed The Caution. "Lesh box him."</p>
-<p class="pnext">The pair entered the room hand in hand, and
-advanced grimly to the attack.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Stillbottle hastily removed his feet from
-the hob.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You two," he announced, "can get on out
-of this. I ain't never done you no 'arm, 'ave I?"
-he added appealingly; "so why---"</p>
-<p class="pnext">At this point The Caution dealt him a playful
-but disabling blow in the waistcoat. The Cure,
-with a shriek of rapture, seized Mr. Stillbottle's
-frayed coat by the tails and whirled its owner
-round three times upon his axis.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Now catch me!" she shrieked.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"If I <em class="italics">do</em>--" gasped Mr. Stillbottle, clutching
-dizzily at the mantelpiece. Further words failed
-him, and entrenching himself behind a table, he
-waited like a hunted animal for the further
-assaults of his enemies.</p>
-<p class="pnext">He was not kept long in suspense. Having
-armed themselves with the fire-irons, the two
-affectionate but boisterous infants were upon the
-point of inaugurating a game of what they called
-"beat-the-carpet"--it is hardly necessary to
-specify the rôle assigned to Mr. Stillbottle--when
-the door opened, revealing the welcome
-figure of Dicky Mainwaring.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Straightway weapons were thrown down, and
-the newcomer found himself the centre of a cloud
-of embraces. Dicky was a prime favourite with
-children and dogs--no bad test of character,
-either.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Presently, having shaken himself free from
-the unmaidenly caresses of the youngest Miss
-Welwyn, Dicky became aware of the pathetic
-presence of Mr. Stillbottle.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Good-morning, Mr. Russell," he said. "You
-are just the man I want to see."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You can see me as often and as long as you
-like, sir," replied the afflicted Russell fervently,
-"if only you'll put those two imps on the other
-side of that door."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Certainly," said Dicky. "Now you two, skedaddle!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">To the amazement and admiration of their
-late victim the two freebooters departed
-immediately, merely pausing to receive a valedictory
-salute from their evictor. Dicky closed the door
-upon them, and motioning the broker's man to
-a chair, enquired:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Where is everybody this morning, Mr. Russell?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"My name, in mufti, to my friends," replied
-the grateful Russell, "is Stillbottle. But you was
-asking about 'everybody.' Meanin' the Barcelona
-Troupe of Performing Nuts?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky nodded.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Upstairs, most of 'em," said Stillbottle.
-"All but your little bit. She 'as gone out."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky looked up sharply.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"For long?" he asked.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I could n't say," replied the broker's man.
-"Perce has gone to the City. Mother and the
-little 'un are a-makin' of the beds. The Principal
-Filbert is still between the sheets. I'm the
-only member of the cast visible at present. But
-as you say it's me you came to see, perhaps you'll
-kindly state your business."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky did so.</p>
-<p class="pnext">A quarter of an hour later he ascended to the
-drawing-room, restored to its usual aspect of
-dingy propriety after yesterday's junketings. He
-noticed that his carnations had disappeared.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Welwyn was just entering from his
-bedroom. At the sight of Dicky he started, but
-recovering himself with his usual readiness, shook
-hands.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Good-morning, Mr. Mainwaring," he said.
-"Be seated."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky complied. "You seem surprised to see
-me, sir," he said.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Frankly," replied Mr. Welwyn, "I am. After
-our treatment of you yesterday I hardly expected
-you to return. I can only extenuate our performance
-by assuring you that what looked like a carefully
-graduated series of insults was nothing more
-than the logical, if unforeseen, development of
-a somewhat childish attempt upon our part to
-delude your family into the impression that our
-circumstances were not so straitened as, in point
-of fact, they are. We meant well, but--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Welwyn concluded this explanation with
-a rather helpless gesture. It was an awkward
-and difficult moment. With all his faults he was
-a man of feeling, with a gentleman's inherent
-distaste for anything savouring of sharp
-practice; and he knew that the boy before him felt
-the situation as acutely as himself. There are
-few sadder sights than that of an old man eating
-humble pie to a young man.</p>
-<p class="pnext">But Dicky, The Freak, was equal to the occasion.
-He answered gravely:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"The point of view which I prefer to take,
-Mr. Welwyn, is this--that you were all trying
-to do a good turn to Tilly."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Thank you, Dick," said Mr. Welwyn simply.
-"Still, there was a second reason which I thought
-might perhaps keep you away."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What was that?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Well--the presence in one's abode of a
-sheriff's officer is apt to exercise a dispersive
-influence upon one's calling acquaintance."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"On this occasion, however," replied Dicky
-serenely, "you will find that a calling acquaintance
-has dispersed the sheriff's officer."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Welwyn, who had been perambulating
-the room, stopped dead.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You don't mean to tell me," he exclaimed,
-"that the fellow is gone?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky nodded. "Five minutes ago," he said.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"But--I don't understand," muttered the
-elder man. "Did you <em class="italics">kick</em> him out? If so, the fat
-is in the fire with a--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"He left this behind him," interposed Dicky
-awkwardly. "Under the circumstances--I took
-the liberty."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Welwyn gazed long and silently at the
-stamped document which lay beneath his eyes.
-Then he looked up at Dicky and made a movement
-as if to shake hands; then drew back and
-bowed, not without dignity.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Mr. Mainwaring," he said, "I thank you. I
-will leave it at that. If I possessed a less intimate
-knowledge of my own character, I should hasten
-to give utterance to the sentiment which at this
-moment dominates my mind--namely, a sincere
-determination never to rest until I have
-repaid you this sum. But I have not arrived at
-my present estate without learning that any such
-impulse on my part would be entirely transitory.
-From the age of five I can never recollect
-having formed a single resolution that I was able
-to keep. I therefore accept your very generous
-aid without protest or false pride. My wife, of
-course, would not approve. She comes of a class
-whose sole criterion of respectability is a
-laborious solvency during life and an expensive funeral
-after death. Do not imagine that I am belittling
-her. She is the one sound investment I ever made.
-I need not trouble you with the facts of our
-courtship and marriage; but I will tell you this, my
-boy, that if a man had real cause to be grateful
-for and proud of his wife, that man is Lucius
-Welwyn. And the extraordinary part of it all is
-that she is proud of me--<em class="italics">me</em>! Instead of acting
-like a sensible woman and deploring me as a
-commercial and domestic liability, she persists in
-exalting me into a social asset of the first water.
-I do not attempt to dispel these illusions of hers.
-In a woman's hands an illusion, after she has
-fashioned it to the shape that pleases her,
-hardens into a solid, enduring, and comforting fact.
-Perhaps, then, things are best as they are. But
-I cherish no illusions about myself. I know my
-limits. I am a considerate husband and an
-affectionate father. My temper, except at times of
-the severest domestic stringency, is irreproachable;
-and I find myself generally regarded as
-good company by my friends. But I am not a
-worldly success. I take life too easily, perhaps.
-I allow others to step over my head. I am too
-ready to stand by and watch the passing show,
-rather than plunge in and take my part."</p>
-<p class="pnext">The speaker paused, and for a moment his
-glance rested upon the honest, rather puzzled,
-but deeply interested eyes of the young man upon
-the sofa. Suddenly an exposition of candour
-came upon Mr. Welwyn.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"There was a time," he said in a less buoyant
-tone, "when these propensities of mine used to
-distress me. The day I was deprived of my
-Fellowship, for instance--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">His voice shook suddenly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Don't tell me about it, sir, if you would
-rather not," said Dicky quietly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"For drunkenness, Mr. Mainwaring--for
-drunkenness!" burst out Mr. Welwyn. "Not for
-chronic, sordid soaking--that has never been
-a foible of mine--but for characteristic inability
-to do things in their right order. Take warning
-by me, Dick, and never put the cart before the
-horse. I had been invited to lecture to a very
-learned body upon a very special occasion. A
-successful appearance would have gained me my
-F.R.S. The natural and proper course for me to pursue
-was to deliver the lecture first and treat myself
-to a magnum of champagne afterwards. What I
-actually did was to treat myself to the magnum
-of champagne and then deliver the lecture. I
-may say with all modesty that that lecture caused
-a profound sensation. It is still quoted--but not
-in textbooks; and it ended my University career.
-My life since has been a series of similar
-incidents--disaster arising from my inherent inability
-to distinguish between the time to be merry and
-the time to sing psalms. Still, I keep on smiling.
-Fortune has not touched me for many years now.
-Fortune likes fresh blood: once you get used to
-her she leaves you alone. You see the manner of
-man I now am--a seasoned philosopher--a
-man who takes life as it comes--a man who
-never meets trouble halfway--a man
-unburdened by the sentimental craving, so prevalent
-in this hysterical age, to confer unsolicited
-benefits upon his fellows--a man unhampered at the
-same time by narrow scruples about accepting,
-in the spirit in which it is offered, the occasional
-assistance of his friends. In short, a sane,
-dispassionate, evenly balanced man of the world,
-insured against sudden upheaval by a sense of
-proportion, and against depression of spirits by a
-sense of humour."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Welwyn paused again, and there was
-another silence, punctuated by the rattle of traffic
-outside. Presently he continued, in yet
-another mood:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Sometimes my point of view changes. I look
-at myself, and what do I see? An elderly,
-shabby-genteel inhabitant of Bloomsbury, with
-not a single memory of the past to fall back on,
-save that of a youth utterly wasted--a youth
-hung about with golden opportunities, each
-and all successively disregarded from a fatuous,
-childish belief that the supply was inexhaustible--and
-with nothing to look forward to but a
-further period of dependence upon a wife who
-is as much my moral superior as she is my social
-inferior. An earner of casual guineas--a
-picker-up of stray newspapers--the recipient of
-refreshment respectfully proffered by unintellectual
-but infinitely more worthy associates in
-bar parlours. A loafer--a waster--a <em class="italics">failure</em>!
-That, Mr. Mainwaring, is the father of the girl
-whom you desire to marry.... I am not what
-you would call religious, but sometimes the
-impulse comes upon me--and I obey it forthwith--to
-go down upon my knees and thank God from
-the bottom of my heart that my children take
-after their mother."</p>
-<p class="pnext">The broken scholar dropped wearily into his
-chair.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Youth! Youth! Youth! Youth!" he murmured.
-"Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">His head slipped down between his hands.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky, curiously stirred, attempted to say
-some word, but nothing came.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Suddenly Mr. Welwyn sprang to his feet. The
-cloud had lifted, or else pride had come to the
-rescue. It is often difficult to tell which.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Dick," he said, "I perceive from your attitude
-that you are about to be sympathetic. Don't!
-Sympathy is wasted on me. In five minutes from
-now this mood will have passed. In half an hour
-I shall be as happy as an ostrich with its head in
-the sand. That has been my lifelong posture, and
-a very comfortable posture, too, once you get
-used to it! It is only when one comes up to
-breathe that things hurt a bit. Now, if you will
-excuse me, I must go out. I have had a letter this
-morning offering me some exceedingly welcome
-and possibly permanent work. I do not know
-where Tilly is, but she should be in presently. I
-do not ask what your business with her may be.
-I have no right--and no need."</p>
-<p class="pnext">The two men shook hands.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Good-bye, dear Dick," said Mr. Welwyn,
-"and thank you for the very unobtrusive manner
-in which you have helped a lame dog over a stile."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Next moment the door closed, and he was gone.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"We are queer mixtures," mused philosophic
-Dicky.... "I wonder where Tilly is!"</p>
-<div class="center transition">
-<p class="pfirst">――――</p>
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">Five minutes later the drawing-room door
-opened again, this time to admit little 'Melia.
-She paused and drew back, at the spectacle of her
-late ally sprawling at ease before the scanty fire.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Hallo, 'Melia!" said Dicky cheerfully.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Hallo!" replied Amelia cautiously. "Have
-you come to--see mother?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Not to-day, thank you," said Dicky. He regarded
-the little girl curiously. "I say, 'Melia,
-have I offended you in any way?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You? Me? No!" replied Amelia, in
-wide-eyed surprise. "Why?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky smiled coyly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"There used to be a pleasant little form of
-greeting," he intimated.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You still want to?" cried 'Melia in a flutter.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Please."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Next moment Miss Amelia Welwyn, feeling
-that the bottom had not dropped out of the
-universe after all, was giving Mr. Richard
-Mainwaring a kiss.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Where is Tilly this morning?" asked Dicky
-carelessly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Gone out," said Amelia--"to look for a job.
-She gave up the other one when she got--engaged."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I see," said Dicky, nodding his head.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I suppose you have come to break it off,"
-continued the experienced Amelia. "They all
-said last night you were bound to do it, after
-what had happened."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"That sort of thing," explained Dicky, "is
-done for one by one's parents, I believe. I am
-rather young, you see," he added apologetically.</p>
-<p class="pnext">He rose, gently displacing his small admirer
-from his knee.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Now I must be off," he said. "Give this to
-Tilly for me, will you?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Amelia was still twisting and turning the letter
-in her hands when the bang of the front door
-signalled Dicky's departure.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"If his parents are going to break it off for
-him," said Amelia to herself in a puzzled whisper,
-"what does he want to go writing to her for?"</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center large pfirst" id="a-garden-plot-in-russell-square">CHAPTER XXIV</p>
-<p class="center medium pnext">A GARDEN PLOT IN RUSSELL SQUARE</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">Outside, leaning contentedly against the
-railings of the garden opposite to the Maison
-Welwyn, and enjoying the spring sunshine, Dicky
-encountered the Carmyles.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Hallo, you two!" he said. "What are you
-doing here? Liable to get run in for loitering,
-hanging about like this."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"We have followed you, Dicky," began Connie
-rapidly, "to tell you that your mother is coming
-up to town, and--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Mother--already?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Connie nodded.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Fourth speed in," confirmed Mr. Carmyle.
-"Live axle--direct drive--open exhaust."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Trailing your father behind her," added
-Connie. "I understand you had an interview with
-them this morning."</p>
-<p class="pnext">The Freak gave a wry smile.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I did," he said. "It was rather a heated
-interview, I'm afraid. Words passed. But we can't
-stand here dodging taxis. Come into the garden,
-Maud!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Don't we require a key?" enquired the
-re-christened Connie, surveying the iron railings
-which enclosed the Bloomsbury Eden.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I have one," said Dicky. "It belongs to the
-Welwyns. Tilly and I used to use it a good deal,"
-he explained, in a subdued voice.</p>
-<p class="pnext">He led the way into the dingy but romantic
-pleasance which had sheltered himself and his
-beloved, and the trio sat down upon a damp seat.
-Mrs. Carmyle, looking rather like one of the
-sparrows which hopped inquisitively about her
-daintily shod feet, established herself between
-her two large companions. Her husband, who
-was a creature of homely instincts, hung his silk
-hat upon an adjacent bough with a sigh of content,
-and began to fill a large briar pipe. Dicky,
-a prey to melancholy, kicked the grass with his
-heels.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Where is Tilly this morning?" asked Connie.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Gone out--to look for a job!" replied Dicky
-through his clenched teeth. "Just as if a snug
-home and the life of a lady were things she had
-never dreamed of!" His eyes blazed. "Great
-Heavens, Connie--the pluck of the child! What
-a brute it makes me feel!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Connie patted his hand maternally, but said
-nothing. There was nothing to say. Presently
-Dicky continued, in a more even voice:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"So my mother is coming up this morning--to
-strike while the iron is hot--eh?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"'To make a direct appeal to Miss Welwyn's
-better nature,' was what she <em class="italics">said</em>," replied
-Mrs. Carmyle cautiously.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I am afraid there will be a bit of a scrap,"
-said Dicky thoughtfully. "My dear mother's
-normal attitude towards her fellow-creatures is
-that of a righteous person compelled to travel
-third-class with a first-class ticket; but when she
-goes on the warpath into the bargain--well,
-that is where I take cover."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"She'll roll the Welwyns out flat," observed
-Mr. Carmyle, with that conviction which only
-painful experience can instill.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"She won't roll Tilly out flat," said Dicky.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Nor Mrs. Welwyn either," added Connie;
-"so kindly refrain from putting in your oar, Bill!
-We are n't all terrified of Lady Adela. <em class="italics">Cowardy,
-cowardy, cus--</em>"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Carmyle, flushing with shame, abruptly
-invited his small oppressor to switch off; and
-Dicky proceeded to review the situation.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I don't think my dear parent will get much
-change out of any of the Welwyns," he said.
-"They are a fairly competent lot. Moreover,
-they have burned their boats and have nothing
-to lose; so I expect there will be some very pretty
-work. My lady mother is an undoubted champion
-in her class, I admit, but she has got a bit out of
-condition lately. Managing Dad and harrying
-the County are n't really sufficient to keep a
-woman of her fighting-weight up to the mark.
-Still, I don't particularly want her big guns let
-loose on Tilly."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Tilly has gone out for the day, I suppose?"
-said Connie.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"So I was told. But how did you guess?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Connie Carmyle flapped her small hands despairingly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Oh, what creatures!" she cried, apparently
-apostrophising the male sex in general. "Can't
-you understand anything or anybody--not
-even the girl you love? Of course, she is out for
-the day; and if you go there to-morrow she will
-be out for the day, too!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Why?" asked Dicky blankly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes--why?" echoed that sympathetic but
-obtuse Philistine, Bill Carmyle.</p>
-<p class="pnext">His wife turned upon him like lightning.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Bill," she said, "keep perfectly quiet, or I
-shall send you off to meet Lady Adela's train at
-Waterloo! I want to talk to Dicky. Now, Dicky,
-listen to me. That little girl"--Connie's eyes
-grew suddenly tender, for she loved her sex--"cares
-for you, old man--quite a lot. Quite
-enough, in fact, to draw back if she thinks she is
-going to stand in your way during life. That
-pathetic little fraud of a tea-party yesterday has
-set her thinking. She has suddenly realised that
-although she might <em class="italics">get</em> you by false pretences, she
-could not <em class="italics">keep</em> you by false pretences--nor want
-to. She has also realised that her Family are
-impossible. That means that she will have to give
-up either you or the Family. And you are the
-one she will give up, Dicky. She loves you too
-much to pull you down to their level. She won't
-give that as her reason--women are built like
-that--but she will give you up, all the same."</p>
-<p class="pnext">The usually placid Dicky had grown excessively
-agitated during this homily.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Connie," he burst out, "for goodness' sake
-don't try to frighten me like that! Tilly's Family
-are not impossible. They 're only a bit improbable.
-And besides, talking of impossible families,
-look at mine! Do you know who my grandfather
-was? He was a Lancashire cotton operative--a
-hand in a mill. He invented something--a
-shuttle, or a bobbin, or something of that kind--and
-made a fortune out of it. He ultimately died
-worth a hundred thousand pounds; but to the
-end of his days he dined without his coat, and, if
-he could possibly escape detection, without his
-collar either. I never saw him, but my Dad says
-he was a dear old chap, and I can quite believe it.
-As a father-in-law he was a sore trial to my poor
-mother, whose ancestors had worn their collars
-at meals for quite a considerable period; but the
-hundred thousand overcame her susceptibilities
-in the end, and she and Dad have lived happily
-ever since."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky rose restlessly to his feet, and continued
-his address standing.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Now I think," he said, "that we can set my
-grandfather, cotton operative, against the late
-lamented Banks, plumber and gas-fitter. Banks,
-of course, was the bigger man socially--you
-know how plumbers get asked simply <em class="italics">everywhere</em>--but
-Mainwaring's son married the daughter of
-an Earl; so we will call them quits. Anyway,
-Tilly is quite as good as I am--miles better, in
-fact."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Dear Dicky!" murmured Connie approvingly.
-Here was a lover of the right metal.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What about friend Perce?" enquired a gruff voice.</p>
-<p class="pnext">It was a telling question. If Dicky could clothe
-such an uncompromising fact as Percy Welwyn
-in a garment of romance, he was capable of
-making a success of any marriage. Mr. Carmyle
-waited grimly for his answer.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Ah--Percy!" replied Dicky thoughtfully.
-"Yes, Tiny, old soul, that's a sound question.
-Well, Percy is n't exactly polished--in fact, one
-might almost be forgiven for describing him as a
-holy terror--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"He wants losing," said Carmyle with conviction.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"But listen," pursued Dicky. "Percy may be
-all we say, but he cheerfully hands over half his
-weekly screw, which is n't a fabulous one, to the
-common fund of the Family. It is not every
-young man who would do that, especially such a
-social success as Percy. Oh, yes, Connie, he is a
-social success; so don't look incredulous. I tell
-you he is a regular Apollo at shilling hops. He
-took me to one a few weeks ago."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Where?" asked Connie.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Somewhere near Kennington Oval. The girls
-simply swarmed over him. But he is not in the
-least stuck up about it; and--well, he is kind to
-Tilly. I am, therefore," concluded Dicky stoutly,
-"an upholder of Percy."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Carmyle, encouraged by the silence of his
-wife, felt emboldened to continue his cross-examination.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What about mother-in-law?" he queried.</p>
-<p class="pnext">It was a foolish question.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"She is a woman in a thousand," said Dicky
-promptly, and Mrs. Carmyle, with a withering
-side-glance at her unfortunate lord, nodded her
-head vigorously in affirmation.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Mrs. Welwyn is not what we call a lady,"
-proceeded Dicky, "but she is the right stuff all
-through. I admit that she has not been quite
-successful in her efforts to polish Percy, but look
-at the others! The little sister, 'Melia, is a dear.
-The twins are rippers. Old Welwyn--well, he's
-a rotter, but he's a gentlemanly rotter; which
-pretty well describes the majority of my friends,
-now I come to think of it. And he is no
-hypocrite: he is quite frank about his weaknesses.
-Now, to sum up. On her father's side Tilly is a
-lady; on her mother's side she is a brick. That's
-a pretty good combination. Anyhow, it's good
-enough for me; and if she'll have me I'm going
-to marry her."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky concluded the unburdening of his soul
-with a shout and a wave of his hat, and all the
-sparrows flew away.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Now," said Connie, patting the seat in a
-soothing fashion, "sit down and tell me how you
-are going to do it."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky resumed his place beside her and said
-meekly:--</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I'm looking to you to tell me that, Connie."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Apparently he had made the remark that was
-expected of him, for Connie immediately assumed
-a little air of profound wisdom, and her
-unregenerate husband emitted an unseemly gurgle.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Your first difficulty, of course," she said to
-Dicky, ignoring her wretched and ill-controlled
-spouse, "will be to see Tilly. After the humiliation
-of yesterday her only instinct will be to hide
-herself. She will be not-at-home to you every time
-you call; and of course, it is n't fair that you
-should hang about in the hopes of catching her
-outside."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No," agreed Dicky. "Not the game."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You have written to her, I suppose?" said
-Connie.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes. Left a note this morning," replied
-Dicky, brightening up.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Well, of course, that is no use. It will make
-her happier, poor little soul, but it won't change
-her decision. Letters never do. You've simply
-got to see her, Dicky! Bill, run away for a minute,
-there's a dear. Go and think about a cantilever,
-or something, over there."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Carmyle, puffing smoke, obediently
-withdrew to the other side of a clump of sooty
-rhododendrons. Connie turned eagerly to Dicky. Her
-face was flushed and eager, like a child's.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Dicky," she whispered earnestly, "<em class="italics">see</em> her!
-<em class="italics">See</em> her! See her alone! Take her in your arms
-and tell her that you will never, never, never let
-her go! She will struggle and try to break away;
-but hold on. Hold on tight! Go on telling her
-that you love her and will never leave her. When
-she sees that you mean it, she will give in. I
-know. I'm a woman, and I know!" Connie
-squeezed Dicky's arm violently. "I <em class="italics">know</em>!" she
-repeated.... "You can come back now, Bill dear."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Nice goings-on, I don't think," observed
-Mr. Carmyle severely, reappearing round the
-rhododendron. "Shouting all over the garden--what?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">But the two conspirators, still in the clouds
-together, took no notice of him. Instead, Connie
-rose to her feet and began to walk towards the
-nearest gate. The two men followed.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Connie, how am I going to do it?" asked
-Dicky deferentially.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I have a plan," replied Connie, with portentous
-solemnity. She was launched on an enterprise
-after her own heart. "Listen! Have you a
-portmanteau?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes, at my rooms."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Well, go there and pack it."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Why?" asked Dicky in a dazed voice.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mrs. Carmyle replied by quoting a famous and
-oracular phrase which had lately fallen from the
-lips of a prominent statesman, and the party
-reached the railings.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Hallo, there's a taxi at the Welwyns' door,"
-said Carmyle. "I wonder--oh, Lord!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">He fell hastily to the rear, his knees knocking
-together. Two figures were ascending the steps
-of the house. One was majestic and purposeful;
-the other small and reluctant. The front door
-opened and closed upon them.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"My mother--already!" exclaimed Dicky in dismay.</p>
-<p class="pnext">That burned child, William Carmyle, broke
-into a gentle perspiration.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Never mind," said Connie reassuringly. "She
-was bound to come. She can't do any harm."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Supposing she gets Tilly to agree never to
-see me again?" said Dicky feverishly. "Supposing
-she insults her with money?" He ground
-his teeth, and Carmyle groaned sympathetically.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Connie patted his arm soothingly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"The last word is the only thing that matters
-in this case," she said with great confidence;
-"and you are going to have that, Dicky, my
-friend. Now, run away and pack your portmanteau.
-Then come and lunch with us at Prince's.
-I must fly. I have an appointment with a gentleman
-at Russell Square Tube Station at twelve-thirty.
-It is after that now."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky glanced at Bill Carmyle for an
-explanation of this mysterious assignation, but that
-gentleman merely shook his head in a bewildered
-fashion.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Don't ask me, old man," he said.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Who is the gentleman, Connie?" Dicky enquired.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"An admirer of mine," replied Mrs. Carmyle,
-with a gratified smile. "I met him in the train
-this morning."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"For the first time?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No--second. When I saw him I had an idea,
-so we arranged to meet again at twelve-thirty.
-He has another engagement, but he said it did n't
-matter when I asked him. After he has done
-what I want, he is coming to lunch, too. Now
-run and pack. Au revoir!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Revelling in every turn of the highly
-complicated plot which she was weaving, little
-Mrs. Carmyle, followed by her inarticulate but inflated
-husband, pattered swiftly away round the
-corner--and incidentally out of this narrative--turning
-to wave a reassuring hand to her client
-before disappearing.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The Freak, puzzled but confident, went home
-to pack his portmanteau.</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center large pfirst" id="purely-commercial">CHAPTER XXV</p>
-<p class="center medium pnext">PURELY COMMERCIAL</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="center medium pfirst">I</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">"Well," said Mrs. Welwyn, taking off her
-apron, "the beds are done, anyway. One less to
-make," she added philosophically, "now that
-Pumpherston has hopped it. That's something."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"We could do with the rent of his room for all
-that, Mother," commented practical Amelia.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"That's true, dearie," sighed Mrs. Welwyn.
-"Well, perhaps we shall get another lodger.
-Where's your father, by the way?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"He went out half an hour ago. I expect he's
-at the Museum."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Did Mr. Dick see him?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I don't know."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"And Mr. Dick said he did n't want to see
-me?" Mrs. Welwyn spoke rather wistfully.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"That was what he said," admitted 'Melia in a
-respectful tone.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I don't suppose he's very anxious to see any
-of us much," said Mrs. Welwyn candidly. "We
-must just get the idea out of our heads, that's
-all. Forget it! Then, there's that broker's
-insect. We are going to get <em class="italics">him</em> paid off
-double-quick, or I 'm a Dutchman. I don't know how
-it's going to be done. Still, we have got round
-worse corners than this, have n't we, duckie?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Yes, Mother," said Amelia bravely.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Martha Welwyn suddenly flung her arms round
-her little daughter.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"My precious," she whispered impulsively, "I
-would n't mind if it was n't for you
-children." Her voice broke. "God pity women!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Mother, Mother!" cried little 'Melia reprovingly.
-"That's not like you!" And she hugged
-her tearful but contrite parent back to
-cheerfulness again.</p>
-<p class="pnext">A door banged downstairs, and the two fell
-apart guiltily.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"That's Tilly," said Mrs. Welwyn. "We
-must n't be downhearted, or she'll scold us.
-Bustle about!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">With great vigour and presence of mind this
-excellent woman snatched the cloth off the table
-and shook it severely. Amelia, having hastily
-removed a tear from her mother's cheek with a
-duster, opened the piano and began to wipe down
-the keys, to the accompaniment of an
-inharmonious chromatic scale.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The door flew open and Tilly marched in,
-humming a cheerful air.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Such luck, Mother!" she cried.</p>
-<p class="pnext">For a moment Martha Welwyn was deceived.
-She whirled round excitedly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What do you mean, dearie?" she exclaimed.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I've got a berth--with Madame Amelie--old
-Mrs. Crump, you know--in Earl's Court
-Road. One of her girls is leaving--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Got the sack?" enquired Mrs. Welwyn,
-rearranging the tablecloth.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No. She's only"--Tilly's voice quavered
-ever so slightly--"going to be married. I've
-got her place, and I 'm once more an independent
-lady."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"That's capital news, Tilly," said Mrs. Welwyn
-heartily. At any rate, her daughter would
-have something to occupy her mind.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Now the next thing to do," proceeded Tilly
-with great animation, "is to get rid of the
-broker's man. We ought to be able to raise the
-money all right. I'm at work again. Dad has
-had an offer of newspaper articles; and if only we
-can get Mr. Pumpherston's room let--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"The broker's man has gone, Sis," said Amelia.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Gone?" cried Tilly and Mrs. Welwyn in a breath.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Well, gone out, anyhow. I saw him shuffling
-across the Square half an hour ago."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"My lord will find the chain up when he comes
-back," said Mrs. Welwyn grimly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Still, we must find the money," persisted
-Tilly. "We have never been in debt yet, and we
-are never going to be." Her slight figure stiffened
-proudly. "Independence! That's the only thing
-worth having in this world. Be independent!
-Owe nothing to nobody!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Certainly, whether she derived it from her
-father's ancestry or her mother's solid worth,
-Tilly Welwyn was composed of good fibre. With
-flushed cheeks and unnaturally bright eyes she
-turned to the mirror over the drawing-room
-mantelpiece and began to take off her hat.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It's a mystery to me," ruminated the puzzled
-Mrs. Welwyn, "why that creature went out.
-He must have known we would n't let him in
-again."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Perhaps Dicky kicked him out," suggested
-that small hero-worshipper, Amelia, with relish.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Tilly turned sharply.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Who?" she asked. A hatpin tinkled into the fender.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Little 'Melia bit her lip, and turned scarlet.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Mr. Dick, dearie," said Mrs. Welwyn,
-coming to the rescue. "He looked in this morning."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"What for?" asked Tilly, groping for the hatpin.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I don't know. I did n't see him," admitted
-her mother reluctantly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I do," said 'Melia, having decided to get things
-over at once. "He left a letter for you, Sis."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Tilly rose to her feet again, keeping her back
-to her audience.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Where is it?" she enquired unsteadily.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Here," said Amelia, with a hand in the pocket
-of her pinafore.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Put it on the table," said Tilly, standing on
-tiptoe while she patted her brown hair into
-position before the glass. "I'll read it presently."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"There's the front-door bell!" said Mrs. Welwyn
-nervously. "What are we to do if it's Russell again?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Lock the door," said Amelia promptly.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I don't know, I'm sure," said Mrs. Welwyn
-doubtfully. "I wonder what the law is. I wish
-Daddy was in." She considered, perplexed.
-"Anyhow, I'll go down and see. Come with
-me, 'Melia," she added tactfully.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The pair slipped out of the room and went
-downstairs, leaving Tilly alone with her letter.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Supposing he rushes in the moment we open
-the door?" whispered Amelia, as they consulted
-on the mat. "What then?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"We'll put the chain up first, and then open
-the door a crack," said Mrs. Welwyn.</p>
-<p class="pnext">This procedure was adopted, with the result
-that Mr. Mainwaring and Lady Adela, waiting
-patiently upon the steps outside, were eventually
-confronted, after certain mysterious clankings
-had taken place within, with a vision of two
-apprehensive countenances, one childish and the
-other middle-aged, set one upon another against
-a black background in a frame eight feet high and
-three inches wide. It was but a glimpse, for the
-vision was hardly embodied when it faded from
-view with uncanny suddenness: and after a
-further fantasia upon the chain, the door was
-tugged open, to reveal the shrinking figures of
-Mrs. Welwyn and Amelia.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Good-morning, Mrs. Welwyn," said Lady
-Adela. "I hope you will forgive this early call,
-but we are anxious to have a talk with--er--Miss Welwyn."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Miss Welwyn's agitated parent ushered the
-visitors into the dining-room, bidding Amelia run
-upstairs and give warning of the coming
-interview. Resistance did not occur to her.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Amelia found her sister sitting motionless on
-the edge of a chair, with her arms upon the table.
-In her hands she held an open letter, which she
-was not reading. Her grey eyes, wide open,
-unblinking, were fixed on vacancy. Her lips moved,
-as if repeating some formula.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Amelia touched her softly on the arm.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Tilly," she whispered, "they want to see you."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Tilly roused herself.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Who?" she asked dreamily.</p>
-<p class="pnext">The question was answered by the appearance
-in the doorway of Lady Adela, followed by her
-husband. Tilly rose, thrust the letter into her
-belt, and greeted her visitors.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"How do you do?" she said mechanically.
-"Won't you sit down?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Lady Adela, singling out that well-tried friend
-of yesterday, the sofa, sank down upon it.
-Mr. Mainwaring remained standing behind. Little
-'Melia, after one sympathetic glance in the
-direction of her sister, gently closed the door and
-joined her mother on the landing outside.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"'Melia," announced that harassed châtelaine,
-"there's the front door again! It must be
-Stillbottle this time. Supposing he meets <em class="italics">them</em>?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"It don't signify if he does," replied her shrewd
-little daughter. "They have met once already.
-Still, we may as well keep him out."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mother and daughter accordingly proceeded
-to a repetition of their previous performance
-with the door-chain. As before, the front door
-was ultimately flung open with abject expressions
-of regret.</p>
-<p class="pnext">On the steps stood a small, sturdy, spectacled
-young clergyman.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Oh, good-morning," he exclaimed. "I am
-so sorry to trouble you, but I have been asked by
-a friend to look at your vacant room. Might I
-do it now?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">This was familiar ground, and Mrs. Welwyn
-escorted the stranger upstairs with a sigh of
-relief.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"My friend proposes to move in almost
-immediately," explained Mr. Rylands, mounting at a
-distressingly rapid pace, "if they are
-satisfactory. That is--of course"--he added in a
-panic--"I am sure they will be satisfactory.
-But my friend proposes to move in at once."</p>
-<p class="pnext">His approval of the late lair of the bellicose
-Pumpherston when--almost before--the panting
-Mrs. Welwyn had pulled up the blind and
-unveiled its glories, erred on the side of the
-ecstatic. The terms asked for the dingy but
-speckless apartment were not excessive, and
-Mr. Rylands agreed to them at once.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"May I ask, sir," enquired Mrs. Welwyn, as
-they descended the staircase--"did some one
-recommend us? We like to know who our friends are."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Mr. Rylands was quite prepared for this question.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"As a matter of fact," he explained volubly,
-"I believe the gentleman saw the card in the
-window; and being particularly fond of Russell
-Square, and--and its associations, and so on, he
-decided to come and reside here. He will send his
-luggage round this afternoon."</p>
-<p class="pnext">By this time they had passed the closed
-drawing-room door and were in the hall again.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Will you give me the gentleman's name, sir,
-please?" asked Mrs. Welwyn, in obedience to a
-reminding gleam in the eye of her small daughter,
-who was standing full in the open doorway,
-apparently with the intention of collaring
-Mr. Rylands low. "I suppose he can give a reference,
-or pay a week in advance? That's our usual--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Certainly, by all means," said Rylands
-hurriedly. Like most men, he found it almost as
-delicate and embarrassing an undertaking to
-discuss money matters with a woman as to make
-love to her. "In point of fact," he continued,
-searching furtively in his pocket, "my friend
-would like to pay a month in advance. He is
-anxious to make quite sure of the rooms,
-so--oh, I beg your pardon!" (This to little 'Melia,
-into whom he had cannoned heavily in a
-misguided but characteristic attempt to walk out
-of the house backwards.) "<em class="italics">Good</em>-morning!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">And the Reverend Godfrey Rylands, thrusting
-a warm bank-note into Mrs. Welwyn's palm,
-stumbled down the steps into the Square, and
-set off at a most unclerical pace in the direction of
-Piccadilly. He was going to lunch, it will be
-remembered, with Connie Carmyle.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"He never left the new lodger's name," recollected
-Mrs. Welwyn, too late.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"No, but he left a five-pound note," said
-practical Amelia.</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em">
-</div>
-<p class="center medium pfirst">II</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">Meanwhile, upstairs, Lady Adela was concluding
-a stately and well-balanced harangue. Of her
-two auditors Mr. Mainwaring appeared to be
-paying more attention. He looked supremely
-unhappy.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Tilly sat bolt upright on a hard chair, staring
-straight through Lady Adela at the opposite wall.
-Occasionally her hand stole to her belt. It is
-regrettable to have to add, in the interests of
-strict veracity, that the greater part of Lady
-Adela's carefully reasoned and studiously
-moderate address was flowing in at one ear and out at
-the other. Tilly had no clear idea that she was
-being spoken to; she was only vaguely conscious
-that any one was speaking at all. All her thoughts
-were concentrated on the last page of Dicky's
-letter--all she had read so far. She sat quite
-still, occasionally nodding intelligently to put
-her visitors at their ease. Once or twice her lips
-moved, as if repeating some formula.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Do not imagine, Miss Welwyn," Lady Adela
-was saying, "that we are in any way angry or
-resentful at what has occurred. We are merely
-grieved, but at the same time <em class="italics">relieved</em>. So far from
-wishing you ill in consequence of this attempt
-upon your part to--to better yourself, my
-husband and I are here to offer to do something for
-you. You must not think that we want to be
-unkind or harsh. This is a difficult and painful
-interview for both of us--"</p>
-<p class="pnext">"For all of us, Miss Welwyn," murmured Mr. Mainwaring.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You appreciate that fact, I hope, Miss Welwyn,"
-said Lady Adela in a slightly louder tone;
-for the girl made no sign.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Tilly nodded her head absently.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"He loves me! He loves me!" she murmured
-to herself. "He loves me still!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Lady Adela ploughed on. She was a kindly
-woman, and in her heart she felt sorry for Tilly.
-Not that this fact assisted her to understand
-Tilly's point of view, or to remember what Dicky
-had never forgotten, namely, that the girl before
-her was a lady. She laboured, too, under a
-grievous disadvantage. Deep feeling was to her a
-thing unknown. She had never thrilled with
-tremulous rapture. The sighing of a wounded
-spirit had no meaning for her. Her heart was a
-well-regulated and rhythmatic organ, and had
-always beaten in accordance with the laws of what
-its owner called common sense. It had never
-fluttered or stood still.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Lady Adela had married her husband because
-he was rich and she was the youngest daughter of
-a great but impoverished house; and after the
-singular but ineradicable habit of her sex, she
-had founded her entire conception of life upon
-her own experience of it. To her, marriage was a
-matter neither of romance nor affinity. It was
-a contract: a sacred contract, perhaps,--in her
-own case it had even been fully choral,--but a
-mere matter of business for all that. To her, her
-son's ideal bride was a well-bred young woman
-with the same tastes and social circle as himself,
-and possibly a little money of her own. It had
-never occurred to her that Love contained any
-other elements. Accordingly she ploughed on;
-trying to be fair; quite prepared to be generous.
-She offered to "advance" Tilly in life. She talked
-vaguely of setting her up "in a little business." She
-remarked several times that she was anxious
-to do the right thing, adding as in duty bound
-that certain conditions would be attached to any
-arrangement which might be made, "the nature
-of which you can probably imagine for yourself,
-my dear." She begged Tilly to think things over,
-and assured her that no reasonable request would
-be refused. Altogether Lady Adela's was a very
-conciliatory and well-balanced proposition. Had
-it been made by an encroaching railway company
-to a landed proprietor in compensation for
-compulsory ejection from his property, or by a
-repentant motorist to an irate henwife, it might
-fairly have been regarded as a model of justice
-and equity. As a scheme for snatching an amiable
-but weak-minded young man from the clutches
-of a designing harpy, it erred if anything on the
-side of generosity. But as a tactful attempt to
-convey to a young girl the information that she
-could never marry the man she loved, it was a
-piece of gross brutality. But Lady Adela did not
-know this.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Fortunately Tilly heard little or nothing.
-Occasionally a stray sentence focused itself on her
-mind. "My husband and I communicated our
-views to our son this morning," was one.
-"Impart our decision <em class="italics">ourselves</em> ... avoid the
-necessity of a painful interview ... unnecessary
-correspondence," and the like--the disconnected
-phrases fell upon her ears; but throughout it all the
-girl sat with her head in the clouds, fingering her
-letter and hugging her secret. Once Lady Adela,
-in a flight of oratory, half-rose from her seat.
-Tilly, with a vague hope that the call was over,
-put out a hand, which was ignored.</p>
-<p class="pnext">But the interview came to an end at last; and
-Lady Adela, conscious of a difficult task
-adequately and tactfully performed, but secretly
-troubled by Tilly's continuous apathy, rose to
-her feet. Tilly mechanically stood up, too.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Good-morning, Miss Welwyn," said Lady
-Adela, offering her hand. "We have to thank you
-for a patient hearing."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Tilly smiled politely, shook hands, but said
-nothing. Mr. Mainwaring, his heart sore for the
-girl, timidly signalled to his wife to leave her in
-peace.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Do not trouble to show us out," said Lady
-Adela; and departed imposingly through the door.</p>
-<p class="pnext">With a long sigh of relief Tilly dropped back
-into her seat. Suddenly she was aware that she
-was not yet alone. Mr. Mainwaring had lingered
-in the room. He came forward now, and took
-the girl's hand in both of his.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"My dear, my dear!" he said quickly. "I
-wish you were my daughter. God give you a
-good husband!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">There was an ominous cough upon the landing
-outside; and the old gentleman, recalled to a
-sense of duty, trotted obediently out of the room,
-closing the door behind him.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Tilly snatched the letter from her belt.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"He loves me!" she murmured. "He loves
-me! He loves me still!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">She was not referring to Mr. Mainwaring senior.</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center large pfirst" id="the-final-freak">CHAPTER XXVI</p>
-<p class="center medium pnext">THE FINAL FREAK</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst">Tilly finished writing her letter, signed and
-addressed it, and leaned back in her chair.</p>
-<p class="pnext">She had just declined to marry Dicky Mainwaring.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"That's done, anyhow," she said to herself,
-with the instinctive cheerfulness of those who are
-born plucky. "Now I'll go out and post it before
-the Family come home, and then perhaps a
-little walk round Bloomsbury will give me an
-appetite for tea." But as Tilly rose briskly to
-her feet her eye fell upon the letter from Dicky,
-lying beside the answer to it which she had just
-written. For the tenth time she picked it up and
-re-read certain passages.</p>
-<p class="pnext"><em class="italics">I don't think I ever loved you as I did yesterday
-afternoon. As I watched you fighting that brave,
-uphill battle of yours in the face of the most awful
-odds--Mother and Sylvia are awfully odd, you
-know--I suddenly realised how utterly and
-entirely I had become part of you--or you of me, if
-you like. I was on your side in that plucky,
-preposterous, transparent little conspiracy from start
-to finish, and when the crash came I think I was
-harder hit than anybody. The only complaint I
-have to make is that you did not take me into your
-confidence. I could have put you up to one or two
-tips which might have made all the difference--you
-see, I have known Mother and Sylvia longer than
-you have--and we could have enjoyed the fruits of
-victory together. Still, I forgive you for your
-obstinacy in trying to put the enterprise through
-single-handed. It was very characteristic of you, and
-anything that is characteristic of you is naturally extra
-precious to me. So don't imagine that yesterday's
-little interparental unpleasantness is going to make
-any difference to you and me--to You and Me!</em></p>
-<p class="pnext">"To You--and Me!" echoed Tilly softly.</p>
-<p class="pnext"><em class="italics">... You will probably receive a call from my
-esteemed parents. They mean well, but I mistrust
-their judgment. They will probably intimate that
-we must never see one another again, or something
-of that kind. I am afraid it is just possible that my
-dear old mother will offer you compensation, of a
-sort. If she does, try to forgive her. She does not
-understand. Not at present, that is. One day she
-will laugh at herself--which will establish a
-record--and apologise to you for having entertained
-the idea.</em></p>
-<p class="pnext">"No, she won't!" observed Tilly at this point.</p>
-<p class="pnext"><em class="italics">... It seems ridiculous, does n't it, that any one
-should seriously set out to appeal to you to "abandon
-your demands" upon me? As if things were not
-entirely the other way. It is I who am making
-demands upon you, dearest. The idea! To lecture you
-as if you were some designing little adventuress,
-instead of the most wonderful worker of miracles
-that ever lived--the girl who made bricks without
-straw--the girl who made a man of Dicky Mainwaring!</em></p>
-<p class="pnext"><em class="italics">... So do not be afraid with any amazement--do
-you know where that quotation comes from?--at
-anything my mother may say. She will probably
-pile on the agony a bit about the various kinds of
-trouble that await a couple who marry out of different
-social circles, and punk of that kind. She is a
-dear thing, my old mother, but very feminine. When
-she wants to argue about anything she always
-begins by begging the question. Besides, our love is
-big enough to square any circle, social or otherwise.
-So don't you worry, little girl. Leave things to me,
-and--</em></p>
-<p class="pnext">Tilly read more slowly and yet more slowly, and
-then stopped reading altogether. Then she rose
-slowly to her feet, crossed the room, and stood
-gazing into the fire. She did not know what
-begging the question meant, but she had other food
-for reflection. Connie Carmyle was right. When
-it comes to a pinch, letters are useless things, and
-being useless are, more often than not, dangerous.</p>
-<p class="pnext">On the mantelpiece stood two framed
-photographs--one of Tilly, the other of Dicky. The
-original of the first addressed the second.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"I wish you had n't put in that last bit, Dicky
-dear ... '<em class="italics">Abandon my demands</em>' ... '<em class="italics">A little
-adventuress</em>.' ... That's what I am, when all is
-said and done. A little adventuress, trying to
-better herself! Lady Adela is right and we were
-wrong. What else could you think of me, Dicky,
-once you married me and found me out--a silly,
-hysterical, common little chit? ... There's your
-letter, dear. I dare say I could have got quite a
-lot for it in a court of law; but some adventuresses
-are n't up to sample. They have no spirit."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Dicky's much-read epistle dropped into the
-flames, and Tilly turned with sudden briskness
-from her lover's photograph to her own.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"As for you, Tilly Welwyn," she observed
-severely, "just remember that you are only an
-ordinary, hard-working, matter-of-fact little
-London work-girl. You can put all fancy notions
-about fairy princes and happy-ever-after out of
-your head. You are getting a big girl now, you
-know. You must live your life and go your own
-way; and sometimes--only sometimes, mind!--when
-you are feeling downhearted and up against
-it, I'll allow you to let your thoughts go back to
-the best man that ever walked; and although you
-may cry a bit, you will thank God you did not
-spoil his life by marrying him."</p>
-<p class="pnext">The doors leading onto the landing creaked,
-and Amelia peeped cautiously in. Tilly started
-guiltily. None of us like to be caught talking to
-ourselves. The habit savours of exclusiveness--and
-other things.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Tilly dear," said little 'Melia listlessly, "the
-new lodger has come with his luggage. Could you
-give him a hand with it? Everybody is out, and
-it's rather heavy for me."</p>
-<p class="pnext">"All right," said Tilly readily. "I'll be down in
-half a minute."</p>
-<p class="pnext">Amelia disappeared, leaving the doors open;
-and Tilly hastily assumed a business-like yet
-hospitable expression, suitable for the welcoming
-of a second-floor.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"One thing more, though, my girl," she
-remarked sternly, releasing her features for a
-moment in order to address her own reflection in the
-overmantle mirror. "Just remember that this
-will require a real <em class="italics">effort</em>. It's all very well to feel
-heroic just now, and talk about giving him up,
-and living your own life, and so on; but it won't
-be easy. You will have to put your back into it.
-Supposing you meet him in the street one day?
-What then? Can you walk past him? You know
-you are as weak as water where he is concerned.
-What are you going to do about it?"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Tilly met her own eyes in the glass, and looked
-very determined. The eyes in the glass responded
-by filling with tears. Tilly turned away
-impatiently from this disloyal exhibition.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"Very well, then," she said. "If you are as
-weak as that about it, you must just make up
-your mind to <em class="italics">avoid</em> him--that's all. There's
-nothing else for it. You must never see him
-again.... And I love him so!" she added
-inconsequently.... "Poor Tilly!"</p>
-<p class="pnext">Little 'Melia appeared in the doorway again.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"He's bringing up his portmanteau," she
-announced breathlessly, and vanished.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Tilly turned towards the door. Laborious steps
-were audible upon the staircase, as of one
-ascending with a heavy load. Presently a man in a
-great-coat passed the open doorway. On his left
-shoulder he carried a large portmanteau, which hid his
-face. He passed up the second-floor staircase and
-out of sight.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Tilly, hot and cold by turns, stood shaking in
-the middle of the floor.</p>
-<p class="pnext">There was a bump overhead. Then steps
-descending, slowly. He was coming back.</p>
-<p class="pnext">Tilly shut her eyes tight for a full half-minute;
-then opened them and tottered forward with a
-cry.</p>
-<p class="pnext">In the doorway--laughing, joyous,
-open-armed--stood The Freak.</p>
-<p class="pnext">"You foolish, foolish Tilly!" he said; and
-caught her as she fell.</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst small">THE END</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst small white-space-pre-line">The Riverside Press<br />
-CAMBRIDGE . MASSACHUSETTS<br />
-U . S . A</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 6em">
-</div>
-<p class="center large pfirst">By Ian Hay</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="left medium pfirst white-space-pre-line">THE FIRST HUNDRED THOUSAND.<br />
-SCALLY: THE STORY OF A PERFECT GENTLEMAN. With Frontispiece.<br />
-A KNIGHT ON WHEELS.<br />
-HAPPY-GO-LUCKY. Illustrated by Charles E. Brock.<br />
-A SAFETY MATCH. With frontispiece.<br />
-A MAN'S MAN. With frontispiece.<br />
-THE RIGHT STUFF. With frontispiece.</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="center medium pfirst white-space-pre-line">HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY<br />
-BOSTON AND NEW YORK</p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 6em">
-</div>
-<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- -->
-<div class="backmatter">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst" id="pg-end-line">*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK <span>HAPPY-GO-LUCKY</span> ***</p>
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