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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/6684.txt b/6684.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0edd187 --- /dev/null +++ b/6684.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9174 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Uneasy Money, by P. G. Wodehouse + +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 Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Uneasy Money + +Author: P. G. Wodehouse + +Posting Date: August 26, 2012 [EBook #6684] +Release Date: October, 2004 +First Posted: January 12, 2003 +[Last updated: April 20, 2013] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK UNEASY MONEY *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne L. Shell, Tom Allen, Charles Franks +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + + + + + + +UNEASY MONEY + + + +By P. G. Wodehouse + + + + +1 + + +In a day in June, at the hour when London moves abroad in quest +of lunch, a young man stood at the entrance of the Bandolero +Restaurant looking earnestly up Shaftesbury Avenue--a large young +man in excellent condition, with a pleasant, good-humoured, brown, +clean-cut face. He paid no attention to the stream of humanity +that flowed past him. His mouth was set and his eyes wore a +serious, almost a wistful expression. He was frowning slightly. +One would have said that here was a man with a secret sorrow. + +William FitzWilliam Delamere Chalmers, Lord Dawlish, had no secret +sorrow. All that he was thinking of at that moment was the best +method of laying a golf ball dead in front of the Palace Theatre. +It was his habit to pass the time in mental golf when Claire +Fenwick was late in keeping her appointments with him. On one +occasion she had kept him waiting so long that he had been able to +do nine holes, starting at the Savoy Grill and finishing up near +Hammersmith. His was a simple mind, able to amuse itself with +simple things. + +As he stood there, gazing into the middle distance, an individual +of dishevelled aspect sidled up, a vagrant of almost the maximum +seediness, from whose midriff there protruded a trayful of a +strange welter of collar-studs, shoe-laces, rubber rings, +buttonhooks, and dying roosters. For some minutes he had been +eyeing his lordship appraisingly from the edge of the kerb, and +now, secure in the fact that there seemed to be no policeman in +the immediate vicinity, he anchored himself in front of him and +observed that he had a wife and four children at home, all +starving. + +This sort of thing was always happening to Lord Dawlish. There was +something about him, some atmosphere of unaffected kindliness, +that invited it. + +In these days when everything, from the shape of a man's hat to +his method of dealing with asparagus, is supposed to be an index +to character, it is possible to form some estimate of Lord Dawlish +from the fact that his vigil in front of the Bandolero had been +expensive even before the advent of the Benedict with the studs +and laces. In London, as in New York, there are spots where it is +unsafe for a man of yielding disposition to stand still, and the +corner of Shaftesbury Avenue and Piccadilly Circus is one of them. +Scrubby, impecunious men drift to and fro there, waiting for the +gods to provide something easy; and the prudent man, conscious of +the possession of loose change, whizzes through the danger zone at +his best speed, 'like one that on a lonesome road doth walk in +fear and dread, and having once turned round walks on, and turns +no more his head, because he knows a frightful fiend doth close +behind him tread.' In the seven minutes he had been waiting two +frightful fiends closed in on Lord Dawlish, requesting loans of +five shillings till Wednesday week and Saturday week respectively, +and he had parted with the money without a murmur. + +A further clue to his character is supplied by the fact that both +these needy persons seemed to know him intimately, and that each +called him Bill. All Lord Dawlish's friends called him Bill, and +he had a catholic list of them, ranging from men whose names were +in 'Debrett' to men whose names were on the notice boards of +obscure clubs in connexion with the non-payment of dues. He was +the sort of man one instinctively calls Bill. + +The anti-race-suicide enthusiast with the rubber rings did not call +Lord Dawlish Bill, but otherwise his manner was intimate. His +lordship's gaze being a little slow in returning from the middle +distance--for it was not a matter to be decided carelessly and +without thought, this problem of carrying the length of Shaftesbury +Avenue with a single brassy shot--he repeated the gossip from the +home. Lord Dawlish regarded him thoughtfully. + +'It could be done,' he said, 'but you'd want a bit of pull on it. +I'm sorry; I didn't catch what you said.' + +The other obliged with his remark for the third time, with +increased pathos, for constant repetition was making him almost +believe it himself. + +'Four starving children?' + +'Four, guv'nor, so help me!' + +'I suppose you don't get much time for golf then, what?' said Lord +Dawlish, sympathetically. + +It was precisely three days, said the man, mournfully inflating a +dying rooster, since his offspring had tasted bread. + +This did not touch Lord Dawlish deeply. He was not very fond of +bread. But it seemed to be troubling the poor fellow with the +studs a great deal, so, realizing that tastes differ and that +there is no accounting for them, he looked at him commiseratingly. + +'Of course, if they like bread, that makes it rather rotten, +doesn't it? What are you going to do about it?' + +'Buy a dying rooster, guv'nor,' he advised. 'Causes great fun and +laughter.' + +Lord Dawlish eyed the strange fowl without enthusiasm. + +'No,' he said, with a slight shudder. + +There was a pause. The situation had the appearance of being at a +deadlock. + +'I'll tell you what,' said Lord Dawlish, with the air of one who, +having pondered, has been rewarded with a great idea: 'the fact +is, I really don't want to buy anything. You seem by bad luck to +be stocked up with just the sort of things I wouldn't be seen dead +in a ditch with. I can't stand rubber rings, never could. I'm not +really keen on buttonhooks. And I don't want to hurt your +feelings, but I think that squeaking bird of yours is about the +beastliest thing I ever met. So suppose I give you a shilling and +call it square, what?' + +'Gawd bless yer, guv'nor.' + +'Not at all. You'll be able to get those children of yours some +bread--I expect you can get a lot of bread for a shilling. Do they +really like it? Rum kids!' + +And having concluded this delicate financial deal Lord Dawlish +turned, the movement bringing him face to face with a tall girl in +white. + +During the business talk which had just come to an end this girl +had been making her way up the side street which forms a short cut +between Coventry Street and the Bandolero, and several admirers of +feminine beauty who happened to be using the same route had almost +dislocated their necks looking after her. She was a strikingly +handsome girl. She was tall and willowy. Her eyes, shaded by her +hat, were large and grey. Her nose was small and straight, her +mouth, though somewhat hard, admirably shaped, and she carried +herself magnificently. One cannot blame the policeman on duty in +Leicester Square for remarking to a cabman as she passed that he +envied the bloke that that was going to meet. + +Bill Dawlish was this fortunate bloke, but, from the look of him +as he caught sight of her, one would have said that he did not +appreciate his luck. The fact of the matter was that he had only +just finished giving the father of the family his shilling, and he +was afraid that Claire had seen him doing it. For Claire, dear +girl, was apt to be unreasonable about these little generosities +of his. He cast a furtive glance behind him in the hope that the +disseminator of expiring roosters had vanished, but the man was +still at his elbow. Worse, he faced them, and in a hoarse but +carrying voice he was instructing Heaven to bless his benefactor. + +'Halloa, Claire darling!' said Lord Dawlish, with a sort of +sheepish breeziness. 'Here you are.' + +Claire was looking after the stud merchant, as, grasping his +wealth, he scuttled up the avenue. + +'Only a bob,' his lordship hastened to say. 'Rather a sad case, +don't you know. Squads of children at home demanding bread. Didn't +want much else, apparently, but were frightfully keen on bread.' + +'He has just gone into a public-house.' + +'He may have gone to telephone or something, what?' + +'I wish,' said Claire, fretfully, leading the way down the +grillroom stairs, 'that you wouldn't let all London sponge on you +like this. I keep telling you not to. I should have thought that +if any one needed to keep what little money he has got it was +you.' + +Certainly Lord Dawlish would have been more prudent not to have +parted with even eleven shillings, for he was not a rich man. +Indeed, with the single exception of the Earl of Wetherby, whose +finances were so irregular that he could not be said to possess an +income at all, he was the poorest man of his rank in the British +Isles. + +It was in the days of the Regency that the Dawlish coffers first +began to show signs of cracking under the strain, in the era of +the then celebrated Beau Dawlish. Nor were his successors backward +in the spending art. A breezy disregard for the preservation of +the pence was a family trait. Bill was at Cambridge when his +predecessor in the title, his Uncle Philip, was performing the +concluding exercises of the dissipation of the Dawlish doubloons, +a feat which he achieved so neatly that when he died there was +just enough cash to pay the doctors, and no more. Bill found +himself the possessor of that most ironical thing, a moneyless +title. He was then twenty-three. + +Until six months before, when he had become engaged to Claire +Fenwick, he had found nothing to quarrel with in his lot. He was +not the type to waste time in vain regrets. His tastes were +simple. As long as he could afford to belong to one or two golf +clubs and have something over for those small loans which, in +certain of the numerous circles in which he moved, were the +inevitable concomitant of popularity, he was satisfied. And this +modest ambition had been realized for him by a group of what he +was accustomed to refer to as decent old bucks, who had installed +him as secretary of that aristocratic and exclusive club, Brown's +in St James Street, at an annual salary of four hundred pounds. +With that wealth, added to free lodging at one of the best clubs +in London, perfect health, a steadily-diminishing golf handicap, +and a host of friends in every walk of life, Bill had felt that it +would be absurd not to be happy and contented. + +But Claire had made a difference. There was no question of that. +In the first place, she resolutely declined to marry him on four +hundred pounds a year. She scoffed at four hundred pounds a year. +To hear her talk, you would have supposed that she had been +brought up from the cradle to look on four hundred pounds a year +as small change to be disposed of in tips and cab fares. That in +itself would have been enough to sow doubts in Bill's mind as to +whether he had really got all the money that a reasonable man +needed; and Claire saw to it that these doubts sprouted, by +confining her conversation on the occasions of their meeting +almost entirely to the great theme of money, with its minor +sub-divisions of How to Get It, Why Don't You Get It? and I'm Sick +and Tired of Not Having It. + +She developed this theme to-day, not only on the stairs leading to +the grillroom, but even after they had seated themselves at their +table. It was a relief to Bill when the arrival of the waiter with +food caused a break in the conversation and enabled him adroitly +to change the subject. + +'What have you been doing this morning?' he asked. + +'I went to see Maginnis at the theatre.' + +'Oh!' + +'I had a wire from him asking me to call. They want me to take up +Claudia Winslow's part in the number one company.' + +'That's good.' + +'Why?' + +'Well--er--what I mean--well, isn't it? What I mean is, leading +part, and so forth.' + +'In a touring company?' + +'Yes, I see what you mean,' said Lord Dawlish, who didn't at all. +He thought rather highly of the number one companies that hailed +from the theatre of which Mr Maginnis was proprietor. + +'And anyhow, I ought to have had the part in the first place +instead of when the tour's half over. They are at Southampton this +week. He wants me to join them there and go on to Portsmouth with +them.' + +'You'll like Portsmouth.' + +'Why?' + +'Well--er--good links quite near.' + +'You know I don't play golf.' + +'Nor do you. I was forgetting. Still, it's quite a jolly place.' + +'It's a horrible place. I loathe it. I've half a mind not to go.' + +'Oh, I don't know.' + +'What do you mean?' + +Lord Dawlish was feeling a little sorry for himself. Whatever he +said seemed to be the wrong thing. This evidently was one of the +days on which Claire was not so sweet-tempered as on some other +days. It crossed his mind that of late these irritable moods of +hers had grown more frequent. It was not her fault, poor girl! he +told himself. She had rather a rotten time. + +It was always Lord Dawlish's habit on these occasions to make this +excuse for Claire. It was such a satisfactory excuse. It covered +everything. But, as a matter of fact, the rather rotten time which +she was having was not such a very rotten one. Reducing it to its +simplest terms, and forgetting for the moment that she was an +extraordinarily beautiful girl--which his lordship found it +impossible to do--all that it amounted to was that, her mother +having but a small income, and existence in the West Kensington +flat being consequently a trifle dull for one with a taste for the +luxuries of life, Claire had gone on the stage. By birth she +belonged to a class of which the female members are seldom called +upon to earn money at all, and that was one count of her grievance +against Fate. Another was that she had not done as well on the +stage as she had expected to do. When she became engaged to Bill +she had reached a point where she could obtain without difficulty +good parts in the touring companies of London successes, but +beyond that it seemed it was impossible for her to soar. It was +not, perhaps, a very exhilarating life, but, except to the eyes of +love, there was nothing tragic about it. It was the cumulative +effect of having a mother in reduced circumstances and grumbling +about it, of being compelled to work and grumbling about that, and +of achieving in her work only a semi-success and grumbling about +that also, that--backed by her looks--enabled Claire to give quite +a number of people, and Bill Dawlish in particular, the impression +that she was a modern martyr, only sustained by her indomitable +courage. + +So Bill, being requested in a peevish voice to explain what he +meant by saying, 'Oh, I don't know,' condoned the peevishness. He +then bent his mind to the task of trying to ascertain what he had +meant. + +'Well,' he said, 'what I mean is, if you don't show up won't it be +rather a jar for old friend Maginnis? Won't he be apt to foam at +the mouth a bit and stop giving you parts in his companies?' + +'I'm sick of trying to please Maginnis. What's the good? He never +gives me a chance in London. I'm sick of being always on tour. I'm +sick of everything.' + +'It's the heat,' said Lord Dawlish, most injudiciously. + +'It isn't the heat. It's you!' + +'Me? What have I done?' + +'It's what you've not done. Why can't you exert yourself and make +some money?' + +Lord Dawlish groaned a silent groan. By a devious route, but with +unfailing precision, they had come homing back to the same old +subject. + +'We have been engaged for six months, and there seems about as +much chance of our ever getting married as of--I can't think of +anything unlikely enough. We shall go on like this till we're +dead.' + +'But, my dear girl!' + +'I wish you wouldn't talk to me as if you were my grandfather. +What were you going to say?' + +'Only that we can get married this afternoon if you'll say the +word.' + +'Oh, don't let us go into all that again! I'm not going to marry +on four hundred a year and spend the rest of my life in a pokey +little flat on the edge of London. Why can't you make more money?' + +'I did have a dash at it, you know. I waylaid old Bodger--Colonel +Bodger, on the committee of the club, you know--and suggested over +a whisky-and-soda that the management of Brown's would be behaving +like sportsmen if they bumped my salary up a bit, and the old boy +nearly strangled himself trying to suck down Scotch and laugh at +the same time. I give you my word, he nearly expired on the +smoking-room floor. When he came to he said that he wished I +wouldn't spring my good things on him so suddenly, as he had a +weak heart. He said they were only paying me my present salary +because they liked me so much. You know, it was decent of the old +boy to say that.' + +'What is the good of being liked by the men in your club if you +won't make any use of it?' + +'How do you mean?' + +'There are endless things you could do. You could have got Mr +Breitstein elected at Brown's if you had liked. They wouldn't have +dreamed of blackballing any one proposed by a popular man like you, +and Mr Breitstein asked you personally to use your influence--you +told me so.' + +'But, my dear girl--I mean my darling--Breitstein! He's the limit! +He's the worst bounder in London.' + +'He's also one of the richest men in London. He would have done +anything for you. And you let him go! You insulted him!' + +'Insulted him?' + +'Didn't you send him an admission ticket to the Zoo?' + +'Oh, well, yes, I did do that. He thanked me and went the +following Sunday. Amazing how these rich Johnnies love getting +something for nothing. There was that old American I met down at +Marvis Bay last year--' + +'You threw away a wonderful chance of making all sorts of money. +Why, a single tip from Mr Breitstein would have made your +fortune.' + +'But, Claire, you know, there are some things--what I mean is, if +they like me at Brown's, it's awfully decent of them and all that, +but I couldn't take advantage of it to plant a fellow like +Breitstein on them. It wouldn't be playing the game.' + +'Oh, nonsense!' + +Lord Dawlish looked unhappy, but said nothing. This matter of Mr +Breitstein had been touched upon by Claire in previous conversations, +and it was a subject for which he had little liking. Experience had +taught him that none of the arguments which seemed so conclusive +to him--to wit, that the financier had on two occasions only just +escaped imprisonment for fraud, and, what was worse, made a +noise when he drank soup, like water running out of a bathtub--had +the least effect upon her. The only thing to do when Mr Breitstein +came up in the course of chitchat over the festive board was to +stay quiet until he blew over. + +'That old American you met at Marvis Bay,' said Claire, her memory +flitting back to the remark which she had interrupted; 'well, +there's another case. You could easily have got him to do +something for you.' + +'Claire, really!' said his goaded lordship, protestingly. 'How on +earth? I only met the man on the links.' + +'But you were very nice to him. You told me yourself that you +spent hours helping him to get rid of his slice, whatever that +is.' + +'We happened to be the only two down there at the time, so I was +as civil as I could manage. If you're marooned at a Cornish +seaside resort out of the season with a man, you can't spend your +time dodging him. And this man had a slice that fascinated me. I +felt at the time that it was my mission in life to cure him, so I +had a dash at it. But I don't see how on the strength of that I +could expect the old boy to adopt me. He probably forgot my +existence after I had left.' + +'You said you met him in London a month or two afterwards, and he +hadn't forgotten you.' + +'Well, yes, that's true. He was walking up the Haymarket and I was +walking down. I caught his eye, and he nodded and passed on. I +don't see how I could construe that into an invitation to go and +sit on his lap and help myself out of his pockets.' + +'You couldn't expect him to go out of his way to help you; but +probably if you had gone to him he would have done something.' + +'You haven't the pleasure of Mr Ira Nutcombe's acquaintance, +Claire, or you wouldn't talk like that. He wasn't the sort of man +you could get things out of. He didn't even tip the caddie. +Besides, can't you see what I mean? I couldn't trade on a chance +acquaintance of the golf links to--' + +'That is just what I complain of in you. You're too diffident.' + +'It isn't diffidence exactly. Talking of old Nutcombe, I was +speaking to Gates again the other night. He was telling me about +America. There's a lot of money to be made over there, you know, +and the committee owes me a holiday. They would give me a few +weeks off any time I liked. + +'What do you say? Shall I pop over and have a look round? I might +happen to drop into something. Gates was telling me about fellows +he knew who had dropped into things in New York.' + +'What's the good of putting yourself to all the trouble and +expense of going to America? You can easily make all you want in +London if you will only try. It isn't as if you had no chances. +You have more chances than almost any man in town. With your title +you could get all the directorships in the City that you wanted.' + +'Well, the fact is, this business of taking directorships has +never quite appealed to me. I don't know anything about the game, +and I should probably run up against some wildcat company. I can't +say I like the directorship wheeze much. It's the idea of knowing +that one's name would be being used as a bait. Every time I saw it +on a prospectus I should feel like a trout fly.' + +Claire bit her lip. + +'It's so exasperating!' she broke out. 'When I first told my +friends that I was engaged to Lord Dawlish they were tremendously +impressed. They took it for granted that you must have lots of +money. Now I have to keep explaining to them that the reason we +don't get married is that we can't afford to. I'm almost as badly +off as poor Polly Davis who was in the Heavenly Waltz Company with +me when she married that man, Lord Wetherby. A man with a title +has no right not to have money. It makes the whole thing farcical. + +'If I were in your place I should have tried a hundred things by +now, but you always have some silly objection. Why couldn't you, +for instance, have taken on the agency of that what-d'you-call-it +car?' + +'What I called it would have been nothing to what the poor devils +who bought it would have called it.' + +'You could have sold hundreds of them, and the company would have +given you any commission you asked. You know just the sort of +people they wanted to get in touch with.' + +'But, darling, how could I? Planting Breitstein on the club would +have been nothing compared with sowing these horrors about London. +I couldn't go about the place sticking my pals with a car which, I +give you my honest word, was stuck together with chewing-gum and +tied up with string.' + +'Why not? It would be their fault if they bought a car that wasn't +any good. Why should you have to worry once you had it sold?' + +It was not Lord Dawlish's lucky afternoon. All through lunch he +had been saying the wrong thing, and now he put the coping-stone +on his misdeeds. Of all the ways in which he could have answered +Claire's question he chose the worst. + +'Er--well,' he said, '_noblesse oblige_, don't you know, what?' + +For a moment Claire did not speak. Then she looked at her watch +and got up. + +'I must be going,' she said, coldly. + +'But you haven't had your coffee yet.' + +'I don't want any coffee.' + +'What's the matter, dear?' + +'Nothing is the matter. I have to go home and pack. I'm going to +Southampton this afternoon.' + +She began to move towards the door. Lord Dawlish, anxious to +follow, was detained by the fact that he had not yet paid the +bill. The production and settling of this took time, and when +finally he turned in search of Claire she was nowhere visible. + +Bounding upstairs on the swift feet of love, he reached the +street. She had gone. + + + + +2 + + +A grey sadness surged over Bill Dawlish. The sun hid itself behind +a cloud, the sky took on a leaden hue, and a chill wind blew +through the world. He scanned Shaftesbury Avenue with a jaundiced +eye, and thought that he had never seen a beastlier thoroughfare. +Piccadilly, however, into which he shortly dragged himself, was +even worse. It was full of men and women and other depressing +things. + +He pitied himself profoundly. It was a rotten world to live in, +this, where a fellow couldn't say _noblesse oblige_ without +upsetting the universe. Why shouldn't a fellow say _noblesse +oblige?_ Why--? At this juncture Lord Dawlish walked into a +lamp-post. + +The shock changed his mood. Gloom still obsessed him, but blended +now with remorse. He began to look at the matter from Claire's +viewpoint, and his pity switched from himself to her. In the first +place, the poor girl had rather a rotten time. Could she be blamed +for wanting him to make money? No. Yet whenever she made suggestions +as to how the thing was to be done, he snubbed her by saying +_noblesse oblige_. Naturally a refined and sensitive young girl +objected to having things like _noblesse oblige_ said to her. Where +was the sense in saying _noblesse oblige_? Such a confoundedly silly +thing to say. Only a perfect ass would spend his time rushing about +the place saying _noblesse oblige_ to people. + +'By Jove!' Lord Dawlish stopped in his stride. He disentangled +himself from a pedestrian who had rammed him on the back. 'I'll do +it!' + +He hailed a passing taxi and directed the driver to make for the +Pen and Ink Club. + +The decision at which Bill had arrived with such dramatic +suddenness in the middle of Piccadilly was the same at which some +centuries earlier Columbus had arrived in the privacy of his home. + +'Hang it!' said Bill to himself in the cab, 'I'll go to America!' +The exact words probably which Columbus had used, talking the +thing over with his wife. + +Bill's knowledge of the great republic across the sea was at this +period of his life a little sketchy. He knew that there had been +unpleasantness between England and the United States in +seventeen-something and again in eighteen-something, but that +things had eventually been straightened out by Miss Edna May +and her fellow missionaries of the Belle of New York Company, +since which time there had been no more trouble. Of American +cocktails he had a fair working knowledge, and he appreciated +ragtime. But of the other great American institutions he was +completely ignorant. + +He was on his way now to see Gates. Gates was a comparatively +recent addition to his list of friends, a New York newspaperman +who had come to England a few months before to act as his paper's +London correspondent. He was generally to be found at the Pen and +Ink Club, an institution affiliated with the New York Players, of +which he was a member. + +Gates was in. He had just finished lunch. + +'What's the trouble, Bill?' he inquired, when he had deposited his +lordship in a corner of the reading-room, which he had selected +because silence was compulsory there, thus rendering it possible +for two men to hear each other speak. 'What brings you charging in +here looking like the Soul's Awakening?' + +'I've had an idea, old man.' + +'Proceed. Continue.' + +'Oh! Well, you remember what you were saying about America?' + +'What was I saying about America?' + +'The other day, don't you remember? What a lot of money there was +to be made there and so forth.' + +'Well?' + +'I'm going there.' + +'To America?' + +'Yes.' + +'To make money?' + +'Rather.' + +Gates nodded--sadly, it seemed to Bill. He was rather a melancholy +young man, with a long face not unlike a pessimistic horse. + +'Gosh!' he said. + +Bill felt a little damped. By no mental juggling could he construe +'Gosh!' into an expression of enthusiastic approbation. + +Gates looked at Bill curiously. 'What's the idea?' he said. 'I +could have understood it if you had told me that you were going to +New York for pleasure, instructing your man Willoughby to see that +the trunks were jolly well packed and wiring to the skipper of +your yacht to meet you at Liverpool. But you seem to have sordid +motives. You talk about making money. What do you want with more +money?' + +'Why, I'm devilish hard up.' + +'Tenantry a bit slack with the rent?' said Gates sympathetically. + +Bill laughed. + +'My dear chap, I don't know what on earth you're talking about. +How much money do you think I've got? Four hundred pounds a year, +and no prospect of ever making more unless I sweat for it.' + +'What! I always thought you were rolling in money.' + +'What gave you that idea?' + +'You have a prosperous look. It's a funny thing about England. +I've known you four months, and I know men who know you; but I've +never heard a word about your finances. In New York we all wear +labels, stating our incomes and prospects in clear lettering. +Well, if it's like that it's different, of course. There certainly +is more money to be made in America than here. I don't quite see +what you think you're going to do when you get there, but that's +up to you. + +'There's no harm in giving the city a trial. Anyway, I can give +you a letter or two that might help.' + +'That's awfully good of you.' + +'You won't mind my alluding to you as my friend William Smith?' + +'William Smith?' + +'You can't travel under your own name if you are really serious +about getting a job. Mind you, if my letters lead to anything it +will probably be a situation as an earnest bill-clerk or an +effervescent office-boy, for Rockefeller and Carnegie and that lot +have swiped all the soft jobs. But if you go over as Lord Dawlish +you won't even get that. Lords are popular socially in America, +but are not used to any great extent in the office. If you try to +break in under your right name you'll get the glad hand and be +asked to stay here and there and play a good deal of golf and +dance quite a lot, but you won't get a job. A gentle smile will +greet all your pleadings that you be allowed to come in and save +the firm.' + +'I see.' + +'We may look on Smith as a necessity.' + +'Do you know, I'm not frightfully keen on the name Smith. Wouldn't +something else do?' + +'Sure. We aim to please. How would Jones suit you?' + +'The trouble is, you know, that if I took a name I wasn't used to +I might forget it.' + +'If you've the sort of mind that would forget Jones I doubt if +ever you'll be a captain of industry.' + +'Why not Chalmers?' + +'You think it easier to memorize than Jones?' + +'It used to be my name, you see, before I got the title.' + +'I see. All right. Chalmers then. When do you think of starting?' + +'To-morrow.' + +'You aren't losing much time. By the way, as you're going to New +York you might as well use my flat.' + +'It's awfully good of you.' + +'Not a bit. You would be doing me a favour. I had to leave at a +moment's notice, and I want to know what's been happening to the +place. I left some Japanese prints there, and my favourite +nightmare is that someone has broken in and sneaked them. Write +down the address--Forty-three East Twenty-seventh Street. I'll +send you the key to Brown's to-night with those letters.' + +Bill walked up the Strand, glowing with energy. He made his way to +Cockspur Street to buy his ticket for New York. This done, he set +out to Brown's to arrange with the committee the details of his +departure. + +He reached Brown's at twenty minutes past two and left it again at +twenty-three minutes past; for, directly he entered, the hall +porter had handed him a telephone message. The telephone +attendants at London clubs are masters of suggestive brevity. The +one in the basement of Brown's had written on Bill's slip of paper +the words: '1 p.m. Will Lord Dawlish as soon as possible call upon +Mr Gerald Nichols at his office?' To this was appended a message +consisting of two words: 'Good news.' + +It was stimulating. The probability was that all Jerry Nichols +wanted to tell him was that he had received stable information +about some horse or had been given a box for the Empire, but for +all that it was stimulating. + +Bill looked at his watch. He could spare half an hour. He set out +at once for the offices of the eminent law firm of Nichols, +Nichols, Nichols, and Nichols, of which aggregation of Nicholses +his friend Jerry was the last and smallest. + + + + +3 + + +On a west-bound omnibus Claire Fenwick sat and raged silently in the +June sunshine. She was furious. What right had Lord Dawlish to look +down his nose and murmur '_Noblesse oblige_' when she asked him a +question, as if she had suggested that he should commit some crime? +It was the patronizing way he had said it that infuriated her, as if +he were a superior being of some kind, governed by codes which she +could not be expected to understand. Everybody nowadays did the sort +of things she suggested, so what was the good of looking shocked and +saying '_Noblesse oblige_'? + +The omnibus rolled on towards West Kensington. Claire hated the +place with the bitter hate of one who had read society novels, and +yearned for Grosvenor Square and butlers and a general atmosphere +of soft cushions and pink-shaded lights and maids to do one's +hair. She hated the cheap furniture of the little parlour, the +penetrating contralto of the cook singing hymns in the kitchen, +and the ubiquitousness of her small brother. He was only ten, and +small for his age, yet he appeared to have the power of being in +two rooms at the same time while making a nerve-racking noise in +another. + +It was Percy who greeted her to-day as she entered the flat. + +'Halloa, Claire! I say, Claire, there's a letter for you. It came +by the second post. I say, Claire, it's got an American stamp on +it. Can I have it, Claire? I haven't got one in my collection.' + +His sister regarded him broodingly. 'For goodness' sake don't +bellow like that!' she said. 'Of course, you can have the stamp. I +don't want it. Where is the letter?' + +Claire took the envelope from him, extracted the letter, and +handed back the envelope. Percy vanished into the dining-room with +a shattering squeal of pleasure. + +A voice spoke from behind a half-opened door-- + +'Is that you, Claire?' + +'Yes, mother; I've come back to pack. They want me to go to +Southampton to-night to take up Claudia Winslow's part.' + +'What train are you catching?' + +'The three-fifteen.' + +'You will have to hurry.' + +'I'm going to hurry,' said Claire, clenching her fists as two +simultaneous bursts of song, in different keys and varying tempos, +proceeded from the dining-room and kitchen. A girl has to be in a +sunnier mood than she was to bear up without wincing under the +infliction of a duet consisting of the Rock of Ages and Waiting +for the Robert E. Lee. Assuredly Claire proposed to hurry. She +meant to get her packing done in record time and escape from this +place. She went into her bedroom and began to throw things +untidily into her trunk. She had put the letter in her pocket +against a more favourable time for perusal. A glance had told her +that it was from her friend Polly, Countess of Wetherby: that +Polly Davis of whom she had spoken to Lord Dawlish. Polly Davis, +now married for better or for worse to that curious invertebrate +person, Algie Wetherby, was the only real friend Claire had made +on the stage. A sort of shivering gentility had kept her aloof +from the rest of her fellow-workers, but it took more than a +shivering gentility to stave off Polly. + +Claire had passed through the various stages of intimacy with her, +until on the occasion of Polly's marriage she had acted as her +bridesmaid. + +It was a long letter, too long to be read until she was at +leisure, and written in a straggling hand that made reading +difficult. She was mildly surprised that Polly should have written +her, for she had been back in America a year or more now, and this +was her first letter. Polly had a warm heart and did not forget +her friends, but she was not a good correspondent. + +The need of getting her things ready at once drove the letter from +Claire's mind. She was in the train on her way to Southampton +before she remembered its existence. + +It was dated from New York. + +MY DEAR OLD CLAIRE,--Is this really my first letter to you? Isn't +that awful! Gee! A lot's happened since I saw you last. I must +tell you first about my hit. Some hit! Claire, old girl, I own New +York. I daren't tell you what my salary is. You'd faint. + +I'm doing barefoot dancing. You know the sort of stuff. I started +it in vaudeville, and went so big that my agent shifted me to the +restaurants, and they have to call out the police reserves to +handle the crowd. You can't get a table at Reigelheimer's, which +is my pitch, unless you tip the head waiter a small fortune and +promise to mail him your clothes when you get home. I dance during +supper with nothing on my feet and not much anywhere else, and it +takes three vans to carry my salary to the bank. + +Of course, it's the title that does it: 'Lady Pauline Wetherby!' +Algie says it oughtn't to be that, because I'm not the daughter of +a duke, but I don't worry about that. It looks good, and that's +all that matters. You can't get away from the title. I was born in +Carbondale, Illinois, but that doesn't matter--I'm an English +countess, doing barefoot dancing to work off the mortgage on the +ancestral castle, and they eat me. Take it from me, Claire, I'm a +riot. + +Well, that's that. What I am really writing about is to tell you +that you have got to come over here. I've taken a house at +Brookport, on Long Island, for the summer. You can stay with me +till the fall, and then I can easily get you a good job in New +York. I have some pull these days, believe me. Not that you'll +need my help. The managers have only got to see you and they'll +all want you. I showed one of them that photograph you gave me, +and he went up in the air. They pay twice as big salaries over +here, you know, as in England, so come by the next boat. + +Claire, darling, you must come. I'm wretched. Algie has got my +goat the worst way. If you don't know what that means it means +that he's behaving like a perfect pig. I hardly know where to +begin. Well, it was this way: directly I made my hit my press +agent, a real bright man named Sherriff, got busy, of course. +Interviews, you know, and Advice to Young Girls in the evening +papers, and How I Preserve My Beauty, and all that sort of thing. +Well, one thing he made me do was to buy a snake and a monkey. +Roscoe Sherriff is crazy about animals as aids to advertisement. +He says an animal story is the thing he does best. So I bought +them. + +Algie kicked from the first. I ought to tell you that since we +left England he has taken up painting footling little pictures, +and has got the artistic temperament badly. All his life he's been +starting some new fool thing. When I first met him he prided +himself on having the finest collection of photographs of +race-horses in England. Then he got a craze for model engines. +After that he used to work the piano player till I nearly went +crazy. And now it's pictures. + +I don't mind his painting. It gives him something to do and keeps +him out of mischief. He has a studio down in Washington Square, +and is perfectly happy messing about there all day. + +Everything would be fine if he didn't think it necessary to tack +on the artistic temperament to his painting. He's developed the +idea that he has nerves and everything upsets them. + +Things came to a head this morning at breakfast. Clarence, my +snake, has the cutest way of climbing up the leg of the table and +looking at you pleadingly in the hope that you will give him +soft-boiled egg, which he adores. He did it this morning, and no +sooner had his head appeared above the table than Algie, with a kind +of sharp wail, struck him a violent blow on the nose with a teaspoon. +Then he turned to me, very pale, and said: 'Pauline, this must +end! The time has come to speak up. A nervous, highly-strung man +like myself should not, and must not, be called upon to live in a +house where he is constantly meeting snakes and monkeys without +warning. Choose between me and--' + +We had got as far as this when Eustace, the monkey, who I didn't +know was in the room at all, suddenly sprang on to his back. He is +very fond of Algie. + +Would you believe it? Algie walked straight out of the house, still +holding the teaspoon, and has not returned. Later in the day he +called me up on the phone and said that, though he realized that a +man's place was the home, he declined to cross the threshold again +until I had got rid of Eustace and Clarence. I tried to reason with +him. I told him that he ought to think himself lucky it wasn't +anything worse than a monkey and a snake, for the last person Roscoe +Sherriff handled, an emotional actress named Devenish, had to keep a +young puma. But he wouldn't listen, and the end of it was that he +rang off and I have not seen or heard of him since. + +I am broken-hearted. I won't give in, but I am having an awful time. +So, dearest Claire, do come over and help me. If you could possibly +sail by the _Atlantic_, leaving Southampton on the twenty-fourth of +this month, you would meet a friend of mine whom I think you would +like. His name is Dudley Pickering, and he made a fortune in +automobiles. I expect you have heard of the Pickering automobiles? + +Darling Claire, do come, or I know I shall weaken and yield to +Algie's outrageous demands, for, though I would like to hit him +with a brick, I love him dearly. + + Your affectionate + POLLY WETHERBY + +Claire sank back against the cushioned seat and her eyes filled +with tears of disappointment. Of all the things which would have +chimed in with her discontented mood at that moment a sudden +flight to America was the most alluring. Only one consideration +held her back--she had not the money for her fare. + +Polly might have thought of that, she reflected, bitterly. She +took the letter up again and saw that on the last page there was a +postscript-- + +PS.--I don't know how you are fixed for money, old girl, but if +things are the same with you as in the old days you can't be +rolling. So I have paid for a passage for you with the liner +people this side, and they have cabled their English office, so +you can sail whenever you want to. Come right over. + +An hour later the manager of the Southampton branch of the White +Star Line was dazzled by an apparition, a beautiful girl who burst +in upon him with flushed face and shining eyes, demanding a berth on +the steamship _Atlantic_ and talking about a Lady Wetherby. Ten +minutes later, her passage secured, Claire was walking to the local +theatre to inform those in charge of the destinies of The Girl and +the Artist number one company that they must look elsewhere for a +substitute for Miss Claudia Winslow. Then she went back to her hotel +to write a letter home, notifying her mother of her plans. + +She looked at her watch. It was six o'clock. Back in West +Kensington a rich smell of dinner would be floating through the +flat; the cook, watching the boiling cabbage, would be singing "A +Few More Years Shall Roll"; her mother would be sighing; and her +little brother Percy would be employed upon some juvenile +deviltry, the exact nature of which it was not possible to +conjecture, though one could be certain that it would be something +involving a deafening noise. + +Claire smiled a happy smile. + + + + +4 + + +The offices of Messrs Nichols, Nichols, Nichols, and Nichols were +in Lincoln's Inn Fields. The first Nichols had been dead since the +reign of King William the Fourth, the second since the jubilee +year of Queen Victoria. The remaining brace were Lord Dawlish's +friend Jerry and his father, a formidable old man who knew all the +shady secrets of all the noble families in England. + +Bill walked up the stairs and was shown into the room where Jerry, +when his father's eye was upon him, gave his daily imitation of a +young man labouring with diligence and enthusiasm at the law. His +father being at the moment out at lunch, the junior partner was +practising putts with an umbrella and a ball of paper. + +Jerry Nichols was not the typical lawyer. At Cambridge, where Bill +had first made his acquaintance, he had been notable for an +exuberance of which Lincoln's Inn Fields had not yet cured him. +There was an airy disregard for legal formalities about him which +exasperated his father, an attorney of the old school. He came to +the point, directly Bill entered the room, with a speed and levity +that would have appalled Nichols Senior, and must have caused the +other two Nicholses to revolve in their graves. + +'Halloa, Bill, old man,' he said, prodding him amiably in the +waistcoat with the ferrule of the umbrella. 'How's the boy? Fine! +So'm I. So you got my message? Wonderful invention, the +telephone.' + +'I've just come from the club.' + +'Take a chair.' + +'What's the matter?' + +Jerry Nichols thrust Bill into a chair and seated himself on the +table. + +'Now look here, Bill,' he said, 'this isn't the way we usually do +this sort of thing, and if the governor were here he would spend +an hour and a half rambling on about testators and beneficiary +legatees, and parties of the first part, and all that sort of rot. +But as he isn't here I want to know, as one pal to another, what +you've been doing to an old buster of the name of Nutcombe.' + +'Nutcombe?' + +'Nutcombe.' + +'Not Ira Nutcombe?' + +'Ira J. Nutcombe, formerly of Chicago, later of London, now a +disembodied spirit.' + +'Is he dead?' + +'Yes. And he's left you something like a million pounds.' + +Lord Dawlish looked at his watch. + +'Joking apart, Jerry, old man,' he said, 'what did you ask me to +come here for? The committee expects me to spend some of my time +at the club, and if I hang about here all the afternoon I shall +lose my job. Besides, I've got to get back to ask them for--' + +Jerry Nichols clutched his forehead with both hands, raised both +hands to heaven, and then, as if despairing of calming himself by +these means, picked up a paper-weight from the desk and hurled it +at a portrait of the founder of the firm, which hung over the +mantelpiece. He got down from the table and crossed the room to +inspect the ruins. + +Then, having taken a pair of scissors and cut the cord, he allowed +the portrait to fall to the floor. + +He rang the bell. The prematurely-aged office-boy, who was +undoubtedly destined to become a member of the firm some day, +answered the ring. + +'Perkins.' + +'Yes, sir?' + +'Inspect yonder _souffle_.' + +'Yes, sir.' + +'You have observed it?' + +'Yes, sir.' + +'You are wondering how it got there?' + +'Yes, sir.' + +'I will tell you. You and I were in here, discussing certain legal +minutiae in the interests of the firm, when it suddenly fell. We +both saw it and were very much surprised and startled. I soothed +your nervous system by giving you this half-crown. The whole +incident was very painful. Can you remember all this to tell my +father when he comes in? I shall be out lunching then.' + +'Yes, sir.' + +'An admirable lad that,' said Jerry Nichols as the door closed. +'He has been here two years, and I have never heard him say +anything except "Yes, sir." He will go far. Well, now that I am +calmer let us return to your little matter. Honestly, Bill, you +make me sick. When I contemplate you the iron enters my soul. You +stand there talking about your tuppenny-ha'penny job as if it +mattered a cent whether you kept it or not. Can't you understand +plain English? Can't you realize that you can buy Brown's and turn +it into a moving-picture house if you like? You're a millionaire!' + +Bill's face expressed no emotion whatsoever. Outwardly he appeared +unmoved. Inwardly he was a riot of bewilderment, incapable of +speech. He stared at Jerry dumbly. + +'We've got the will in the old oak chest,' went on Jerry Nichols. +'I won't show it to you, partly because the governor has got the +key and he would have a fit if he knew that I was giving you early +information like this, and partly because you wouldn't understand +it. It is full of "whereases" and "peradventures" and "heretofores" +and similar swank, and there aren't any stops in it. It takes the legal +mind, like mine, to tackle wills. What it says, when you've peeled +off a few of the long words which they put in to make it more +interesting, is that old Nutcombe leaves you the money because +you are the only man who ever did him a disinterested kindness--and +what I want to get out of you is, what was the disinterested kindness? +Because I'm going straight out to do it to every elderly, rich-looking +man I can find till I pick a winner.' + +Lord Dawlish found speech. + +'Jerry, is this really true?' + +'Gospel.' + +'You aren't pulling my leg?' + +'Pulling your leg? Of course I'm not pulling your leg. What do you +take me for? I'm a dry, hard-headed lawyer. The firm of Nichols, +Nichols, Nichols, and Nichols doesn't go about pulling people's +legs!' + +'Good Lord!' + +'It appears from the will that you worked this disinterested gag, +whatever it was, at Marvis Bay no longer ago than last year. +Wherein you showed a lot of sense, for Ira J., having altered his +will in your favour, apparently had no time before he died to +alter it again in somebody else's, which he would most certainly +have done if he had lived long enough, for his chief recreation +seems to have been making his will. To my certain knowledge he has +made three in the last two years. I've seen them. He was one of +those confirmed will-makers. He got the habit at an early age, and +was never able to shake it off. Do you remember anything about the +man?' + +'It isn't possible!' + +'Anything's possible with a man cracked enough to make freak wills +and not cracked enough to have them disputed on the ground of +insanity. What did you do to him at Marvis Bay? Save him from +drowning?' + +'I cured him of slicing.' + +'You did what?' + +'He used to slice his approach shots. I cured him.' + +'The thing begins to hang together. A certain plausibility creeps +into it. The late Nutcombe was crazy about golf. The governor used +to play with him now and then at Walton Heath. It was the only +thing Nutcombe seemed to live for. That being so, if you got rid +of his slice for him it seems to me, that you earned your money. +The only point that occurs to me is, how does it affect your +amateur status? It looks to me as if you were now a pro.' + +'But, Jerry, it's absurd. All I did was to give him a tip or two. +We were the only men down there, as it was out of the season, and +that drew us together. And when I spotted this slice of his I just +gave him a bit of advice. I give you my word that was all. He +can't have left me a fortune on the strength of that!' + +'You don't tell the story right, Bill. I can guess what really +happened--to wit, that you gave up all your time to helping the +old fellow improve his game, regardless of the fact that it +completely ruined your holiday.' + +'Oh, no!' + +'It's no use sitting there saying "Oh, no!" I can see you at it. +The fact is, you're such an infernally good chap that something of +this sort was bound to happen to you sooner or later. I think +making you his heir was the only sensible thing old Nutcombe ever +did. In his place I'd have done the same.' + +'But he didn't even seem decently grateful at the time.' + +'Probably not. He was a queer old bird. He had a most almighty row +with the governor in this office only a month or two ago about +absolutely nothing. They disagreed about something trivial, and +old Nutcombe stalked out and never came in again. That's the sort +of old bird he was.' + +'Was he sane, do you think?' + +'Absolutely, for legal purposes. We have three opinions from leading +doctors--collected by him in case of accidents, I suppose--each of +which declares him perfectly sound from the collar upward. But a +man can be pretty far gone, you know, without being legally insane, +and old Nutcombe--well, suppose we call him whimsical. He seems to +have zigzagged between the normal and the eccentric. + +'His only surviving relatives appear to be a nephew and a niece. +The nephew dropped out of the running two years ago when his aunt, +old Nutcombe's wife, who had divorced old Nutcombe, left him her +money. This seems to have soured the old boy on the nephew, for in +the first of his wills that I've seen--you remember I told you I +had seen three--he leaves the niece the pile and the nephew only +gets twenty pounds. Well, so far there's nothing very eccentric +about old Nutcombe's proceedings. But wait! + +'Six months after he had made that will he came in here and made +another. This left twenty pounds to the nephew as before, but +nothing at all to the niece. Why, I don't know. There was nothing +in the will about her having done anything to offend him during +those six months, none of those nasty slams you see in wills about +"I bequeath to my only son John one shilling and sixpence. Now +perhaps he's sorry he married the cook." As far as I can make out +he changed his will just as he did when he left the money to you, +purely through some passing whim. Anyway, he did change it. He +left the pile to support the movement those people are running for +getting the Jews back to Palestine. + +'He didn't seem, on second thoughts, to feel that this was quite +such a brainy scheme as he had at first, and it wasn't long before +he came trotting back to tear up this second will and switch back +to the first one--the one leaving the money to the niece. That +restoration to sanity lasted till about a month ago, when he broke +loose once more and paid his final visit here to will you the +contents of his stocking. This morning I see he's dead after a +short illness, so you collect. Congratulations!' + +Lord Dawlish had listened to this speech in perfect silence. He now +rose and began to pace the room. He looked warm and uncomfortable. +His demeanour, in fact, was by no means the accepted demeanour of +the lucky heir. + +'This is awful!' he said. 'Good Lord, Jerry, it's frightful!' + +'Awful!--being left a million pounds?' + +'Yes, like this. I feel like a bally thief.' + +'Why on earth?' + +'If it hadn't been for me this girl--what's her name?' + +'Her name is Boyd--Elizabeth Boyd.' + +'She would have had the whole million if it hadn't been for me. +Have you told her yet?' + +'She's in America. I was writing her a letter just before you came +in--informal, you know, to put her out of her misery. If I had +waited for the governor to let her know in the usual course of red +tape we should never have got anywhere. Also one to the nephew, +telling him about his twenty pounds. I believe in humane treatment +on these occasions. The governor would write them a legal letter +with so many "hereinbefores" in it that they would get the idea +that they had been left the whole pile. I just send a cheery line +saying "It's no good, old top. Abandon hope," and they know just +where they are. Simple and considerate.' + +A glance at Bill's face moved him to further speech. + +'I don't see why you should worry, Bill. How, by any stretch of +the imagination, can you make out that you are to blame for this +Boyd girl's misfortune? It looks to me as if these eccentric wills +of old Nutcombe's came in cycles, as it were. Just as he was due +for another outbreak he happened to meet you. It's a moral +certainty that if he hadn't met you he would have left all his +money to a Home for Superannuated Caddies or a Fund for Supplying +the Deserving Poor with Niblicks. Why should you blame yourself?' + +'I don't blame myself. It isn't exactly that. But--but, well, what +would you feel like in my place?' + +'A two-year-old.' + +'Wouldn't you do anything?' + +'I certainly would. By my halidom, I would! I would spend that +money with a vim and speed that would make your respected +ancestor, the Beau, look like a village miser.' + +'You wouldn't--er--pop over to America and see whether something +couldn't be arranged?' + +'What!' + +'I mean--suppose you were popping in any case. Suppose you had +happened to buy a ticket for New York on to-morrow's boat, +wouldn't you try to get in touch with this girl when you got to +America, and see if you couldn't--er--fix up something?' + +Jerry Nichols looked at him in honest consternation. He had always +known that old Bill was a dear old ass, but he had never dreamed +that he was such an infernal old ass as this. + +'You aren't thinking of doing that?' he gasped. + +'Well, you see, it's a funny coincidence, but I was going to +America, anyhow, to-morrow. I don't see why I shouldn't try to fix +up something with this girl.' + +'What do you mean--fix up something? You don't suggest that you +should give the money up, do you?' + +'I don't know. Not exactly that, perhaps. How would it be if I +gave her half, what? Anyway, I should like to find out about her, +see if she's hard up, and so on. I should like to nose round, you +know, and--er--and so forth, don't you know. Where did you say the +girl lived?' + +'I didn't say, and I'm not sure that I shall. Honestly, Bill, you +mustn't be so quixotic.' + +'There's no harm in my nosing round, is there? Be a good chap and +give me the address.' + +'Well'--with misgivings--'Brookport, Long Island.' + +'Thanks.' + +'Bill, are you really going to make a fool of yourself?' + +'Not a bit of it, old chap. I'm just going to--er--' + +'To nose round?' + +'To nose round,' said Bill. + +Jerry Nichols accompanied his friend to the door, and once more +peace reigned in the offices of Nichols, Nichols, Nichols, and +Nichols. + +The time of a man who has at a moment's notice decided to leave +his native land for a sojourn on foreign soil is necessarily taken +up with a variety of occupations; and it was not till the +following afternoon, on the boat at Liverpool, that Bill had +leisure to write to Claire, giving her the news of what had +befallen him. He had booked his ticket by a Liverpool boat in +preference to one that sailed from Southampton because he had not +been sure how Claire would take the news of his sudden decision to +leave for America. There was the chance that she might ridicule or +condemn the scheme, and he preferred to get away without seeing +her. Now that he had received this astounding piece of news from +Jerry Nichols he was relieved that he had acted in this way. +Whatever Claire might have thought of the original scheme, there +was no doubt at all what she would think of his plan of seeking +out Elizabeth Boyd with a view to dividing the legacy with her. + +He was guarded in his letter. He mentioned no definite figures. He +wrote that Ira Nutcombe of whom they had spoken so often had most +surprisingly left him in his will a large sum of money, and eased +his conscience by telling himself that half of a million pounds +undeniably was a large sum of money. + +The addressing of the letter called for thought. She would have +left Southampton with the rest of the company before it could +arrive. Where was it that she said they were going next week? +Portsmouth, that was it. He addressed the letter Care of The Girl +and the Artist Company, to the King's Theatre, Portsmouth. + + + + +5 + + +The village of Brookport, Long Island, is a summer place. It +lives, like the mosquitoes that infest it, entirely on its summer +visitors. At the time of the death of Mr Ira Nutcombe, the only +all-the-year-round inhabitants were the butcher, the grocer, the +chemist, the other customary fauna of villages, and Miss Elizabeth +Boyd, who rented the ramshackle farm known locally as Flack's and +eked out a precarious livelihood by keeping bees. + +If you take down your _Encyclopaedia Britannica_, Volume III, +AUS to BIS, you will find that bees are a 'large and natural +family of the zoological order Hymenoptera, characterized by the +plumose form of many of their hairs, by the large size of the +basal segment of the foot ... and by the development of a "tongue" +for sucking liquid food,' the last of which peculiarities, it is +interesting to note, they shared with Claude Nutcombe Boyd, +Elizabeth's brother, who for quite a long time--till his money ran +out--had made liquid food almost his sole means of sustenance. +These things, however, are by the way. We are not such snobs as to +think better or worse of a bee because it can claim kinship with +the _Hymenoptera_ family, nor so ill-bred as to chaff it for +having large feet. The really interesting passage in the article +occurs later, where it says: 'The bee industry prospers greatly in +America.' + +This is one of those broad statements that invite challenge. +Elizabeth Boyd would have challenged it. She had not prospered +greatly. With considerable trouble she contrived to pay her way, +and that was all. + +Again referring to the 'Encyclopaedia,' we find the words: 'Before +undertaking the management of a modern apiary, the beekeeper +should possess a certain amount of aptitude for the pursuit.' This +was possibly the trouble with Elizabeth's venture, considered from +a commercial point of view. She loved bees, but she was not an +expert on them. She had started her apiary with a small capital, a +book of practical hints, and a second-hand queen, principally +because she was in need of some occupation that would enable her +to live in the country. It was the unfortunate condition of Claude +Nutcombe which made life in the country a necessity. At that time +he was spending the remains of the money left him by his aunt, and +Elizabeth had hardly settled down at Brookport and got her venture +under way when she found herself obliged to provide for Nutty a +combination of home and sanatorium. It had been the poor lad's +mistaken view that he could drink up all the alcoholic liquor in +America. + +It is a curious law of Nature that the most undeserving brothers +always have the best sisters. Thrifty, plodding young men, who get +up early, and do it now, and catch the employer's eye, and save +half their salaries, have sisters who never speak civilly to them +except when they want to borrow money. To the Claude Nutcombes of +the world are vouchsafed the Elizabeths. + +The great aim of Elizabeth's life was to make a new man of Nutty. +It was her hope that the quiet life and soothing air of Brookport, +with--unless you counted the money-in-the-slot musical box at the +store--its absence of the fiercer excitements, might in time pull +him together and unscramble his disordered nervous system. She +liked to listen of a morning to the sound of Nutty busy in the +next room with a broom and a dustpan, for in the simple lexicon of +Flack's there was no such word as 'help'. The privy purse would +not run to a maid. Elizabeth did the cooking and Claude Nutcombe +the housework. + +Several days after Claire Fenwick and Lord Dawlish, by different +routes, had sailed from England, Elizabeth Boyd sat up in bed and +shook her mane of hair from her eyes, yawning. Outside her window +the birds were singing, and a shaft of sunlight intruded itself +beneath the blind. But what definitely convinced her that it was +time to get up was the plaintive note of James, the cat, +patrolling the roof of the porch. An animal of regular habits, +James always called for breakfast at eight-thirty sharp. + +Elizabeth got out of bed, wrapped her small body in a pink kimono, +thrust her small feet into a pair of blue slippers, yawned again, +and went downstairs. Having taken last night's milk from the ice-box, +she went to the back door, and, having filled James's saucer, +stood on the grass beside it, sniffing the morning air. + +Elizabeth Boyd was twenty-one, but standing there with her hair +tumbling about her shoulders she might have been taken by a +not-too-close observer for a child. It was only when you saw her eyes +and the resolute tilt of the chin that you realized that she was a +young woman very well able to take care of herself in a difficult +world. Her hair was very fair, her eyes brown and very bright, and +the contrast was extraordinarily piquant. They were valiant eyes, +full of spirit; eyes, also, that saw the humour of things. And her +mouth was the mouth of one who laughs easily. Her chin, small like +the rest of her, was strong; and in the way she held herself there +was a boyish jauntiness. She looked--and was--a capable little +person. + +She stood besides James like a sentinel, watching over him as he +breakfasted. There was a puppy belonging to one of the neighbours +who sometimes lumbered over and stole James's milk, disposing of +it in greedy gulps while its rightful proprietor looked on with +piteous helplessness. Elizabeth was fond of the puppy, but her +sense of justice was keen and she was there to check this +brigandage. + +It was a perfect day, cloudless and still. There was peace in the +air. James, having finished his milk, began to wash himself. A +squirrel climbed cautiously down from a linden tree. From the +orchard came the murmur of many bees. + +Aesthetically Elizabeth was fond of still, cloudless days, but +experience had taught her to suspect them. As was the custom in +that locality, the water supply depended on a rickety windwheel. +It was with a dark foreboding that she returned to the kitchen and +turned on one of the taps. For perhaps three seconds a stream of +the dimension of a darning-needle emerged, then with a sad gurgle +the tap relapsed into a stolid inaction. There is no stolidity so +utter as that of a waterless tap. + +'Confound it!' said Elizabeth. + +She passed through the dining-room to the foot of the stairs. + +'Nutty!' + +There was no reply. + +'Nutty, my precious lamb!' + +Upstairs in the room next to her own a long, spare form began to +uncurl itself in bed; a face with a receding chin and a small +forehead raised itself reluctantly from the pillow, and Claude +Nutcombe Boyd signalized the fact that he was awake by scowling at +the morning sun and uttering an aggrieved groan. + +Alas, poor Nutty! This was he whom but yesterday Broadway had +known as the Speed Kid, on whom head-waiters had smiled and lesser +waiters fawned; whose snake-like form had nestled in so many a +front-row orchestra stall. + +Where were his lobster Newburgs now, his cold quarts that were +wont to set the table in a roar? + +Nutty Boyd conformed as nearly as a human being may to Euclid's +definition of a straight line. He was length without breadth. From +boyhood's early day he had sprouted like a weed, till now in the +middle twenties he gave startled strangers the conviction that it +only required a sharp gust of wind to snap him in half. Lying in +bed, he looked more like a length of hose-pipe than anything else. +While he was unwinding himself the door opened and Elizabeth came +into the room. + +'Good morning, Nutty!' + +'What's the time?' asked her brother, hollowly. + +'Getting on towards nine. It's a lovely day. The birds are +singing, the bees are buzzing, summer's in the air. It's one of +those beautiful, shiny, heavenly, gorgeous days.' + +A look of suspicion came into Nutty's eyes. Elizabeth was not +often as lyrical as this. + +'There's a catch somewhere,' he said. + +'Well, as a matter of fact,' said Elizabeth, carelessly, 'the +water's off again.' + +'Confound it!' + +'I said that. I'm afraid we aren't a very original family.' + +'What a ghastly place this is! Why can't you see old Flack and +make him mend that infernal wheel?' + +'I'm going to pounce on him and have another try directly I see +him. Meanwhile, darling Nutty, will you get some clothes on and go +round to the Smiths and ask them to lend us a pailful?' + +'Oh, gosh, it's over a mile!' + +'No, no, not more than three-quarters.' + +'Lugging a pail that weighs a ton! The last time I went there +their dog bit me.' + +'I expect that was because you slunk in all doubled up, and he got +suspicious. You should hold your head up and throw your chest out +and stride up as if you were a military friend of the family.' + +Self-pity lent Nutty eloquence. + +'For Heaven's sake! You drag me out of bed at some awful hour of +the morning when a rational person would just be turning in; you +send me across country to fetch pailfuls of water when I'm feeling +like a corpse; and on top of that you expect me to behave like a +drum-major!' + +'Dearest, you can wriggle on your tummy, if you like, so long as +you get the fluid. We must have water. I can't fetch it. I'm a +delicately-nurtured female.' + +'We ought to have a man to do these ghastly jobs.' + +'But we can't afford one. Just at present all I ask is to be able +to pay expenses. And, as a matter of fact, you ought to be very +thankful that you have got--' + +'A roof over my head? I know. You needn't keep rubbing it in.' + +Elizabeth flushed. + +'I wasn't going to say that at all. What a pig you are sometimes, +Nutty. As if I wasn't only too glad to have you here. What I was +going to say was that you ought to be very thankful that you have +got to draw water and hew wood--' + +A look of absolute alarm came into Nutty's pallid face. + +'You don't mean to say that you want some wood chopped?' + +'I was speaking figuratively. I meant hustle about and work in the +open air. The sort of life you are leading now is what millionaires +pay hundreds of dollars for at these physical-culture places. It +has been the making of you.' + +'I don't feel made.' + +'Your nerves are ever so much better.' + +'They aren't.' + +Elizabeth looked at him in alarm. + +'Oh, Nutty, you haven't been--seeing anything again, have you?' + +'Not seeing, dreaming. I've been dreaming about monkeys. Why +should I dream about monkeys if my nerves were all right?' + +'I often dream about all sorts of queer things.' + +'Have you ever dreamed that you were being chased up Broadway by a +chimpanzee in evening dress?' + +'Never mind, dear, you'll be quite all right again when you have +been living this life down here a little longer.' + +Nutty glared balefully at the ceiling. + +'What's that darned thing up there on the ceiling? It looks like a +hornet. How on earth do these things get into the house?' + +'We ought to have nettings. I am going to pounce on Mr Flack about +that too.' + +'Thank goodness this isn't going to last much longer. It's nearly +two weeks since Uncle Ira died. We ought to be hearing from the +lawyers any day now. There might be a letter this morning.' + +'Do you think he has left us his money?' + +'Do I? Why, what else could he do with it? We are his only +surviving relatives, aren't we? I've had to go through life with a +ghastly name like Nutcombe as a compliment to him, haven't I? I +wrote to him regularly at Christmas and on his birthday, didn't I? +Well, then! I have a feeling there will be a letter from the +lawyers to-day. I wish you would get dressed and go down to the +post-office while I'm fetching that infernal water. I can't think +why the fools haven't cabled. You would have supposed they would +have thought of that.' + +Elizabeth returned to her room to dress. She was conscious of a +feeling that nothing was quite perfect in this world. It would be +nice to have a great deal of money, for she had a scheme in her +mind which called for a large capital; but she was sorry that it +could come to her only through the death of her uncle, of whom, +despite his somewhat forbidding personality, she had always been +fond. She was also sorry that a large sum of money was coming to +Nutty at that particular point in his career, just when there +seemed the hope that the simple life might pull him together. She +knew Nutty too well not to be able to forecast his probable +behaviour under the influence of a sudden restoration of wealth. + +While these thoughts were passing through her mind she happened to +glance out of the window. Nutty was shambling through the garden +with his pail, a bowed, shuffling pillar of gloom. As Elizabeth +watched, he dropped the pail and lashed the air violently for a +while. From her knowledge of bees ('It is needful to remember that +bees resent outside interference and will resolutely defend +themselves,' _Encyc. Brit._, Vol. III, AUS to BIS) Elizabeth +deduced that one of her little pets was annoying him. This episode +concluded, Nutty resumed his pail and the journey, and at this +moment there appeared over the hedge the face of Mr John Prescott, +a neighbour. Mr Prescott, who had dismounted from a bicycle, +called to Nutty and waved something in the air. To a stranger the +performance would have been obscure, but Elizabeth understood it. +Mr Prescott was intimating that he had been down to the post-office +for his own letters and, as was his neighbourly custom on these +occasions, had brought back also letters for Flack's. + +Nutty foregathered with Mr Prescott and took the letters from him. +Mr Prescott disappeared. Nutty selected one of the letters and +opened it. Then, having stood perfectly still for some moments, he +suddenly turned and began to run towards the house. + +The mere fact that her brother, whose usual mode of progression +was a languid saunter, should be actually running, was enough to +tell Elizabeth that the letter which Nutty had read was from the +London lawyers. No other communication could have galvanized him +into such energy. Whether the contents of the letter were good or +bad it was impossible at that distance to say. But when she +reached the open air, just as Nutty charged up, she saw by his +face that it was anguish not joy that had spurred him on. He was +gasping and he bubbled unintelligible words. His little eyes +gleamed wildly. + +'Nutty, darling, what is it?' cried Elizabeth, every maternal +instinct in her aroused. + +He was thrusting a sheet of paper at her, a sheet of paper that +bore the superscription of Nichols, Nichols, Nichols, and Nichols, +with a London address. + +'Uncle Ira--' Nutty choked. 'Twenty pounds! He's left me twenty +pounds, and all the rest to a--to a man named Dawlish!' + +In silence Elizabeth took the letter. It was even as he had said. +A few moments before Elizabeth had been regretting the imminent +descent of wealth upon her brother. Now she was inconsistent +enough to boil with rage at the shattering blow which had befallen +him. That she, too, had lost her inheritance hardly occurred to +her. Her thoughts were all for Nutty. It did not need the sight of +him, gasping and gurgling before her, to tell her how overwhelming +was his disappointment. + +It was useless to be angry with the deceased Mr Nutcombe. He was +too shadowy a mark. Besides, he was dead. The whole current of her +wrath turned upon the supplanter, this Lord Dawlish. She pictured +him as a crafty adventurer, a wretched fortune-hunter. For some +reason or other she imagined him a sinister person with a black +moustache, a face thin and hawk-like, and unpleasant eyes. That +was the sort of man who would be likely to fasten his talons into +poor Uncle Ira. + +She had never hated any one in her life before, but as she stood +there at that moment she felt that she loathed and detested +William Lord Dawlish--unhappy, well-meaning Bill, who only a few +hours back had set foot on American soil in his desire to nose +round and see if something couldn't be arranged. + +Nutty fetched the water. Life is like that. There is nothing +clean-cut about it, no sense of form. Instead of being permitted +to concentrate his attention on his tragedy Nutty had to trudge +three-quarters of a mile, conciliate a bull-terrier, and trudge +back again carrying a heavy pail. It was as if one of the heroes +of Greek drama, in the middle of his big scene, had been asked to +run round the corner to a provision store. + +The exercise did not act as a restorative. The blow had been too +sudden, too overwhelming. Nutty's reason--such as it was--tottered +on its throne. Who was Lord Dawlish? What had he done to +ingratiate himself with Uncle Ira? By what insidious means, with +what devilish cunning, had he wormed his way into the old man's +favour? These were the questions that vexed Nutty's mind when he +was able to think at all coherently. + +Back at the farm Elizabeth cooked breakfast and awaited her +brother's return with a sinking heart. She was a soft-hearted +girl, easily distressed by the sight of suffering; and she was +aware that Nutty was scarcely of the type that masks its woes +behind a brave and cheerful smile. Her heart bled for Nutty. + +There was a weary step outside. Nutty entered, slopping water. One +glance at his face was enough to tell Elizabeth that she had +formed a too conservative estimate of his probable gloom. Without +a word he coiled his long form in a chair. There was silence in +the stricken house. + +'What's the time?' + +Elizabeth glanced at her watch. + +'Half-past nine.' + +'About now,' said Nutty, sepulchrally, 'the blighter is ringing +for his man to prepare his bally bath and lay out his gold-leaf +underwear. After that he will drive down to the bank and draw some +of our money.' + +The day passed wearily for Elizabeth. Nutty having the air of one +who is still engaged in picking up the pieces, she had not the +heart to ask him to play his customary part in the household +duties, so she washed the dishes and made the beds herself. After +that she attended to the bees. After that she cooked lunch. + +Nutty was not chatty at lunch. Having observed 'About now the +blighter is cursing the waiter for bringing the wrong brand of +champagne,' he relapsed into a silence which he did not again +break. + +Elizabeth was busy again in the afternoon. At four o'clock, +feeling tired out, she went to her room to lie down until the next +of her cycle of domestic duties should come round. + +It was late when she came downstairs, for she had fallen asleep. +The sun had gone down. Bees were winging their way heavily back to +the hives with their honey. She went out into the grounds to try +to find Nutty. There had been no signs of him in the house. There +were no signs of him about the grounds. It was not like him to +have taken a walk, but it seemed the only possibility. She went +back to the house to wait. Eight o'clock came, and nine, and it +was then the truth dawned upon her--Nutty had escaped. He had +slipped away and gone up to New York. + + + + +6 + + +Lord Dawlish sat in the New York flat which had been lent him by +his friend Gates. The hour was half-past ten in the evening; the +day, the second day after the exodus of Nutty Boyd from the farm. +Before him on the table lay a letter. He was smoking pensively. + +Lord Dawlish had found New York enjoyable, but a trifle fatiguing. +There was much to be seen in the city, and he had made the mistake +of trying to see it all at once. It had been his intention, when +he came home after dinner that night, to try to restore the +balance of things by going to bed early. He had sat up longer than +he had intended, because he had been thinking about this letter. + +Immediately upon his arrival in America, Bill had sought out a +lawyer and instructed him to write to Elizabeth Boyd, offering her +one-half of the late Ira Nutcombe's money. He had had time during +the voyage to think the whole matter over, and this seemed to him +the only possible course. He could not keep it all. He would feel +like the despoiler of the widow and the orphan. Nor would it be +fair to Claire to give it all up. If he halved the legacy +everybody would be satisfied. + +That at least had been his view until Elizabeth's reply had +arrived. It was this reply that lay on the table--a brief, formal +note, setting forth Miss Boyd's absolute refusal to accept any +portion of the money. This was a development which Bill had not +foreseen, and he was feeling baffled. What was the next step? He +had smoked many pipes in the endeavour to find an answer to this +problem, and was lighting another when the door-bell rang. + +He opened the door and found himself confronting an extraordinarily +tall and thin young man in evening-dress. + +Lord Dawlish was a little startled. He had taken it for granted, +when the bell rang, that his visitor was Tom, the liftman from +downstairs, a friendly soul who hailed from London and had been +dropping in at intervals during the past two days to acquire the +latest news from his native land. He stared at this changeling +inquiringly. The solution of the mystery came with the stranger's +first words-- + +'Is Gates in?' + +He spoke eagerly, as if Gates were extremely necessary to his +well-being. It distressed Lord Dawlish to disappoint him, but +there was nothing else to be done. + +'Gates is in London,' he said. + +'What! When did he go there?' + +'About four months ago.' + +'May I come in a minute?' + +'Yes, rather, do.' + +He led the way into the sitting-room. The stranger gave abruptly +in the middle, as if he were being folded up by some invisible +agency, and in this attitude sank into a chair, where he lay back +looking at Bill over his knees, like a sorrowful sheep peering +over a sharp-pointed fence. + +'You're from England, aren't you?' + +'Yes.' + +'Been in New York long?' + +'Only a couple of days.' + +The stranger folded himself up another foot or so until his knees +were higher than his head, and lit a cigarette. + +'The curse of New York,' he said, mournfully, 'is the way +everything changes in it. You can't take your eyes off it for a +minute. The population's always shifting. It's like a railway +station. You go away for a bit and come back and try to find your +old pals, and they're all gone: Ike's in Arizona, Mike's in a +sanatorium, Spike's in jail, and nobody seems to know where the +rest of them have got to. I came up from the country two days ago, +expecting to find the old gang along Broadway the same as ever, +and I'm dashed if I've been able to put my hands on one of them! +Not a single, solitary one of them! And it's only six months since +I was here last.' + +Lord Dawlish made sympathetic noises. + +'Of course,' proceeded the other, 'the time of year may have +something to do with it. Living down in the country you lose count +of time, and I forgot that it was July, when people go out of the +city. I guess that must be what happened. I used to know all sorts +of fellows, actors and fellows like that, and they're all away +somewhere. I tell you,' he said, with pathos, 'I never knew I +could be so infernally lonesome as I have been these last two +days. If I had known what a rotten time I was going to have I +would never have left Brookport.' + +'Brookport!' + +'It's a place down on Long Island.' + +Bill was not by nature a plotter, but the mere fact of travelling +under an assumed name had developed a streak of wariness in him. +He checked himself just as he was about to ask his companion if he +happened to know a Miss Elizabeth Boyd, who also lived at +Brookport. It occurred to him that the question would invite a +counter-question as to his own knowledge of Miss Boyd, and he knew +that he would not be able to invent a satisfactory answer to that +offhand. + +'This evening,' said the thin young man, resuming his dirge, 'I +was sweating my brain to try to think of somebody I could hunt up +in this ghastly, deserted city. It isn't so easy, you know, to +think of fellows' names and addresses. I can get the names all +right, but unless the fellow's in the telephone-book, I'm done. +Well, I was trying to think of some of my pals who might still be +around the place, and I remembered Gates. Remembered his address, +too, by a miracle. You're a pal of his, of course?' + +'Yes, I knew him in London.' + +'Oh, I see. And when you came over here he lent you his flat? By +the way, I didn't get your name?' + +'My name's Chalmers.' + +'Well, as I say, I remembered Gates and came down here to look him +up. We used to have a lot of good times together a year ago. And +now he's gone too!' + +'Did you want to see him about anything important?' + +'Well, it's important to me. I wanted him to come out to supper. +You see, it's this way: I'm giving supper to-night to a girl who's +in that show at the Forty-ninth Street Theatre, a Miss Leonard, +and she insists on bringing a pal. She says the pal is a good +sport, which sounds all right--' Bill admitted that it sounded all +right. 'But it makes the party three. And of all the infernal +things a party of three is the ghastliest.' + +Having delivered himself of this undeniable truth the stranger +slid a little farther into his chair and paused. 'Look here, what +are you doing to-night?' he said. + +'I was thinking of going to bed.' + +'Going to bed!' The stranger's voice was shocked, as if he had +heard blasphemy. 'Going to bed at half-past ten in New York! My +dear chap, what you want is a bit of supper. Why don't you come +along?' + +Amiability was, perhaps, the leading quality of Lord Dawlish's +character. He did not want to have to dress and go out to supper, +but there was something almost pleading in the eyes that looked at +him between the sharply-pointed knees. + +'It's awfully good of you--' He hesitated. + +'Not a bit; I wish you would. You would be a life-saver.' + +Bill felt that he was in for it. He got up. + +'You will?' said the other. 'Good boy! You go and get into some +clothes and come along. I'm sorry, what did you say your name +was?' + +'Chalmers.' + +'Mine's Boyd--Nutcombe Boyd.' + +'Boyd!' cried Bill. + +Nutty took his astonishment, which was too great to be concealed, +as a compliment. He chuckled. + +'I thought you would know the name if you were a pal of Gates's. I +expect he's always talking about me. You see, I was pretty well +known in this old place before I had to leave it.' + +Bill walked down the long passage to his bedroom with no trace of +the sleepiness which had been weighing on him five minutes before. +He was galvanized by a superstitious thrill. It was fate, +Elizabeth Boyd's brother turning up like this and making friendly +overtures right on top of that letter from her. This astonishing +thing could not have been better arranged if he had planned it +himself. From what little he had seen of Nutty he gathered that +the latter was not hard to make friends with. It would be a simple +task to cultivate his acquaintance. And having done so, he could +renew negotiations with Elizabeth. The desire to rid himself of +half the legacy had become a fixed idea with Bill. He had the +impression that he could not really feel clean again until he had +made matters square with his conscience in this respect. He felt +that he was probably a fool to take that view of the thing, but +that was the way he was built and there was no getting away from +it. + +This irruption of Nutty Boyd into his life was an omen. It meant +that all was not yet over. He was conscious of a mild surprise +that he had ever intended to go to bed. He felt now as if he never +wanted to go to bed again. He felt exhilarated. + +In these days one cannot say that a supper-party is actually given +in any one place. Supping in New York has become a peripatetic +pastime. The supper-party arranged by Nutty Boyd was scheduled to +start at Reigelheimer's on Forty-second Street, and it was there +that the revellers assembled. + +Nutty and Bill had been there a few minutes when Miss Daisy +Leonard arrived with her friend. And from that moment Bill was +never himself again. + +The Good Sport was, so to speak, an outsize in Good Sports. She +loomed up behind the small and demure Miss Leonard like a liner +towed by a tug. She was big, blonde, skittish, and exuberant; she +wore a dress like the sunset of a fine summer evening, and she +effervesced with spacious good will to all men. She was one of +those girls who splash into public places like stones into quiet +pools. Her form was large, her eyes were large, her teeth were +large, and her voice was large. She overwhelmed Bill. She hit his +astounded consciousness like a shell. She gave him a buzzing in +the ears. She was not so much a Good Sport as some kind of an +explosion. + +He was still reeling from the spiritual impact with this female +tidal wave when he became aware, as one who, coming out of a +swoon, hears voices faintly, that he was being addressed by Miss +Leonard. To turn from Miss Leonard's friend to Miss Leonard +herself was like hearing the falling of gentle rain after a +thunderstorm. For a moment he revelled in the sense of being +soothed; then, as he realized what she was saying, he started +violently. Miss Leonard was looking at him curiously. + +'I beg your pardon?' said Bill. + +'I'm sure I've met you before, Mr Chalmers.' + +'Er--really?' + +'But I can't think where.' + +'I'm sure,' said the Good Sport, languishingly, like a sentimental +siege-gun, 'that if I had ever met Mr Chalmers before I shouldn't +have forgotten him.' + +'You're English, aren't you?' asked Miss Leonard. + +'Yes.' + +The Good Sport said she was crazy about Englishmen. + +'I thought so from your voice.' + +The Good Sport said that she was crazy about the English accent. + +'It must have been in London that I met you. I was in the revue at +the Alhambra last year.' + +'By George, I wish I had seen you!' interjected the infatuated +Nutty. + +The Good Sport said that she was crazy about London. + +'I seem to remember,' went on Miss Leonard, 'meeting you out at +supper. Do you know a man named Delaney in the Coldstream Guards?' + +Bill would have liked to deny all knowledge of Delaney, though the +latter was one of his best friends, but his natural honesty +prevented him. + +'I'm sure I met you at a supper he gave at Oddy's one Friday +night. We all went on to Covent Garden. Don't you remember?' + +'Talking of supper,' broke in Nutty, earning Bill's hearty +gratitude thereby, 'where's the dashed head-waiter? I want to find +my table.' + +He surveyed the restaurant with a melancholy eye. + +'Everything changed!' He spoke sadly, as Ulysses might have done +when his boat put in at Ithaca. 'Every darned thing different +since I was here last. New waiter, head-waiter I never saw before +in my life, different-coloured carpet--' + +'Cheer up, Nutty, old thing!' said Miss Leonard. 'You'll feel +better when you've had something to eat. I hope you had the sense +to tip the head-waiter, or there won't be any table. Funny how +these places go up and down in New York. A year ago the whole +management would turn out and kiss you if you looked like spending +a couple of dollars here. Now it costs the earth to get in at +all.' + +'Why's that?' asked Nutty. + +'Lady Pauline Wetherby, of course. Didn't you know this was where +she danced?' + +'Never heard of her,' said Nutty, in a sort of ecstasy of wistful +gloom. 'That will show you how long I've been away. Who is she?' + +Miss Leonard invoked the name of Mike. + +'Don't you ever get the papers in your village, Nutty?' + +'I never read the papers. I don't suppose I've read a paper for +years. I can't stand 'em. Who is Lady Pauline Wetherby?' + +'She does Greek dances--at least, I suppose they're Greek. They +all are nowadays, unless they're Russian. She's an English +peeress.' + +Miss Leonard's friend said she was crazy about these picturesque +old English families; and they went in to supper. + + * * * * * + +Looking back on the evening later and reviewing its leading +features, Lord Dawlish came to the conclusion that he never +completely recovered from the first shock of the Good Sport. He +was conscious all the time of a dream-like feeling, as if he were +watching himself from somewhere outside himself. From some +conning-tower in this fourth dimension he perceived himself eating +broiled lobster and drinking champagne and heard himself bearing +an adequate part in the conversation; but his movements were +largely automatic. + + * * * * * + +Time passed. It seemed to Lord Dawlish, watching from without, +that things were livening up. He seemed to perceive a quickening +of the _tempo_ of the revels, an added abandon. Nutty was +getting quite bright. He had the air of one who recalls the good +old days, of one who in familiar scenes re-enacts the joys of his +vanished youth. The chastened melancholy induced by many months of +fetching of pails of water, of scrubbing floors with a mop, and of +jumping like a firecracker to avoid excited bees had been purged +from him by the lights and the music and the wine. He was telling +a long anecdote, laughing at it, throwing a crust of bread at an +adjacent waiter, and refilling his glass at the same time. It is +not easy to do all these things simultaneously, and the fact that +Nutty did them with notable success was proof that he was picking +up. + +Miss Daisy Leonard was still demure, but as she had just slipped a +piece of ice down the back of Nutty's neck one may assume that she +was feeling at her ease and had overcome any diffidence or shyness +which might have interfered with her complete enjoyment of the +festivities. As for the Good Sport, she was larger, blonder, and +more exuberant than ever and she was addressing someone as 'Bill'. + +Perhaps the most remarkable phenomenon of the evening, as it +advanced, was the change it wrought in Lord Dawlish's attitude +toward this same Good Sport. He was not conscious of the beginning +of the change; he awoke to the realization of it suddenly. At the +beginning of supper his views on her had been definite and clear. +When they had first been introduced to each other he had had a +stunned feeling that this sort of thing ought not to be allowed at +large, and his battered brain had instinctively recalled that line +of Tennyson: 'The curse is come upon me.' But now, warmed with +food and drink and smoking an excellent cigar, he found that a +gentler, more charitable mood had descended upon him. + +He argued with himself in extenuation of the girl's peculiar +idiosyncrasies. Was it, he asked himself, altogether her fault +that she was so massive and spoke as if she were addressing an +open-air meeting in a strong gale? Perhaps it was hereditary. +Perhaps her father had been a circus giant and her mother the +strong woman of the troupe. And for the unrestraint of her manner +defective training in early girlhood would account. He began to +regard her with a quiet, kindly commiseration, which in its turn +changed into a sort of brotherly affection. He discovered that he +liked her. He liked her very much. She was so big and jolly and +robust, and spoke in such a clear, full voice. He was glad that +she was patting his hand. He was glad that he had asked her to +call him Bill. + +People were dancing now. It has been claimed by patriots that +American dyspeptics lead the world. This supremacy, though partly +due, no doubt, to vast supplies of pie absorbed in youth, may be +attributed to a certain extent also to the national habit of +dancing during meals. Lord Dawlish had that sturdy reverence for +his interior organism which is the birthright of every Briton. And +at the beginning of supper he had resolved that nothing should +induce him to court disaster in this fashion. But as the time went +on he began to waver. + +The situation was awkward. Nutty and Miss Leonard were repeatedly +leaving the table to tread the measure, and on these occasions the +Good Sport's wistfulness was a haunting reproach. Nor was the +spectacle of Nutty in action without its effect on Bill's +resolution. Nutty dancing was a sight to stir the most stolid. + +Bill wavered. The music had started again now, one of those +twentieth-century eruptions of sound that begin like a train going +through a tunnel and continue like audible electric shocks, that +set the feet tapping beneath the table and the spine thrilling +with an unaccustomed exhilaration. Every drop of blood in his body +cried to him 'Dance!' He could resist no longer. + +'Shall we?' he said. + +Bill should not have danced. He was an estimable young man, +honest, amiable, with high ideals. He had played an excellent game +of football at the university; his golf handicap was plus two; and +he was no mean performer with the gloves. But we all of us have +our limitations, and Bill had his. He was not a good dancer. He +was energetic, but he required more elbow room than the ordinary +dancing floor provides. As a dancer, in fact, he closely resembled +a Newfoundland puppy trying to run across a field. + +It takes a good deal to daunt the New York dancing man, but the +invasion of the floor by Bill and the Good Sport undoubtedly +caused a profound and even painful sensation. Linked together they +formed a living projectile which might well have intimidated the +bravest. Nutty was their first victim. They caught him in +mid-step--one of those fancy steps which he was just beginning to +exhume from the cobwebbed recesses of his memory--and swept him +away. After which they descended resistlessly upon a stout +gentleman of middle age, chiefly conspicuous for the glittering +diamonds which he wore and the stoical manner in which he danced +to and fro on one spot of not more than a few inches in size in +the exact centre of the room. He had apparently staked out a claim +to this small spot, a claim which the other dancers had decided to +respect; but Bill and the Good Sport, coming up from behind, had +him two yards away from it at the first impact. Then, scattering +apologies broadcast like a medieval monarch distributing largesse, +Bill whirled his partner round by sheer muscular force and began +what he intended to be a movement toward the farther corner, +skirting the edge of the floor. It was his simple belief that +there was more safety there than in the middle. + +He had not reckoned with Heinrich Joerg. Indeed, he was not aware +of Heinrich Joerg's existence. Yet fate was shortly to bring them +together, with far-reaching results. Heinrich Joerg had left the +Fatherland a good many years before with the prudent purpose of +escaping military service. After various vicissitudes in the land +of his adoption--which it would be extremely interesting to +relate, but which must wait for a more favourable opportunity--he +had secured a useful and not ill-recompensed situation as one of +the staff of Reigelheimer's Restaurant. He was, in point of fact, +a waiter, and he comes into the story at this point bearing a tray +full of glasses, knives, forks, and pats of butter on little +plates. He was setting a table for some new arrivals, and in order +to obtain more scope for that task he had left the crowded aisle +beyond the table and come round to the edge of the dancing-floor. + +He should not have come out on to the dancing-floor. In another +moment he was admitting that himself. For just as he was lowering +his tray and bending over the table in the pursuance of his +professional duties, along came Bill at his customary high rate +of speed, propelling his partner before him, and for the first +time since he left home Heinrich was conscious of a regret that he +had done so. There are worse things than military service! + +It was the table that saved Bill. He clutched at it and it +supported him. He was thus enabled to keep the Good Sport from +falling and to assist Heinrich to rise from the morass of glasses, +knives, and pats of butter in which he was wallowing. Then, the +dance having been abandoned by mutual consent, he helped his now +somewhat hysterical partner back to their table. + +Remorse came upon Bill. He was sorry that he had danced; sorry +that he had upset Heinrich; sorry that he had subjected the Good +Sport's nervous system to such a strain; sorry that so much glass +had been broken and so many pats of butter bruised beyond repair. +But of one thing, even in that moment of bleak regrets, he was +distinctly glad, and that was that all these things had taken +place three thousand miles away from Claire Fenwick. He had not +been appearing at his best, and he was glad that Claire had not +seen him. + +As he sat and smoked the remains of his cigar, while renewing his +apologies and explanations to his partner and soothing the ruffled +Nutty with well-chosen condolences, he wondered idly what Claire +was doing at that moment. + +Claire at that moment, having been an astonished eye-witness of +the whole performance, was resuming her seat at a table at the +other end of the room. + + + + +7 + + +There were two reasons why Lord Dawlish was unaware of Claire +Fenwick's presence at Reigelheimer's Restaurant: Reigelheimer's is +situated in a basement below a ten-storey building, and in order +to prevent this edifice from falling into his patrons' soup the +proprietor had been obliged to shore up his ceiling with massive +pillars. One of these protruded itself between the table which +Nutty had secured for his supper-party and the table at which +Claire was sitting with her friend, Lady Wetherby, and her steamer +acquaintance, Mr Dudley Pickering. That was why Bill had not seen +Claire from where he sat; and the reason that he had not seen her +when he left his seat and began to dance was that he was not one +of your dancers who glance airily about them. When Bill danced he +danced. + +He would have been stunned with amazement if he had known that +Claire was at Reigelheimer's that night. And yet it would have +been remarkable, seeing that she was the guest of Lady Wetherby, +if she had not been there. When you have travelled three thousand +miles to enjoy the hospitality of a friend who does near-Greek +dances at a popular restaurant, the least you can do is to go to +the restaurant and watch her step. Claire had arrived with Polly +Wetherby and Mr Dudley Pickering at about the time when Nutty, his +gloom melting rapidly, was instructing the waiter to open the +second bottle. + +Of Claire's movements between the time when she secured her ticket +at the steamship offices at Southampton and the moment when she +entered Reigelheimer's Restaurant it is not necessary to give a +detailed record. She had had the usual experiences of the ocean +voyager. She had fed, read, and gone to bed. The only notable +event in her trip had been her intimacy with Mr Dudley Pickering. + +Dudley Pickering was a middle-aged Middle Westerner, who by thrift +and industry had amassed a considerable fortune out of automobiles. +Everybody spoke well of Dudley Pickering. The papers spoke well of +him, Bradstreet spoke well of him, and he spoke well of himself. On +board the liner he had poured the saga of his life into Claire's +attentive ears, and there was a gentle sweetness in her manner which +encouraged Mr Pickering mightily, for he had fallen in love with +Claire on sight. + +It would seem that a schoolgirl in these advanced days would know +what to do when she found that a man worth millions was in love +with her; yet there were factors in the situation which gave +Claire pause. Lord Dawlish, of course, was one of them. She had +not mentioned Lord Dawlish to Mr Pickering, and--doubtless lest +the sight of it might pain him--she had abstained from wearing her +engagement ring during the voyage. But she had not completely lost +sight of the fact that she was engaged to Bill. Another thing that +caused her to hesitate was the fact that Dudley Pickering, however +wealthy, was a most colossal bore. As far as Claire could +ascertain on their short acquaintance, he had but one subject of +conversation--automobiles. + +To Claire an automobile was a shiny thing with padded seats, in +which you rode if you were lucky enough to know somebody who owned +one. She had no wish to go more deeply into the matter. Dudley +Pickering's attitude towards automobiles, on the other hand, more +nearly resembled that of a surgeon towards the human body. To him +a car was something to dissect, something with an interior both +interesting to explore and fascinating to talk about. Claire +listened with a radiant display of interest, but she had her +doubts as to whether any amount of money would make it worth while +to undergo this sort of thing for life. She was still in this +hesitant frame of mind when she entered Reigelheimer's Restaurant, +and it perturbed her that she could not come to some definite +decision on Mr Pickering, for those subtle signs which every woman +can recognize and interpret told her that the latter, having paved +the way by talking machinery for a week, was about to boil over +and speak of higher things. + +At the very next opportunity, she was certain, he intended to +propose. + +The presence of Lady Wetherby acted as a temporary check on the +development of the situation, but after they had been seated at +their table a short time the lights of the restaurant were +suddenly lowered, a coloured limelight became manifest near the +roof, and classical music made itself heard from the fiddles in +the orchestra. + +You could tell it was classical, because the banjo players were +leaning back and chewing gum; and in New York restaurants only +death or a classical speciality can stop banjoists. + +There was a spatter of applause, and Lady Wetherby rose. + +'This,' she explained to Claire, 'is where I do my stunt. Watch +it. I invented the steps myself. Classical stuff. It's called the +Dream of Psyche.' + +It was difficult for one who knew her as Claire did to associate +Polly Wetherby with anything classical. On the road, in England, +when they had been fellow-members of the Number Two company of +_The Heavenly Waltz_, Polly had been remarkable chiefly for a +fund of humorous anecdote and a gift, amounting almost to genius, +for doing battle with militant landladies. And renewing their +intimacy after a hiatus of a little less than a year Claire had +found her unchanged. + +It was a truculent affair, this Dream of Psyche. It was not so much +dancing as shadow boxing. It began mildly enough to the accompaniment +of _pizzicato_ strains from the orchestra--Psyche in her training +quarters. _Rallentando_--Psyche punching the bag. _Diminuendo_--Psyche +using the medicine ball. _Presto_--Psyche doing road work. _Forte_--The +night of the fight. And then things began to move to a climax. With +the fiddles working themselves to the bone and the piano bounding +under its persecutor's blows, Lady Wetherby ducked, side-stepped, +rushed, and sprang, moving her arms in a manner that may have been +classical Greek, but to the untrained eye looked much more like the +last round of some open-air bout. + +It was half-way through the exhibition, when you could smell the +sawdust and hear the seconds shouting advice under the ropes, that +Claire, who, never having seen anything in her life like this +extraordinary performance, had been staring spellbound, awoke to +the realization that Dudley Pickering was proposing to her. It +required a woman's intuition to divine this fact, for Mr Pickering +was not coherent. He did not go straight to the point. He rambled. +But Claire understood, and it came to her that this thing had +taken her before she was ready. In a brief while she would have to +give an answer of some sort, and she had not clearly decided what +answer she meant to give. + +Then, while he was still skirting his subject, before he had +wandered to what he really wished to say, the music stopped, the +applause broke out again, and Lady Wetherby returned to the table +like a pugilist seeking his corner at the end of a round. Her face +was flushed and she was breathing hard. + +'They pay me money for that!' she observed, genially. 'Can you +beat it?' + +The spell was broken. Mr Pickering sank back in his chair in a +punctured manner. And Claire, making monosyllabic replies to her +friend's remarks, was able to bend her mind to the task of finding +out how she stood on this important Pickering issue. That he would +return to the attack as soon as possible she knew; and the next +time she must have her attitude clearly defined one way or the +other. + +Lady Wetherby, having got the Dance of Psyche out of her system, +and replaced it with a glass of iced coffee, was inclined for +conversation. + +'Algie called me up on the phone this evening, Claire.' + +'Yes?' + +Claire was examining Mr Pickering with furtive side glances. He +was not handsome, nor, on the other hand, was he repulsive. +'Undistinguished' was the adjective that would have described him. +He was inclined to stoutness, but not unpardonably so; his hair +was thin, but he was not aggressively bald; his face was dull, but +certainly not stupid. There was nothing in his outer man which his +millions would not offset. As regarded his other qualities, his +conversation was certainly not exhilarating. But that also was +not, under certain conditions, an unforgivable thing. No, looking +at the matter all round and weighing it with care, the real +obstacle, Claire decided, was not any quality or lack of qualities +in Dudley Pickering--it was Lord Dawlish and the simple fact that +it would be extremely difficult, if she discarded him in favour of a +richer man without any ostensible cause, to retain her self-respect. + +'I think he's weakening.' + +'Yes?' + +Yes, that was the crux of the matter. She wanted to retain her +good opinion of herself. And in order to achieve that end it was +essential that she find some excuse, however trivial, for breaking +off the engagement. + +'Yes?' + +A waiter approached the table. + +'Mr Pickering!' + +The thwarted lover came to life with a start. + +'Eh?' + +'A gentleman wishes to speak to you on the telephone.' + +'Oh, yes. I was expecting a long-distance call, Lady Wetherby, and +left word I would be here. Will you excuse me?' + +Lady Wetherby watched him as he bustled across the room. + +'What do you think of him, Claire?' + +'Mr Pickering? I think he's very nice.' + +'He admires you frantically. I hoped he would. That's why I wanted +you to come over on the same ship with him.' + +'Polly! I had no notion you were such a schemer.' + +'I would just love to see you two fix it up,' continued Lady +Wetherby, earnestly. 'He may not be what you might call a genius, +but he's a darned good sort; and all his millions help, don't +they? You don't want to overlook these millions, Claire!' + +'I do like Mr Pickering.' + +'Claire, he asked me if you were engaged.' + +'What!' + +'When I told him you weren't, he beamed. Honestly, you've only got +to lift your little finger and--Oh, good Lord, there's Algie!' + +Claire looked up. A dapper, trim little man of about forty was +threading his way among the tables in their direction. It was a +year since Claire had seen Lord Wetherby, but she recognized him +at once. He had a red, weather-beaten face with a suspicion of +side-whiskers, small, pink-rimmed eyes with sandy eyebrows, the +smoothest of sandy hair, and a chin so cleanly shaven that it was +difficult to believe that hair had ever grown there. Although his +evening-dress was perfect in every detail, he conveyed a subtle +suggestion of horsiness. He reached the table and sat down without +invitation in the vacant chair. + +'Pauline!' he said, sorrowfully. + +'Algie!' said Lady Wetherby, tensely. 'I don't know what you've +come here for, and I don't remember asking you to sit down and put +your elbows on that table, but I want to begin by saying that I +will not be called Pauline. My name's Polly. You've got a way of +saying Pauline, as if it were a gentlemanly cuss-word, that makes +me want to scream. And while you're about it, why don't you say +how-d'you-do to Claire? You ought to remember her, she was my +bridesmaid.' + +'How do you do, Miss Fenwick. Of course, I remember you perfectly. +I'm glad to see you again.' + +'And now, Algie, what is it? Why have you come here?' Lord +Wetherby looked doubtfully at Claire. 'Oh, that's all right,' said +Lady Wetherby. 'Claire knows all about it--I told her.' + +'Then I appeal to Miss Fenwick, if, as you say, she knows all the +facts of the case, to say whether it is reasonable to expect a man +of my temperament, a nervous, highly-strung artist, to welcome the +presence of snakes at the breakfast-table. I trust that I am not +an unreasonable man, but I decline to admit that a long, green +snake is a proper thing to keep about the house.' + +'You had no right to strike the poor thing.' + +'In that one respect I was perhaps a little hasty. I happened to +be stirring my tea at the moment his head rose above the edge of +the table. I was not entirely myself that morning. My nerves were +somewhat disordered. I had lain awake much of the night planning a +canvas.' + +'Planning a what?' + +'A canvas--a picture.' + +Lady Wetherby turned to Claire. + +'I want you to listen to Algie, Claire. A year ago he did not know +one end of a paint-brush from the other. He didn't know he had any +nerves. If you had brought him the artistic temperament on a plate +with a bit of watercress round it, he wouldn't have recognized it. +And now, just because he's got a studio, he thinks he has a right +to go up in the air if you speak to him suddenly and run about the +place hitting snakes with teaspoons as if he were Michelangelo!' + +'You do me an injustice. It is true that as an artist I developed +late--But why should we quarrel? If it will help to pave the way +to a renewed understanding between us, I am prepared to apologize +for striking Clarence. That is conciliatory, I think, Miss +Fenwick?' + +'Very.' + +'Miss Fenwick considers my attitude conciliatory.' + +'It's something,' admitted Lady Wetherby, grudgingly. + +Lord Wetherby drained the whisky-and-soda which Dudley Pickering +had left behind him, and seemed to draw strength from it, for he +now struck a firmer note. + +'But, though expressing regret for my momentary loss of self-control, +I cannot recede from the position I have taken up as regards the +essential unfitness of Clarence's presence in the home.' + +Lady Wetherby looked despairingly at Claire. + +'The very first words I heard Algie speak, Claire, were at +Newmarket during the three o'clock race one May afternoon. He was +hanging over the rail, yelling like an Indian, and what he was +yelling was, "Come on, you blighter, come on! By the living jingo, +Brickbat wins in a walk!" And now he's talking about receding from +essential positions! Oh, well, he wasn't an artist then!' + +'My dear Pau--Polly. I am purposely picking my words on the +present occasion in order to prevent the possibility of further +misunderstandings. I consider myself an ambassador.' + +'You would be shocked if you knew what I consider you!' + +'I am endeavouring to the best of my ability--' + +'Algie, listen to me! I am quite calm at present, but there's no +knowing how soon I may hit you with a chair if you don't come to +earth quick and talk like an ordinary human being. What is it that +you are driving at?' + +'Very well, it's this: I'll come home if you get rid of that +snake.' + +'Never!' + +'It's surely not much to ask of you, Polly?' + +'I won't!' + +Lord Wetherby sighed. + +'When I led you to the altar,' he said, reproachfully, 'you +promised to love, honour, and obey me. I thought at the time it +was a bit of swank!' + +Lady Wetherby's manner thawed. She became more friendly. + +'When you talk like that, Algie, I feel there's hope for you after +all. That's how you used to talk in the dear old days when you'd +come to me to borrow half-a-crown to put on a horse! Listen, now +that at last you seem to be getting more reasonable; I wish I +could make you understand that I don't keep Clarence for sheer +love of him. He's a commercial asset. He's an advertisement. You +must know that I have got to have something to--' + +'I admit that may be so as regards the monkey, Eustace. Monkeys as +aids to publicity have, I believe, been tested and found valuable +by other artistes. I am prepared to accept Eustace, but the snake +is worthless.' + +'Oh, you don't object to Eustace, then?' + +'I do strongly, but I concede his uses.' + +'You would live in the same house as Eustace?' + +'I would endeavour to do so. But not in the same house as Eustace +and Clarence.' + +There was a pause. + +'I don't know that I'm so stuck on Clarence myself,' said Lady +Wetherby, weakly. + +'My darling!' + +'Wait a minute. I've not said I would get rid of him.' + +'But you will?' + +Lady Wetherby's hesitation lasted but a moment. 'All right, Algie. +I'll send him to the Zoo to-morrow.' + +'My precious pet!' + +A hand, reaching under the table, enveloped Claire's in a loving +clasp. + +From the look on Lord Wetherby's face she supposed that he was +under the delusion that he was bestowing this attention on his +wife. + +'You know, Algie, darling,' said Lady Wetherby, melting completely, +'when you get that yearning note in your voice I just flop and take +the full count.' + +'My sweetheart, when I saw you doing that Dream of +What's-the-girl's-bally-name dance just now, it was all I could +do to keep from rushing out on to the floor and hugging you.' + +'Algie!' + +'Polly!' + +'Do you mind letting go of my hand, please, Lord Wetherby?' said +Claire, on whom these saccharine exchanges were beginning to have +a cloying effect. + +For a moment Lord Wetherby seemed somewhat confused, but, pulling +himself together, he covered his embarrassment with a pomposity +that blended poorly with his horsy appearance. + +'Married life, Miss Fenwick,' he said, 'as you will no doubt +discover some day, must always be a series of mutual compromises, +of cheerful give and take. The lamp of love--' + +His remarks were cut short by a crash at the other end of the +room. There was a sharp cry and the splintering of glass. The +place was full of a sudden, sharp confusion. They jumped up with +one accord. Lady Wetherby spilled her iced coffee; Lord Wetherby +dropped the lamp of love. Claire, who was nearest the pillar that +separated them from the part of the restaurant where the accident +had happened, was the first to see what had taken place. + +A large man, dancing with a large girl, appeared to have charged +into a small waiter, upsetting him and his tray and the contents +of his tray. The various actors in the drama were now engaged in +sorting themselves out from the ruins. The man had his back toward +her, and it seemed to Claire that there was something familiar +about that back. Then he turned, and she recognized Lord Dawlish. + +She stood transfixed. For a moment surprise was her only emotion. +How came Bill to be in America? Then other feelings blended with +her surprise. It is a fact that Lord Dawlish was looking +singularly uncomfortable. + +Claire's eyes travelled from Bill to his partner and took in with +one swift feminine glance her large, exuberant blondeness. There +is no denying that, seen with a somewhat biased eye, the Good +Sport resembled rather closely a poster advertising a revue. + +Claire returned to her seat. Lord and Lady Wetherby continued to +talk, but she allowed them to conduct the conversation without her +assistance. + +'You're very quiet, Claire,' said Polly. + +'I'm thinking.' + +'A very good thing, too, so they tell me. I've never tried it +myself. Algie, darling, he was a bad boy to leave his nice home, +wasn't he? He didn't deserve to have his hand held.' + + + + +8 + + +It had been a great night for Nutty Boyd. If the vision of his +sister Elizabeth, at home at the farm speculating sadly on the +whereabouts of her wandering boy, ever came before his mental eye +he certainly did not allow it to interfere with his appreciation +of the festivities. At Frolics in the Air, whither they moved +after draining Reigelheimer's of what joys it had to offer, and at +Peale's, where they went after wearying of Frolics in the Air, he +was in the highest spirits. It was only occasionally that the +recollection came to vex him that this could not last, that--since +his Uncle Ira had played him false--he must return anon to the +place whence he had come. + +Why, in a city of all-night restaurants, these parties ever break +up one cannot say, but a merciful Providence sees to it that they +do, and just as Lord Dawlish was contemplating an eternity of the +company of Nutty and his two companions, the end came. Miss +Leonard said that she was tired. Her friend said that it was a +shame to go home at dusk like this, but, if the party was going to +be broken up, she supposed there was nothing else for it. Bill was +too sleepy to say anything. + +The Good Sport lived round the corner, and only required Lord +Dawlish's escort for a couple of hundred yards. But Miss Leonard's +hotel was in the neighbourhood of Washington Square, and it was +Nutty's pleasing task to drive her thither. Engaged thus, he +received a shock that electrified him. + +'That pal of yours,' said Miss Leonard, drowsily--she was +half-asleep--'what did you say his name was?' + +'Chalmers, he told me. I only met him to-night.' + +'Well, it isn't; it's something else. It'--Miss Leonard +yawned--'it's Lord something.' + +'How do you mean, "Lord something"?' + +'He's a lord--at least, he was when I met him in London.' + +'Are you sure you met him in London?' + +'Of course I'm sure. He was at that supper Captain Delaney gave at +Oddy's. There can't be two men in England who dance like that!' + +The recollection of Bill's performance stimulated Miss Leonard +into a temporary wakefulness, and she giggled. + +'He danced just the same way that night in London. I wish I could +remember his name. I almost had it a dozen times tonight. It's +something with a window in it.' + +'A window?' Nutty's brain was a little fatigued and he felt +himself unequal to grasping this. 'How do you mean, a window?' + +'No, not a window--a door! I knew it was something about a house. +I know now, his name's Lord Dawlish.' + +Nutty's fatigue fell from him like a garment. + +'It can't be!' + +'It is.' + +Miss Leonard's eyes had closed and she spoke in a muffled voice. + +'Are you sure?' + +'Mm-mm.' + +'By gad!' + +Nutty was wide awake now and full of inquiries; but his companion +unfortunately was asleep, and he could not put them to her. A +gentleman cannot prod a lady--and his guest, at that--in the ribs +in order to wake her up and ask her questions. Nutty sat back and +gave himself up to feverish thought. + +He could think of no reason why Lord Dawlish should have come to +America calling himself William Chalmers, but that was no reason +why he should not have done so. And Daisy Leonard, who all along +had remembered meeting him in London, had identified him. + +Nutty was convinced. Arriving finally at Miss Leonard's hotel, he +woke her up and saw her in at the door; then, telling the man to +drive to the lodgings of his new friend, he urged his mind to +rapid thought. He had decided as a first step in the following up +of this matter to invite Bill down to Elizabeth's farm, and the +thought occurred to him that this had better be done to-night, for +he knew by experience that on the morning after these little +jaunts he was seldom in the mood to seek people out and invite +them to go anywhere. + +All the way to the flat he continued to think, and it was +wonderful what possibilities there seemed to be in this little +scheme of courting the society of the man who had robbed him of +his inheritance. He had worked on Bill's feelings so successfully +as to elicit a loan of a million dollars, and was just proceeding +to marry him to Elizabeth, when the cab stopped with the sudden +sharpness peculiar to New York cabs, and he woke up, to find +himself at his destination. + +Bill was in bed when the bell rang, and received his late host in +his pyjamas, wondering, as he did so, whether this was the New +York custom, to foregather again after a party had been broken up, +and chat till breakfast. But Nutty, it seemed, had come with a +motive, not from a desire for more conversation. + +'Sorry to disturb you, old man,' said Nutty. 'I looked in to tell +you that I was going down to the country to-morrow. I wondered +whether you would care to come and spend a day or two with us.' + +Bill was delighted. This was better than he had hoped for. + +'Rather!' he said. 'Thanks awfully!' + +'There are plenty of trains in the afternoon,' said Nutty. 'I +don't suppose either of us will feel like getting up early. I'll +call for you here at half-past six, and we'll have an early dinner +and catch the seven-fifteen, shall we? We live very simply, you +know. You won't mind that?' + +'My dear chap!' + +'That's all right, then,' said Nutty, closing the door. 'Good +night.' + + + + +9 + + +Elizabeth entered Nutty's room and, seating herself on the bed, +surveyed him with a bright, quiet eye that drilled holes in her +brother's uneasy conscience. This was her second visit to him that +morning. She had come an hour ago, bearing breakfast on a tray, +and had departed without saying a word. It was this uncanny +silence of hers even more than the effects--which still lingered--of +his revels in the metropolis that had interfered with Nutty's +enjoyment of the morning meal. Never a hearty breakfaster, he had +found himself under the influence of her wordless disapproval +physically unable to consume the fried egg that confronted him. He +had given it one look; then, endorsing the opinion which he had +once heard a character in a play utter in somewhat similar +circumstances--that there was nothing on earth so homely as an +egg--he had covered it with a handkerchief and tried to pull +himself round with hot tea. He was now smoking a sad cigarette and +waiting for the blow to fall. + +Her silence had puzzled him. Though he had tried to give her no +opportunity of getting him alone on the previous evening when he +had arrived at the farm with Lord Dawlish, he had fully expected +that she would have broken in upon him with abuse and recrimination +in the middle of the night. Yet she had not done this, nor had she +spoken to him when bringing him his breakfast. These things found +their explanation in Elizabeth's character, with which Nutty, though +he had known her so long, was but imperfectly acquainted. Elizabeth +had never been angrier with her brother, but an innate goodness of +heart had prevented her falling upon him before he had had rest and +refreshment. + +She wanted to massacre him, but at the same time she told herself +that the poor dear must be feeling very, very ill, and should have +a reasonable respite before the slaughter commenced. + +It was plain that in her opinion this respite had now lasted long +enough. She looked over her shoulder to make sure that she had +closed the door, then leaned a little forward and spoke. + +'Now, Nutty!' + +The wretched youth attempted bluster. + +'What do you mean--"Now, Nutty"? What's the use of looking at a +fellow like that and saying "Now, Nutty"? Where's the sense--' + +His voice trailed off. He was not a very intelligent young man, +but even he could see that his was not a position where righteous +indignation could be assumed with any solid chance of success. As +a substitute he tried pathos. + +'Oo-oo, my head does ache!' + +'I wish it would burst,' said his sister, unkindly. + +'That's a nice thing to say to a fellow!' + +'I'm sorry. I wouldn't have said it--' + +'Oh, well!' + +'Only I couldn't think of anything worse.' + +It began to seem to Nutty that pathos was a bit of a failure too. +As a last resort he fell back on silence. He wriggled as far down +as he could beneath the sheets and breathed in a soft and wounded +sort of way. Elizabeth took up the conversation. + +'Nutty,' she said, 'I've struggled for years against the +conviction that you were a perfect idiot. I've forced myself, +against my better judgement, to try to look on you as sane, but +now I give in. I can't believe you are responsible for your +actions. Don't imagine that I am going to heap you with reproaches +because you sneaked off to New York. I'm not even going to tell +you what I thought of you for not sending me a telegram, letting +me know where you were. I can understand all that. You were +disappointed because Uncle Ira had not left you his money, and I +suppose that was your way of working it off. If you had just run +away and come back again with a headache, I'd have treated you +like the Prodigal Son. But there are some things which are too +much, and bringing a perfect stranger back with you for an +indefinite period is one of them. I'm not saying anything against +Mr Chalmers personally. I haven't had time to find out much about +him, except that he's an Englishman; but he looks respectable. +Which, as he's a friend of yours, is more or less of a miracle.' + +She raised her eyebrows as a faint moan of protest came from +beneath the sheets. + +'You surely,' she said, 'aren't going to suggest at this hour of +the day, Nutty, that your friends aren't the most horrible set of +pests outside a prison? Not that it's likely after all these +months that they are outside a prison. You know perfectly well +that while you were running round New York you collected the most +pernicious bunch of rogues that ever fastened their talons into a +silly child who ought never to have been allowed out without his +nurse.' After which complicated insult Elizabeth paused for +breath, and there was silence for a space. + +'Well, as I was saying, I know nothing against this Mr Chalmers. +Probably his finger-prints are in the Rogues' Gallery, and he is +better known to the police as Jack the Blood, or something, but he +hasn't shown that side of him yet. My point is that, whoever he +is, I do not want him or anybody else coming and taking up his +abode here while I have to be cook and housemaid too. I object to +having a stranger on the premises spying out the nakedness of the +land. I am sensitive about my honest poverty. So, darling Nutty, +my precious Nutty, you poor boneheaded muddler, will you kindly +think up at your earliest convenience some plan for politely +ejecting this Mr Chalmers of yours from our humble home?--because +if you don't, I'm going to have a nervous breakdown.' + +And, completely restored to good humour by her own eloquence, +Elizabeth burst out laughing. It was a trait in her character +which she had often lamented, that she could not succeed in +keeping angry with anyone for more than a few minutes on end. +Sooner or later some happy selection of a phrase of abuse would +tickle her sense of humour, or the appearance of her victim would +become too funny not to be laughed at. On the present occasion it +was the ridiculous spectacle of Nutty cowering beneath the +bedclothes that caused her wrath to evaporate. She made a weak +attempt to recover it. She glared at Nutty, who at the sound of +her laughter had emerged from under the clothes like a worm after +a thunderstorm. + +'I mean it,' she said. 'It really is too bad of you! You might +have had some sense and a little consideration. Ask yourself if we +are in a position here to entertain visitors. Well, I'm going to +make myself very unpopular with this Mr Chalmers of yours. By this +evening he will be regarding me with utter loathing, for I am +about to persecute him.' + +'What do you mean?' asked Nutty, alarmed. + +'I am going to begin by asking him to help me open one of the +hives.' + +'For goodness' sake!' + +'After that I shall--with his assistance--transfer some honey. And +after that--well, I don't suppose he will be alive by then. If he +is, I shall make him wash the dishes for me. The least he can do, +after swooping down on us like this, is to make himself useful.' + +A cry of protest broke from the appalled Nutty, but Elizabeth did +not hear it. She had left the room and was on her way downstairs. + +Lord Dawlish was smoking an after-breakfast cigar in the grounds. +It was a beautiful day, and a peaceful happiness had come upon +him. He told himself that he had made progress. He was under the +same roof as the girl he had deprived of her inheritance, and it +should be simple to establish such friendly relations as would +enable him to reveal his identity and ask her to reconsider her +refusal to relieve him of a just share of her uncle's money. He +had seen Elizabeth for only a short time on the previous night, +but he had taken an immediate liking to her. There was something +about the American girl, he reflected, which seemed to put a man +at his ease, a charm and directness all her own. Yes, he liked +Elizabeth, and he liked this dwelling-place of hers. He was quite +willing to stay on here indefinitely. + +Nature had done well by Flack's. The house itself was more +pleasing to the eye than most of the houses in those parts, owing +to the black and white paint which decorated it and an unconventional +flattening and rounding of the roof. Nature, too, had made so many +improvements that the general effect was unusually delightful. + +Bill perceived Elizabeth coming toward him from the house. He +threw away his cigar and went to meet her. Seen by daylight, she +was more attractive than ever. She looked so small and neat and +wholesome, so extremely unlike Miss Daisy Leonard's friend. And +such was the reaction from what might be termed his later +Reigelheimer's mood that if he had been asked to define feminine +charm in a few words, he would have replied without hesitation +that it was the quality of being as different as possible in every +way from the Good Sport. Elizabeth fulfilled this qualification. +She was not only small and neat, but she had a soft voice to which +it was a joy to listen. + +'I was just admiring your place,' he said. + +'Its appearance is the best part of it,' said Elizabeth. 'It is a +deceptive place. The bay looks beautiful, but you can't bathe in +it because of the jellyfish. The woods are lovely, but you daren't +go near them because of the ticks.' + +'Ticks?' + +'They jump on you and suck your blood,' said Elizabeth, carelessly. +'And the nights are gorgeous, but you have to stay indoors after +dusk because of the mosquitoes.' She paused to mark the effect of +these horrors on her visitor. 'And then, of course,' she went on, +as he showed no signs of flying to the house to pack his bag and +catch the next train, 'the bees are always stinging you. I hope you +are not afraid of bees, Mr Chalmers?' + +'Rather not. Jolly little chaps!' + +A gleam appeared in Elizabeth's eye. + +'If you are so fond of them, perhaps you wouldn't mind coming and +helping me open one of the hives?' + +'Rather!' + +'I'll go and fetch the things.' + +She went into the house and ran up to Nutty's room, waking that +sufferer from a troubled sleep. + +'Nutty, he's bitten.' + +Nutty sat up violently. + +'Good gracious! What by?' + +'You don't understand. What I meant was that I invited your Mr +Chalmers to help me open a hive, and he said "Rather!" and is +waiting to do it now. Be ready to say good-bye to him. If he comes +out of this alive, his first act, after bathing the wounds with +ammonia, will be to leave us for ever.' + +'But look here, he's a visitor--' + +'Cheer up! He won't be much longer.' + +'You can't let him in for a ghastly thing like opening a hive. +When you made me do it that time I was picking stings out of +myself for a week.' + +'That was because you had been smoking. Bees dislike the smell of +tobacco.' + +'But this fellow may have been smoking.' + +'He has just finished a strong cigar.' + +'For Heaven's sake!' + +'Good-bye, Nutty, dear; I mustn't keep him waiting.' + +Lord Dawlish looked with interest at the various implements which +she had collected when she rejoined him outside. He relieved her +of the stool, the smoker, the cotton-waste, the knife, the +screwdriver, and the queen-clipping cage. + +'Let me carry these for you,' he said, 'unless you've hired a +van.' + +Elizabeth disapproved of this flippancy. It was out of place in +one who should have been trembling at the prospect of doom. + +'Don't you wear a veil for this sort of job?' + +As a rule Elizabeth did. She had reached a stage of intimacy with +her bees which rendered a veil a superfluous precaution, but until +to-day she had never abandoned it. Her view of the matter was +that, though the inhabitants of the hives were familiar and +friendly with her by this time and recognized that she came among +them without hostile intent, it might well happen that among so +many thousands there might be one slow-witted enough and obtuse +enough not to have grasped this fact. And in such an event a veil +was better than any amount of explanations, for you cannot stick +to pure reason when quarrelling with bees. + +But to-day it had struck her that she could hardly protect herself +in this way without offering a similar safeguard to her visitor, +and she had no wish to hedge him about with safeguards. + +'Oh, no,' she said, brightly; 'I'm not afraid of a few bees. Are +you?' + +'Rather not!' + +'You know what to do if one of them flies at you?' + +'Well, it would, anyway--what? What I mean to say is, I could +leave most of the doing to the bee.' + +Elizabeth was more disapproving than ever. This was mere bravado. +She did not speak again until they reached the hives. + +In the neighbourhood of the hives a vast activity prevailed. What, +heard from afar, had been a pleasant murmur became at close +quarters a menacing tumult. The air was full of bees--bees +sallying forth for honey, bees returning with honey, bees +trampling on each other's heels, bees pausing in mid-air to pass +the time of day with rivals on competing lines of traffic. +Blunt-bodied drones whizzed to and fro with a noise like miniature +high-powered automobiles, as if anxious to convey the idea of being +tremendously busy without going to the length of doing any actual +work. One of these blundered into Lord Dawlish's face, and it +pleased Elizabeth to observe that he gave a jump. + +'Don't be afraid,' she said, 'it's only a drone. Drones have no +stings.' + +'They have hard heads, though. Here he comes again!' + +'I suppose he smells your tobacco. A drone has thirty-seven +thousand eight hundred nostrils, you know.' + +'That gives him a sporting chance of smelling a cigar--what? I +mean to say, if he misses with eight hundred of his nostrils he's +apt to get it with the other thirty-seven thousand.' + +Elizabeth was feeling annoyed with her bees. They resolutely +declined to sting this young man. Bees flew past him, bees flew +into him, bees settled upon his coat, bees paused questioningly in +front of him, as who should say, 'What have we here?' but not a +single bee molested him. Yet when Nutty, poor darling, went within +a dozen yards of the hives he never failed to suffer for it. In +her heart Elizabeth knew perfectly well that this was because +Nutty, when in the presence of the bees, lost his head completely +and behaved like an exaggerated version of Lady Wetherby's Dream +of Psyche, whereas Bill maintained an easy calm; but at the moment +she put the phenomenon down to that inexplicable cussedness which +does so much to exasperate the human race, and it fed her +annoyance with her unbidden guest. + +Without commenting on his last remark, she took the smoker from +him and set to work. She inserted in the fire-chamber a handful of +the cotton-waste and set fire to it; then with a preliminary puff +or two of the bellows to make sure that the conflagration had not +gone out, she aimed the nozzle at the front door of the hive. + +The results were instantaneous. One or two bee-policemen, who were +doing fixed point-duty near the opening, scuttled hastily back +into the hive; and from within came a muffled buzzing as other +bees, all talking at once, worried the perplexed officials with +foolish questions, a buzzing that became less muffled and more +pronounced as Elizabeth lifted the edge of the cover and directed +more smoke through the crack. This done, she removed the cover, +set it down on the grass beside her, lifted the super-cover and +applied more smoke, and raised her eyes to where Bill stood +watching. His face wore a smile of pleased interest. + +Elizabeth's irritation became painful. She resented his smile. She +hung the smoker on the side of the hive. + +'The stool, please, and the screw-driver.' + +She seated herself beside the hive and began to loosen the outside +section. Then taking the brood-frame by the projecting ends, she +pulled it out and handed it to her companion. She did it as one +who plays an ace of trumps. + +'Would you mind holding this, Mr Chalmers?' + +This was the point in the ceremony at which the wretched Nutty had +broken down absolutely, and not inexcusably, considering the +severity of the test. The surface of the frame was black with what +appeared at first sight to be a thick, bubbling fluid of some +sort, pouring viscously to and fro as if some hidden fire had been +lighted beneath it. Only after a closer inspection was it apparent +to the lay eye that this seeming fluid was in reality composed of +mass upon mass of bees. They shoved and writhed and muttered and +jostled, for all the world like a collection of home-seeking City +men trying to secure standing room on the Underground at half-past +five in the afternoon. + +Nutty, making this discovery, had emitted one wild yell, dropped +the frame, and started at full speed for the house, his retreat +expedited by repeated stings from the nervous bees. Bill, more +prudent, remained absolutely motionless. He eyed the seething +frame with interest, but without apparent panic. + +'I want you to help me here, Mr Chalmers. You have stronger wrists +than I have. I will tell you what to do. Hold the frame tightly.' + +'I've got it.' + +'Jerk it down as sharply as you can to within a few inches of the +door, and then jerk it up again. You see, that shakes them off.' + +'It would me,' agreed Bill, cordially, 'if I were a bee.' + +Elizabeth had the feeling that she had played her ace of trumps +and by some miracle lost the trick. If this grisly operation did +not daunt the man, nothing, not even the transferring of honey, +would. She watched him as he raised the frame and jerked it down +with a strong swiftness which her less powerful wrists had never +been able to achieve. The bees tumbled off in a dense shower, +asking questions to the last; then, sighting the familiar entrance +to the hive, they bustled in without waiting to investigate the +cause of the earthquake. + +Lord Dawlish watched them go with a kindly interest. + +'It has always been a mystery to me,' he said, 'why they never +seem to think of manhandling the Johnny who does that to them. +They don't seem able to connect cause and effect. I suppose the +only way they can figure it out is that the bottom has suddenly +dropped out of everything, and they are so busy lighting out for +home that they haven't time to go to the root of things. But it's +a ticklish job, for all that, if you're not used to it. I know +when I first did it I shut my eyes and wondered whether they would +bury my remains or cremate them.' + +'When you first did it?' Elizabeth was staring at him blankly. +'Have you done it before?' + +Her voice shook. Bill met her gaze frankly. + +'Done it before? Rather! Thousands of times. You see, I spent a +year on a bee-farm once, learning the business.' + +For a moment mortification was the only emotion of which Elizabeth +was conscious. She felt supremely ridiculous. For this she had +schemed and plotted--to give a practised expert the opportunity of +doing what he had done a thousand times before! + +And then her mood changed in a flash. Nature has decreed that +there are certain things in life which shall act as hoops of +steel, grappling the souls of the elect together. Golf is one of +these; a mutual love of horseflesh another; but the greatest of +all is bees. Between two beekeepers there can be no strife. Not +even a tepid hostility can mar their perfect communion. + +The petty enmities which life raises to be barriers between man +and man and between man and woman vanish once it is revealed to +them that they are linked by this great bond. Envy, malice, +hatred, and all uncharitableness disappear, and they look into +each other's eyes and say 'My brother!' + +The effect of Bill's words on Elizabeth was revolutionary. They +crashed through her dislike, scattering it like an explosive +shell. She had resented this golden young man's presence at the +farm. She had thought him in the way. She had objected to his +becoming aware that she did such prosaic tasks as cooking and +washing-up. But now her whole attitude toward him was changed. She +reflected that he was there. He could stay there as long as he +liked, the longer the better. + +'You have really kept bees?' + +'Not actually kept them, worse luck! I couldn't raise the capital. +You see, money was a bit tight--' + +'I know,' said Elizabeth, sympathetically. 'Money is like that, +isn't it?' + +'The general impression seemed to be that I should be foolish to +try anything so speculative as beekeeping, so it fell through. +Some very decent old boys got me another job.' + +'What job?' + +'Secretary to a club.' + +'In London, of course?' + +'Yes.' + +'And all the time you wanted to be in the country keeping bees!' + +Elizabeth could hardly control her voice, her pity was so great. + +'I should have liked it,' said Bill, wistfully. 'London's all +right, but I love the country. My ambition would be to have a +whacking big farm, a sort of ranch, miles away from anywhere--' + +He broke off. This was not the first time he had caught himself +forgetting how his circumstances had changed in the past few +weeks. It was ridiculous to be telling hard-luck stories about not +being able to buy a farm, when he had the wherewithal to buy +dozens of farms. It took a lot of getting used to, this business +of being a millionaire. + +'That's my ambition too,' said Elizabeth, eagerly. This was the +very first time she had met a congenial spirit. Nutty's views on +farming and the Arcadian life generally were saddening to an +enthusiast. 'If I had the money I should get an enormous farm, and +in the summer I should borrow all the children I could find, and +take them out to it and let them wallow in it.' + +'Wouldn't they do a lot of damage?' + +'I shouldn't mind. I should be too rich to worry about the damage. +If they ruined the place beyond repair I'd go and buy another.' +She laughed. 'It isn't so impossible as it sounds. I came very +near being able to do it.' She paused for a moment, but went on +almost at once. After all, if you cannot confide your intimate +troubles to a fellow bee-lover, to whom can you confide them? 'An +uncle of mine--' + +Bill felt himself flushing. He looked away from her. He had a +sense of almost unbearable guilt, as if he had just done some +particularly low crime and was contemplating another. + +'--An uncle of mine would have left me enough money to buy all the +farms I wanted, only an awful person, an English lord. I wonder if +you have heard of him?--Lord Dawlish--got hold of uncle somehow +and induced him to make a will leaving all the money to him.' + +She looked at Bill for sympathy, and was touched to see that he +was crimson with emotion. He must be a perfect dear to take other +people's misfortunes to heart like that. + +'I don't know how he managed it,' she went on. 'He must have +worked and plotted and schemed, for Uncle Ira wasn't a weak sort +of man whom you could do what you liked with. He was very +obstinate. But, anyway, this Lord Dawlish succeeded in doing it +somehow, and then'--her eyes blazed at the recollection--'he had +the insolence to write to me through his lawyers offering me half. +I suppose he was hoping to satisfy his conscience. Naturally I +refused it.' + +'But--but--but why?' + +'Why! Why did I refuse it? Surely you don't think I was going to +accept charity from the man who had cheated me?' + +'But--but perhaps he didn't mean it like that. What I mean to say +is--as charity, you know.' + +'He did! But don't let's talk of it any more. It makes me angry to +think of him, and there's no use spoiling a lovely day like this +by getting angry.' + +Bill sighed. He had never dreamed before that it could be so +difficult to give money away. He was profoundly glad that he had +not revealed his identity, as he had been on the very point of +doing just when she began her remarks. He understood now why that +curt refusal had come in answer to his lawyer's letter. Well, +there was nothing to do but wait and hope that time might +accomplish something. + +'What do you want me to do next?' he said. 'Why did you open the +hive? Did you want to take a look at the queen?' + +Elizabeth hesitated. She blushed with pure shame. She had had but +one motive in opening the hive, and that had been to annoy him. +She scorned to take advantage of the loophole he had provided. +Beekeeping is a freemasonry. A beekeeper cannot deceive a +brother-mason. + +She faced him bravely. + +'I didn't want to take a look at anything, Mr Chalmers. I opened +that hive because I wanted you to drop the frame, as my brother +did, and get stung, as he was; because I thought that would drive +you away, because I thought then that I didn't want you down here. +I'm ashamed of myself, and I don't know where I'm getting the +nerve to tell you this. I hope you will stay on--on and on and +on.' + +Bill was aghast. + +'Good Lord! If I'm in the way--' + +'You aren't in the way.' + +'But you said--' + +'But don't you see that it's so different now? I didn't know then +that you were fond of bees. You must stay, if my telling you +hasn't made you feel that you want to catch the next train. You +will save our lives--mine and Nutty's too. Oh, dear, you're +hesitating! You're trying to think up some polite way of getting +out of the place! You mustn't go, Mr Chalmers; you simply must +stay. There aren't any mosquitoes, no jellyfish--nothing! At +least, there are; but what do they matter? You don't mind them. Do +you play golf?' + +'Yes.' + +'There are links here. You can't go until you've tried them. What +is your handicap?' + +'Plus two.' + +'So is mine.' + +'By Jove! Really?' + +Elizabeth looked at him, her eyes dancing. + +'Why, we're practically twin souls, Mr Chalmers! Tell me, I know +your game is nearly perfect, but if you have a fault, is it a +tendency to putt too hard?' + +'Why, by Jove--yes, it is!' + +'I knew it. Something told me. It's the curse of my life too! +Well, after that you can't go away.' + +'But if I'm in the way--' + +'In the way! Mr Chalmers, will you come in now and help me wash +the breakfast things?' + +'Rather!' said Lord Dawlish. + + + + +10 + + +In the days that followed their interrupted love-scene at +Reigelheimer's Restaurant that night of Lord Dawlish's unfortunate +encounter with the tray-bearing waiter, Dudley Pickering's +behaviour had perplexed Claire Fenwick. She had taken it for +granted that next day at the latest he would resume the offer of +his hand, heart, and automobiles. But time passed and he made no +move in that direction. Of limousine bodies, carburettors, +spark-plugs, and inner tubes he spoke with freedom and eloquence, +but the subject of love and marriage he avoided absolutely. His +behaviour was inexplicable. + +Claire was piqued. She was in the position of a hostess who has +swept and garnished her house against the coming of a guest and +waits in vain for that guest's arrival. She made up her mind what +to do when Dudley Pickering proposed to her next time, and +thereby, it seemed to her, had removed all difficulties in the +way of that proposal. She little knew her Pickering! + +Dudley Pickering was not a self-starter in the motordrome of love. +He needed cranking. He was that most unpromising of matrimonial +material, a shy man with a cautious disposition. If he overcame +his shyness, caution applied the foot-brake. If he succeeded in +forgetting caution, shyness shut off the gas. At Reigelheimer's +some miracle had made him not only reckless but un-self-conscious. +Possibly the Dream of Psyche had gone to his head. At any rate, he +had been on the very verge of proposing to Claire when the +interruption had occurred, and in bed that night, reviewing the +affair, he had been appalled at the narrowness of his escape from +taking a definite step. Except in the way of business, he was a +man who hated definite steps. He never accepted even a dinner +invitation without subsequent doubts and remorse. The consequence +was that, in the days that followed the Reigelheimer episode, what +Lord Wetherby would have called the lamp of love burned rather low +in Mr Pickering, as if the acetylene were running out. He still +admired Claire intensely and experienced disturbing emotions when +he beheld her perfect tonneau and wonderful headlights; but he +regarded her with a cautious fear. Although he sometimes dreamed +sentimentally of marriage in the abstract, of actual marriage, of +marriage with a flesh-and-blood individual, of marriage that +involved clergymen and 'Voices that Breathe o'er Eden,' and +giggling bridesmaids and cake, Dudley Pickering was afraid with a +terror that woke him sweating in the night. His shyness shrank +from the ceremony, his caution jibbed at the mysteries of married +life. So his attitude toward Claire, the only girl who had +succeeded in bewitching him into the opening words of an actual +proposal, was a little less cordial and affectionate than if she +had been a rival automobile manufacturer. + +Matters were in this state when Lady Wetherby, who, having danced +classical dances for three months without a break, required a +rest, shifted her camp to the house which she had rented for the +summer at Brookport, Long Island, taking with her Algie, her +husband, the monkey Eustace, and Claire and Mr Pickering, her +guests. The house was a large one, capable of receiving a big +party, but she did not wish to entertain on an ambitious scale. +The only other guest she proposed to put up was Roscoe Sherriff, +her press agent, who was to come down as soon as he could get away +from his metropolitan duties. + +It was a pleasant and romantic place, the estate which Lady +Wetherby had rented. Standing on a hill, the house looked down +through green trees on the gleaming waters of the bay. Smooth +lawns and shady walks it had, and rustic seats beneath spreading +cedars. Yet for all its effect on Dudley Pickering it might have +been a gasworks. He roamed the smooth lawns with Claire, and sat +with her on the rustic benches and talked guardedly of lubricating +oil. There were moments when Claire was almost impelled to forfeit +whatever chance she might have had of becoming mistress of thirty +million dollars and a flourishing business, for the satisfaction +of administering just one whole-hearted slap on his round and +thinly-covered head. + +And then Roscoe Sherriff came down, and Dudley Pickering, who for +days had been using all his resolution to struggle against the +siren, suddenly found that there was no siren to struggle against. +No sooner had the press agent appeared than Claire deserted him +shamelessly and absolutely. She walked with Roscoe Sherriff. Mr +Pickering experienced the discomfiting emotions of the man who +pushes violently against an abruptly-yielding door, or treads +heavily on the top stair where there is no top stair. He was +shaken, and the clamlike stolidity which he had assumed as +protection gave way. + +Night had descended upon Brookport. Eustace, the monkey, was in +his little bed; Lord Wetherby in the smoking-room. It was Sunday, +the day of rest. Dinner was over, and the remainder of the party +were gathered in the drawing-room, with the exception of Mr +Pickering, who was smoking a cigar on the porch. A full moon +turned Long Island into a fairyland. + +Gloom had settled upon Dudley Pickering and he smoked sadly. All +rather stout automobile manufacturers are sad when there is a full +moon. It makes them feel lonely. It stirs their hearts to thoughts +of love. Marriage loses its terrors for them, and they think +wistfully of hooking some fair woman up the back and buying her +hats. Such was the mood of Mr Pickering, when through the dimness +of the porch there appeared a white shape, moving softly toward +him. + +'Is that you, Mr Pickering?' + +Claire dropped into the seat beside him. From the drawing-room +came the soft tinkle of a piano. The sound blended harmoniously +with the quiet peace of the night. Mr Pickering let his cigar go +out and clutched the sides of his chair. + + Oi'll--er--sing thee saw-ongs ov Arrabee, + Und--ah ta-ales of farrr Cash-mee-eere, + Wi-ild tales to che-eat thee ovasigh + Und charrrrm thee to-oo a tear-er. + +Claire gave a little sigh. + +'What a beautiful voice Mr Sherriff has!' + +Dudley Pickering made no reply. He thought Roscoe Sherriff had a +beastly voice. He resented Roscoe Sherriff's voice. He objected to +Roscoe Sherriff's polluting this fair night with his cacophony. + +'Don't you think so, Mr Pickering?' + +'Uh-huh.' + +'That doesn't sound very enthusiastic. Mr Pickering, I want you to +tell me something. Have I done anything to offend you?' + +Mr Pickering started violently. + +'Eh?' + +'I have seen so little of you these last few days. A little while +ago we were always together, having such interesting talks. But +lately it has seemed to me that you have been avoiding me.' + +A feeling of helplessness swept over Mr Pickering. He was vaguely +conscious of a sense of being treated unjustly, of there being a +flaw in Claire's words somewhere if he could only find it, but the +sudden attack had deprived him of the free and unfettered use of +his powers of reasoning. He gurgled wordlessly, and Claire went +on, her low, sad voice mingling with the moonlight in a manner +that caused thrills to run up and down his spine. He felt +paralyzed. Caution urged him to make some excuse and follow it +with a bolt to the drawing-room, but he was physically incapable +of taking the excellent advice. Sometimes when you are out in your +Pickering Gem or your Pickering Giant the car hesitates, falters, +and stops dead, and your chauffeur, having examined the carburettor, +turns to you and explains the phenomenon in these words: 'The +mixture is too rich.' So was it with Mr Pickering now. The moonlight +alone might not have held him; Claire's voice alone might not have +held him; but against the two combined he was powerless. The +mixture was too rich. He sat and breathed a little stertorously, +and there came to him that conviction that comes to all of us now +and then, that we are at a crisis of our careers and that the +moment through which we are living is a moment big with fate. + +The voice in the drawing-room stopped. Having sung songs of Araby +and tales of far Cashmere, Mr Roscoe Sherriff was refreshing +himself with a comic paper. But Lady Wetherby, seated at the +piano, still touched the keys softly, and the sound increased the +richness of the mixture which choked Dudley Pickering's spiritual +carburettor. It is not fair that a rather stout manufacturer +should be called upon to sit in the moonlight while a beautiful +girl, to the accompaniment of soft music, reproaches him with +having avoided her. + +'I should be so sorry, Mr Pickering, if I had done anything to +make a difference between us--' + +'Eh?' said Mr Pickering. + +'I have so few real friends over here.' + +Claire's voice trembled. + +'I--I get a little lonely, a little homesick sometimes--' + +She paused, musing, and a spasm of pity rent the bosom beneath +Dudley Pickering's ample shirt. There was a buzzing in his ears +and a lump choked his throat. + +'Of course, I am loving the life here. I think America's +wonderful, and nobody could be kinder than Lady Wetherby. But--I +miss my home. It's the first time I have been away for so long. I +feel very far away sometimes. There are only three of us at home: +my mother, myself, and my little brother--little Percy.' + +Her voice trembled again as she spoke the last two words, and it +was possibly this that caused Mr Pickering to visualize Percy as a +sort of little Lord Fauntleroy, his favourite character in English +literature. He had a vision of a small, delicate, wistful child +pining away for his absent sister. Consumptive probably. Or +curvature of the spine. + +He found Claire's hand in his. He supposed dully he must have +reached out for it. Soft and warm it lay there, while the universe +paused breathlessly. And then from the semi-darkness beside him +there came the sound of a stifled sob, and his fingers closed as +if someone had touched a button. + +'We have always been such chums. He is only ten--such a dear boy! +He must be missing me--' + +She stopped, and simultaneously Dudley Pickering began to speak. + +There is this to be said for your shy, cautious man, that on the +rare occasions when he does tap the vein of eloquence that vein +becomes a geyser. It was as if after years of silence and +monosyllables Dudley Pickering was endeavouring to restore the +average. + +He began by touching on his alleged neglect and avoidance of +Claire. He called himself names and more names. He plumbed the +depth of repentance and remorse. Proceeding from this, he +eulogized her courage, the pluck with which she presented a +smiling face to the world while tortured inwardly by separation +from her little brother Percy. He then turned to his own feelings. + +But there are some things which the historian should hold sacred, +some things which he should look on as proscribed material for his +pen, and the actual words of a stout manufacturer of automobiles +proposing marriage in the moonlight fall into this class. It is +enough to say that Dudley Pickering was definite. He left no room +for doubt as to his meaning. + +'Dudley!' + +She was in his arms. He was embracing her. She was his--the latest +model, self-starting, with limousine body and all the newest. No, +no, his mind was wandering. She was his, this divine girl, this +queen among women, this-- + +From the drawing-room Roscoe Sherriff's voice floated out in +unconscious comment-- + + Good-bye, boys! + I'm going to be married to-morrow. + Good-bye, boys! + I'm going from sunshine to sorrow. + No more sitting up till broad daylight. + +Did a momentary chill cool the intensity of Dudley Pickering's +ardour? If so he overcame it instantly. He despised Roscoe +Sherriff. He flattered himself that he had shown Roscoe Sherriff +pretty well who was who and what was what. + +They would have a wonderful wedding--dozens of clergymen, scores +of organs playing 'The Voice that Breathed o'er Eden,' platoons of +bridesmaids, wagonloads of cake. And then they would go back to +Detroit and live happy ever after. And it might be that in time to +come there would be given to them little runabouts. + + I'm going to a life + Of misery and strife, + So good-bye, boys! + +Hang Roscoe Sherriff! What did he know about it! Confound him! +Dudley Pickering turned a deaf ear to the song and wallowed in his +happiness. + +Claire walked slowly down the moonlit drive. She had removed +herself from her Dudley's embraces, for she wished to be alone, to +think. The engagement had been announced. All that part of it was +over--Dudley's stammering speech, the unrestrained delight of +Polly Wetherby, the facetious rendering of 'The Wedding Glide' on +the piano by Roscoe Sherriff, and it now remained for her to try +to discover a way of conveying the news to Bill. + +It had just struck her that, though she knew that Bill was in +America, she had not his address. + +What was she to do? She must tell him. Otherwise it might quite +easily happen that they might meet in New York when she returned +there. She pictured the scene. She saw herself walking with Dudley +Pickering. Along came Bill. 'Claire, darling!' ... Heavens, what +would Dudley think? It would be too awful! She couldn't explain. +No, somehow or other, even if she put detectives on his trail, she +must find him, and be off with the old love now that she was on +with the new. + +She reached the gate and leaned over it. And as she did so someone +in the shadow of a tall tree spoke her name. A man came into the +light, and she saw that it was Lord Dawlish. + + + + +11 + + +Lord Dawlish had gone for a moonlight walk that night because, +like Claire, he wished to be alone to think. He had fallen with a +pleasant ease and smoothness into the rather curious life lived at +Elizabeth Boyd's bee-farm. A liking for picnics had lingered in +him from boyhood, and existence at Flack's was one prolonged +picnic. He found that he had a natural aptitude for the more +muscular domestic duties, and his energy in this direction +enchanted Nutty, who before his advent had had a monopoly of these +tasks. + +Nor was this the only aspect of the situation that pleased Nutty. +When he had invited Bill to the farm he had had a vague hope that +good might come of it, but he had never dreamed that things would +turn out as well as they promised to do, or that such a warm and +immediate friendship would spring up between his sister and the +man who had diverted the family fortune into his own pocket. Bill +and Elizabeth were getting on splendidly. They were together all +the time--walking, golfing, attending to the numerous needs of the +bees, or sitting on the porch. Nutty's imagination began to run +away with him. He seemed to smell the scent of orange-blossoms, to +hear the joyous pealing of church bells--in fact, with the +difference that it was not his own wedding that he was anticipating, +he had begun to take very much the same view of the future that was +about to come to Dudley Pickering. + +Elizabeth would have been startled and embarrassed if she could +have read his thoughts, for they might have suggested to her that +she was becoming a great deal fonder of Bill than the shortness of +their acquaintance warranted. But though she did not fail to +observe the strangeness of her brother's manner, she traced it to +another source than the real one. Nutty had a habit of starting +back and removing himself when, entering the porch, he perceived +that Bill and his sister were already seated there. His own +impression on such occasions was that he was behaving with +consummate tact. Elizabeth supposed that he had had some sort of a +spasm. + +Lord Dawlish, if he had been able to diagnose correctly the almost +paternal attitude which had become his host's normal manner these +days, would have been equally embarrassed but less startled, for +conscience had already suggested to him from time to time that he +had been guilty of a feeling toward Elizabeth warmer than any +feeling that should come to an engaged man. Lying in bed at the +end of his first week at the farm, he reviewed the progress of his +friendship with her, and was amazed at the rapidity with which it +had grown. + +He could not conceal it from himself--Elizabeth appealed to him. +Being built on a large scale himself, he had always been attracted +by small women. There was a smallness, a daintiness, a liveliness +about Elizabeth that was almost irresistible. She was so capable, +so cheerful in spite of the fact that she was having a hard time. +And then their minds seemed to blend so remarkably. There were no +odd corners to be smoothed away. Never in his life had he felt so +supremely at his ease with one of the opposite sex. He loved +Claire--he drove that fact home almost angrily to himself--but he +was forced to admit that he had always been aware of something in +the nature of a barrier between them. Claire was querulous at +times, and always a little too apt to take offence. He had never +been able to talk to her with that easy freedom that Elizabeth +invited. Talking to Elizabeth was like talking to an attractive +version of oneself. It was a thing to be done with perfect +confidence, without any of that apprehension which Claire inspired +lest the next remark might prove the spark to cause an explosion. +But Claire was the girl he loved--there must be no mistake about +that. + +He came to the conclusion that the key to the situation was the +fact that Elizabeth was American. He had read so much of the +American girl, her unaffectedness, her genius for easy comradeship. +Well, this must be what the writer fellows meant. He had happened +upon one of those delightful friendships without any suspicion of +sex in them of which the American girl had the monopoly. Yes, that +must be it. It was a comforting explanation. It accounted for his +feeling at a loose end whenever he was away from Elizabeth for as +much as half an hour. It accounted for the fact that they understood +each other so well. It accounted for everything so satisfactorily +that he was able to get to sleep that night after all. + +But next morning--for his conscience was one of those persistent +consciences--he began to have doubts again. Nothing clings like a +suspicion in the mind of a conscientious young man that he has +been allowing his heart to stray from its proper anchorage. + +Could it be that he was behaving badly toward Claire? The thought +was unpleasant, but he could not get rid of it. He extracted +Claire's photograph from his suit-case and gazed solemnly upon it. + +At first he was shocked to find that it only succeeded in +convincing him that Elizabeth was quite the most attractive girl +he ever had met. The photographer had given Claire rather a severe +look. He had told her to moisten the lips with the tip of the +tongue and assume a pleasant smile, with the result that she +seemed to glare. She had a rather markedly aggressive look, +queenly perhaps, but not very comfortable. + +But there is no species of self-hypnotism equal to that of a man +who gazes persistently at a photograph with the preconceived idea +that he is in love with the original of it. Little by little Bill +found that the old feeling began to return. He persevered. By the +end of a quarter of an hour he had almost succeeded in capturing +anew that first fine careless rapture which, six months ago, had +caused him to propose to Claire and walk on air when she accepted +him. + +He continued the treatment throughout the day, and by dinner-time +had arranged everything with his conscience in the most satisfactory +manner possible. He loved Claire with a passionate fervour; he +liked Elizabeth very much indeed. He submitted this diagnosis to +conscience, and conscience graciously approved and accepted it. + +It was Sunday that day. That helped. There is nothing like Sunday +in a foreign country for helping a man to sentimental thoughts of +the girl he has left behind him elsewhere. And the fact that there +was a full moon clinched it. Bill was enabled to go for an +after-dinner stroll in a condition of almost painful loyalty to Claire. + +From time to time, as he walked along the road, he took out the +photograph and did some more gazing. The last occasion on which he +did this was just as he emerged from the shadow of a large tree +that stood by the roadside, and a gush of rich emotion rewarded +him. + +'Claire!' he murmured. + +An exclamation at his elbow caused him to look up. There, leaning +over a gate, the light of the moon falling on her beautiful face, +stood Claire herself! + + + + +12 + + +In trying interviews, as in sprint races, the start is everything. +It was the fact that she recovered more quickly from her +astonishment that enabled Claire to dominate her scene with Bill. +She had the advantage of having a less complicated astonishment to +recover from, for, though it was a shock to see him there when she +had imagined that he was in New York, it was not nearly such a +shock as it was to him to see her here when he had imagined that +she was in England. She had adjusted her brain to the situation +while he was still gaping. + +'Well, Bill?' + +This speech in itself should have been enough to warn Lord Dawlish +of impending doom. As far as love, affection, and tenderness are +concerned, a girl might just as well hit a man with an axe as say +'Well, Bill?' to him when they have met unexpectedly in the +moonlight after long separation. But Lord Dawlish was too shattered +by surprise to be capable of observing _nuances_. If his love had +ever waned or faltered, as conscience had suggested earlier in the +day, it was at full blast now. + +'Claire!' he cried. + +He was moving to take her in his arms, but she drew back. + +'No, really, Bill!' she said; and this time it did filter through +into his disordered mind that all was not well. A man who is a +good deal dazed at the moment may fail to appreciate a remark like +'Well, Bill?' but for a girl to draw back and say, 'No, really, +Bill!' in a tone not exactly of loathing, but certainly of pained +aversion, is a deliberately unfriendly act. The three short words, +taken in conjunction with the movement, brought him up with as +sharp a turn as if she had punched him in the eye. + +'Claire! What's the matter?' + +She looked at him steadily. She looked at him with a sort of +queenly woodenness, as if he were behind a camera with a velvet +bag over his head and had just told her to moisten the lips with +the tip of the tongue. Her aspect staggered Lord Dawlish. A +cursory inspection of his conscience showed nothing but purity and +whiteness, but he must have done something, or she would not be +staring at him like this. + +'I don't understand!' was the only remark that occurred to him. + +'Are you sure?' + +'What do you mean?' + +'I was at Reigelheimer's Restaurant--Ah!' + +The sudden start which Lord Dawlish had given at the opening words +of her sentence justified the concluding word. Innocent as his +behaviour had been that night at Reigelheimer's, he had been glad +at the time that he had not been observed. It now appeared that he +had been observed, and it seemed to him that Long Island suddenly +flung itself into a whirling dance. He heard Claire speaking a +long way off: 'I was there with Lady Wetherby. It was she who +invited me to come to America. I went to the restaurant to see her +dance--and I saw you!' + +With a supreme effort Bill succeeded in calming down the excited +landscape. He willed the trees to stop dancing, and they came +reluctantly to a standstill. The world ceased to swim and flicker. + +'Let me explain,' he said. + +The moment he had said the words he wished he could recall them. +Their substance was right enough; it was the sound of them that +was wrong. They sounded like a line from a farce, where the erring +husband has been caught by the masterful wife. They were +ridiculous. Worse than being merely ridiculous, they created an +atmosphere of guilt and evasion. + +'Explain! How can you explain? It is impossible to explain. I saw +you with my own eyes making an exhibition of yourself with a +horrible creature in salmon-pink. I'm not asking you who she is. +I'm not questioning you about your relations with her at all. I +don't care who she was. The mere fact that you were at a public +restaurant with a person of that kind is enough. No doubt you +think I am making a great deal of fuss about a very ordinary +thing. You consider that it is a man's privilege to do these +things, if he can do them without being found out. But it ended +everything so far as I am concerned. Am I unreasonable? I don't +think so. You steal off to America, thinking I am in England, and +behave like this. How could you do that if you really loved me? +It's the deceit of it that hurts me.' + +Lord Dawlish drew in a few breaths of pure Long Island air, but he +did not speak. He felt helpless. If he were to be allowed to +withdraw into the privacy of the study and wrap a cold, wet towel +about his forehead and buckle down to it, he knew that he could +draft an excellent and satisfactory explanation of his presence at +Reigelheimer's with the Good Sport. But to do it on the spur of +the moment like this was beyond him. + +Claire was speaking again. She had paused for a while after her +recent speech, in order to think of something else to say; and +during this pause had come to her mind certain excerpts from one +of those admirable articles on love, by Luella Delia Philpotts, +which do so much to boost the reading public of the United States +into the higher planes. She had read it that afternoon in the +Sunday paper, and it came back to her now. + +'I may be hypersensitive,' she said, dropping her voice from the +accusatory register to the lower tones of pathos, 'but I have such +high ideals of love. There can be no true love where there is not +perfect trust. Trust is to love what--' + +She paused again. She could not remember just what Luella Delia +Philpotts had said trust was to love. It was something extremely +neat, but it had slipped her memory. + +'A woman has the right to expect the man she is about to marry to +regard their troth as a sacred obligation that shall keep him as +pure as a young knight who has dedicated himself to the quest of +the Holy Grail. And I find you in a public restaurant, dancing +with a creature with yellow hair, upsetting waiters, and +staggering about with pats of butter all over you.' + +Here a sense of injustice stung Lord Dawlish. It was true that +after his regrettable collision with Heinrich, the waiter, he had +discovered butter upon his person, but it was only one pat. Claire +had spoken as if he had been festooned with butter. + +'I am not angry with you, only disappointed. What has happened has +shown me that you do not really love me, not as I think of love. +Oh, I know that when we are together you think you do, but absence +is the test. Absence is the acid-test of love that separates the +base metal from the true. After what has happened, we can't go on +with our engagement. It would be farcical. I could never feel that +way toward you again. We shall always be friends, I hope. But as +for love--love is not a machine. It cannot be shattered and put +together again.' + +She turned and began to walk up the drive. Hanging over the top of +the gate like a wet sock, Lord Dawlish watched her go. The +interview was over, and he could not think of one single thing to +say. Her white dress made a patch of light in the shadows. She +moved slowly, as if weighed down by sad thoughts, like one who, as +Luella Delia Philpotts beautifully puts it, paces with measured +step behind the coffin of a murdered heart. The bend of the drive +hid her from his sight. + +About twenty minutes later Dudley Pickering, smoking sentimentally +in the darkness hard by the porch, received a shock. He was musing +tenderly on his Claire, who was assisting him in the process by +singing in the drawing-room, when he was aware of a figure, the +sinister figure of a man who, pressed against the netting of the +porch, stared into the lighted room beyond. + +Dudley Pickering's first impulse was to stride briskly up to the +intruder, tap him on the shoulder, and ask him what the devil he +wanted; but a second look showed him that the other was built on +too ample a scale to make this advisable. He was a large, +fit-looking intruder. + +Mr Pickering was alarmed. There had been the usual epidemic of +burglaries that season. Houses had been broken into, valuable +possessions removed. In one case a negro butler had been struck +over the head with a gas-pipe and given a headache. In these +circumstances, it was unpleasant to find burly strangers looking +in at windows. + +'Hi!' cried Mr Pickering. + +The intruder leaped a foot. It had not occurred to Lord Dawlish, +when in an access of wistful yearning he had decided to sneak up +to the house in order to increase his anguish by one last glimpse +of Claire, that other members of the household might be out in the +grounds. He was just thinking sorrowfully, as he listened to the +music, how like his own position was to that of the hero of +Tennyson's _Maud_--a poem to which he was greatly addicted, +when Mr Pickering's 'Hi!' came out of nowhere and hit him like a +torpedo. + +He turned in agitation. Mr Pickering having prudently elected to +stay in the shadows, there was no one to be seen. It was as if the +voice of conscience had shouted 'Hi!' at him. He was just +wondering if he had imagined the whole thing, when he perceived +the red glow of a cigar and beyond it a shadowy form. + +It was not the fact that he was in an equivocal position, staring +into a house which did not belong to him, with his feet on +somebody else's private soil, that caused Bill to act as he did. +It was the fact that at that moment he was not feeling equal to +conversation with anybody on any subject whatsoever. It did not +occur to him that his behaviour might strike a nervous stranger as +suspicious. All he aimed at was the swift removal of himself from +a spot infested by others of his species. He ran, and Mr +Pickering, having followed him with the eye of fear, went rather +shakily into the house, his brain whirling with professional +cracksmen and gas pipes and assaulted butlers, to relate his +adventure. + +'A great, hulking, ruffianly sort of fellow glaring in at the +window,' said Mr Pickering. 'I shouted at him and he ran like a +rabbit.' + +'Gee! Must have been one of the gang that's been working down +here,' said Roscoe Sherriff. 'There might be a quarter of a column +in that, properly worked, but I guess I'd better wait until he +actually does bust the place.' + +'We must notify the police!' + +'Notify the police, and have them butt in and stop the thing and +kill a good story!' There was honest amazement in the Press-agent's +voice. 'Let me tell you, it isn't so easy to get publicity +these days that you want to go out of your way to stop it!' + +Mr Pickering was appalled. A dislike of this man, which had grown +less vivid since his scene with Claire, returned to him with +redoubled force. + +'Why, we may all be murdered in our beds!' he cried. + +'Front-page stuff!' said Roscoe Sherriff, with gleaming eyes. 'And +three columns at least. Fine!' + +It might have consoled Lord Dawlish somewhat, as he lay awake +that night, to have known that the man who had taken Claire from +him--though at present he was not aware of such a man's +existence--also slept ill. + + + + +13 + + +Lady Wetherby sat in her room, writing letters. The rest of the +household were variously employed. Roscoe Sherriff was prowling +about the house, brooding on campaigns of publicity. Dudley +Pickering was walking in the grounds with Claire. In a little +shack in the woods that adjoined the high-road, which he had +converted into a temporary studio, Lord Wetherby was working on a +picture which he proposed to call 'Innocence', a study of a small +Italian child he had discovered in Washington Square. Lady +Wetherby, who had been taken to see the picture, had suggested +'The Black Hand's Newest Recruit' as a better title than the one +selected by the artist. + +It is a fact to be noted that of the entire household only Lady +Wetherby could fairly be described as happy. It took very little to +make Lady Wetherby happy. Fine weather, good food, and a complete +abstention from classical dancing--give her these and she asked no +more. She was, moreover, delighted at Claire's engagement. It +seemed to her, for she had no knowledge of the existence of Lord +Dawlish, a genuine manifestation of Love's Young Dream. She liked +Dudley Pickering and she was devoted to Claire. It made her happy +to think that it was she who had brought them together. + +But of the other members of the party, Dudley Pickering was +unhappy because he feared that burglars were about to raid the +house; Roscoe Sherriff because he feared they were not; Claire +because, now that the news of the engagement was out, it seemed to +be everybody's aim to leave her alone with Mr Pickering, whose +undiluted society tended to pall. And Lord Wetherby was unhappy +because he found Eustace, the monkey, a perpetual strain upon his +artistic nerves. It was Eustace who had driven him to his shack in +the woods. He could have painted far more comfortably in the +house, but Eustace had developed a habit of stealing up to him and +plucking the leg of his trousers; and an artist simply cannot give +of his best with that sort of thing going on. + +Lady Wetherby wrote on. She was not fond of letter-writing and she +had allowed her correspondence to accumulate; but she was +disposing of it in an energetic and conscientious way, when the +entrance of Wrench, the butler, interrupted her. + +Wrench had been imported from England at the request of Lord +Wetherby, who had said that it soothed him and kept him from +feeling home-sick to see a butler about the place. Since then he +had been hanging to the establishment as it were by a hair. He +gave the impression of being always on the point of giving notice. +There were so many things connected with his position of which he +disapproved. He had made no official pronouncement of the matter, +but Lady Wetherby knew that he disapproved of her classical +dancing. His last position had been with the Dowager Duchess of +Waveney, the well-known political hostess, who--even had the +somewhat generous lines on which she was built not prevented the +possibility of such a thing--would have perished rather than dance +barefooted in a public restaurant. Wrench also disapproved of +America. That fact had been made plain immediately upon his +arrival in the country. He had given America one look, and then +his mind was made up--he disapproved of it. + +'If you please, m'lady!' + +Lady Wetherby turned. The butler was looking even more than +usually disapproving, and his disapproval had, so to speak, +crystallized, as if it had found some more concrete and definite +objective than either barefoot dancing or the United States. + +'If you please, m'lady--the hape!' + +It was Wrench's custom to speak of Eustace in a tone of restrained +disgust. He disapproved of Eustace. The Dowager Duchess of +Waveney, though she kept open house for members of Parliament, +would have drawn the line at monkeys. + +'The hape is behaving very strange, m'lady,' said Wrench, +frostily. + +It has been well said that in this world there is always +something. A moment before, Lady Wetherby had been feeling +completely contented, without a care on her horizon. It was +foolish of her to have expected such a state of things to last, +for what is life but a series of sharp corners, round each of +which Fate lies in wait for us with a stuffed eel-skin? Something +in the butler's manner, a sort of gloating gloom which he +radiated, told her that she had arrived at one of these corners +now. + +'The hape is seated on the kitchen-sink, m'lady, throwing new-laid +eggs at the scullery-maid, and cook desired me to step up and ask +for instructions.' + +'What!' Lady Wetherby rose in agitation. 'What's he doing that +for?' she asked, weakly. + +A slight, dignified gesture was Wrench's only reply. It was not +his place to analyse the motives of monkeys. + +'Throwing eggs!' + +The sight of Lady Wetherby's distress melted the butler's stern +reserve. He unbent so far as to supply a clue. + +'As I understand from cook, m'lady, the animal appears to have +taken umbrage at a lack of cordiality on the part of the cat. It +seems that the hape attempted to fondle the cat, but the latter +scratched him; being suspicious,' said Wrench, 'of his _bona +fides_.' He scrutinized the ceiling with a dull eye. 'Whereupon,' +he continued, 'he seized her tail and threw her with considerable +force. He then removed himself to the sink and began to hurl eggs +at the scullery-maid.' + +Lady Wetherby's mental eye attempted to produce a picture of the +scene, but failed. + +'I suppose I had better go down and see about it,' she said. + +Wrench withdrew his gaze from the ceiling. + +'I think it would be advisable, m'lady. The scullery-maid is +already in hysterics.' + +Lady Wetherby led the way to the kitchen. She was wroth with +Eustace. This was just the sort of thing out of which Algie would +be able to make unlimited capital. It weakened her position with +Algie. There was only one thing to do--she must hush it up. + +Her first glance, however, at the actual theatre of war gave her +the impression that matters had advanced beyond the hushing-up +stage. A yellow desolation brooded over the kitchen. It was not so +much a kitchen as an omelette. There were eggs everywhere, from +floor to ceiling. She crunched her way in on a carpet of oozing +shells. + +Her entry was a signal for a renewal on a more impressive scale of +the uproar that she had heard while opening the door. The air was +full of voices. The cook was expressing herself in Norwegian, the +parlour-maid in what appeared to be Erse. On a chair in a corner +the scullery-maid sobbed and whooped. The odd-job man, who was a +baseball enthusiast, was speaking in terms of high praise of +Eustace's combined speed and control. + +The only calm occupant of the room was Eustace himself, who, +either through a shortage of ammunition or through weariness of +the pitching-arm, had suspended active hostilities, and was now +looking down on the scene from a high shelf. There was a brooding +expression in his deep-set eyes. He massaged his right ear with +the sole of his left foot in a somewhat _distrait_ manner. + +'Eustace!' cried Lady Wetherby, severely. + +Eustace lowered his foot and gazed at her meditatively, then at +the odd-job man, then at the scullery-maid, whose voice rose high +above the din. + +'I rather fancy, m'lady,' said Wrench, dispassionately, 'that the +animal is about to hurl a plate.' + +It had escaped the notice of those present that the shelf on which +the rioter had taken refuge was within comfortable reach of the +dresser, but Eustace himself had not overlooked this important +strategic point. As the butler spoke, Eustace picked up a plate +and threw it at the scullery-maid, whom he seemed definitely to +have picked out as the most hostile of the allies. It was a fast +inshoot, and hit the wall just above her head. + +''At-a-boy!' said the odd-job man, reverently. + +Lady Wetherby turned on him with some violence. His detached +attitude was the most irritating of the many irritating aspects of +the situation. She paid this man a weekly wage to do odd jobs. The +capture of Eustace was essentially an odd job. Yet, instead of +doing it, he hung about with the air of one who has paid his +half-dollar and bought his bag of peanuts and has now nothing to +do but look on and enjoy himself. + +'Why don't you catch him?' she cried. + +The odd-job man came out of his trance. A sudden realization came +upon him that life was real and life was earnest, and that if he +did not wish to jeopardize a good situation he must bestir +himself. Everybody was looking at him expectantly. It seemed to be +definitely up to him. It was imperative that, whatever he did, he +should do it quickly. There was an apron hanging over the back of +a chair. More with the idea of doing something than because he +thought he would achieve anything definite thereby, he picked up +the apron and flung it at Eustace. Luck was with him. The apron +enveloped Eustace just as he was winding up for another inshoot +and was off his balance. He tripped and fell, clutched at the +apron to save himself, and came to the ground swathed in it, +giving the effect of an apron mysteriously endowed with life. The +triumphant odd-job man, pressing his advantage like a good +general, gathered up the ends, converted it into a rude bag, and +one more was added to the long list of the victories of the human +over the brute intelligence. + +Everybody had a suggestion now. The cook advocated drowning. The +parlour-maid favoured the idea of hitting the prisoner with a +broom-handle. Wrench, eyeing the struggling apron disapprovingly, +mentioned that Mr Pickering had bought a revolver that morning. + +'Put him in the coal-cellar,' said Lady Wetherby. + +Wrench was more far-seeing. + +'If I might offer the warning, m'lady,' said Wrench, 'not the +cellar. It is full of coal. It would be placing temptation in the +animal's way.' + +The odd-job man endorsed this. + +'Put him in the garage, then,' said Lady Wetherby. + +The odd-job man departed, bearing his heaving bag at arm's length. +The cook and the parlour-maid addressed themselves to comforting +and healing the scullery-maid. Wrench went off to polish silver, +Lady Wetherby to resume her letters. The cat was the last of the +party to return to the normal. She came down from the chimney an +hour later covered with soot, demanding restoratives. + +Lady Wetherby finished her letters. She cut them short, for +Eustace's insurgence had interfered with her flow of ideas. She +went into the drawing-room, where she found Roscoe Sherriff +strumming on the piano. + +'Eustace has been raising Cain,' she said. + +The Press-agent looked up hopefully. He had been wearing a rather +preoccupied air. + +'How's that?' he asked. + +'Throwing eggs and plates in the kitchen.' + +The gleam of interest which had come into Roscoe Sherriff's face +died out. + +'You couldn't get more than a fill-in at the bottom of a column on +that,' he said, regretfully. 'I'm a little disappointed in that +monk. I hoped he would pan out bigger. Well, I guess we've just +got to give him time. I have an idea that he'll set the house on +fire or do something with a punch like that one of these days. You +mustn't get discouraged. Why, that puma I made Valerie Devenish +keep looked like a perfect failure for four whole months. A child +could have played with it. Miss Devenish called me up on the +phone, I remember, and said she was darned if she was going to +spend the rest of her life maintaining an animal that might as +well be stuffed for all the liveliness it showed, and that she was +going right out to buy a white mouse instead. Fortunately, I +talked her round. + +'A few weeks later she came round and thanked me with tears in her +eyes. The puma had suddenly struck real mid-season form. It clawed +the elevator-boy, bit a postman, held up the traffic for miles, +and was finally shot by a policeman. Why, for the next few days +there was nothing in the papers at all but Miss Devenish and her +puma. There was a war on at the time in Mexico or somewhere, and +we had it backed off the front page so far that it was over before +it could get back. So, you see, there's always hope. I've been +nursing the papers with bits about Eustace, so as to be ready for +the grand-stand play when it comes--and all we can do is to wait. +It's something if he's been throwing eggs. It shows he's waking +up.' + +The door opened and Lord Wetherby entered. He looked fatigued. He +sank into a chair and sighed. + +'I cannot get it,' he said. 'It eludes me.' + +He lapsed into a sombre silence. + +'What can't you get?' said Lady Wetherby, cautiously. + +'The expression--the expression I want to get into the child's +eyes in my picture, "Innocence".' + +'But you have got it.' + +Lord Wetherby shook his head. + +'Well, you had when I saw the picture,' persisted Lady Wetherby. +'This child you're painting has just joined the Black Hand. He +has been rushed in young over the heads of the waiting list +because his father had a pull. Naturally the kid wants to do +something to justify his election, and he wants to do it quick. +You have caught him at the moment when he sees an old gentleman +coming down the street and realizes that he has only got to sneak +up and stick his little knife--' + +'My dear Polly, I welcome criticism, but this is more--' + +Lady Wetherby stroked his coat-sleeve fondly. + +'Never mind, Algie, I was only joking, precious. I thought the +picture was coming along fine when you showed it to me. I'll come +and take another look at it.' + +Lord Wetherby shook his head. + +'I should have a model. An artist cannot mirror Nature properly +without a model. I wish you would invite that child down here.' + +'No, Algie, there are limits. I wouldn't have him within a mile +of the place.' + +'Yet you keep Eustace.' + +'Well, you made me engage Wrench. It's fifty-fifty. I wish you +wouldn't keep picking on Eustace, Algie dear. He does no harm. Mr +Sherriff and I were just saying how peaceable he is. He wouldn't +hurt--' + +Claire came in. + +'Polly,' she said, 'did you put that monkey of yours in the +garage? He's just bitten Dudley in the leg.' + +Lord Wetherby uttered an exclamation. + +'Now perhaps--' + +'We went in just now to have a look at the car,' continued +Claire. 'Dudley wanted to show me the commutator on the exhaust-box +or the windscreen, or something, and he was just bending over +when Eustace jumped out from nowhere and pinned him. I'm afraid he +has taken it to heart rather.' + +Roscoe Sherriff pondered. + +'Is this worth half a column?' He shook his head. 'No, I'm afraid +not. The public doesn't know Pickering. If it had been Charlie +Chaplin or William J. Bryan, or someone on those lines, we could +have had the papers bringing out extras. You can visualize William +J. Bryan being bitten in the leg by a monkey. It hits you. But +Pickering! Eustace might just as well have bitten the leg of the +table!' + +Lord Wetherby reasserted himself. + +'Now that the animal has become a public menace--' + +'He's nothing of the kind,' said Lady Wetherby. 'He's only a +little upset to-day.' + +'Do you mean, Pauline, that even after this you will not get rid +of him?' + +'Certainly not--poor dear!' + +'Very well,' said Lord Wetherby, calmly. 'I give you warning that +if he attacks me I shall defend myself.' + +He brooded. Lady Wetherby turned to Claire. + +'What happened then? Did you shut the door of the garage?' + +'Yes, but not until Eustace had got away. He slipped out like a +streak and disappeared. It was too dark to see which way he went.' + +Dudley Pickering limped heavily into the room. + +'I was just telling them about you and Eustace, Dudley.' + +Mr Pickering nodded moodily. He was too full for words. + +'I think Eustace must be mad,' said Claire. + +Roscoe Sherriff uttered a cry of rapture. + +'You've said it!' he exclaimed. 'I knew we should get action +sooner or later. It's the puma over again. Now we are all right. +Now I have something to work on. "Monkey Menaces Countryside." +"Long Island Summer Colony in Panic." "Mad Monkey Bites One--"' + +A convulsive shudder galvanized Mr Pickering's portly frame. + +'"Mad Monkey Terrorizes Long Island. One Dead!"' murmured Roscoe +Sherriff, wistfully. 'Do you feel a sort of shooting, Pickering--a +kind of burning sensation under the skin? Lady Wetherby, I guess +I'll be getting some of the papers on the phone. We've got a big +story.' + +He hurried to the telephone, but it was some little time before he +could use it. Dudley Pickering was in possession, talking +earnestly to the local doctor. + + + + +14 + + +It was Nutty Boyd's habit to retire immediately after dinner to +his bedroom. What he did there Elizabeth did not know. Sometimes +she pictured him reading, sometimes thinking. Neither supposition +was correct. Nutty never read. Newspapers bored him and books made +his head ache. And as for thinking, he had the wrong shape of +forehead. The nearest he ever got to meditation was a sort of +trance-like state, a kind of suspended animation in which his mind +drifted sluggishly like a log in a backwater. Nutty, it is +regrettable to say, went to his room after dinner for the purpose +of imbibing two or three surreptitious whiskies-and-sodas. + +He behaved in this way, he told himself, purely in order to spare +Elizabeth anxiety. There had been in the past a fool of a doctor +who had prescribed total abstinence for Nutty, and Elizabeth knew +this. Therefore, Nutty held, to take the mildest of drinks with +her knowledge would have been to fill her with fears for his +safety. So he went to considerable inconvenience to keep the +matter from her notice, and thought rather highly of himself for +doing so. + +It certainly was inconvenient--there was no doubt of that. It made +him feel like a cross between a hunted fawn and a burglar. But he +had to some extent diminished the possibility of surprise by +leaving his door open; and to-night he approached the cupboard +where he kept the materials for refreshment with a certain +confidence. He had left Elizabeth on the porch in a hammock, +apparently anchored for some time. Lord Dawlish was out in the +grounds somewhere. Presently he would come in and join Elizabeth +on the porch. The risk of interruption was negligible. + +Nutty mixed himself a drink and settled down to brood bitterly, as +he often did, on the doctor who had made that disastrous +statement. Doctors were always saying things like that--sweeping +things which nervous people took too literally. It was true that +he had been in pretty bad shape at the moment when the words had +been spoken. It was just at the end of his Broadway career, when, +as he handsomely admitted, there was a certain amount of truth in +the opinion that his interior needed a vacation. But since then he +had been living in the country, breathing good air, taking things +easy. In these altered conditions and after this lapse of time it +was absurd to imagine that a moderate amount of alcohol could do +him any harm. + +It hadn't done him any harm, that was the point. He had tested the +doctor's statement and found it incorrect. He had spent three +hectic days and nights in New York, and--after a reasonable +interval--had felt much the same as usual. And since then he had +imbibed each night, and nothing had happened. What it came to was +that the doctor was a chump and a blighter. Simply that and +nothing more. + +Having come to this decision, Nutty mixed another drink. He went +to the head of the stairs and listened. He heard nothing. He +returned to his room. + +Yes, that was it, the doctor was a chump. So far from doing him +any harm, these nightly potations brightened Nutty up, gave him +heart, and enabled him to endure life in this hole of a place. He +felt a certain scornful amusement. Doctors, he supposed, had to +get off that sort of talk to earn their money. + +He reached out for the bottle, and as he grasped it his eye was +caught by something on the floor. A brown monkey with a long, grey +tail was sitting there staring at him. + +There was one of those painful pauses. Nutty looked at the monkey +rather like an elongated Macbeth inspecting the ghost of Banquo. +The monkey looked at Nutty. The pause continued. Nutty shut his +eyes, counted ten slowly, and opened them. + +The monkey was still there. + +'Boo!' said Nutty, in an apprehensive undertone. + +The monkey looked at him. + +Nutty shut his eyes again. He would count sixty this time. A cold +fear had laid its clammy fingers on his heart. This was what that +doctor--not such a chump after all--must have meant! + +Nutty began to count. There seemed to be a heavy lump inside him, +and his mouth was dry; but otherwise he felt all right. That was +the gruesome part of it--this dreadful thing had come upon him at +a moment when he could have sworn that he was sound as a bell. If +this had happened in the days when he ranged the Great White Way, +sucking up deleterious moisture like a cloud, it would have been +intelligible. But it had sneaked upon him like a thief in the +night; it had stolen unheralded into his life when he had +practically reformed. What was the good of practically reforming +if this sort of thing was going to happen to one? + +'... Fifty-nine ... sixty.' + +He opened his eyes. The monkey was still there, in precisely the +same attitude, as if it was sitting for its portrait. Panic surged +upon Nutty. He lost his head completely. He uttered a wild yell +and threw the bottle at the apparition. + +Life had not been treating Eustace well that evening. He seemed to +have happened upon one of those days when everything goes wrong. +The cat had scratched him, the odd-job man had swathed him in an +apron, and now this stranger, in whom he had found at first a +pleasant restfulness, soothing after the recent scenes of violence +in which he had participated, did this to him. He dodged the +missile and clambered on to the top of the wardrobe. It was his +instinct in times of stress to seek the high spots. And then +Elizabeth hurried into the room. + +Elizabeth had been lying in the hammock on the porch when her +brother's yell had broken forth. It was a lovely, calm, moonlight +night, and she had been revelling in the peace of it, when +suddenly this outcry from above had shot her out of her hammock +like an explosion. She ran upstairs, fearing she knew not what. +She found Nutty sitting on the bed, looking like an overwrought +giraffe. + +'Whatever is the--?' she began; and then things began to impress +themselves on her senses. + +The bottle which Nutty had thrown at Eustace had missed the +latter, but it had hit the wall, and was now lying in many pieces +on the floor, and the air was heavy with the scent of it. The +remains seemed to leer at her with a kind of furtive swagger, +after the manner of broken bottles. A quick thrill of anger ran +through Elizabeth. She had always felt more like a mother to Nutty +than a sister, and now she would have liked to exercise the +maternal privilege of slapping him. + +'Nutty!' + +'I saw a monkey!' said her brother, hollowly. 'I was standing over +there and I saw a monkey! Of course, it wasn't there really. I +flung the bottle at it, and it seemed to climb on to that +wardrobe.' + +'This wardrobe?' + +'Yes.' + +Elizabeth struck it a resounding blow with the palm of her hand, +and Eustace's face popped over the edge, peering down anxiously. +'I can see it now,' said Nutty. A sudden, faint hope came to him. +'Can you see it?' he asked. + +Elizabeth did not speak for a moment. This was an unusual +situation, and she was wondering how to treat it. She was sorry +for Nutty, but Providence had sent this thing and it would be +foolish to reject it. She must look on herself in the light of a +doctor. It would be kinder to Nutty in the end. She had the +feminine aversion from the lie deliberate. Her ethics on the +_suggestio falsi_ were weak. She looked at Nutty questioningly. + +'See it?' she said. + +'Don't you see a monkey on the top of the wardrobe?' said Nutty, +becoming more definite. + +'There's a sort of bit of wood sticking out--' + +Nutty sighed. + +'No, not that. You didn't see it. I don't think you would.' + +He spoke so dejectedly that for a moment Elizabeth weakened, but +only for an instant. + +'Tell me all about this, Nutty,' she said. + +Nutty was beyond the desire for evasion and concealment. His one +wish was to tell. He told all. + +'But, Nutty, how silly of you!' + +'Yes.' + +'After what the doctor said.' + +'I know.' + +'You remember his telling you--' + +'I know. Never again!' + +'What do you mean?' + +'I quit. I'm going to give it up.' + +Elizabeth embraced him maternally. + +'That's a good child!' she said. 'You really promise?' + +'I don't have to promise, I'm just going to do it.' + +Elizabeth compromised with her conscience by becoming soothing. + +'You know, this isn't so very serious, Nutty, darling. I mean, +it's just a warning.' + +'It's warned me all right.' + +'You will be perfectly all right if--' + +Nutty interrupted her. + +'You're sure you can't see anything?' + +'See what?' + +Nutty's voice became almost apologetic. + +'I know it's just imagination, but the monkey seems to me to be +climbing down from the wardrobe.' + +'I can't see anything climbing down the wardrobe,' said Elizabeth, +as Eustace touched the floor. + +'It's come down now. It's crossing the carpet.' + +'Where?' + +'It's gone now. It went out of the door.' + +'Oh!' + +'I say, Elizabeth, what do you think I ought to do?' + +'I should go to bed and have a nice long sleep, and you'll feel--' + +'Somehow I don't feel much like going to bed. This sort of thing +upsets a chap, you know.' + +'Poor dear!' + +'I think I'll go for a long walk.' + +'That's a splendid idea.' + +'I think I'd better do a good lot of walking from now on. Didn't +Chalmers bring down some Indian clubs with him? I think I'll +borrow them. I ought to keep out in the open a lot, I think. I +wonder if there's any special diet I ought to have. Well, anyway, +I'll be going for that walk.' + +At the foot of the stairs Nutty stopped. He looked quickly into +the porch, then looked away again. + +'What's the matter?' asked Elizabeth. + +'I thought for a moment I saw the monkey sitting on the hammock.' + +He went out of the house and disappeared from view down the drive, +walking with long, rapid strides. + +Elizabeth's first act, when he had gone, was to fetch a banana +from the ice-box. Her knowledge of monkeys was slight, but she +fancied they looked with favour on bananas. It was her intention +to conciliate Eustace. + +She had placed Eustace by now. Unlike Nutty, she read the papers, +and she knew all about Lady Wetherby and her pets. The fact that +Lady Wetherby, as she had been informed by the grocer in friendly +talk, had rented a summer house in the neighbourhood made +Eustace's identity positive. + +She had no very clear plans as to what she intended to do with +Eustace, beyond being quite resolved that she was going to board +and lodge him for a few days. Nutty had had the jolt he needed, +but it might be that the first freshness of it would wear away, in +which event it would be convenient to have Eustace on the +premises. She regarded Eustace as a sort of medicine. A second +dose might not be necessary, but it was as well to have the +mixture handy. She took another banana, in case the first might +not be sufficient. She then returned to the porch. + +Eustace was sitting on the hammock, brooding. The complexities of +life were weighing him down a good deal. He was not aware of +Elizabeth's presence until he found her standing by him. He had +just braced himself for flight, when he perceived that she bore +rich gifts. + +Eustace was always ready for a light snack--readier now than +usual, for air and exercise had sharpened his appetite. He took +the banana in a detached manner, as it to convey the idea that it +did not commit him to any particular course of conduct. It was a +good banana, and he stretched out a hand for the other. Elizabeth +sat down beside him, but he did not move. He was convinced now of +her good intentions. It was thus that Lord Dawlish found them when +he came in from the garden. + +'Where has your brother gone to?' he asked. 'He passed me just now +at eight miles an hour. Great Scot! What's that?' + +'It's a monkey. Don't frighten him; he's rather nervous.' + +She tickled Eustace under the ear, for their relations were now +friendly. + +'Nutty went for a walk because he thought he saw it.' + +'Thought he saw it?' + +'Thought he saw it,' repeated Elizabeth, firmly. 'Will you +remember, Mr Chalmers, that, as far as he is concerned, this +monkey has no existence?' + +'I don't understand.' + +Elizabeth explained. + +'You see now?' + +'I see. But how long are you going to keep the animal?' + +'Just a day or two--in case.' + +'Where are you going to keep it?' + +'In the outhouse. Nutty never goes there, it's too near the +bee-hives.' + +'I suppose you don't know who the owner is?' + +'Yes, I do; it must be Lady Wetherby.' + +'Lady Wetherby!' + +'She's a woman who dances at one of the restaurants. I read in a +Sunday paper about her monkey. She has just taken a house near +here. I don't see who else the animal could belong to. Monkeys are +rarities on Long Island.' + +Bill was silent. 'Sudden a thought came like a full-blown rose, +flushing his brow.' For days he had been trying to find an excuse +for calling on Lady Wetherby as a first step toward meeting Claire +again. Here it was. There would be no need to interfere with +Elizabeth's plans. He would be vague. He would say he had just +seen the runaway, but would not add where. He would create an +atmosphere of helpful sympathy. Perhaps, later on, Elizabeth would +let him take the monkey back. + +'What are you thinking about?' asked Elizabeth. + +'Oh, nothing,' said Bill. + +'Perhaps we had better stow away our visitor for the night.' + +'Yes.' + +Elizabeth got up. + +'Poor, dear Nutty may be coming back at any moment now,' she said. + +But poor, dear Nutty did not return for a full two hours. When he +did he was dusty and tired, but almost cheerful. + +'I didn't see the brute once all the time I was out,' he told +Elizabeth. 'Not once!' + +Elizabeth kissed him fondly and offered to heat water for a bath; +but Nutty said he would take it cold. From now on, he vowed, +nothing but cold baths. He conveyed the impression of being a +blend of repentant sinner and hardy Norseman. Before he went to +bed he approached Bill on the subject of Indian clubs. + +'I want to get myself into shape, old top,' he said. + +'Yes?' + +'I've got to cut it out--to-night I thought I saw a monkey.' + +'Really?' + +'As plain as I see you now.' Nutty gave the clubs a tentative +swing. 'What do you do with these darned things? Swing them about +and all that? All right, I see the idea. Good night.' + +But Bill did not pass a good night. He lay awake long, thinking +over his plans for the morrow. + + + + +15 + + +Lady Wetherby was feeling battered. She had not realized how +seriously Roscoe Sherriff took the art of publicity, nor what +would be the result of the half-hour he had spent at the telephone +on the night of the departure of Eustace. + +Roscoe Sherriff's eloquence had fired the imagination of editors. +There had been a notable lack of interesting happenings this +summer. Nobody seemed to be striking or murdering or having +violent accidents. The universe was torpid. In these circumstances, +the escape of Eustace seemed to present possibilities. Reporters +had been sent down. There were three of them living in the house +now, and Wrench's air of disapproval was deepening every hour. + +It was their strenuousness which had given Lady Wetherby that +battered feeling. There was strenuousness in the air, and she +resented it on her vacation. She had come to Long Island to +vegetate, and with all this going on round her vegetation was +impossible. She was not long alone. Wrench entered. + +'A gentleman to see you, m'lady.' + +In the good old days, when she had been plain Polly Davis, of the +personnel of the chorus of various musical comedies, Lady Wetherby +would have suggested a short way of disposing of this untimely +visitor; but she had a position to keep up now. + +'From some darned paper?' she asked, wearily. + +'No, m'lady. I fancy he is not connected with the Press.' + +There was something in Wrench's manner that perplexed Lady +Wetherby, something almost human, as if Wrench were on the point +of coming alive. She did not guess it, but the explanation was +that Bill, quite unwittingly, had impressed Wrench. There was that +about Bill that reminded the butler of London and dignified +receptions at the house of the Dowager Duchess of Waveney. It was +deep calling unto deep. + +'Where is he?' + +'I have shown him into the drawing-room, m'lady.' + +Lady Wetherby went downstairs and found a large young man awaiting +her, looking nervous. + +Bill was feeling nervous. A sense of the ridiculousness of his +mission had come upon him. After all, he asked himself, what on +earth had he got to say? A presentiment had come upon him that he +was about to look a perfect ass. At the sight of Lady Wetherby his +nervousness began to diminish. Lady Wetherby was not a formidable +person. In spite of her momentary peevishness, she brought with +her an atmosphere of geniality and camaraderie. + +'It's about your monkey,' he said, coming to the point at once. + +Lady Wetherby brightened. + +'Oh! Have you seen it?' + +He was glad that she put it like that. + +'Yes. It came round our way last night.' + +'Where is that?' + +'I am staying at a farm near here, a place they call Flack's. The +monkey got into one of the rooms.' + +'Yes?' + +'And then--er--then it got out again, don't you know.' + +Lady Wetherby looked disappointed. + +'So it may be anywhere now?' she said. + +In the interests of truth, Bill thought it best to leave this +question unanswered. + +'Well, it's very good of you to have bothered to come out and tell +me,' said Lady Wetherby. 'It gives us a clue, at any rate. Thank +you. At least, we know now in which direction it went.' + +There was a pause. Bill gathered that the other was looking on the +interview as terminated, and that she was expecting him to go, and +he had not begun to say what he wanted to say. He tried to think +of a way of introducing the subject of Claire that should not seem +too abrupt. + +'Er--' he said. + +'Well?' said Lady Wetherby, simultaneously. + +'I beg your pardon.' + +'You have the floor,' said Lady Wetherby. 'Shoot!' + +It was not what she had intended to say. For months she had been +trying to get out of the habit of saying that sort of thing, but +she still suffered relapses. Only the other day she had told +Wrench to check some domestic problem or other with his hat, and +he had nearly given notice. But if she had been intending to put +Bill at his ease she could not have said anything better. + +'You have a Miss Fenwick staying with you, haven't you?' he said. + +Lady Wetherby beamed. + +'Do you know Claire?' + +'Yes, rather!' + +'She's my best friend. We used to be in the same company when I +was in England.' + +'So she has told me.' + +'She was my bridesmaid when I married Lord Wetherby.' + +'Yes.' + +Lady Wetherby was feeling perfectly happy now, and when Lady +Wetherby felt happy she always became garrulous. She was one of +those people who are incapable of looking on anybody as a stranger +after five minutes' acquaintance. Already she had begun to regard +Bill as an old friend. + +'Those were great days,' she said, cheerfully. 'None of us had a +bean, and Algie was the hardest up of the whole bunch. After we +were married we went to the Savoy for the wedding-breakfast, and +when it was over and the waiter came with the check, Algie said he +was sorry, but he had had a bad week at Lincoln and hadn't the +price on him. He tried to touch me, but I passed. Then he had a go +at the best man, but the best man had nothing in the world but one +suit of clothes and a spare collar. Claire was broke, too, so the +end of it was that the best man had to sneak out and pawn my watch +and the wedding-ring.' + +The room rang with her reminiscent laughter, Bill supplying a bass +accompaniment. Bill was delighted. He had never hoped that it +would be granted to him to become so rapidly intimate with +Claire's hostess. Why, he had only to keep the conversation in +this chummy vein for a little while longer and she would give him +the run of the house. + +'Miss Fenwick isn't in now, I suppose?' he asked. + +'No, Claire's out with Dudley Pickering. You don't know him, do +you?' + +'No.' + +'She's engaged to him.' + +It is an ironical fact that Lady Wetherby was by nature one of the +firmest believers in existence in the policy of breaking things +gently to people. She had a big, soft heart, and she hated hurting +her fellows. As a rule, when she had bad news to impart to any one +she administered the blow so gradually and with such mystery as to +the actual facts that the victim, having passed through the +various stages of imagined horrors, was genuinely relieved, when +she actually came to the point, to find that all that had happened +was that he had lost all his money. But now in perfect innocence, +thinking only to pass along an interesting bit of information, she +had crushed Bill as effectively as if she had used a club for that +purpose. + +'I'm tickled to death about it,' she went on, as it were over her +hearer's prostrate body. It was I who brought them together, you +know. I wrote telling Claire to come out here on the _Atlantic,_ +knowing that Dudley was sailing on that boat. I had an idea they +would hit it off together. Dudley fell for her right away, and she +must have fallen for him, for they had only known each other +for a few weeks when they came and told me they were engaged. +It happened last Sunday.' + +'Last Sunday!' + +It had seemed to Bill a moment before that he would never again be +capable of speech, but this statement dragged the words out of +him. Last Sunday! Why, it was last Sunday that Claire had broken +off her engagement with him! + +'Last Sunday at nine o'clock in the evening, with a full moon +shining and soft music going on off-stage. Real third-act stuff.' + +Bill felt positively dizzy. He groped back in his memory for +facts. He had gone out for his walk after dinner. They had dined +at eight. He had been walking some time. Why, in Heaven's name, +this was the quickest thing in the amatory annals of civilization! +His brain was too numbed to work out a perfectly accurate +schedule, but it looked as if she must have got engaged to this +Pickering person before she met him, Bill, in the road that night. + +'It's a wonderful match for dear old Claire,' resumed Lady +Wetherby, twisting the knife in the wound with a happy unconsciousness. +'Dudley's not only a corking good fellow, but he has thirty million +dollars stuffed away in the stocking and a business that brings him +in a perfectly awful mess of money every year. He's the Pickering of +the Pickering automobiles, you know.' + +Bill got up. He stood for a moment holding to the back of his +chair before speaking. It was almost exactly thus that he had felt +in the days when he had gone in for boxing and had stopped +forceful swings with the more sensitive portions of his person. + +'That--that's splendid!' he said. 'I--I think I'll be going.' + +'I heard the car outside just now,' said Lady Wetherby. 'I think +it's probably Claire and Dudley come back. Won't you wait and see +her?' + +Bill shook his head. + +'Well, good-bye for the present, then. You must come round again. +Any friend of Claire's--and it was bully of you to bother about +looking in to tell of Eustace.' + +Bill had reached the door. He was about to turn the handle when +someone turned it on the other side. + +'Why, here is Dudley,' said Lady Wetherby. 'Dudley, this is a +friend of Claire's.' + +Dudley Pickering was one of those men who take the ceremony of +introduction with a measured solemnity. It was his practice to +grasp the party of the second part firmly by the hand, hold it, +look into his eyes in a reverent manner, and get off some little +speech of appreciation, short but full of feeling. The opening +part of this ceremony he performed now. He grasped Bill's hand +firmly, held it, and looked into his eyes. And then, having +performed his business, he fell down on his lines. Not a word +proceeded from him. He dropped the hand and stared at Bill +amazedly and--more than that--with fear. + +Bill, too, uttered no word. It was not one of those chatty +meetings. + +But if they were short on words, both Bill and Mr Pickering were +long on looks. Bill stared at Mr Pickering. Mr Pickering stared at +Bill. + +Bill was drinking in Mr Pickering. The stoutness of Mr Pickering--the +orderliness of Mr Pickering--the dullness of Mr Pickering--all these +things he perceived. And illumination broke upon him. + +Mr Pickering was drinking in Bill. The largeness of Bill--the +embarrassment of Bill--the obvious villainy of Bill--none of these +things escaped his notice. And illumination broke upon him also. + +For Dudley Pickering, in the first moment of their meeting, had +recognized Bill as the man who had been lurking in the grounds and +peering in at the window, the man at whom on the night when he had +become engaged to Claire he had shouted 'Hi!' + +'Where's Claire, Dudley?' asked Lady Wetherby. + +Mr Pickering withdrew his gaze reluctantly from Bill. + +'Gone upstairs.' + +I'll go and tell her that you're here, Mr--You never told me your +name.' + +Bill came to life with an almost acrobatic abruptness. There were +many things of which at that moment he felt absolutely incapable, +and meeting Claire was one of them. + +'No; I must be going,' he said, hurriedly. 'Good-bye.' + +He came very near running out of the room. Lady Wetherby regarded +the practically slammed door with wide eyes. + +'Quick exit of Nut Comedian!' she said. 'Whatever was the matter +with the man? He's scorched a trail in the carpet.' + +Mr Pickering was trembling violently. + +'Do you know who that was? He was the man!' said Mr Pickering. + +'What man?' + +'The man I caught looking in at the window that night!' + +'What nonsense! You must be mistaken. He said he knew Claire quite +well.' + +'But when you suggested that he should meet her he ran.' + +This aspect of the matter had not occurred to Lady Wetherby. + +'So he did!' + +'What did he tell you that showed he knew Claire?' + +'Well, now that I come to think of it, he didn't tell me anything. +I did the talking. He just sat there.' + +Mr Pickering quivered with combined fear and excitement and +inductive reasoning. + +'It was a trick!' he cried. 'Remember what Sherriff said that +night when I told you about finding the man looking in at the +window? He said that the fellow was spying round as a preliminary +move. To-day he trumps up an obviously false excuse for getting +into the house. Was he left alone in the rooms at all?' + +'Yes. Wrench loosed him in here and then came up to tell me.' + +'For several minutes, then, he was alone in the house. Why, he had +time to do all he wanted to do!' + +'Calm down!' + +'I am perfectly calm. But--' + +'You've been seeing too many crook plays, Dudley. A man isn't +necessarily a burglar because he wears a decent suit of clothes.' + +'Why was he lurking in the grounds that night?' + +'You're just imagining that it was the same man.' + +'I am absolutely positive it was the same man.' + +'Well, we can easily settle one thing about him, at any rate. Here +comes Claire. Claire, old girl,' she said, as the door opened, 'do +you know a man named--Darn it! I never got his name, but he's--' + +Claire stood in the doorway, looking from one to the other. + +'What's the matter, Dudley?' she said. + +'Dudley's gone clean up in the air,' explained Lady Wetherby, +tolerantly. 'A friend of yours called to tell me he had seen +Eustace--' + +'So that was his excuse, was it?' said Dudley Pickering. 'Did he +say where Eustace was?' + +'No; he said he had seen him; that was all.' + +'An obviously trumped-up story. He had heard of Eustace's escape +and he knew that any story connected with him would be a passport +into the house.' + +Lady Wetherby turned to Claire. + +'You haven't told us yet if you know the man. He was a big, tall, +broad gazook,' said Lady Wetherby. 'Very English.' + +'He faked the English,' said Dudley Pickering. 'That man was no +more an Englishman than I am.' + +'Be patient with him, Claire,' urged Lady Wetherby. 'He's been +going to the movies too much, and thinks every man who has had his +trousers pressed is a social gangster. This man was the most +English thing I've ever seen--talked like this.' + +She gave a passable reproduction of Bill's speech. Claire started. + +'I don't know him!' she cried. + +Her mind was in a whirl of agitation. Why had Bill come to the +house? What had he said? Had he told Dudley anything? + +'I don't recognize the description,' she said, quickly. 'I don't +know anything about him.' + +'There!' said Dudley Pickering, triumphantly. + +'It's queer,' said Lady Wetherby. 'You're sure you don't know him, +Claire?' + +'Absolutely sure.' + +'He said he was living at a place near here, called Flack's.' + +'I know the place,' said Dudley Pickering. 'A sinister, tumbledown +sort of place. Just where a bunch of crooks would be living.' + +'I thought it was a bee-farm,' said Lady Wetherby. 'One of the +tradesmen told me about it. I saw a most corkingly pretty girl +bicycling down to the village one morning, and they told me she +was named Boyd and kept a bee-farm at Flack's.' + +'A blind!' said Mr Pickering, stoutly. 'The girl's the man's +accomplice. It's quite easy to see the way they work. The girl +comes and settles in the place so that everybody knows her. That's +to lull suspicion. Then the man comes down for a visit and goes +about cleaning up the neighbouring houses. You can't get away from +the fact that this summer there have been half a dozen burglaries +down here, and nobody has found out who did them.' + +Lady Wetherby looked at him indulgently. + +'And now,' she said, 'having got us scared stiff, what are you +going to do about it?' + +'I am going,' he said, with determination, 'to take steps.' + +He went out quickly, the keen, tense man of affairs. + +'Bless him!' said Lady Wetherby. 'I'd no idea your Dudley had so +much imagination, Claire. He's a perfect bomb-shell.' + +Claire laughed shakily. + +'It is odd, though,' said Lady Wetherby, meditatively, 'that this +man should have said that he knew you, when you don't--' + +Claire turned impulsively. + +'Polly, I want to tell you something. Promise you won't tell +Dudley. I wasn't telling the truth just now. I do know this man. I +was engaged to him once.' + +'What!' + +'For goodness' sake don't tell Dudley!' + +'But--' + +'It's all over now; but I used to be engaged to him.' + +'Not when I was in England?' + +'No, after that.' + +'Then he didn't know you are engaged to Dudley now?' + +'N-no. I--I haven't seen him for a long time.' + +Lady Wetherby looked remorseful. + +'Poor man! I must have given him a jolt! But why didn't you tell +me about him before?' + +'Oh, I don't know.' + +'Oh, well, I'm not inquisitive. There's no rubber in my +composition. It's your affair.' + +'You won't tell Dudley?' + +'Of course not. But why not? You've nothing to be ashamed of.' + +'No; but--' + +'Well, I won't tell him, anyway. But I'm glad you told me about +him. Dudley was so eloquent about burglars that he almost had me +going. I wonder where he rushed off to?' + +Dudley Pickering had rushed off to his bedroom, and was examining +a revolver there. He examined it carefully, keenly. Preparedness +was Dudley Pickering's slogan. He looked rather like a stout +sheriff in a film drama. + + + + +16 + + +In the interesting land of India, where snakes abound and +scorpions are common objects of the wayside, a native who has had +the misfortune to be bitten by one of the latter pursues an +admirably common-sense plan. He does not stop to lament, nor does +he hang about analysing his emotions. He runs and runs and runs, +and keeps on running until he has worked the poison out of his +system. Not until then does he attempt introspection. + +Lord Dawlish, though ignorant of this fact, pursued almost +identically the same policy. He did not run on leaving Lady +Wetherby's house, but he took a very long and very rapid walk, +than which in times of stress there are few things of greater +medicinal value to the human mind. To increase the similarity, he +was conscious of a curious sense of being poisoned. He felt +stifled--in want of air. + +Bill was a simple young man, and he had a simple code of ethics. +Above all things he prized and admired and demanded from his +friends the quality of straightness. It was his one demand. He had +never actually had a criminal friend, but he was quite capable of +intimacy with even a criminal, provided only that there was +something spacious about his brand of crime and that it did not +involve anything mean or underhand. It was the fact that Mr +Breitstein whom Claire had wished him to insinuate into his club, +though acquitted of actual crime, had been proved guilty of +meanness and treachery, that had so prejudiced Bill against him. +The worst accusation that he could bring against a man was that he +was not square, that he had not played the game. + +Claire had not been square. It was that, more than the shock of +surprise of Lady Wetherby's news, that had sent him striding along +the State Road at the rate of five miles an hour, staring before +him with unseeing eyes. A sudden recollection of their last +interview brought a dull flush to Bill's face and accelerated his +speed. He felt physically ill. + +It was not immediately that he had arrived at even this sketchy +outline of his feelings. For perhaps a mile he walked as the +scorpion-stung natives run--blindly, wildly, with nothing in his +mind but a desire to walk faster and faster, to walk as no man had +ever walked before. And then--one does not wish to be unduly +realistic, but the fact is too important to be ignored--he began +to perspire. And hard upon that unrefined but wonder-working flow +came a certain healing of spirit. Dimly at first but every moment +more clearly, he found it possible to think. + +In a man of Bill's temperament there are so many qualities wounded +by a blow such as he had received, that it is hardly surprising +that his emotions, when he began to examine them, were mixed. Now +one, now another, of his wounds presented itself to his notice. +And then individual wounds would become difficult to distinguish +in the mass of injuries. Spiritually, he was in the position of a +man who has been hit simultaneously in a number of sensitive spots +by a variety of hard and hurtful things. He was as little able, +during the early stages of his meditations, to say where he was +hurt most as a man who had been stabbed in the back, bitten in the +ankle, hit in the eye, smitten with a blackjack, and kicked on the +shin in the same moment of time. All that such a man would be able +to say with certainty would be that unpleasant things had happened +to him; and that was all that Bill was able to say. + +Little by little, walking swiftly the while, he began to make a +rough inventory. He sorted out his injuries, catalogued them. It +was perhaps his self-esteem that had suffered least of all, for he +was by nature modest. He had a savage humility, valuable in a +crisis of this sort. + +But he looked up to Claire. He had thought her straight. And all +the time that she had been saying those things to him that night +of their last meeting she had been engaged to another man, a fat, +bald, doddering, senile fool, whose only merit was his money. +Scarcely a fair description of Mr Pickering, but in a man in +Bill's position a little bias is excusable. + +Bill walked on. He felt as if he could walk for ever. Automobiles +whirred past, hooting peevishly, but he heeded them not. Dogs +trotted out to exchange civilities, but he ignored them. The +poison in his blood drove him on. + +And then quite suddenly and unexpectedly the fever passed. Almost +in mid-stride he became another man, a healed, sane man, keenly +aware of a very vivid thirst and a desire to sit down and rest +before attempting the ten miles of cement road that lay between +him and home. Half an hour at a wayside inn completed the cure. It +was a weary but clear-headed Bill who trudged back through the +gathering dusk. + +He found himself thinking of Claire as of someone he had known +long ago, someone who had never touched his life. She seemed so +far away that he wondered how she could ever have affected him for +pain or pleasure. He looked at her across a chasm. This is the +real difference between love and infatuation, that infatuation +can be slain cleanly with a single blow. In the hour of clear +vision which had come to him, Bill saw that he had never loved +Claire. It was her beauty that had held him, that and the appeal +which her circumstances had made to his pity. Their minds had not +run smoothly together. Always there had been something that +jarred, a subtle antagonism. And she was crooked. + +Almost unconsciously his mind began to build up an image of the +ideal girl, the girl he would have liked Claire to be, the girl +who would conform to all that he demanded of woman. She would be +brave. He realized now that, even though it had moved his pity, +Claire's querulousness had offended something in him. + +He had made allowances for her, but the ideal girl would have had +no need of allowances. The ideal girl would be plucky, cheerfully +valiant, a fighter. She would not admit the existence of hard +luck. + +She would be honest. Here, too, she would have no need of allowances. +No temptation would be strong enough to make her do a mean act or +think a mean thought, for her courage would give her strength, and +her strength would make her proof against temptation. She would be +kind. That was because she would also be extremely intelligent, +and, being extremely intelligent, would have need of kindness to +enable her to bear with a not very intelligent man like himself. +For the rest, she would be small and alert and pretty, and fair +haired--and brown-eyed--and she would keep a bee farm and her name +would be Elizabeth Boyd. + +Having arrived with a sense of mild astonishment at this +conclusion, Bill found, also to his surprise, that he had walked +ten miles without knowing it and that he was turning in at the +farm gate. Somebody came down the drive, and he saw that it was +Elizabeth. + +She hurried to meet him, small and shadowy in the uncertain light. +James, the cat, stalked rheumatically at her side. She came up to +Bill, and he saw that her face wore an anxious look. He gazed at +her with a curious feeling that it was a very long time since he +had seen her last. + +'Where have you been?' she said, her voice troubled. 'I couldn't +think what had become of you.' + +'I went for a walk.' + +'But you've been gone hours and hours.' + +'I went to a place called Morrisville.' + +'Morrisville!' Elizabeth's eyes opened wide. 'Have you walked +twenty miles?' + +'Why, I--I believe I have.' + +It was the first time he had been really conscious of it. +Elizabeth looked at him in consternation. Perhaps it was the +association in her mind of unexpected walks with the newly-born +activities of the repentant Nutty that gave her the feeling that +there must be some mental upheaval on a large scale at the back of +this sudden ebullition of long-distance pedestrianism. She +remembered that the thought had come to her once or twice during +the past week that all was not well with her visitor, and that he +had seemed downcast and out of spirits. + +She hesitated. + +'Is anything the matter, Mr Chalmers?' + +'No,' said Bill, decidedly. He would have found a difficulty in +making that answer with any ring of conviction earlier in the day, +but now it was different. There was nothing whatever the matter +with him now. He had never felt happier. + +'You're sure?' + +'Absolutely. I feel fine.' + +'I thought--I've been thinking for some days--that you might be in +trouble of some sort.' + +Bill swiftly added another to that list of qualities which he had +been framing on his homeward journey. That girl of his would be +angelically sympathetic. + +'It's awfully good of you,' he said, 'but honestly I feel like--I +feel great.' + +The little troubled look passed from Elizabeth's face. Her eyes +twinkled. + +'You're really feeling happy?' + +'Tremendously.' + +'Then let me damp you. We're in an awful fix!' + +'What! In what way?' + +'About the monkey.' + +'Has he escaped?' + +'That's the trouble--he hasn't.' + +'I don't understand.' + +'Come and sit down and I'll tell you. It's a shame to keep you +standing after your walk.' + +They made their way to the massive stone seat which Mr Flack, the +landlord, had bought at a sale and dumped in a moment of +exuberance on the farm grounds. + +'This is the most hideous thing on earth,' said Elizabeth +casually, 'but it will do to sit on. Now tell me: why did you go +to Lady Wetherby's this afternoon?' + +It was all so remote, it seemed so long ago that he had wanted to +find an excuse for meeting Claire again, that for a moment Bill +hesitated in actual perplexity, and before he could speak Elizabeth +had answered the question for him. + +'I suppose you went out of kindness of heart to relieve the poor +lady's mind,' she said. 'But you certainly did the wrong thing. +You started something!' + +'I didn't tell her the animal was here.' + +'What did you tell her?' + +'I said I had seen it, don't you know.' + +'That was enough.' + +'I'm awfully sorry.' + +'Oh, we shall pull through all right, but we must act at once. We +must be swift and resolute. We must saddle our chargers and up and +away, and all that sort of thing. Show a flash of speed,' she +explained kindly, at the sight of Bill's bewildered face. + +'But what has happened?' + +'The press is on our trail. I've been interviewing reporters all +the afternoon.' + +'Reporters!' + +'Millions of them. The place is alive with them. Keen, hatchet-faced +young men, and every one of them was the man who really unravelled +some murder mystery or other, though the police got the credit for +it. They told me so.' + +'But, I say, how on earth--' + +'--did they get here? I suppose Lady Wetherby invited them.' + +'But why?' + +'She wants the advertisement, of course. I know it doesn't sound +sensational--a lost monkey; but when it's a celebrity's lost +monkey it makes a difference. Suppose King George had lost a +monkey; wouldn't your London newspapers give it a good deal of +space? Especially if it had thrown eggs at one of the ladies and +bitten the Duke of Norfolk in the leg? That's what our visitor has +been doing apparently. At least, he threw eggs at the scullery-maid +and bit a millionaire. It's practically the same thing. At any +rate, there it is. The newspaper men are here, and they seem +to regard this farm as their centre of operations. I had the +greatest difficulty in inducing them to go home to their well-earned +dinners. They wanted to camp out on the place. As it is, there may +still be some of them round, hiding in the grass with notebooks, +and telling one another in whispers that they were the men who +really solved the murder mystery. What shall we do?' + +Bill had no suggestions. + +'You realize our position? I wonder if we could be arrested for +kidnapping. The monkey is far more human than most of the +millionaire children who get kidnapped. It's an awful fix. Did you +know that Lady Wetherby is going to offer a reward for the +animal?' + +'No, really?' + +'Five hundred dollars!' + +'Surely not!' + +'She is. I suppose she feels she can charge it up to necessary +expenses for publicity and still be ahead of the game, taking into +account the advertising she's going to get.' + +'She said nothing about that when I saw her.' + +'No, because it won't be offered until to-morrow or the day after. +One of the newspaper men told me that. The idea is, of course, to +make the thing exciting just when it would otherwise be dying as a +news item. Cumulative interest. It's a good scheme, too, but it +makes it very awkward for me. I don't want to be in the position +of keeping a monkey locked up with the idea of waiting until +somebody starts a bull market in monkeys. I consider that that +sort of thing would stain the spotless escutcheon of the Boyds. It +would be a low trick for that old-established family to play. Not +but what poor, dear Nutty would do it like a shot,' she concluded +meditatively. + +Bill was impressed. + +'It does make it awkward, what?' + +'It makes it more than awkward, what! Take another aspect of the +situation. The night before last my precious Nutty, while ruining +his constitution with the demon rum, thought he saw a monkey that +wasn't there, and instantly resolved to lead a new and better +life. He hates walking, but he has now begun to do his five miles +a day. He loathes cold baths, but he now wallows in them. I don't +know his views on Indian clubs, but I should think that he has a +strong prejudice against them, too, but now you can't go near him +without taking a chance of being brained. Are all these good +things to stop as quickly as they began? If I know Nutty, he would +drop them exactly one minute after he heard that it was a real +monkey he saw that night. And how are we to prevent his hearing? +By a merciful miracle he was out taking his walk when the +newspaper men began to infest the place to-day, but that might not +happen another time. What conclusion does all this suggest to you, +Mr Chalmers?' + +'We ought to get rid of the animal.' + +'This very minute. But don't you bother to come. You must be tired +out, poor thing.' + +'I never felt less tired,' said Bill stoutly. + +Elizabeth looked at him in silence for a moment. + +'You're rather splendid, you know, Mr Chalmers. You make a great +partner for an adventure of this kind. You're nice and solid.' + +The outhouse lay in the neighbourhood of the hives, a gaunt, +wooden structure surrounded by bushes. Elizabeth glanced over her +shoulder as she drew the key from her pocket. + +'You can't think how nervous I was this afternoon,' she said. 'I +thought every moment one of those newspaper men would look in +here. I--James! James! I thought I heard James in those bushes--I +kept heading them away. Once I thought it was all up.' She +unlocked the door. 'One of them was about a yard from the window, +just going to look in. Thank goodness, a bee stung him at the +psychological moment, and--Oh!' + +'What's the matter?' + +'Come and get a banana.' + +They walked to the house. On the way Elizabeth stopped. + +'Why, you haven't had any dinner either!' she said. + +'Never mind me,' said Bill, 'I can wait. Let's get this thing +finished first.' + +'You really are a sport, Mr Chalmers,' said Elizabeth gratefully. +'It would kill me to wait a minute. I shan't feel happy until I've +got it over. Will you stay here while I go up and see that Nutty's +safe in his room?' she added as they entered the house. + +She stopped abruptly. A feline howl had broken the stillness of +the night, followed instantly by a sharp report. + +'What was that?' + +'It sounded like a car backfiring.' + +'No, it was a shot. One of the neighbours, I expect. You can hear +miles away on a night like this. I suppose a cat was after his +chickens. Thank goodness, James isn't a pirate cat. Wait while I +go up and see Nutty.' + +She was gone only a moment. + +'It's all right,' she said. 'I peeped in. He's doing deep +breathing exercises at his window which looks out the other way. +Come along.' + +When they reached the outhouse they found the door open. + +'Did you do that?' said Elizabeth. 'Did you leave it open?' + +'No.' + +'I don't remember doing it myself. It must have swung open. Well, +this saves us a walk. He'll have gone.' + +'Better take a look round, what?' + +'Yes, I suppose so; but he's sure not to be there. Have you a +match?' + +Bill struck one and held it up. + +'Good Lord!' + +The match went out. + +'What is it? What has happened?' + +Bill was fumbling for another match. + +'There's something on the floor. It looks like--I thought for a +minute--' The small flame shot out of the gloom, flickered, then +burned with a steady glow. Bill stooped, bending over something on +the ground. The match burned down. + +Bill's voice came out of the darkness: + +'I say, you were right about that noise. It was a shot. The poor +little chap's down there on the floor with a hole in him the size +of my fist.' + + + + +17 + + +Boyhood, like measles, is one of those complaints which a man +should catch young and have done with, for when it comes in +middle life it is apt to be serious. Dudley Pickering had escaped +boyhood at the time when his contemporaries were contracting it. +It is true that for a few years after leaving the cradle he had +exhibited a certain immatureness, but as soon as he put on +knickerbockers and began to go about a little he outgrew all that. +He avoided altogether the chaotic period which usually lies +between the years of ten and fourteen. At ten he was a thoughtful +and sober-minded young man, at fourteen almost an old fogy. + +And now--thirty-odd years overdue--boyhood had come upon him. As +he examined the revolver in his bedroom, wild and unfamiliar +emotions seethed within him. He did not realize it, but they were +the emotions which should have come to him thirty years before and +driven him out to hunt Indians in the garden. An imagination which +might well have become atrophied through disuse had him as +thoroughly in its control as ever he had had his Pickering Giant. + +He believed almost with devoutness in the plot which he had +detected for the spoliation of Lord Wetherby's summer-house, that +plot of which he held Lord Dawlish to be the mainspring. And it +must be admitted that circumstances had combined to help his +belief. If the atmosphere in which he was moving was not sinister +then there was no meaning in the word. + +Summer homes had been burgled, there was no getting away from +that--half a dozen at least in the past two months. He was a +stranger in the locality, so had no means of knowing that summer +homes were always burgled on Long Island every year, as regularly +as the coming of the mosquito and the advent of the jelly-fish. It +was one of the local industries. People left summer homes lying +about loose in lonely spots, and you just naturally got in through +the cellar window. Such was the Long Islander's simple creed. + +This created in Mr Pickering's mind an atmosphere of burglary, a +receptiveness, as it were, toward burglars as phenomena, and the +extremely peculiar behaviour of the person whom in his thoughts he +always referred to as The Man crystallized it. He had seen The Man +hanging about, peering in at windows. He had shouted 'Hi!' and The +Man had run. The Man had got into the house under the pretence of +being a friend of Claire's. At the suggestion that he should meet +Claire he had dashed away in a panic. And Claire, both then and +later, had denied absolutely any knowledge of him. + +As for the apparently blameless beekeeping that was going on at +the place where he lived, that was easily discounted. Mr Pickering +had heard somewhere or read somewhere--he rather thought that it +was in those interesting but disturbing chronicles of Raffles--that +the first thing an intelligent burglar did was to assume some +open and innocent occupation to avert possible inquiry into his +real mode of life. Mr Pickering did not put it so to himself, for +he was rarely slangy even in thought, but what he felt was that he +had caught The Man and his confederate with the goods. + +If Mr Pickering had had his boyhood at the proper time and +finished with it, he would no doubt have acted otherwise than he +did. He would have contented himself with conducting a war of +defence. He would have notified the police, and considered that +all that remained for him personally to do was to stay in his room +at night with his revolver. But boys will be boys. The only course +that seemed to him in any way satisfactory in this his hour of +rejuvenation was to visit the bee farm, the hotbed of crime, and +keep an eye on it. He wanted to go there and prowl. + +He did not anticipate any definite outcome of his visit. In his +boyish, elemental way he just wanted to take a revolver and a +pocketful of cartridges, and prowl. + +It was a great night for prowling. A moon so little less than full +that the eye could barely detect its slight tendency to become +concave, shone serenely, creating a desirable combination of black +shadows where the prowler might hide and great stretches of light +in which the prowler might reveal his wickedness without disguise. +Mr Pickering walked briskly along the road, then less briskly as +he drew nearer the farm. An opportune belt of shrubs that ran from +the gate adjoining the road to a point not far from the house gave +him just the cover he needed. He slipped into this belt of shrubs +and began to work his way through them. + +Like generals, authors, artists, and others who, after planning +broad effects, have to get down to the detail work, he found that +this was where his troubles began. He had conceived the journey +through the shrubbery in rather an airy mood. He thought he would +just go through the shrubbery. He had not taken into account the +branches, the thorns, the occasional unexpected holes, and he was +both warm and dishevelled when he reached the end of it and found +himself out in the open within a short distance of what he +recognized as beehives. It was not for some time that he was able +to give that selfless attention to exterior objects which is the +prowler's chief asset. For quite a while the only thought of which +he was conscious was that what he needed most was a cold drink and +a cold bath. Then, with a return to clear-headedness, he realized +that he was standing out in the open, visible from three sides to +anyone who might be in the vicinity, and he withdrew into the +shrubbery. He was not fond of the shrubbery, but it was a splendid +place to withdraw into. It swallowed you up. + +This was the last move of the first part of Mr Pickering's active +campaign. He stayed where he was, in the middle of a bush, and +waited for the enemy to do something. What he expected him to do +he did not know. The subconscious thought that animated him was +that on a night like this something was bound to happen sooner or +later. Just such a thought on similarly stimulating nights had +animated men of his acquaintance thirty years ago, men who were +as elderly and stolid and unadventurous now as Mr Pickering had +been then. He would have resented the suggestion profoundly, but +the truth of the matter was that Dudley Pickering, after a late +start, had begun to play Indians. + +Nothing had happened for a long time--for such a long time that, +in spite of the ferment within him, Mr Pickering almost began to +believe that nothing would happen. The moon shone with unutterable +calm. The crickets and the tree frogs performed their interminable +duet, apparently unconscious that they were attacking it in +different keys--a fact that, after a while, began to infuriate +Mr Pickering. Mosquitoes added their reedy tenor to the concert. +A twig on which he was standing snapped with a report like a pistol. +The moon went on shining. + +Away in the distance a dog began to howl. An automobile passed in +the road. For a few moments Mr Pickering was able to occupy +himself pleasantly with speculations as to its make; and then he +became aware that something was walking down the back of his neck +just beyond the point where his fingers could reach it. Discomfort +enveloped Mr Pickering. At various times by day he had seen +long-winged black creatures with slim waists and unpleasant faces. +Could it be one of these? Or a caterpillar? Or--and the maddening +thing was that he did not dare to slap at it, for who knew what +desperate characters the sound might not attract? + +Well, it wasn't stinging him; that was something. + +A second howling dog joined the first one. A wave of sadness was +apparently afflicting the canine population of the district to-night. + +Mr Pickering's vitality began to ebb. He was ageing, and +imagination slackened its grip. And then, just as he had begun to +contemplate the possibility of abandoning the whole adventure and +returning home, he was jerked back to boyhood again by the sound +of voices. + +He shrank farther back into the bushes. A man--The Man--was +approaching, accompanied by his female associate. They passed so +close to him that he could have stretched out a hand and touched +them. + +The female associate was speaking, and her first words set all Mr +Pickering's suspicions dancing a dance of triumph. The girl gave +herself away with her opening sentence. + +'You can't think how nervous I was this afternoon,' he heard her +say. She had a soft pleasant voice; but soft, pleasant voices may +be the vehicles for conveying criminal thoughts. 'I thought every +moment one of those newspaper men would look in here.' + +Where was here? Ah, that outhouse! Mr Pickering had had his +suspicions of that outhouse already. It was one of those +structures that look at you furtively as if something were hiding +in them. + +'James! James! I thought I heard James in those bushes.' + +The girl was looking straight at the spot occupied by Mr +Pickering, and it had been the start caused by her first words and +the resultant rustle of branches that had directed her attention +to him. He froze. The danger passed. She went on speaking. Mr +Pickering pondered on James. Who was James? Another of the gang, +of course. How many of them were there? + +'Once I thought it was all up. One of them was about a yard from +the window, just going to look in.' + +Mr Pickering thrilled. There was something hidden in the outhouse, +then! Swag? + +'Thank goodness, a bee stung him at the psychological moment, +and--oh!' + +She stopped, and The Man spoke: + +'What's the matter?' + +It interested Mr Pickering that The Man retained his English +accent even when talking privately with his associates. For +practice, no doubt. + +'Come and get a banana,' said the girl. And they went off together +in the direction of the house, leaving Mr Pickering bewildered. +Why a banana? Was it a slang term of the underworld for a pistol? +It must be that. + +But he had no time for speculation. Now was his chance, the only +chance he would ever get of looking into that outhouse and finding +out its mysterious contents. He had seen the girl unlock the door. +A few steps would take him there. All it needed was nerve. With a +strong effort Mr Pickering succeeded in obtaining the nerve. He +burst from his bush and trotted to the outhouse door, opened it, +and looked in. And at that moment something touched his leg. + +At the right time and in the right frame of mind man is capable of +stoic endurances that excite wonder and admiration. Mr Pickering +was no weakling. He had once upset his automobile in a ditch, and +had waited for twenty minutes until help came to relieve a broken +arm, and he had done it without a murmur. But on the present +occasion there was a difference. His mind was not adjusted for the +occurrence. There are times when it is unseasonable to touch a man +on the leg. This was a moment when it was unseasonable in the case +of Mr Pickering. He bounded silently into the air, his whole being +rent asunder as by a cataclysm. + +He had been holding his revolver in his hand as a protection +against nameless terrors, and as he leaped he pulled the trigger. +Then with the automatic instinct for self-preservation, he sprang +back into the bushes, and began to push his way through them until +he had reached a safe distance from the danger zone. + +James, the cat, meanwhile, hurt at the manner in which his +friendly move had been received, had taken refuge on the outhouse +roof. He mewed complainingly, a puzzled note in his voice. Mr +Pickering's behaviour had been one of those things that no fellow +can understand. The whole thing seemed inexplicable to James. + + + + +18 + + +Lord Dawlish stood in the doorway of the outhouse, holding the +body of Eustace gingerly by the tail. It was a solemn moment. +There was no room for doubt as to the completeness of the +extinction of Lady Wetherby's pet. + +Dudley Pickering's bullet had done its lethal work. Eustace's +adventurous career was over. He was through. + +Elizabeth's mouth was trembling, and she looked very white in the +moonlight. Being naturally soft-hearted, she deplored the tragedy +for its own sake; and she was also, though not lacking in courage, +decidedly upset by the discovery that some person unknown had been +roaming her premises with a firearm. + +'Oh, Bill!' she said. Then: 'Poor little chap!' And then: 'Who +could have done it?' + +Lord Dawlish did not answer. His whole mind was occupied at the +moment with the contemplation of the fact that she had called him +Bill. Then he realized that she had spoken three times and +expected a reply. + +'Who could have done it?' + +Bill pondered. Never a quick thinker, the question found him +unprepared. + +'Some fellow, I expect,' he said at last brightly. 'Got in, don't +you know, and then his pistol went off by accident.' + +'But what was he doing with a pistol?' + +Bill looked a little puzzled at this. + +'Why, he would have a pistol, wouldn't he? I thought everybody +had over here.' + +Except for what he had been able to observe during the brief +period of his present visit, Lord Dawlish's knowledge of the +United States had been derived from the American plays which he +had seen in London, and in these chappies were producing revolvers +all the time. He had got the impression that a revolver was as +much a part of the ordinary well-dressed man's equipment in the +United States as a collar. + +'I think it was a burglar,' said Elizabeth. 'There have been a lot +of burglaries down here this summer.' + +'Would a burglar burgle the outhouse? Rummy idea, rather, what? +Not much sense in it. I think it must have been a tramp. I expect +tramps are always popping about and nosing into all sorts of +extraordinary places, you know.' + +'He must have been standing quite close to us while we were +talking,' said Elizabeth, with a shiver. + +Bill looked about him. Everywhere was peace. No sinister sounds +competed with the croaking of the tree frogs. No alien figures +infested the landscape. The only alien figure, that of Mr +Pickering, was wedged into a bush, invisible to the naked eye. + +'He's gone now, at any rate,' he said. 'What are we going to do?' + +Elizabeth gave another shiver as she glanced hurriedly at the +deceased. After life's fitful fever Eustace slept well, but he was +not looking his best. + +'With--it?' she said. + +'I say,' advised Bill, 'I shouldn't call him "it," don't you know. +It sort of rubs it in. Why not "him"? I suppose we had better bury +him. Have you a spade anywhere handy?' + +'There isn't a spade on the place.' + +Bill looked thoughtful. + +'It takes weeks to make a hole with anything else, you know,' he +said. 'When I was a kid a friend of mine bet me I wouldn't dig my +way through to China with a pocket knife. It was an awful frost. I +tried for a couple of days, and broke the knife and didn't get +anywhere near China.' He laid the remains on the grass and +surveyed them meditatively. 'This is what fellows always run up +against in the detective novels--What to Do With the Body. They +manage the murder part of it all right, and then stub their toes +on the body problem.' + +'I wish you wouldn't talk as if we had done a murder.' + +'I feel as if we had, don't you?' + +'Exactly.' + +'I read a story once where a fellow slugged somebody and melted +the corpse down in a bath tub with sulphuric--' + +'Stop! You're making me sick!' + +'Only a suggestion, don't you know,' said Bill apologetically. + +'Well, suggest something else, then.' + +'How about leaving him on Lady Wetherby's doorstep? See what I +mean--let them take him in with the morning milk? Or, if you would +rather ring the bell and go away, and--you don't think much of +it?' + +'I simply haven't the nerve to do anything so risky.' + +'Oh, I would do it. There would be no need for you to come.' + +'I wouldn't dream of deserting you.' + +'That's awfully good of you.' + +'Besides, I'm not going to be left alone to-night until I can jump +into my little white bed and pull the clothes over my head. I'm +scared, I'm just boneless with fright. And I wouldn't go anywhere +near Lady Wetherby's doorstep with it.' + +'Him.' + +'It's no use, I can't think of it as "him." It's no good asking me +to.' + +Bill frowned thoughtfully. + +'I read a story once where two chappies wanted to get rid of a +body. They put it inside a fellow's piano.' + +'You do seem to have read the most horrible sort of books.' + +'I rather like a bit of blood with my fiction,' said Bill. 'What +about this piano scheme I read about?' + +'People only have talking machines in these parts.' + +'I read a story--' + +'Let's try to forget the stories you've read. Suggest something of +your own.' + +'Well, could we dissect the little chap?' + +'Dissect him?' + +'And bury him in the cellar, you know. Fellows do it to their +wives.' + +Elizabeth shuddered. + +'Try again,' she said. + +'Well, the only other thing I can think of is to take him into the +woods and leave him there. It's a pity we can't let Lady Wetherby +know where he is; she seems rather keen on him. But I suppose the +main point is to get rid of him.' + +'I know how we can do both. That's a good idea of yours about the +woods. They are part of Lady Wetherby's property. I used to wander +about there in the spring when the house was empty. There's a sort +of shack in the middle of them. I shouldn't think anybody ever +went there--it's a deserted sort of place. We could leave him +there, and then--well, we might write Lady Wetherby a letter or +something. We could think out that part afterward.' + +'It's the best thing we've thought of. You really want to come?' + +'If you attempt to leave here without me I shall scream. Let's be +starting.' + +Bill picked Eustace up by his convenient tail. + +'I read a story once,' he said, 'where a fellow was lugging a +corpse through a wood, when suddenly--' + +'Stop right there,' said Elizabeth firmly. + +During the conversation just recorded Dudley Pickering had been +keeping a watchful eye on Bill and Elizabeth from the interior of +a bush. His was not the ideal position for espionage, for he was +too far off to hear what they said, and the light was too dim to +enable him to see what it was that Bill was holding. It looked to +Mr Pickering like a sack or bag of some sort. As time went by he +became convinced that it was a sack, limp and empty at present, +but destined later to receive and bulge with what he believed was +technically known as the swag. When the two objects of vigilance +concluded their lengthy consultation, and moved off in the +direction of Lady Wetherby's woods, any doubts he may have had as +to whether they were the criminals he had suspected them of being +were dispersed. The whole thing worked out logically. + +The Man, having spied out the land in his two visits to Lady +Wetherby's house, was now about to break in. His accomplice would +stand by with the sack. With a beating heart Mr Pickering gripped +his revolver and moved round in the shadow of the shrubbery till +he came to the gate, when he was just in time to see the guilty +couple disappear into the woods. He followed them. He was glad to +get on the move again. While he had been wedged into the bush, +quite a lot of the bush had been wedged into him. Something sharp +had pressed against the calf of his leg, and he had been pinched +in a number of tender places. And he was convinced that one more +of God's unpleasant creatures had got down the back of his neck. + +Dudley Pickering moved through the wood as snakily as he could. +Nature had shaped him more for stability than for snakiness, but +he did his best. He tingled with the excitement of the chase, and +endeavoured to creep through the undergrowth like one of those +intelligent Indians of whom he had read so many years before in +the pages of Mr Fenimore Cooper. In those days Dudley Pickering +had not thought very highly of Fenimore Cooper, holding his work +deficient in serious and scientific interest; but now it seemed to +him that there had been something in the man after all, and he +resolved to get some of his books and go over them again. He +wished he had read them more carefully at the time, for they +doubtless contained much information and many hints which would +have come in handy just now. He seemed, for example, to recall +characters in them who had the knack of going through forests +without letting a single twig crack beneath their feet. Probably +the author had told how this was done. In his unenlightened state +it was beyond Mr Pickering. The wood seemed carpeted with twigs. +Whenever he stepped he trod on one, and whenever he trod on one it +cracked beneath his feet. There were moments when he felt gloomily +that he might just as well be firing a machine-gun. + +Bill, meanwhile, Elizabeth following close behind him, was +ploughing his way onward. From time to time he would turn to +administer some encouraging remark, for it had come home to him by +now that encouraging remarks were what she needed very much in the +present crisis of her affairs. She was showing him a new and +hitherto unsuspected side of her character. The Elizabeth whom he +had known--the valiant, self-reliant Elizabeth--had gone, leaving +in her stead someone softer, more appealing, more approachable. It +was this that was filling him with strange emotions as he led the +way to their destination. + +He was becoming more and more conscious of a sense of being drawn +very near to Elizabeth, of a desire to soothe, comfort, and protect +her. It was as if to-night he had discovered the missing key to a +puzzle or the missing element in some chemical combination. Like +most big men, his mind was essentially a protective mind; weakness +drew out the best that was in him. And it was only to-night that +Elizabeth had given any sign of having any weakness in her +composition. That clear vision which had come to him on his long +walk came again now, that vivid conviction that she was the only +girl in the world for him. + +He was debating within himself the advisability of trying to find +words to express this sentiment, when Mr Pickering, the modern +Chingachgook, trod on another twig in the background and Elizabeth +stopped abruptly with a little cry. + +'What was that?' she demanded. + +Bill had heard a noise too. It was impossible to be within a dozen +yards of Mr Pickering, when on the trail, and not hear a noise. +The suspicion that someone was following them did not come to him, +for he was a man rather of common sense than of imagination, and +common sense was asking him bluntly why the deuce anybody should +want to tramp after them through a wood at that time of night. He +caught the note of panic in Elizabeth's voice, and was soothing +her. + +'It was just a branch breaking. You hear all sorts of rum noises +in a wood.' + +'I believe it's the man with the pistol following us!' + +'Nonsense. Why should he? Silly thing to do!' He spoke almost +severely. + +'Look!' cried Elizabeth. + +'What?' + +'I saw someone dodge behind that tree.' + +'You mustn't let yourself imagine things. Buck up!' + +'I can't buck up. I'm scared.' + +'Which tree did you think you saw someone dodge behind?' + +'That big one there.' + +'Well, listen: I'll go back and--' + +'If you leave me for an instant I shall die in agonies.' She +gulped. 'I never knew I was such a coward before. I'm just a +worm.' + +'Nonsense. This sort of thing might frighten anyone. I read a +story once--' + +'Don't!' + +Bill found that his heart had suddenly begun to beat with +unaccustomed rapidity. The desire to soothe, comfort, and protect +Elizabeth became the immediate ambition of his life. It was very +dark where they stood. The moonlight, which fell in little patches +round them, did not penetrate the thicket which they had entered. +He could hardly see her. He was merely aware of her as a presence. +An excellent idea occurred to him. + +'Hold my hand,' he said. + +It was what he would have said to a frightened child, and there was +much of the frightened child about Elizabeth then. The Eustace mystery +had given her a shock which subsequent events had done nothing to +dispel, and she had lost that jauntiness and self-confidence which was +her natural armour against the more ordinary happenings of life. + +Something small and soft slid gratefully into his palm, and there +was silence for a space. Bill said nothing. Elizabeth said +nothing. And Mr Pickering had stopped treading on twigs. The +faintest of night breezes ruffled the tree-tops above them. The +moonbeams filtered through the branches. He held her hand tightly. + +'Better?' + +'Much.' + +The breeze died away. Not a leaf stirred. The wood was very still. +Somewhere on a bough a bird moved drowsily 'All right?' + +'Yes.' + +And then something happened--something shattering, disintegrating. +It was only a pheasant, but it sounded like the end of the world. +It rose at their feet with a rattle that filled the universe, and +for a moment all was black confusion. And when that moment had +passed it became apparent to Bill that his arm was round +Elizabeth, that she was sobbing helplessly, and that he was +kissing her. Somebody was talking very rapidly in a low voice. + +He found that it was himself. + +'Elizabeth!' + +There was something wonderful about the name, a sort of music. +This was odd, because the name, as a name, was far from being a +favourite of his. Until that moment childish associations had +prejudiced him against it. It had been inextricably involved in +his mind with an atmosphere of stuffy schoolrooms and general +misery, for it had been his misfortune that his budding mind was +constitutionally incapable of remembering who had been Queen of +England at the time of the Spanish Armada--a fact that had caused +a good deal of friction with a rather sharp-tempered governess. +But now it seemed the only possible name for a girl to have, the +only label that could even remotely suggest those feminine charms +which he found in this girl beside him. There was poetry in every +syllable of it. It was like one of those deep chords which fill +the hearer with vague yearnings for strange and beautiful things. +He asked for nothing better than to stand here repeating it. + +'Elizabeth!' + +'Bill, dear!' + +That sounded good too. There was music in 'Bill' when properly +spoken. The reason why all the other Bills in the world had got +the impression that it was a prosaic sort of name was that there +was only one girl in existence capable of speaking it properly, +and she was not for them. + +'Bill, are you really fond of me?' + +'Fond of you!' + +She gave a sigh. 'You're so splendid!' + +Bill was staggered. These were strange words. He had never thought +much of himself. He had always looked on himself as rather a +chump--well-meaning, perhaps, but an awful ass. It seemed +incredible that any one--and Elizabeth of all people--could look +on him as splendid. + +And yet the very fact that she had said it gave it a plausible +sort of sound. It shook his convictions. Splendid! Was he? By +Jove, perhaps he was, what? Rum idea, but it grew on a chap. +Filled with a novel feeling of exaltation, he kissed Elizabeth +eleven times in rapid succession. + +He felt devilish fit. He would have liked to run a mile or two and +jump a few gates. He wished five or six starving beggars would +come along; it would be pleasant to give the poor blighters money. +It was too much to expect at that time of night, of course, but it +would be rather jolly if Jess Willard would roll up and try to +pick a quarrel. He would show him something. He felt grand and +strong and full of beans. What a ripping thing life was when you +came to think of it. + +'This,' he said, 'is perfectly extraordinary!' And time stood +still. + +A sense of something incongruous jarred upon Bill. Something +seemed to be interfering with the supreme romance of that golden +moment. It baffled him at first. Then he realized that he was +still holding Eustace by the tail. + +Dudley Pickering had watched these proceedings--as well as the +fact that it was extremely dark and that he was endeavouring to +hide a portly form behind a slender bush would permit him--with a +sense of bewilderment. A comic artist drawing Mr Pickering at that +moment would no doubt have placed above his head one of those +large marks of interrogation which lend vigour and snap to modern +comic art. Certainly such a mark of interrogation would have +summed up his feelings exactly. Of what was taking place he had +not the remotest notion. All he knew was that for some inexplicable +reason his quarry had come to a halt and seemed to have settled down +for an indefinite stay. Voices came to him in an indistinguishable +murmur, intensely irritating to a conscientious tracker. One of +Fenimore Cooper's Indians--notably Chingachgook, if, which seemed +incredible, that was really the man's name--would have crept up +without a sound and heard what was being said and got in on the +ground floor of whatever plot was being hatched. But experience +had taught Mr Pickering that, superior as he was to Chingachgook +and his friends in many ways, as a creeper he was not in their class. +He weighed thirty or forty pounds more than a first-class creeper +should. Besides, creeping is like golf. You can't take it up in the +middle forties and expect to compete with those who have been at it +from infancy. + +He had resigned himself to an all-night vigil behind the bush, +when to his great delight he perceived that things had begun to +move again. There was a rustling of feet in the undergrowth, and +he could just see two indistinct forms making their way among the +bushes. He came out of his hiding place and followed stealthily, +or as stealthily as the fact that he had not even taken a +correspondence course in creeping allowed. And profiting by +earlier mistakes, he did succeed in making far less noise than +before. In place of his former somewhat elephantine method of +progression he adopted a species of shuffle which had excellent +results, for it enabled him to brush twigs away instead of +stepping flatfootedly on them. The new method was slow, but it had +no other disadvantages. + +Because it was slow, Mr Pickering was obliged to follow his prey +almost entirely by ear. It was easy at first, for they seemed to +be hurrying on regardless of noise. Then unexpectedly the sounds +of their passage ceased. + +He halted. In his boyish way the first thing he thought was that +it was an ambush. He had a vision of that large man suspecting his +presence and lying in wait for him with a revolver. This was not a +comforting thought. Of course, if a man is going to fire a +revolver at you it makes little difference whether he is a giant +or a pygmy, but Mr Pickering was in no frame of mind for nice +reasoning. It was the thought of Bill's physique which kept him +standing there irresolute. + +What would Chingachgook--assuming, for purposes of argument, that +any sane godfather could really have given a helpless child a name +like that--have done? He would, Mr Pickering considered, after +giving the matter his earnest attention, have made a _detour_ +and outflanked the enemy. An excellent solution of the difficulty. +Mr Pickering turned to the left and began to advance circuitously, +with the result that, before he knew what he was doing, he came +out into a clearing and understood the meaning of the sudden +silence which had perplexed him. Footsteps made no sound on this +mossy turf. + +He knew where he was now; the clearing was familiar. This was +where Lord Wetherby's shack-studio stood; and there it was, right +in front of him, black and clear in the moonlight. And the two +dark figures were going into it. + +Mr Pickering retreated into the shelter of the bushes and mused +upon this thing. It seemed to him that for centuries he had been +doing nothing but retreat into bushes for this purpose. His +perplexity had returned. He could imagine no reason why burglars +should want to visit Lord Wetherby's studio. He had taken it for +granted, when he had tracked them to the clearing, that they were +on their way to the house, which was quite close to the shack, +separated from it only by a thin belt of trees and a lawn. + +They had certainly gone in. He had seen them with his own eyes--first +the man, then very close behind him, apparently holding to his coat, +the girl. But why? + +Creep up and watch them? Would Chingachgook have taken a risk like +that? Hardly, unless insured with some good company. Then what? He +was still undecided when he perceived the objects of his attention +emerging. He backed a little farther into the bushes. + +They stood for an instant, listening apparently. The man no longer +carried the sack. They exchanged a few inaudible words. Then they +crossed the clearing and entered the wood a few yards to his +right. He could hear the crackling of their footsteps diminishing +in the direction of the road. + +A devouring curiosity seized upon Mr Pickering. He wanted, more +than he had wanted almost anything before in his life, to find out +what the dickens they had been up to in there. He listened. The +footsteps were no longer audible. He ran across the clearing and +into the shack. It was then that he discovered that he had no +matches. + +This needless infliction, coming upon him at the crisis of an +adventurous night, infuriated Mr Pickering. He swore softly. He +groped round the walls for an electric-light switch, but the shack +had no electric-light switch. When there was need to illuminate it +an oil lamp performed the duty. This occurred to Mr Pickering +after he had been round the place three times, and he ceased to +grope for a switch and began to seek for a match-box. He was still +seeking it when he was frozen in his tracks by the sound of +footsteps, muffled but by their nearness audible, just outside the +door. He pulled out his pistol, which he had replaced in his +pocket, backed against the wall, and stood there prepared to sell +his life dearly. + +The door opened. + +One reads of desperate experiences ageing people in a single +night. His present predicament aged Mr Pickering in a single +minute. In the brief interval of time between the opening of the +door and the moment when a voice outside began to speak he became +a full thirty years older. His boyish ardour slipped from him, and +he was once more the Dudley Pickering whom the world knew, the +staid and respectable middle-aged man of affairs, who would have +given a million dollars not to have got himself mixed up in this +deplorable business. + +And then the voice spoke. + +'I'll light the lamp,' it said; and with an overpowering feeling +of relief Mr Pickering recognized it as Lord Wetherby's. A moment +later the temperamental peer's dapper figure became visible in +silhouette against a background of pale light. + +'Ah-hum!' said Mr Pickering. + +The effect on Lord Wetherby was remarkable. To hear some one clear +his throat at the back of a dark room, where there should +rightfully be no throat to be cleared, would cause even your man +of stolid habit a passing thrill. The thing got right in among +Lord Wetherby's highly sensitive ganglions like an earthquake. He +uttered a strangled cry, then dashed out and slammed the door +behind him. + +'There's someone in there!' + +Lady Wetherby's tranquil voice made itself heard. + +'Nonsense; who could be in there?' + +'I heard him, I tell you. He growled at me!' + +It seemed to Mr Pickering that the time had come to relieve the +mental distress which he was causing his host. He raised his +voice. + +'It's all right!' he called. + +'There!' said Lord Wetherby. + +'Who's that?' asked Lady Wetherby, through the door. + +'It's all right. It's me--Pickering.' + +The door was opened a few inches by a cautious hand. + +'Is that you, Pickering?' + +'Yes. It's all right.' + +'Don't keep saying it's all right,' said Lord Wetherby, irritably. +'It isn't all right. What do you mean by hiding in the dark and +popping out and barking at a man? You made me bite my tongue. I've +never had such a shock in my life.' + +Mr Pickering left his lair and came out into the open. Lord +Wetherby was looking aggrieved, Lady Wetherby peacefully +inquisitive. For the first time Mr Pickering discovered that +Claire was present. She was standing behind Lady Wetherby with a +floating white something over her head, looking very beautiful. + +'For the love of Mike!' said Lady Wetherby. + +Mr Pickering became aware that he was still holding the revolver. + +'Oh, ah!' he said, and pocketed the weapon. + +'Barking at people!' muttered Lord Wetherby in a querulous +undertone. + +'What on earth are you doing, Dudley?' said Claire. + +There was a note in her voice which both puzzled and pained Mr +Pickering, a note that seemed to suggest that she found herself in +imperfect sympathy with him. Her expression deepened the +suggestion. It was a cold expression, unfriendly, as if it was not +so keen a pleasure to Claire to look at him as it should be for a +girl to look at the man whom she is engaged to marry. He had +noticed the same note in her voice and the same hostile look in +her eye earlier in the evening. He had found her alone, reading a +letter which, as the stamp on the envelope showed, had come from +England. She had seemed so upset that he had asked her if it +contained bad news, and she had replied in the negative with so +much irritation that he had desisted from inquiries. But his own +idea was that she had had bad news from home. Mr Pickering still +clung to his early impression that her little brother Percy was +consumptive, and he thought the child must have taken a turn for +the worse. It was odd that she should have looked and spoken like +that then, and it was odd that she should look and speak like that +now. He had been vaguely disturbed then and he was vaguely +disturbed now. He had the feeling that all was not well. + +'Yes,' said Lady Wetherby. 'What on earth are you doing, Dudley?' + +'Popping out!' grumbled Lord Wetherby. + +'We came here to see Algie's picture, which has got something +wrong with its eyes apparently, and we find you hiding in the dark +with a gun. What's the idea?' + +'It's a long story,' said Mr Pickering. + +'We have the night before us,' said Lady Wetherby. + +'You remember The Man--the fellow I found looking in at the +window, The Man who said he knew Claire?' + +'You've got that man on the brain, Dudley. What's he been doing to +you now?' + +'I tracked him here.' + +'Tracked him? Where from?' + +'From that bee-farm place where he's living. He and that girl you +spoke of went into these woods. I thought they were making for the +house, but they went into the shack.' + +'What did they do then?' asked Lady Wetherby. + +'They came out again.' + +'Why?' + +'That's what I was trying to find out.' + +Lord Wetherby uttered an exclamation. + +'By Jove!' There was apprehension in his voice, but mingled with +it a certain pleased surprise. 'Perhaps they were after my +picture. I'll light the lamp. Good Lord, picture +thieves--Romneys--missing Gainsboroughs--' His voice trailed off +as he found the lamp and lit it. Relief and disappointment were +nicely blended in his next words: 'No, it's still there.' + +The soft light of the lamp filled the studio. + +'Well, that's a comfort,' said Lady Wetherby, sauntering in. 'We +couldn't afford to lose--Oh!' + +Lord Wetherby spun round as her scream burst upon his already +tortured nerve centres. Lady Wetherby was kneeling on the floor. +Claire hurried in. + +'What is it, Polly?' + +Lady Wetherby rose to her feet, and pointed. Her face had lost its +look of patient amusement. It was hard and set. She eyed Mr +Pickering in a menacing way. + +'Look!' + +Claire followed her finger. + +'Good gracious! It's Eustace!' + +'Shot!' + +She was looking intently at Mr Pickering. 'Well, Dudley,' she +said, coldly, 'what about it?' + +Mr Pickering found that they were all looking at him--Lady +Wetherby with glittering eyes, Claire with cool scorn, Lord +Wetherby with a horror which he seemed to have achieved with +something of an effort. + +'Well!' said Claire. + +'What about it, Dudley?' said Lady Wetherby. + +'I must say, Pickering,' said Lord Wetherby, 'much as I disliked +the animal, it's a bit thick!' + +Mr Pickering recoiled from their accusing gaze. + +'Good heavens! Do you think I did it?' + +In the midst of his anguish there flashed across his mind the +recollection of having seen just this sort of situation in a +moving picture, and of having thought it far-fetched. + +Lady Wetherby's good-tempered mouth, far from good-tempered now, +curled in a devastating sneer. She was looking at him as Claire, +in the old days when they had toured England together in road +companies, had sometimes seen her look at recalcitrant landladies. +The landladies, without exception, had wilted beneath that gaze, +and Mr Pickering wilted now. + +'But--but--but--' was all he could contrive to say. + +'Why should we think you did it?' said Lady Wetherby, bitterly. +'You had a grudge against the poor brute for biting you. We find +you hiding here with a pistol and a story about burglars which an +infant couldn't swallow. I suppose you thought that, if you +planted the poor creature's body here, it would be up to Algie to +get rid of it, and that if he were found with it I should think +that it was he who had killed the animal.' + +The look of horror which Lord Wetherby had managed to assume +became genuine at these words. The gratitude which he had been +feeling towards Mr Pickering for having removed one of the chief +trials of his existence vanished. + +'Great Scot!' he cried. 'So that was the game, was it?' + +Mr Pickering struggled for speech. This was a nightmare. + +'But I didn't! I didn't! I didn't! I tell you I hadn't the +remotest notion the creature was there.' + +'Oh, come, Pickering!' said Lord Wetherby. 'Come, come, come!' + +Mr Pickering found that his accusers were ebbing away. Lady +Wetherby had gone. Claire had gone. Only Lord Wetherby remained, +looking at him like a pained groom. He dashed from the place and +followed his hostess, speaking incoherently of burglars, +outhouses, and misunderstandings. He even mentioned Chingachgook. +But Lady Wetherby would not listen. Nobody would listen. + +He found Lord Wetherby at his side, evidently prepared to go +deeper into the subject. Lord Wetherby was looking now like a +groom whose favourite horse has kicked him in the stomach. + +'Wouldn't have thought it of you, Pickering,' said Lord Wetherby. +Mr Pickering found no words. 'Wouldn't, honestly. Low trick!' + +'But I tell you--' + +'Devilish low trick!' repeated Lord Wetherby, with a shake of the +head. 'Laws of hospitality--eaten our bread and salt, what!--all +that sort of thing--kill valuable monkey--not done, you know--low, +very low!' + +And he followed his wife, now in full retreat, with scorn and +repulsion written in her very walk. + +'Mr Pickering!' + +It was Claire. She stood there, holding something towards him, +something that glittered in the moonlight. Her voice was hard, and +the expression on her face suggested that in her estimation he was +a particularly low-grade worm, one of the submerged tenth of the +worm world. + +'Eh?' said Mr Pickering, dazedly. + +He looked at what she had in her hand, but it conveyed nothing to +his overwrought mind. + +'Take it!' + +'Eh?' + +Claire stamped. + +'Very well,' she said. + +She flung something on the ground before him--a small, sparkling +object. Then she swept away, his eyes following her, and was lost +in the darkness of the trees. Mechanically Mr Pickering stooped to +pick up what she had let fall. He recognized it now. It was her +engagement ring. + + + + +19 + + +Bill leaned his back against the gate that separated the grounds of +the bee-farm from the high road and mused pleasantly. He was alone. +Elizabeth was walking up the drive on her way to the house to tell +the news to Nutty. James, the cat, who had come down from the roof +of the outhouse, was sharpening his claws on a neighbouring tree. +After the whirl of excitement that had been his portion for the past +few hours, the peace of it all appealed strongly to Bill. It suited +the mood of quiet happiness which was upon him. + +Quietly happy, that was how he felt now that it was all over. The +white heat of emotion had subsided to a gentle glow of contentment +conducive to thought. He thought tenderly of Elizabeth. She had +turned to wave her hand before going into the house, and he was +still smiling fatuously. Wonderful girl! Lucky chap he was! Rum, +the way they had come together! Talk about Fate, what? + +He stooped to tickle James, who had finished stropping his claws +and was now enjoying a friction massage against his leg, and began +to brood on the inscrutable way of Fate. + +Rum thing, Fate! Most extraordinary! + +Suppose he had never gone down to Marvis Bay that time. He had +wavered between half a dozen places; it was pure chance that he +had chosen Marvis Bay. If he hadn't he would never have met old +Nutcombe. Probably old Nutcombe had wavered between half a dozen +places too. If they hadn't both happened to choose Marvis Bay they +would never have met. And if they hadn't been the only visitors +there they might never have got to know each other. And if old +Nutcombe hadn't happened to slice his approach shots he would +never have put him under an obligation. Queer old buster, old +Nutcombe, leaving a fellow he hardly knew from Adam a cool million +quid just because he cured him of slicing. + +It was at this point in his meditations that it suddenly occurred to +Bill that he had not yet given a thought to what was immeasurably +the most important of any of the things that ought to be occupying +his mind just now. What was he to do about this Lord Dawlish +business? + +Life at Brookport had so accustomed him to being plain Bill +Chalmers that it had absolutely slipped his mind that he was +really Lord Dawlish, the one man in the world whom Elizabeth +looked on as an enemy. What on earth was he to do about that? Tell +her? But if he told her, wouldn't she chuck him on the spot? + +This was awful. The dreamy sense of well-being left him. He +straightened himself to face this problem, ignoring the hint of +James, who was weaving circles about his legs expectant of more +tickling. A man cannot spend his time tickling cats when he has to +concentrate on a dilemma of this kind. + +Suppose he didn't tell her? How would that work out? Was a marriage +legal if the cove who was being married went through it under a +false name? He seemed to remember seeing a melodrama in his boyhood +the plot of which turned on that very point. Yes, it began to come +back to him. An unpleasant bargee with a black moustache had said, +'This woman is not your wife!' and caused the dickens of a lot of +unpleasantness; but there in its usual slipshod way memory failed. +Had subsequent events proved the bargee right or wrong? It was a +question for a lawyer to decide. Jerry Nichols would know. Well, +there was plenty of time, thank goodness, to send Jerry Nichols a +cable, asking for his professional opinion, and to get the straight +tip long before the wedding day arrived. + +Laying this part of it aside for the moment, and assuming that the +thing could be worked, what about the money? Like a chump, he had +told Elizabeth on the first day of his visit that he hadn't any +money except what he made out of his job as secretary of the club. +He couldn't suddenly spring five million dollars on her and +pretend that he had forgotten all about it till then. + +Of course, he could invent an imaginary uncle or something, and +massacre him during the honeymoon. Something in that. He pictured +the thing in his mind. Breakfast: Elizabeth doling out the +scrambled eggs. 'What's the matter, Bill? Why did you exclaim like +that? Is there some bad news in the letter you are reading?' + +'Oh, it's nothing--only my Uncle John's died and left me five +million dollars.' + +The scene worked out so well that his mind became a little above +itself. It suggested developments of serpentine craftiness. Why +not get Jerry Nichols to write him a letter about his Uncle John +and the five millions? Jerry liked doing that sort of thing. He +would do it like a shot, and chuck in a lot of legal words to make +it sound right. It began to be clear to Bill that any move he +took--except full confession, at which he jibbed--was going to +involve Jerry Nichols as an ally; and this discovery had a +soothing effect on him. It made him feel that the responsibility +had been shifted. He couldn't do anything till he had consulted +Jerry, so there was no use in worrying. And, being one of those +rare persons who can cease worrying instantly when they have +convinced themselves that it is useless, he dismissed the entire +problem from his mind and returned to the more congenial +occupation of thinking of Elizabeth. + +It was a peculiar feature of his position that he found himself +unable to think of Elizabeth without thinking of Claire. He tried +to, but failed. Every virtue in Elizabeth seemed to call up the +recollection of a corresponding defect in Claire. It became almost +mathematical. Elizabeth was so straight on the level they called +it over here. Claire was a corkscrew among women. Elizabeth was +sunny and cheerful. Querulousness was Claire's besetting sin. +Elizabeth was such a pal. Claire had never been that. The effect +that Claire had always had on him was to deepen the conviction, +which never really left him, that he was a bit of an ass. +Elizabeth, on the other hand, bucked him up and made him feel as +if he really amounted to something. + +How different they were! Their very voices--Elizabeth had a sort +of quiet, soothing, pleasant voice, the kind of voice that somehow +suggested that she thought a lot of a chap without her having to +say it in so many words. Whereas Claire's voice--he had noticed it +right from the beginning--Claire's voice-- + +While he was trying to make clear to himself just what it was +about Claire's voice that he had not liked he was granted the +opportunity of analysing by means of direct observation its +failure to meet his vocal ideals, for at this moment it spoke +behind him. + +'Bill!' + +She was standing in the road, her head still covered with that +white, filmy something which had commended itself to Mr Pickering's +eyes. She was looking at him in a way that seemed somehow to strike +a note of appeal. She conveyed an atmosphere of softness and +repentance, a general suggestion of prodigal daughters revisiting +old homesteads. + +'We seem always to be meeting at gates, don't we?' she said, with +a faint smile. + +It was a deprecating smile, wistful. + +'Bill!' she said again, and stopped. She laid her left hand +lightly on the gate. Bill had a sort of impression that there was +some meaning behind this action; that, if he were less of a chump +than Nature had made him, he would at this point receive some sort +of a revelation. But, being as Nature had made him, he did not get +it. + +He was one of those men to whom a girl's left hand is simply a +girl's left hand, irrespective of whether it wears rings on its +third finger or not. + +This having become evident to Claire after a moment of silence, +she withdrew her hand in rather a disappointed way and prepared to +attack the situation from another angle. + +'Bill, I've come to say something to you.' + +Bill was looking at her curiously. He could not have believed +that, even after what had happened, he could face her with such +complete detachment; that she could so extraordinarily not matter. +He felt no resentment toward her. It was simply that she had gone +out of his life. + +'Bill, I've been a fool.' + +He made no reply to this for he could think of no reply that was +sufficiently polite. 'Yes?' sounded as if he meant to say that +that was just what he had expected. 'Really?' had a sarcastic +ring. He fell back on facial expression, to imply that he was +interested and that she might tell all. + +Claire looked away down the road and began to speak in a low, +quick voice: + +'I've been a fool all along. I lost you through being a fool. When +I saw you dancing with that girl in the restaurant I didn't stop +to think. I was angry. I was jealous. I ought to have trusted you, +but--Oh, well, I was a fool.' + +'My dear girl, you had a perfect right--' + +'I hadn't. I was an idiot. Bill, I've come to ask you if you can't +forgive me.' + +'I wish you wouldn't talk like that--there's nothing to forgive.' + +The look which Claire gave him in answer to this was meek and +affectionate, but inwardly she was wishing that she could bang his +head against the gate. His slowness was maddening. Long before +this he should have leaped into the road in order to fold her in +his arms. Her voice shook with the effort she had to make to keep +it from sharpness. + +'I mean, is it too late? I mean, can you really forgive me? Oh, +Bill'--she stopped herself by the fraction of a second from adding +'you idiot'--'can't we be the same again to each other? Can't +we--pretend all this has never happened?' + +Exasperating as Bill's wooden failure to play the scene in the +spirit in which her imagination had conceived it was to Claire, +several excuses may be offered for him: He had opened the evening +with a shattering blow at his faith in woman. He had walked twenty +miles at a rapid pace. He had heard shots and found a corpse, and +carried the latter by the tail across country. Finally, he had had +the stunning shock of discovering that Elizabeth Boyd loved him. +He was not himself. He found a difficulty in concentrating. With +the result that, in answer to this appeal from a beautiful girl +whom he had once imagined that he loved, all he could find to say +was: 'How do you mean?' + +Claire, never an adept at patience, just succeeded in swallowing +the remark that sprang into her mind. It was incredible to her +that a man could exist who had so little intuition. She had not +anticipated the necessity of being compelled to put the substance +of her meaning in so many blunt words, but it seemed that only so +could she make him understand. + +'I mean, can't we be engaged again, Bill?' + +Bill's overtaxed brain turned one convulsive hand-spring, and came +to rest with a sense of having dislocated itself. This was too +much. This was not right. No fellow at the end of a hard evening +ought to have to grapple with this sort of thing. What on earth +did she mean, springing questions like that on him? How could they +be engaged? She was going to marry someone else, and so was he. +Something of these thoughts he managed to put into words: + +'But you're engaged to--' + +'I've broken my engagement with Mr Pickering.' + +'Great Scot! When?' + +'To-night. I found out his true character. He is cruel and +treacherous. Something happened--it may sound nothing to you, but +it gave me an insight into what he really was. Polly Wetherby had +a little monkey, and just because it bit Mr Pickering he shot it.' + +'Pickering!' + +'Yes. He wasn't the sort of man I should have expected to do a +mean, cruel thing like that. It sickened me. I gave him back his +ring then and there. Oh, what a relief it was! What a fool I was +ever to have got engaged to such a man.' + +Bill was puzzled. He was one of those simple men who take their +fellows on trust, but who, if once that trust is shattered, can +never recover it. Like most simple men, he was tenacious of ideas +when he got them, and the belief that Claire was playing fast and +loose was not lightly to be removed from his mind. He had found +her out during his self-communion that night, and he could never +believe her again. He had the feeling that there was something +behind what she was saying. He could not put his finger on the +clue, but that there was a clue he was certain. + +'I only got engaged to him out of pique. I was angry with you, +and--Well, that's how it happened.' + +Still Bill could not believe. It was plausible. It sounded true. +And yet some instinct told him that it was not true. And while he +waited, perplexed, Claire made a false step. + +The thing had been so close to the top of her mind ever since she +had come to the knowledge of it that it had been hard for her to +keep it down. Now she could keep it down no longer. + +'How wonderful about old Mr Nutcombe, Bill!' she said. + +A vast relief rolled over Bill. Despite his instinct, he had been +wavering. But now he understood. He had found the clue. + +'You got my letter, then?' + +'Yes; it was forwarded on from the theatre. I got it to-night.' + +Too late she realized what she had said and the construction that +an intelligent man would put on it. Then she reflected that Bill +was not an intelligent man. She shot a swift glance at him. To all +appearances he had suspected nothing. + +'It went all over the place,' she hurried on. 'The people at the +Portsmouth theatre sent it to the London office, who sent it home, +and mother mailed it on to me.' + +'I see.' + +There was a silence. Claire drew a step nearer. + +'Bill!' she said softly. + +Bill shut his eyes. The moment had come which he had dreaded. Not +even the thought that she was crooked, that she had been playing +with him, could make it any better. She was a woman and he was a +man. That was all that mattered, and nothing could alter it. + +'I'm sorry,' he said. 'It's impossible.' + +Claire stared at him in amazement. She had not been prepared for +this. He met her eyes, but every nerve in his body was protesting. + +'Bill!' + +'I'm sorry. + +'But, Bill!' + +He set his teeth. It was just as bad as he had thought it would +be. + +'But, Bill, I've explained. I've told you how--' + +'I know.' + +Claire's eyes opened wide. + +'I thought you loved me.' She came closer. She pulled at his +sleeve. Her voice took on a note of soft raillery. 'Don't be +absurd, Bill! You mustn't behave like a sulky schoolboy. It isn't +like you, this. You surely don't want me to humble myself more +than I have done.' She gave a little laugh. 'Why, Bill, I'm +proposing to you! I know I've treated you badly, but I've +explained why. You must be just enough to see that it wasn't +altogether my fault. I'm only human. And if I made a mistake I've +done all I can do to undo it. I--' + +'Claire, listen: I'm engaged!' + +She fell back. For the first time the sense of defeat came to her. +She had anticipated many things. She had looked for difficulties. +But she had not expected this. A feeling of cold fury surged over +her at the way fate had tricked her. She had gambled recklessly on +her power of fascination, and she had lost. + +Mr Pickering, at that moment brooding in solitude in the smoking-room +of Lady Wetherby's house, would have been relieved could he have +known how wistfully she was thinking of him. + +'You're engaged?' + +'Yes.' + +'Well!' She forced another laugh. 'How very--rapid of you! To +whom?' + +'To Elizabeth Boyd.' + +'I'm afraid I'm very ignorant, but who is Elizabeth Boyd? The +ornate lady you were dancing with at the restaurant?' + +'No!' + +'Who then?' + +'She is old Ira Nutcombe's niece. The money ought to have been +left to her. That was why I came over to America, to see if I +could do anything for her.' + +'And you're going to marry her? How very romantic--and convenient! +What an excellent arrangement for her. Which of you suggested it?' + +Bill drew in a deep breath. All this was, he supposed, +unavoidable, but it was not pleasant. + +Claire suddenly abandoned her pose of cool amusement. The fire +behind it blazed through. + +'You fool!' she cried passionately. 'Are you blind? Can't you see +that this girl is simply after your money? A child could see it.' + +Bill looked at her steadily. + +'You're quite wrong. She doesn't know who I am.' + +'Doesn't know who you are? What do you mean? She must know by this +time that her uncle left his money to you.' + +'But she doesn't know that I am Lord Dawlish. I came to America +under another name. She knows me as Chalmers.' + +Claire was silent for a moment. + +'How did you get to know her?' she asked, more quietly. + +'I met her brother by chance in New York.' + +'By chance!' + +'Quite by chance. A man I knew in England lent me his rooms in New +York. He happened to be a friend of Boyd's. Boyd came to call on +him one night, and found me.' + +'Odd! Had your mutual friend been away from New York long?' + +'Some months.' + +'And in all that time Mr Boyd had not discovered that he had left. +They must have been great friends! What happened then?' + +'Boyd invited me down here.' + +'Down here?' + +'They live in this house.' + +'Is Miss Boyd the girl who keeps the bee-farm?' + +'She is.' + +Claire's eyes suddenly lit up. She began to speak in a louder +voice: + +'Bill, you're an infant, a perfect infant! Of course, she's after +your money. Do you really imagine for one instant that this +Elizabeth Boyd of yours and her brother don't know as well as I do +that you are really Lord Dawlish? I always thought you had a +trustful nature! You tell me the brother met you by chance. +Chance! And invited you down here. I bet he did! He knew his +business! And now you're going to marry the girl so that they will +get the money after all! Splendid! Oh, Bill, you're a wonderful, +wonderful creature! Your innocence is touching.' + +She swung round. + +'Good night,' she called over her shoulder. + +He could hear her laughing as she went down the road. + + + + +20 + + +In the smoking-room of Lady Wetherby's house, chewing the dead +stump of a once imposing cigar, Dudley Pickering sat alone with +his thoughts. He had been alone for half an hour now. Once Lord +Wetherby had looked in, to withdraw at once coldly, with the +expression of a groom who has found loathsome things in the +harness-room. Roscoe Sherriff, good, easy man, who could never +dislike people, no matter what they had done, had come for a while +to bear him company; but Mr Pickering's society was not for the +time being entertaining. He had answered with grunts the +Press-agent's kindly attempts at conversation, and the latter +had withdrawn to seek a more congenial audience. And now Mr +Pickering was alone, talking things over with his subconscious +self. + +A man's subconscious self is not the ideal companion. It lurks for +the greater part of his life in some dark den of its own, hidden +away, and emerges only to taunt and deride and increase the misery +of a miserable hour. Mr Pickering's rare interviews with his +subconscious self had happened until now almost entirely in the +small hours of the night, when it had popped out to remind him, as +he lay sleepless, that all flesh was grass and that he was not +getting any younger. To-night, such had been the shock of the +evening's events, it came to him at a time which was usually his +happiest--the time that lay between dinner and bed. Mr Pickering +at that point of the day was generally feeling his best. But to-night +was different from the other nights of his life. + +One may picture Subconscious Self as a withered, cynical, +malicious person standing before Mr Pickering and regarding him +with an evil smile. There has been a pause, and now Subconscious +Self speaks again: + +'You will have to leave to-morrow. Couldn't possibly stop on after +what's happened. Now you see what comes of behaving like a boy.' + +Mr Pickering writhed. + +'Made a pretty considerable fool of yourself, didn't you, with +your revolvers and your hidings and your trailings? Too old for +that sort of thing, you know. You're getting on. Probably have a +touch of lumbago to-morrow. You must remember you aren't a +youngster. Got to take care of yourself. Next time you feel an +impulse to hide in shrubberies and take moonlight walks through +damp woods, perhaps you will listen to me.' + +Mr Pickering relit the stump of his cigar defiantly and smoked in +long gulps for a while. He was trying to persuade himself that all +this was untrue, but it was not easy. The cigar became uncomfortably +hot, and he threw it away. He fumbled in his waistcoat pocket and +produced a diamond ring, at which he looked pensively. + +'A pretty thing, is it not?' said Subconscious Self. + +Mr Pickering sighed. That moment when Claire had thrown the ring +at his feet and swept out of his life like an offended queen had +been the culminating blow of a night of blows, the knock-out +following on a series of minor punches. Subconscious Self seized +the opportunity to become offensive again. + +'You've lost her, all through your own silly fault,' it said. 'How +on earth you can have been such a perfect fool beats me. Running +round with a gun like a boy of fourteen! Well, it's done now and +it can't be mended. Countermand the order for cake, send a wire +putting off the wedding, dismiss the bridesmaids, tell the +organist he can stop practising "The Voice that Breathed O'er +Eden"--no wedding-bells for you! For Dudley Damfool Pickering, +Esquire, the lonely hearth for evermore! Little feet pattering +about the house? Not on your life! Childish voices sticking up the +old man for half a dollar to buy candy? No, sir! Not for D. +Bonehead Pickering, the amateur trailing arbutus!' + +Subconscious Self may have had an undesirable way of expressing +itself, but there was no denying the truth of what it said. Its +words carried conviction. Mr Pickering replaced the ring in his +pocket, and, burying his head in his hands, groaned in bitterness +of spirit. + +He had lost her. He must face the fact. She had thrown him over. +Never now would she sit at his table, the brightest jewel of +Detroit's glittering social life. She would have made a stir in +Detroit. Now that city would never know her. Not that he was +worrying much about Detroit. He was worrying about himself. How +could he ever live without her? + +This mood of black depression endured for a while, and then Mr +Pickering suddenly became aware that Subconscious Self was +sneering at him. 'You're a wonder!' said Subconscious Self. + +'What do you mean?' + +'Why, trying to make yourself think that at the bottom of your +heart you aren't tickled to death that this has happened. You know +perfectly well that you're tremendously relieved that you haven't +got to marry the girl after all. You can fool everybody else, but +you can't fool me. You're delighted, man, delighted!' The mere +suggestion revolted Mr Pickering. He was on the point of indignant +denial, when quite abruptly there came home to him the suspicion +that the statement was not so preposterous after all. It seemed +incredible and indecent that such a thing should be, but he could +not deny, now that it was put to him point-blank in this way, that +a certain sense of relief was beginning to mingle itself with his +gloom. It was shocking to realize, but--yes, he actually was +feeling as if he had escaped from something which he had dreaded. +Half an hour ago there had been no suspicion of such an emotion +among the many which had occupied his attention, but now he +perceived it clearly. Half an hour ago he had felt like Lucifer +hurled from heaven. Now, though how that train of thought had +started he could not have said, he was distinctly conscious of the +silver lining. Subconscious Self began to drive the thing home. + +'Be honest with yourself,' it said. 'You aren't often. No man is. +Look at the matter absolutely fairly. You know perfectly well that +the mere idea of marriage has always scared you. You hate making +yourself conspicuous in public. Think what it would be like, +standing up there in front of all the world and getting married. +And then--afterwards! Why on earth do you think that you would +have been happy with this girl? What do you know about her except +that she is a beauty? I grant you she's that, but are you aware of +the infinitesimal part looks play in married life? My dear chap, +better is it for a man that he marry a sympathetic gargoyle than a +Venus with a streak of hardness in her. You know--and you would +admit it if you were honest with yourself--that this girl is hard. +She's got a chilled-steel soul. + +'If you wanted to marry some one--and there's no earthly reason +why you should, for your life's perfectly full and happy with your +work--this is the last girl you ought to marry. You're a middle-aged +man. You're set. You like life to jog along at a peaceful walk. +This girl wants it to be a fox-trot. You've got habits which +you have had for a dozen years. I ask you, is she the sort of girl +to be content to be a stepmother to a middle-aged man's habits? Of +course, if you were really in love with her, if she were your +mate, and all that sort of thing, you would take a pleasure in +making yourself over to suit her requirements. But you aren't in +love with her. You are simply caught by her looks. I tell you, you +ought to look on that moment when she gave you back your ring as +the luckiest moment of your life. You ought to make a sort of +anniversary of it. You ought to endow a hospital or something out +of pure gratitude. I don't know how long you're going to live--if +you act like a grown-up man instead of a boy and keep out of woods +and shrubberies at night you may live for ever--but you will never +have a greater bit of luck than the one that happened to you +to-night.' + +Mr Pickering was convinced. His spirits soared. Marriage! What was +marriage? Slavery, not to be endured by your man of spirit. Look +at all the unhappy marriages you saw everywhere. Besides, you had +only to recall some of the novels and plays of recent years to get +the right angle on marriage. According to the novelists and +playwrights, shrewd fellows who knew what was what, if you talked +to your wife about your business she said you had no soul; if you +didn't, she said you didn't think enough of her to let her share +your life. If you gave her expensive presents and an unlimited +credit account, she complained that you looked on her as a mere +doll; and if you didn't, she called you a screw. That was +marriage. If it didn't get you with the left jab, it landed on you +with the right upper-cut. None of that sort of thing for Dudley +Pickering. + +'You're absolutely right,' he said, enthusiastically. 'Funny I +never looked at it that way before.' + +Somebody was turning the door-handle. He hoped it was Roscoe +Sherriff. He had been rather dull the last time Sherriff had +looked in. He would be quite different now. He would be gay and +sparkling. He remembered two good stories he would like to tell +Sherriff. + +The door opened and Claire came in. There was a silence. She stood +looking at him in a way that puzzled Mr Pickering. If it had not +been for her attitude at their last meeting and the manner in +which she had broken that last meeting up, he would have said that +her look seemed somehow to strike a note of appeal. There was +something soft and repentant about her. She suggested, it seemed +to Mr Pickering, the prodigal daughter revisiting the old +homestead. + +'Dudley!' + +She smiled a faint smile, a wistful, deprecating smile. She was +looking lovelier than ever. Her face glowed with a wonderful +colour and her eyes were very bright. Mr Pickering met her gaze, +and strange things began to happen to his mind, that mind which a +moment before had thought so clearly and established so definite a +point of view. + +What a gelatine-backboned thing is man, who prides himself on his +clear reason and becomes as wet blotting-paper at one glance from +bright eyes! A moment before Mr Pickering had thought out the +whole subject of woman and marriage in a few bold flashes of his +capable brain, and thanked Providence that he was not as those men +who take unto themselves wives to their undoing. Now in an instant +he had lost that iron outlook. Reason was temporarily out of +business. He was slipping. + +'Dudley!' + +For a space Subconscious Self thrust itself forward. + +'Look out! Be careful!' it warned. + +Mr Pickering ignored it. He was watching, fascinated, the glow on +Claire's face, her shining eyes. + +'Dudley, I want to speak to you.' + +'Tell her you can only be seen by appointment! Escape! Bolt!' + +Mr Pickering did not bolt. Claire came towards him, still smiling +that pathetic smile. A thrill permeated Mr Pickering's entire one +hundred and ninety-seven pounds, trickling down his spine like hot +water and coming out at the soles of his feet. He had forgotten +now that he had ever sneered at marriage. It seemed to him now +that there was nothing in life to be compared with that beatific +state, and that bachelors were mere wild asses of the desert. + +Claire came and sat down on the arm of his chair. He moved +convulsively, but he stayed where he was. + +'Fool!' said Subconscious Self. + +Claire took hold of his hand and patted it. He quivered, but +remained. + +'Ass!' hissed Subconscious Self. + +Claire stopped patting his hand and began to stroke it. Mr +Pickering breathed heavily. + +'Dudley, dear,' said Claire, softly, 'I've been an awful fool, and +I'm dreadful, dreadful sorry, and you're going to be the nicest, +kindest, sweetest man on earth and tell me you've forgiven me. +Aren't you?' + +Mr Pickering's lips moved silently. Claire kissed the thinning +summit of his head. There was a pause. + +'Where is it?' she asked. + +Mr Pickering started. + +'Eh?' + +'Where is it? Where did you put it? The ring, silly!' + +Mr Pickering became aware that Subconscious Self was addressing +him. The occasion was tense, and Subconscious Self did not mince +its words. + +'You poor, maudlin, sentimental, doddering chunk of imbecility,' +it said; 'are there no limits to your insanity? After all I said +to you just now, are you deliberately going to start the old +idiocy all over again?' + +'She's so beautiful!' pleaded Mr Pickering. 'Look at her eyes!' + +'Ass! Don't you remember what I said about beauty?' + +'Yes, I know, but--' + +'She's as hard as nails.' + +'I'm sure you're wrong.' + +'I'm not wrong.' + +'But she loves me.' + +'Forget it!' + +Claire jogged his shoulders. + +'Dudley, dear, what are you sitting there dreaming for? Where did +you put the ring?' + +Mr Pickering fumbled for it, located it, produced it. Claire +examined it fondly. + +'Did she throw it at him and nearly break his heart!' she said. + +'Bolt!' urged Subconscious Self. 'Fly! Go to Japan!' + +Mr Pickering did not go to Japan. He was staring worshippingly at +Claire. With rapturous gaze he noted the grey glory of her eyes, +the delicate curve of her cheek, the grace of her neck. He had no +time to listen to pessimistic warnings from any Gloomy Gus of a +Subconscious Self. He was ashamed that he had ever even for a +moment allowed himself to be persuaded that Claire was not all +that was perfect. No more doubts and hesitations for Dudley +Pickering. He was under the influence. + +'There!' said Claire, and slipped the ring on her finger. + +She kissed the top of his head once more. + +'So there we are!' she said. + +'There we are!' gurgled the infatuated Dudley. + +'Happy now?' + +'Ur-r!' + +'Then kiss me.' + +Mr Pickering kissed her. + +'Dudley, darling,' said Claire, 'we're going to be awfully, +awfully happy, aren't we?' + +'You bet we are!' said Mr Pickering. + +Subconscious Self said nothing, being beyond speech. + + + + +21 + + +For some minutes after Claire had left him Bill remained where he +was, motionless. He felt physically incapable of moving. All the +strength that was in him he was using to throw off the insidious +poison of her parting speech, and it became plainer to him with +each succeeding moment that he would have need of strength. + +It is part of the general irony of things that in life's crises a +man's good qualities are often the ones that help him least, if +indeed they do not actually turn treacherously and fight against +him. It was so with Bill. Modesty, if one may trust to the verdict +of the mass of mankind, is a good quality. It sweetens the soul +and makes for a kindly understanding of one's fellows. But +arrogance would have served Bill better now. It was his fatal +habit of self-depreciation that was making Claire's words so +specious as he stood there trying to cast them from his mind. Who +was he, after all, that he should imagine that he had won on his +personal merits a girl like Elizabeth Boyd? + +He had the not very common type of mind that perceives the merit +in others more readily than their faults, and in himself the +faults more readily than the merit. Time and the society of a +great number of men of different ranks and natures had rid him of +the outer symbol of this type of mind, which is shyness, but it +had left him still unconvinced that he amounted to anything very +much as an individual. + +This was the thought that met him every time he tried to persuade +himself that what Claire had said was ridiculous, the mere parting +shaft of an angry woman. With this thought as an ally her words +took on a plausibility hard to withstand. Plausible! That was the +devil of it. By no effort could he blind himself to the fact that +they were that. In the light of Claire's insinuations what had +seemed coincidences took on a more sinister character. It had +seemed to him an odd and lucky chance that Nutty Boyd should have +come to the rooms which he was occupying that night, seeking a +companion. Had it been chance? Even at the time he had thought it +strange that, on the strength of a single evening spent together, +Nutty should have invited a total stranger to make an indefinite +visit to his home. Had there been design behind the invitation? + +Bill began to walk slowly to the house. He felt tired and unhappy. +He meant to go to bed and try to sleep away these wretched doubts +and questionings. Daylight would bring relief. + +As he reached the open front door he caught the sound of voices, +and paused for an instant, almost unconsciously, to place them. +They came from one of the rooms upstairs. It was Nutty speaking +now, and it was impossible for Bill not to hear what he said, for +Nutty had abandoned his customary drawl in favour of a high, +excited tone. + +'Of course, you hate him and all that,' said Nutty; 'but after all +you will be getting five million dollars that ought to have come +to--' + +That was all that Bill heard, for he had stumbled across the hall +and was in his room, sitting on the bed and staring into the +darkness with burning eyes. The door banged behind him. + +So it was true! + +There came a knock at the door. It was repeated. The handle +turned. + +'Is that you, Bill?' + +It was Elizabeth's voice. He could just see her, framed in the +doorway. + +'Bill!' + +His throat was dry. He swallowed, and found that he could speak. + +'Yes?' + +'Did you just come in?' + +'Yes.' + +'Then--you heard?' + +'Yes.' + +There was a long silence. Then the door closed gently and he heard +her go upstairs. + + + + +22 + + +When Bill woke next morning it was ten o'clock; and his first +emotion, on a day that was to be crowded with emotions of various +kinds, was one of shame. The desire to do the fitting thing is +innate in man, and it struck Bill, as he hurried through his +toilet, that he must be a shallow, coarse-fibred sort of person, +lacking in the finer feelings, not to have passed a sleepless +night. There was something revolting in the thought that, in +circumstances which would have made sleep an impossibility for +most men, he had slept like a log. He did not do himself the +justice to recollect that he had had a singularly strenuous day, +and that it is Nature's business, which she performs quietly and +unromantically, to send sleep to tired men regardless of their +private feelings; and it was in a mood of dissatisfaction with the +quality of his soul that he left his room. + +He had a general feeling that he was not much of a chap and that +when he died--which he trusted would be shortly--the world would +be well rid of him. He felt humble and depressed and hopeless. + +Elizabeth met him in the passage. At the age of eleven or +thereabouts women acquire a poise and an ability to handle +difficult situations which a man, if he is lucky, manages to +achieve somewhere in the later seventies. Except for a pallor +strange to her face and a drawn look about her eyes, there was +nothing to show that all was not for the best with Elizabeth in a +best of all possible worlds. If she did not look jaunty, she at +least looked composed. She greeted Bill with a smile. + +'I didn't wake you. I thought I would let you sleep on.' + +The words had the effect of lending an additional clarity and +firmness of outline to the picture of himself which Bill had +already drawn in his mind--of a soulless creature sunk in hoggish +slumber. + +'We've had breakfast. Nutty has gone for a walk. Isn't he +wonderful nowadays? I've kept your breakfast warm for you.' + +Bill protested. He might be capable of sleep, but he was not going +to sink to food. + +'Not for me, thanks,' he said, hollowly. + +'Come along.' + +'Honestly--' + +'Come along.' + +He followed her meekly. How grimly practical women were! They let +nothing interfere with the essentials of life. It seemed all +wrong. Nevertheless, he breakfasted well and gratefully, Elizabeth +watching him in silence across the table. + +'Finished?' + +'Yes, thanks.' + +She hesitated for a moment. + +'Well, Bill, I've slept on it. Things are in rather a muddle, +aren't they? I think I had better begin by explaining what led up +to those words you heard Nutty say last night. Won't you smoke?' + +'No, thanks.' + +'You'll feel better if you do.' + +'I couldn't.' + +A bee had flown in through the open window. She followed it with +her eye as it blundered about the room. It flew out again into the +sunshine. She turned to Bill again. + +'They were supposed to be words of consolation,' she said. + +Bill said nothing. + +'Nutty, you see, has his own peculiar way of looking at things, +and it didn't occur to him that I might have promised to marry you +because I loved you. He took it for granted that I had done it to +save the Boyd home. He has been very anxious from the first that I +should marry you. I think that that must have been why he asked +you down here. He found out in New York, you know, who you were. +Someone you met at supper recognized you, and told Nutty. So, as +far as that is concerned, the girl you were speaking to at the +gate last night was right.' + +He started. 'You heard her?' + +'I couldn't help it. She meant me to hear. She was raising her +voice quite unnecessarily if she did not mean to include me in the +conversation. I had gone in to find Nutty, and he was out, and I +was coming back to you. That's how I was there. You didn't see me +because your back was turned. She saw me.' + +Bill met her eyes. 'You don't ask who she was?' + +'It doesn't matter who she was. It's what she said that matters. +She said that we knew you were Lord Dawlish.' + +'Did you know?' + +'Nutty told me two or three days ago.' Her voice shook and a flush +came into her face. 'You probably won't believe it, but the news +made absolutely no difference to me one way or the other. I had +always imagined Lord Dawlish as a treacherous, adventurer sort of +man, because I couldn't see how a man who was not like that could +have persuaded Uncle Ira to leave him his money. But after knowing +you even for this short time, I knew you were quite the opposite of +that, and I remembered that the first thing you had done on coming +into the money had been to offer me half, so the information that +you were the Lord Dawlish whom I had been hating did not affect me. +And the fact that you were rich and I was poor did not affect me +either. I loved you, and that was all I cared about. If all this had +not happened everything would have been all right. But, you see, +nine-tenths of what that girl said to you was so perfectly true that +it is humanly impossible for you not to believe the other tenth, +which wasn't. And then, to clinch it, you hear Nutty consoling me. +That brings me back to Nutty.' + +'I--' + +'Let me tell you about Nutty first. I said that he had always been +anxious that I should marry you. Something happened last night to +increase his anxiety. I have often wondered how he managed to get +enough money to enable him to spend three days in New York, and +last night he told me. He came in just after I had got back to the +house after leaving you and that girl, and he was very scared. It +seems that when the letter from the London lawyer came telling him +that he had been left a hundred dollars, he got the idea of +raising money on the strength of it. You know Nutty by this time, +so you won't be surprised at the way he went about it. He borrowed +a hundred dollars from the man at the chemist's on the security of +that letter, and then--I suppose it seemed so easy that it struck +him as a pity to let the opportunity slip--he did the same thing +with four other tradesmen. Nutty's so odd that I don't know even +now whether it ever occurred to him that he was obtaining money +under false pretences; but the poor tradesmen hadn't any doubt +about it at all. They compared notes and found what had happened, +and last night, while we were in the woods, one of them came here +and called Nutty a good many names and threatened him with +imprisonment. + +'You can imagine how delighted Nutty was when I came in and told +him that I was engaged to you. In his curious way, he took it for +granted that I had heard about his financial operations, and was +doing it entirely for his sake, to get him out of his fix. And +while I was trying to put him right on that point he began to +console me. You see, Nutty looks on you as the enemy of the +family, and it didn't strike him that it was possible that I +didn't look on you in that light too. So, after being delighted +for a while, he very sweetly thought that he ought to cheer me up +and point out some of the compensations of marriage with you. +And--Well, that was what you heard. There you have the full +explanation. You can't possibly believe it.' + +She broke off and began to drum her fingers on the table. And as +she did so there came to Bill a sudden relief from all the doubts +and black thoughts that had tortured him. Elizabeth was straight. +Whatever appearances might seem to suggest, nothing could convince +him that she was playing an underhand game. It was as if something +evil had gone out of him. He felt lighter, cleaner. He could +breathe. + +'I do believe it,' he said. 'I believe every word you say.' + +She shook her head. + +'You can't in the face of the evidence.' + +'I believe it.' + +'No. You may persuade yourself for the moment that you do, but +after a while you will have to go by the evidence. You won't be +able to help yourself. You haven't realized what a crushing thing +evidence is. You have to go by it against your will. You see, +evidence is the only guide. You don't know that I am speaking the +truth; you just feel it. You're trusting your heart and not your +head. The head must win in the end. You might go on believing for +a time, but sooner or later you would be bound to begin to doubt +and worry and torment yourself. You couldn't fight against the +evidence, when once your instinct--or whatever it is that tells +you that I am speaking the truth--had begun to weaken. And it +would weaken. Think what it would have to be fighting all the +time. Think of the case your intelligence would be making out, day +after day, till it crushed you. It's impossible that you could +keep yourself from docketing the evidence and arranging it and +absorbing it. Think! Consider what you know are actual facts! +Nutty invites you down here, knowing that you are Lord Dawlish. +All you know about my attitude towards Lord Dawlish is what I told +you on the first morning of your visit. I told you I hated him. +Yet, knowing you are Lord Dawlish, I become engaged to you. +Directly afterwards you hear Nutty consoling me as if I were +marrying you against my will. Isn't that an absolutely fair +statement of what has happened? How could you go on believing me +with all that against you?' + +'I know you're straight. You couldn't do anything crooked.' + +'The evidence proves that I did.' + +'I don't care.' + +'Not now.' + +'Never.' + +She shook her head. + +'It's dear of you, Bill, but you're promising an impossibility. +And just because it's impossible, and because I love you too much +to face what would be bound to happen, I'm going to send you +away.' + +'Send me away!' + +'Yes. It's going to hurt. You don't know how it's going to hurt, +Bill; but it's the only thing to do. I love you too much to live +with you for the rest of my life wondering all the time whether +you still believed or whether the weight of the evidence had +crushed out that tiny little spark of intuition which is all that +makes you believe me now. You could never know the truth for +certain, you see--that's the horror of it; and sometimes you would +be able to make yourself believe, but more often, in spite of all +you could do, you would doubt. It would poison both our lives. +Little things would happen, insignificant in themselves, which +would become tremendously important just because they added a +little bit more to the doubt which you would never be able to get +rid of. + +'When we had quarrels--which we should, as we are both human--they +wouldn't be over and done with in an hour. They would stick in +your mind and rankle, because, you see, they might be proofs that +I didn't really love you. And then when I seemed happy with you, +you would wonder if I was acting. I know all this sounds morbid +and exaggerated, but it isn't. What have you got to go on, as +regards me? What do you really know of me? If something like this +had happened after we had been married half a dozen years and +really knew each other, we could laugh at it. But we are +strangers. We came together and loved each other because there was +something in each of us which attracted the other. We took that +little something as a foundation and built on it. But what has +happened has knocked away our poor little foundation. That's all. +We don't really know anything at all about each other for certain. +It's just guesswork.' + +She broke off and looked at the clock. + +'I had better be packing if you're to catch the train.' + +He gave a rueful laugh. + +'You're throwing me out!' + +'Yes, I am. I want you to go while I am strong enough to let you +go.' + +'If you really feel like that, why send me away?' + +'How do you know I really feel like that? How do you know that I +am not pretending to feel like that as part of a carefully-prepared +plan?' + +He made an impatient gesture. + +'Yes, I know,' she said. 'You think I am going out of my way to +manufacture unnecessary complications. I'm not; I'm simply looking +ahead. If I were trying to trap you for the sake of your money, +could I play a stronger card than by seeming anxious to give you +up? If I were to give in now, sooner or later that suspicion would +come to you. You would drive it away. You might drive it away a +hundred times. But you couldn't kill it. In the end it would beat +you.' + +He shrugged his shoulders helplessly. + +'I can't argue.' + +'Nor can I. I can only put very badly things which I know are +true. Come and pack.' + +'I'll do it. Don't you bother.' + +'Nonsense! No man knows how to pack properly.' + +He followed her to his room, pulled out his suitcase, the symbol +of the end of all things, watched her as she flitted about, the +sun shining on her hair as she passed and repassed the window. She +was picking things up, folding them, packing them. Bill looked on +with an aching sense of desolation. It was all so friendly, so +intimate, so exactly as it would have been if she were his wife. +It seemed to him needlessly cruel that she should be playing on +this note of domesticity at the moment when she was barring for +ever the door between him and happiness. He rebelled helplessly +against the attitude she had taken. He had not thought it all out, +as she had done. It was folly, insanity, ruining their two lives +like this for a scruple. + +Once again he was to encounter that practical strain in the +feminine mind which jars upon a man in trouble. She was holding +something in her hand and looking at it with concern. + +'Why didn't you tell me?' she said. 'Your socks are in an awful +state, poor boy!' + +He had the feeling of having been hit by something. A man has not +a woman's gift of being able to transfer his mind at will from +sorrow to socks. + +'Like sieves!' She sighed. A troubled frown wrinkled her forehead. +'Men are so helpless! Oh, dear, I'm sure you don't pay any +attention to anything important. I don't believe you ever bother +your head about keeping warm in winter and not getting your feet +wet. And now I shan't be able to look after you!' + +Bill's voice broke. He felt himself trembling. + +'Elizabeth!' + +She was kneeling on the floor, her head bent over the suitcase. +She looked up and met his eyes. + +'It's no use, Bill, dear. I must. It's the only way.' + +The sense of the nearness of the end broke down the numbness +which held him. + +'Elizabeth! It's so utterly absurd. It's just--chucking everything +away!' + +She was silent for a moment. + +'Bill, dear, I haven't said anything about it before but don't you +see that there's my side to be considered too? I only showed you +that you could never possibly know that I loved you. How am I to +know that you really love me?' + +He had moved a step towards her. He drew back, chilled. + +'I can't do more than tell you,' he said. + +'You can't. And there you have put in two words just what I've +been trying to make clear all the time. Don't you see that that's +the terrible thing about life, that nobody can do more than tell +anybody anything? Life's nothing but words, words, words; and how +are we to know when words are true? How am I to know that you +didn't ask me to marry you out of sheer pity and an exaggerated +sense of justice?' + +He stared at her. + +'That,' he said, 'is absolutely ridiculous!' + +'Why? Look at it as I should look at it later on, when whatever it +is inside me that tell me it's ridiculous now had died. Just at +this moment, while we're talking here, there's something stronger +than reason which tells me you really do love me. But can't you +understand that that won't last? It's like a candle burning on a +rock with the tide coming up all round it. It's burning brightly +enough now, and we can see the truth by the light of it. But the +tide will put it out, and then we shall have nothing left to see +by. There's a great black sea of suspicion and doubt creeping up +to swamp the little spark of intuition inside us. + +'I will tell you what would happen to me if I didn't send you +away. Remember I heard what that girl was saying last night. +Remember that you hated the thought of depriving me of Uncle Ira's +money so much that your first act was to try to get me to accept +half of it. The quixotic thing is the first that it occurs to you +to do, because you're like that, because you're the straightest, +whitest man I've ever known or shall know. Could anything be more +likely, looking at it as I should later on, than that you should +have hit on the idea of marrying me as the only way of undoing the +wrong you thought you had done me? I've been foolish about +obligations all my life. I've a sort of morbid pride that hates +the thought of owing anything to anybody, of getting anything that +I have not earned. By and by, if I were to marry you, a little +rotten speck of doubt would begin to eat its way farther and +farther into me. It would be the same with you. We should react on +each other. We should be watching each other, testing each other, +trying each other out all the time. It would be horrible, +horrible!' + +He started to speak; then, borne down by the hopelessness of it, +stopped. Elizabeth stood up. They did not look at each other. He +strapped the suitcase and picked it up. The end of all things was +at hand. + +'Better to end it all cleanly, Bill,' she said, in a low voice. +'It will hurt less.' + +He did not speak. + +'I'll come down to the gate with you.' + +They walked in silence down the drive. The air was heavy with the torpor +of late summer. The sun beat down on them, turning her hair to burnished +gold. They reached the gate. + +'Good-bye, Bill, dear.' + +He took her hand dully. + +'Good-bye,' he said. + +Elizabeth stood at the gate, watching. He swung down the road with +long strides. At the bend he turned and for a moment stood there, +as if waiting for her to make some sign. Then he fell into his +stride again and was gone. Elizabeth leaned on the gate. Her face +was twisted, and she clutched the warm wood as if it gave her +strength. + +The grounds were very empty. The spirit of loneliness brooded on +them. Elizabeth walked slowly back to the house. Nutty was coming +towards her from the orchard. + +'Halloa!' said Nutty. + +He was cheerful and debonair. His little eyes were alight with +contentment. He hummed a tune. + +'Where's Dawlish?' he said. + +'He has gone.' + +Nutty's tune failed in the middle of a bar. Something in his +sister's voice startled him. The glow of contentment gave way to a +look of alarm. + +'Gone? How do you mean--gone? You don't mean--gone?' + +'Yes.' + +'Gone away?' + +'Gone away.' + +They had reached the house before he spoke again. + +'You don't mean--gone away?' + +'Yes.' + +'Do you mean--gone away?' + +'Yes.' + +'You aren't going to marry him?' + +'No.' + +The world stood still. The noise of the crickets and all the +little sounds of summer smote on Nutty's ear in one discordant +shriek. + +'Oh, gosh!' he exclaimed, faintly, and collapsed on the front +steps like a jelly-fish. + + + + +23 + + +The spectacle of Nutty in his anguish did not touch Elizabeth. +Normally a kind-hearted girl, she was not in the least sorry for +him. She had even taken a bitter pleasure and found a momentary +relief in loosing the thunderbolt which had smitten him down. Even +if it has to manufacture it, misery loves company. She watched +Nutty with a cold and uninterested eye as he opened his mouth +feebly, shut it again and reopened it; and then when it became +apparent that these manoeuvres were about to result in speech, she +left him and walked quickly down the drive again. She had the +feeling that if Nutty were to begin to ask her questions--and he +had the aspect of one who is about to ask a thousand--she would +break down. She wanted solitude and movement, so she left Nutty +sitting and started for the gate. Presently she would go and do +things among the beehives; and after that, if that brought no +solace, she would go in and turn the house upside down and get +dusty and tired. Anything to occupy herself. + +Reaction had set in. She had known it would come, and had made +ready to fight against it, but she had underestimated the strength +of the enemy. It seemed to her, in those first minutes, that she +had done a mad thing; that all those arguments which she had used +were far-fetched and ridiculous. It was useless to tell herself +that she had thought the whole thing out clearly and had taken the +only course that could have been taken. With Bill's departure the +power to face the situation steadily had left her. All she could +think of was that she loved him and that she had sent him away. + +Why had he listened to her? Why hadn't he taken her in his arms +and told her not to be a little fool? Why did men ever listen to +women? If he had really loved her, would he have gone away? She +tormented herself with this last question for a while. She was +still tormenting herself with it when a melancholy voice broke in +on her meditations. + +'I can't believe it,' said the voice. She turned, to perceive +Nutty drooping beside her. 'I simply can't believe it!' + +Elizabeth clenched her teeth. She was not in the mood for Nutty. + +'It will gradually sink in,' she said, unsympathetically. + +'Did you really send him away?' + +'I did.' + +'But what on earth for?' + +'Because it was the only thing to do.' + +A light shone on Nutty's darkness. + +'Oh, I say, did he hear what I said last night?' + +'He did hear what you said last night.' + +Nutty's mouth opened slowly. + +'Oh!' + +Elizabeth said nothing. + +'But you could have explained that.' + +'How?' + +'Oh, I don't know--somehow or other.' He appeared to think. 'But +you said it was you who sent him away.' + +'I did.' + +'Well, this beats me!' + +Elizabeth's strained patience reached the limit. + +'Nutty, please!' she said. 'Don't let's talk about it. It's all +over now.' + +'Yes, but--' + +'Nutty, don't! I can't stand it. I'm raw all over. I'm hating +myself. Please don't make it worse.' + +Nutty looked at her face, and decided not to make it worse. But +his anguish demanded some outlet. He found it in soliloquy. + +'Just like this for the rest of our lives!' he murmured, taking in +the farm-grounds and all that in them stood with one glassy stare +of misery. 'Nothing but ghastly bees and sweeping floors and +fetching water till we die of old age! That is, if those blighters +don't put me in jail for getting that money out of them. How was I +to know that it was obtaining money under false pretences? It +simply seemed to me a darned good way of collecting a few dollars. +I don't see how I'm ever going to pay them back, so I suppose it's +prison for me all right.' + +Elizabeth had been trying not to listen to him, but without +success. + +'I'll look after that, Nutty. I have a little money saved up, +enough to pay off what you owe. I was saving it for something +else, but never mind.' + +'Awfully good of you,' said Nutty, but his voice sounded almost +disappointed. He was in the frame of mind which resents alleviation +of its gloom. He would have preferred at that moment to be allowed to +round off the picture of the future which he was constructing in his +mind with a reel or two showing himself brooding in a cell. After +all, what difference did it make to a man of spacious tastes whether +he languished for the rest of his life in a jail or on a farm in the +country? Jail, indeed, was almost preferable. You knew where you were +when you were in prison. They didn't spring things on you. Whereas +life on a farm was nothing but one long succession of things sprung +on you. Now that Lord Dawlish had gone, he supposed that Elizabeth +would make him help her with the bees again. At this thought he +groaned aloud. When he contemplated a lifetime at Flack's, a lifetime +of bee-dodging and carpet-beating and water-lugging, and reflected +that, but for a few innocent words--words spoken, mark you, in a pure +spirit of kindliness and brotherly love with the object of putting a +bit of optimistic pep into sister!--he might have been in a position +to touch a millionaire brother-in-law for the needful whenever he +felt disposed, the iron entered into Nutty's soul. A rotten, rotten +world! + +Nutty had the sort of mind that moves in circles. After contemplating +for a time the rottenness of the world, he came back to the point +from which he had started. + +'I can't understand it,' he said. 'I can't believe it.' + +He kicked a small pebble that lay convenient to his foot. + +'You say you sent him away. If he had legged it on his own +account, because of what he heard me say, I could understand that. +But why should you--' + +It became evident to Elizabeth that, until some explanation of +this point was offered to him, Nutty would drift about in her +vicinity, moaning and shuffling his feet indefinitely. + +'I sent him away because I loved him,' she said, 'and because, +after what had happened, he could never be certain that I loved +him. Can you understand that?' + +'No,' said Nutty, frankly, 'I'm darned if I can! It sounds loony +to me.' + +'You can't see that it wouldn't have been fair to him to marry +him?' + +'No.' + +The doubts which she was trying to crush increased the violence of +their attack. It was not that she respected Nutty's judgement in +itself. It was that his view of what she had done chimed in so +neatly with her own. She longed for someone to tell her that she +had done right: someone who would bring back that feeling of +certainty which she had had during her talk with Bill. And in +these circumstances Nutty's attitude had more weight than on its +merits it deserved. She wished she could cry. She had a feeling +that if she once did that the right outlook would come back to +her. + +Nutty, meanwhile, had found another pebble and was kicking it +sombrely. He was beginning to perceive something of the intricate +and unfathomable workings of the feminine mind. He had always +looked on Elizabeth as an ordinary good fellow, a girl whose mind +worked in a more or less understandable way. She was not one of +those hysterical women you read about in the works of the +novelists; she was just a regular girl. And yet now, at the one +moment of her life when everything depended on her acting +sensibly, she had behaved in a way that made his head swim when he +thought of it. What it amounted to was that you simply couldn't +understand women. + +Into this tangle of silent sorrow came a hooting automobile. It +drew up at the gate and a man jumped out. + + + + +24 + + +The man who had alighted from the automobile was young and +cheerful. He wore a flannel suit of a gay blue and a straw hat +with a coloured ribbon, and he looked upon a world which, his +manner seemed to indicate, had been constructed according to his +own specifications through a single eyeglass. When he spoke it +became plain that his nationality was English. + +Nutty regarded his beaming countenance with a lowering hostility. +The indecency of anyone being cheerful at such a time struck him +forcibly. He would have liked mankind to have preserved till +further notice a hushed gloom. He glared at the young man. + +Elizabeth, such was her absorption in her thoughts, was not even +aware of his presence till he spoke to her. + +'I beg your pardon, is this Flack's?' + +She looked up and met that sunny eyeglass. + +'This is Flack's,' she said. + +'Thank you,' said the young man. + +The automobile, a stout, silent man at the helm, throbbed in the +nervous way automobiles have when standing still, suggesting +somehow that it were best to talk quick, as they can give you only +a few minutes before dashing on to keep some other appointment. +Either this or a natural volatility lent a breezy rapidity to the +visitor's speech. He looked at Elizabeth across the gate, which it +had not occurred to her to open, as if she were just what he had +expected her to be and a delight to his eyes, and burst into +speech. + +'My name's Nichols--J. Nichols. I expect you remember getting a +letter from me a week or two ago?' + +The name struck Elizabeth as familiar. But he had gone on to +identify himself before she could place it in her mind. + +'Lawyer, don't you know. Wrote you a letter telling you that your +Uncle Ira Nutcombe had left all his money to Lord Dawlish.' + +'Oh, yes,' said Elizabeth, and was about to invite him to pass the +barrier, when he began to speak again. + +'You know, I want to explain that letter. Wrote it on a sudden +impulse, don't you know. The more I have to do with the law, the +more it seems to hit me that a lawyer oughtn't to act on impulse. +At the moment, you see, it seemed to me the decent thing to do--put +you out of your misery, and so forth--stop your entertaining +hopes never to be realized, what? and all that sort of thing. You +see, it was like this: Bill--I mean Lord Dawlish--is a great pal +of mine, a dear old chap. You ought to know him. Well, being in +the know, you understand, through your uncle having deposited the +will with us, I gave Bill the tip directly I heard of Mr +Nutcombe's death. I sent him a telephone message to come to the +office, and I said: "Bill, old man, this old buster"--I beg your +pardon, this old gentleman--"has left you all his money." Quite +informal, don't you know, and at the same time, in the same +informal spirit, I wrote you the letter.' He dammed the torrent +for a moment. 'By the way, of course you are Miss Elizabeth Boyd, +what?' + +'Yes.' + +The young man seemed relieved. + +'I'm glad of that,' he said. 'Funny if you hadn't been. You'd have +wondered what on earth I was talking about.' + +In spite of her identity, this was precisely what Elizabeth was +doing. Her mind, still under a cloud, had been unable to +understand one word of Mr Nichols's discourse. Judging from his +appearance, which was that of a bewildered hosepipe or a snake +whose brain is being momentarily overtaxed, Nutty was in the same +difficulty. He had joined the group at the gate, abandoning the +pebble which he had been kicking in the background, and was now +leaning on the top bar, a picture of silent perplexity. + +'You see, the trouble is,' resumed the young man, 'my governor, +who's the head of the firm, is all for doing things according to +precedent. He loves red tape--wears it wrapped round him in winter +instead of flannel. He's all for doing things in the proper legal +way, which, as I dare say you know, takes months. And, meanwhile, +everybody's wondering what's happening and who has got the money, +and so on and so forth. I thought I would skip all that and let +you know right away exactly where you stood, so I wrote you that +letter. I don't think my temperament's quite suited to the law, +don't you know, and if he ever hears that I wrote you that letter +I have a notion that the governor will think so too. So I came +over here to ask you, if you don't mind, not to mention it when +you get in touch with the governor. I frankly admit that that +letter, written with the best intentions, was a bloomer.' + +With which manly admission the young man paused, and allowed the +rays of his eyeglass to play upon Elizabeth in silence. Elizabeth +tried to piece together what little she understood of his +monologue. + +'You mean that you want me not to tell your father that I got a +letter from you?' + +'Exactly that. And thanks very much for not saying "without +prejudice," or anything of that kind. The governor would have.' + +'But I don't understand. Why should you think that I should ever +mention anything to your father?' + +'Might slip out, you know, without your meaning it.' + +'But when? I shall never meet your father.' + +'You might quite easily. He might want to see you about the +money.' + +'The money?' + +The eyebrow above the eyeglass rose, surprised. + +'Haven't you had a letter from the governor?' + +'No.' + +The young man made a despairing gesture. + +'I took it for granted that it had come on the same boat that I +did. There you have the governor's methods! Couldn't want a better +example. I suppose some legal formality or other has cropped up +and laid him a stymie, and he's waiting to get round it. You +really mean he hasn't written? + +'Why, dash it,' said the young man, as one to whom all is +revealed, 'then you can't have understood a word of what I've been +saying!' + +For the first time Elizabeth found herself capable of smiling. She +liked this incoherent young man. + +'I haven't,' she said. + +'You don't know about the will?' + +'Only what you told me in your letter.' + +'Well, I'm hanged! Tell me--I hadn't the honour of knowing him +personally--was the late Mr Nutcombe's whole life as eccentric as +his will-making? It seems to me--' + +Nutty spoke. + +'Uncle Ira's middle name,' he said, 'was Bloomingdale. That,' he +proceeded, bitterly, 'is the frightful injustice of it all. I had +to suffer from it right along, and all I get, when it comes to a +finish, is a miserable hundred dollars. Uncle Ira insisted on +father and mother calling me Nutcombe; and whenever he got a new +craze I was always the one he worked it off on. You remember the +time he became a vegetarian, Elizabeth? Gosh!' Nutty brooded +coldly on the past. 'You remember the time he had it all worked +out that the end of the world was to come at five in the morning +one February? Made me stop up all night with him, reading Marcus +Aurelius! And the steam-heat turned off at twelve-thirty! I could +tell you a dozen things just as bad as that. He always picked on +me. And now I've gone through it all he leaves me a hundred +dollars!' + +Mr Nichols nodded sympathetically. + +'I should have imagined that he was rather like that. You know, of +course, why he made that will I wrote to you about, leaving all +his money to Bill Dawlish? Simply because Bill, who met him +golfing at a place in Cornwall in the off season, cured him of +slicing his approach-shots! I give you my word that was the only +reason. I'm sorry for old Bill, poor old chap. Such a good sort!' + +'He's all right,' said Nutty. 'But why you should be sorry for him +gets past me. A fellow who gets five million--' + +'But he doesn't, don't you see?' + +'How do you mean?' + +'Why, this other will puts him out of the running.' + +'Which other will?' + +'Why, the one I'm telling you about.' + +He looked from one to the other, apparently astonished at their +slowness of understanding. Then an idea occurred to him. + +'Why, now that I think of it, I never told you, did I? Yes, your +uncle made another will at the very last moment, leaving all he +possessed to Miss Boyd.' + +The dead silence in which his words were received stimulated him +to further speech. It occurred to him that, after that letter of +his, perhaps these people were wary about believing anything he +said. + +'It's absolutely true. It's the real, stable information this +time. I had it direct from the governor, who was there when he +made the will. He and the governor had had a row about something, +you know, and they made it up during those last days, and--Well, +apparently your uncle thought he had better celebrate it somehow, +so he made a new will. From what little I know of him, that was +the way he celebrated most things. I took it for granted the +governor would have written to you by this time. I expect you'll +hear by the next mail. You see, what brought me over was the idea +that when he wrote you might possibly take it into your heads to +mention having heard from me. You don't know my governor. If he +found out I had done that I should never hear the last of it. So I +said to him: "Gov'nor, I'm feeling a bit jaded. Been working too +hard, or something. I'll take a week or so off, if you can spare +me." He didn't object, so I whizzed over. Well, of course, I'm +awfully sorry for old Bill, but I congratulate you, Miss Boyd.' + +'What's the time?' said Elizabeth. + +Mr Nichols was surprised. He could not detect the connexion of +ideas. + +'It's about five to eleven,' he said, consulting his watch. + +The next moment he was even more surprised, for Elizabeth, making +nothing of the barrier of the gate, had rushed past him and was +even now climbing into his automobile. + +'Take me to the station, at once,' she was crying to the stout, +silent man, whom not even these surprising happenings had shaken +from his attitude of well-fed detachment. + +The stout man, ceasing to be silent, became interrogative. + +'Uh?' + +'Take me to the station. I must catch the eleven o'clock train.' + +The stout man was not a rapid thinker. He enveloped her in a +stodgy gaze. It was only too plain to Elizabeth that he was a man +who liked to digest one idea slowly before going on to absorb the +next. Jerry Nichols had told him to drive to Flack's. He had +driven to Flack's. Here he was at Flack's. Now this young woman +was telling him to drive to the station. It was a new idea, and he +bent himself to the Fletcherizing of it. + +'I'll give you ten dollars if you get me there by eleven,' shouted +Elizabeth. + +The car started as if it were some living thing that had had a +sharp instrument jabbed into it. Once or twice in his life it had +happened to the stout man to encounter an idea which he could +swallow at a gulp. This was one of them. + +Mr Nichols, following the car with a wondering eye, found that +Nutty was addressing him. + +'Is this really true?' said Nutty. + +'Absolute gospel.' + +A wild cry, a piercing whoop of pure joy, broke the summer +stillness. + +'Come and have a drink, old man!' babbled Nutty. 'This wants +celebrating!' His face fell. 'Oh, I was forgetting! I'm on the +wagon.' + +'On the wagon?' + +'Sworn off, you know. I'm never going to touch another drop as +long as I live. I began to see things--monkeys!' + +'I had a pal,' said Mr Nichols, sympathetically, 'who used to see +kangaroos.' + +Nutty seized him by the arm, hospitable though handicapped. + +'Come and have a bit of bread and butter, or a slice of cake or +something, and a glass of water. I want to tell you a lot more +about Uncle Ira, and I want to hear all about your end of it. Gee, +what a day!' + +'"The maddest, merriest of all the glad New Year,"' assented Mr +Nichols. 'A slice of that old 'eighty-seven cake. Just the thing!' + + + + +25 + + +Bill made his way along the swaying train to the smoking-car, +which was almost empty. It had come upon him overwhelmingly that +he needed tobacco. He was in the mood when a man must either smoke +or give up altogether the struggle with Fate. He lit his pipe, and +looked out of the window at Long Island racing past him. It was +only a blur to him. + +The conductor was asking for tickets. Bill showed his mechanically, +and the conductor passed on. Then he settled down once more to his +thoughts. He could not think coherently yet. His walk to the station +had been like a walk in a dream. He was conscious of a great, dull +pain that weighed on his mind, smothering it. The trees and houses +still moved past him in the same indistinguishable blur. + +He became aware that the conductor was standing beside him, saying +something about a ticket. He produced his once more, but this did +not seem to satisfy the conductor. To get rid of the man, who was +becoming a nuisance, he gave him his whole attention, as far as +that smothering weight would allow him to give his whole attention +to anything, and found that the man was saying strange things. He +thought that he could not have heard him correctly. + +'What?' he said. + +'Lady back there told me to collect her fare from you,' repeated +the conductor. 'Said you would pay.' + +Bill blinked. Either there was some mistake or trouble had turned +his brain. He pushed himself together with a supreme effort. + +'A lady said I would pay her fare?' + +'Yes.' + +'But--but why?' demanded Bill, feebly. + +The conductor seemed unwilling to go into first causes. + +'Search me!' he replied. + +'Pay her fare!' + +'Told me to collect it off the gentleman in the grey suit in the +smoking-car. You're the only one that's got a grey suit.' + +'There's some mistake.' + +'Not mine.' + +'What does she look like?' + +The conductor delved in his mind for adjectives. + +'Small,' he said, collecting them slowly. 'Brown eyes--' + +He desisted from his cataloguing at this point, for, with a loud +exclamation, Bill had dashed away. + +Two cars farther back he had dropped into the seat by Elizabeth +and was gurgling wordlessly. A massive lady, who had entered the +train at East Moriches in company with three children and a cat in +a basket, eyed him with a curiosity that she made no attempt to +conceal. Two girls in a neighbouring seat leaned forward eagerly +to hear all. This was because one of them had told the other that +Elizabeth was Mary Pickford. Her companion was sceptical, but +nevertheless obviously impressed. + +'My God!' said Bill. + +The massive lady told the three children sharply to look at their +picture-book. + +'Well, I'm hanged!' + +The mother of three said that if her offspring did not go right +along to the end of the car and look at the pretty trees trouble +must infallibly ensue. + +'Elizabeth!' At the sound of the name the two girls leaned back, +taking no further interest in the proceedings. + +'What are you doing here?' + +Elizabeth smiled, a shaky but encouraging smile. + +'I came after you, Bill.' + +'You've got no hat!' + +'I was in too much of a hurry to get one, and I gave all my money +to the man who drove the car. That's why I had to ask you to pay +my fare. You see, I'm not too proud to use your money after all.' + +'Then--' + +'Tickets please. One seventy-nine.' + +It was the indefatigable conductor, sensible of his duty to the +company and resolved that nothing should stand in the way of its +performance. Bill gave him five dollars and told him to keep the +change. The conductor saw eye to eye with him in this. + +'Bill! You gave him--' She gave a little shrug of her shoulders. +'Well, it's lucky you're going to marry a rich girl.' + +A look of the utmost determination overspread Bill's face. + +'I don't know what you're talking about. I'm going to marry you. +Now that I've got you again I'm not going to let you go. You can +use all the arguments you like, but it won't matter. I was a fool +ever to listen. If you try the same sort of thing again I'm just +going to pick you up and carry you off. I've been thinking it over +since I left you. My mind has been working absolutely clearly. +I've gone into the whole thing. It's perfect rot to take the +attitude you did. We know we love each other, and I'm not going to +listen to any talk about time making us doubt it. Time will only +make us love each other all the more.' + +'Why, Bill, this is eloquence.' + +'I feel eloquent.' + +The stout lady ceased to listen. They had lowered their voices and +she was hard of hearing. She consoled herself by taking up her +copy of Gingery Stories and burying herself in the hectic +adventures of a young millionaire and an artist's model. + +Elizabeth caught a fleeting glimpse of the cover. + +'I bet there's a story in there of a man named Harold who was too +proud to marry a girl, though he loved her, because she was rich +and he wasn't. You wouldn't be so silly as that, Bill, would you?' + +'It's the other way about with me.' + +'No, it's not. Bill, do you know a man named Nichols?' + +'Nichols?' + +'J. Nichols. He said he knew you. He said he had told you about +Uncle Ira leaving you his money.' + +'Jerry Nichols! How on earth--Oh, I remember. He wrote to you, +didn't he?' + +'He did. And this morning, just after you had left, he called.' + +'Jerry Nichols called?' + +'To tell me that Uncle Ira had made another will before he died, +leaving the money to me.' + +Their eyes met. + +'So I stole his car and caught the train,' said Elizabeth, simply. + +Bill was recovering slowly from the news. + +'But--this makes rather a difference, you know,' he said. + +'In what way?' + +'Well, what I mean to say is, you've got five million dollars and +I've got two thousand a year, don't you know, and so--' + +Elizabeth tapped him on the knee. + +'Bill, do you see what this is in my hand?' + +'Eh? What?' + +'It's a pin. And I'm going to dig it right into you wherever I +think it will hurt most, unless you stop being Harold at once. +I'll tell you exactly what you've got to do, and you needn't think +you're going to do anything else. When we get to New York, I first +borrow the money from you to buy a hat, and then we walk to the +City Hall, where you go to the window marked "Marriage Licences", +and buy one. It will cost you one dollar. You will give your +correct name and age and you will hear mine. It will come as a +shock to you to know that my second name is something awful! I've +kept it concealed all my life. After we've done that we shall go +to the only church that anybody could possibly be married in. It's +on Twenty-ninth Street, just round the corner from Fifth Avenue. +It's got a fountain playing in front of it, and it's a little bit +of heaven dumped right down in the middle of New York. And after +that--well, we might start looking about for that farm we've +talked of. We can get a good farm for five million dollars, and +leave something over to be doled out--cautiously--to Nutty. + +'And then all we have to do is to live happily ever after.' + +Something small and soft slipped itself into his hand, just as it +had done ages and ages ago in Lady Wetherby's wood. + +It stimulated Bill's conscience to one last remonstrance. + +'But, I say, you know--' + +'Well?' + +'This business of the money, you know. What I mean to say is--Ow!' + +He broke off, as a sharp pain manifested itself in the fleshy part +of his leg. Elizabeth was looking at him reprovingly, her weapon +poised for another onslaught. + +'I told you!' she said. + +'All right, I won't do it again.' + +'That's a good child. Bill, listen. Come closer and tell me all +sorts of nice things about myself till we get to Jamaica, and then +I'll tell you what I think of you. We've just passed Islip, so +you've plenty of time.' + + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Uneasy Money, by P. G. Wodehouse + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK UNEASY MONEY *** + +***** This file should be named 6684.txt or 6684.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/6/6/8/6684/ + +Produced by Suzanne L. Shell, Tom Allen, Charles Franks +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Uneasy Money + +Author: P.G. Wodehouse + +Release Date: October, 2004 [EBook #6684] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on January 12, 2003] +[Date last updated: February 27, 2005] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK UNEASY MONEY *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne L. Shell, Tom Allen, Charles Franks +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + + + + + +UNEASY MONEY + + + +By P. G. Wodehouse + + + + +1 + + +In a day in June, at the hour when London moves abroad in quest +of lunch, a young man stood at the entrance of the Bandolero +Restaurant looking earnestly up Shaftesbury Avenue--a large young +man in excellent condition, with a pleasant, good-humoured, brown, +clean-cut face. He paid no attention to the stream of humanity +that flowed past him. His mouth was set and his eyes wore a +serious, almost a wistful expression. He was frowning slightly. +One would have said that here was a man with a secret sorrow. + +William FitzWilliam Delamere Chalmers, Lord Dawlish, had no secret +sorrow. All that he was thinking of at that moment was the best +method of laying a golf ball dead in front of the Palace Theatre. +It was his habit to pass the time in mental golf when Claire +Fenwick was late in keeping her appointments with him. On one +occasion she had kept him waiting so long that he had been able to +do nine holes, starting at the Savoy Grill and finishing up near +Hammersmith. His was a simple mind, able to amuse itself with +simple things. + +As he stood there, gazing into the middle distance, an individual +of dishevelled aspect sidled up, a vagrant of almost the maximum +seediness, from whose midriff there protruded a trayful of a +strange welter of collar-studs, shoe-laces, rubber rings, +buttonhooks, and dying roosters. For some minutes he had been +eyeing his lordship appraisingly from the edge of the kerb, and +now, secure in the fact that there seemed to be no policeman in +the immediate vicinity, he anchored himself in front of him and +observed that he had a wife and four children at home, all +starving. + +This sort of thing was always happening to Lord Dawlish. There was +something about him, some atmosphere of unaffected kindliness, +that invited it. + +In these days when everything, from the shape of a man's hat to +his method of dealing with asparagus, is supposed to be an index +to character, it is possible to form some estimate of Lord Dawlish +from the fact that his vigil in front of the Bandolero had been +expensive even before the advent of the Benedict with the studs +and laces. In London, as in New York, there are spots where it is +unsafe for a man of yielding disposition to stand still, and the +corner of Shaftesbury Avenue and Piccadilly Circus is one of them. +Scrubby, impecunious men drift to and fro there, waiting for the +gods to provide something easy; and the prudent man, conscious of +the possession of loose change, whizzes through the danger zone at +his best speed, 'like one that on a lonesome road doth walk in +fear and dread, and having once turned round walks on, and turns +no more his head, because he knows a frightful fiend doth close +behind him tread.' In the seven minutes he had been waiting two +frightful fiends closed in on Lord Dawlish, requesting loans of +five shillings till Wednesday week and Saturday week respectively, +and he had parted with the money without a murmur. + +A further clue to his character is supplied by the fact that both +these needy persons seemed to know him intimately, and that each +called him Bill. All Lord Dawlish's friends called him Bill, and +he had a catholic list of them, ranging from men whose names were +in 'Debrett' to men whose names were on the notice boards of +obscure clubs in connexion with the non-payment of dues. He was +the sort of man one instinctively calls Bill. + +The anti-race-suicide enthusiast with the rubber rings did not call +Lord Dawlish Bill, but otherwise his manner was intimate. His +lordship's gaze being a little slow in returning from the middle +distance--for it was not a matter to be decided carelessly and +without thought, this problem of carrying the length of Shaftesbury +Avenue with a single brassy shot--he repeated the gossip from the +home. Lord Dawlish regarded him thoughtfully. + +'It could be done,' he said, 'but you'd want a bit of pull on it. +I'm sorry; I didn't catch what you said.' + +The other obliged with his remark for the third time, with +increased pathos, for constant repetition was making him almost +believe it himself. + +'Four starving children?' + +'Four, guv'nor, so help me!' + +'I suppose you don't get much time for golf then, what?' said Lord +Dawlish, sympathetically. + +It was precisely three days, said the man, mournfully inflating a +dying rooster, since his offspring had tasted bread. + +This did not touch Lord Dawlish deeply. He was not very fond of +bread. But it seemed to be troubling the poor fellow with the +studs a great deal, so, realizing that tastes differ and that +there is no accounting for them, he looked at him commiseratingly. + +'Of course, if they like bread, that makes it rather rotten, +doesn't it? What are you going to do about it?' + +'Buy a dying rooster, guv'nor,' he advised. 'Causes great fun and +laughter.' + +Lord Dawlish eyed the strange fowl without enthusiasm. + +'No,' he said, with a slight shudder. + +There was a pause. The situation had the appearance of being at a +deadlock. + +'I'll tell you what,' said Lord Dawlish, with the air of one who, +having pondered, has been rewarded with a great idea: 'the fact +is, I really don't want to buy anything. You seem by bad luck to +be stocked up with just the sort of things I wouldn't be seen dead +in a ditch with. I can't stand rubber rings, never could. I'm not +really keen on buttonhooks. And I don't want to hurt your +feelings, but I think that squeaking bird of yours is about the +beastliest thing I ever met. So suppose I give you a shilling and +call it square, what?' + +'Gawd bless yer, guv'nor.' + +'Not at all. You'll be able to get those children of yours some +bread--I expect you can get a lot of bread for a shilling. Do they +really like it? Rum kids!' + +And having concluded this delicate financial deal Lord Dawlish +turned, the movement bringing him face to face with a tall girl in +white. + +During the business talk which had just come to an end this girl +had been making her way up the side street which forms a short cut +between Coventry Street and the Bandolero, and several admirers of +feminine beauty who happened to be using the same route had almost +dislocated their necks looking after her. She was a strikingly +handsome girl. She was tall and willowy. Her eyes, shaded by her +hat, were large and grey. Her nose was small and straight, her +mouth, though somewhat hard, admirably shaped, and she carried +herself magnificently. One cannot blame the policeman on duty in +Leicester Square for remarking to a cabman as she passed that he +envied the bloke that that was going to meet. + +Bill Dawlish was this fortunate bloke, but, from the look of him +as he caught sight of her, one would have said that he did not +appreciate his luck. The fact of the matter was that he had only +just finished giving the father of the family his shilling, and he +was afraid that Claire had seen him doing it. For Claire, dear +girl, was apt to be unreasonable about these little generosities +of his. He cast a furtive glance behind him in the hope that the +disseminator of expiring roosters had vanished, but the man was +still at his elbow. Worse, he faced them, and in a hoarse but +carrying voice he was instructing Heaven to bless his benefactor. + +'Halloa, Claire darling!' said Lord Dawlish, with a sort of +sheepish breeziness. 'Here you are.' + +Claire was looking after the stud merchant, as, grasping his +wealth, he scuttled up the avenue. + +'Only a bob,' his lordship hastened to say. 'Rather a sad case, +don't you know. Squads of children at home demanding bread. Didn't +want much else, apparently, but were frightfully keen on bread.' + +'He has just gone into a public-house.' + +'He may have gone to telephone or something, what?' + +'I wish,' said Claire, fretfully, leading the way down the +grillroom stairs, 'that you wouldn't let all London sponge on you +like this. I keep telling you not to. I should have thought that +if any one needed to keep what little money he has got it was +you.' + +Certainly Lord Dawlish would have been more prudent not to have +parted with even eleven shillings, for he was not a rich man. +Indeed, with the single exception of the Earl of Wetherby, whose +finances were so irregular that he could not be said to possess an +income at all, he was the poorest man of his rank in the British +Isles. + +It was in the days of the Regency that the Dawlish coffers first +began to show signs of cracking under the strain, in the era of +the then celebrated Beau Dawlish. Nor were his successors backward +in the spending art. A breezy disregard for the preservation of +the pence was a family trait. Bill was at Cambridge when his +predecessor in the title, his Uncle Philip, was performing the +concluding exercises of the dissipation of the Dawlish doubloons, +a feat which he achieved so neatly that when he died there was +just enough cash to pay the doctors, and no more. Bill found +himself the possessor of that most ironical thing, a moneyless +title. He was then twenty-three. + +Until six months before, when he had become engaged to Claire +Fenwick, he had found nothing to quarrel with in his lot. He was +not the type to waste time in vain regrets. His tastes were +simple. As long as he could afford to belong to one or two golf +clubs and have something over for those small loans which, in +certain of the numerous circles in which he moved, were the +inevitable concomitant of popularity, he was satisfied. And this +modest ambition had been realized for him by a group of what he +was accustomed to refer to as decent old bucks, who had installed +him as secretary of that aristocratic and exclusive club, Brown's +in St James Street, at an annual salary of four hundred pounds. +With that wealth, added to free lodging at one of the best clubs +in London, perfect health, a steadily-diminishing golf handicap, +and a host of friends in every walk of life, Bill had felt that it +would be absurd not to be happy and contented. + +But Claire had made a difference. There was no question of that. +In the first place, she resolutely declined to marry him on four +hundred pounds a year. She scoffed at four hundred pounds a year. +To hear her talk, you would have supposed that she had been +brought up from the cradle to look on four hundred pounds a year +as small change to be disposed of in tips and cab fares. That in +itself would have been enough to sow doubts in Bill's mind as to +whether he had really got all the money that a reasonable man +needed; and Claire saw to it that these doubts sprouted, by +confining her conversation on the occasions of their meeting +almost entirely to the great theme of money, with its minor +sub-divisions of How to get it, Why don't you get it? and I'm sick +and tired of not having it. + +She developed this theme to-day, not only on the stairs leading to +the grillroom, but even after they had seated themselves at their +table. It was a relief to Bill when the arrival of the waiter with +food caused a break in the conversation and enabled him adroitly +to change the subject. + +'What have you been doing this morning?' he asked. + +'I went to see Maginnis at the theatre.' + +'Oh!' + +'I had a wire from him asking me to call. They want me to call. +They want me to take up Claudia Winslow's part in the number one +company.' + +'That's good.' + +'Why?' + +'Well--er--what I mean--well, isn't it? What I mean is, leading +part, and so forth.' + +'In a touring company?' + +'Yes, I see what you mean,' said Lord Dawlish, who didn't at all. +He thought rather highly of the number one companies that hailed +from the theatre of which Mr Maginnis was proprietor. + +'And anyhow, I ought to have had the part in the first place +instead of when the tour's half over. They are at Southampton this +week. He wants me to join them there and go on to Portsmouth with +them.' + +'You'll like Portsmouth.' + +'Why?' + +'Well--er--good links quite near.' + +'You know I don't play golf.' + +'Nor do you. I was forgetting. Still, it's quite a jolly place.' + +'It's a horrible place. I loathe it. I've half a mind not to go.' + +'Oh, I don't know.' + +'What do you mean?' + +Lord Dawlish was feeling a little sorry for himself. Whatever he +said seemed to be the wrong thing. This evidently was one of the +days on which Claire was not so sweet-tempered as on some other +days. It crossed his mind that of late these irritable moods of +hers had grown more frequent. It was not her fault, poor girl! he +told himself. She had rather a rotten time. + +It was always Lord Dawlish's habit on these occasions to make this +excuse for Claire. It was such a satisfactory excuse. It covered +everything. But, as a matter of fact, the rather rotten time which +she was having was not such a very rotten one. Reducing it to its +simplest terms, and forgetting for the moment that she was an +extraordinarily beautiful girl--which his lordship found it +impossible to do--all that it amounted to was that, her mother +having but a small income, and existence in the West Kensington +flat being consequently a trifle dull for one with a taste for the +luxuries of life, Claire had gone on the stage. By birth she +belonged to a class of which the female members are seldom called +upon to earn money at all, and that was one count of her grievance +against Fate. Another was that she had not done as well on the +stage as she had expected to do. When she became engaged to Bill +she had reached a point where she could obtain without difficulty +good parts in the touring companies of London successes, but +beyond that it seemed it was impossible for her to soar. It was +not, perhaps, a very exhilarating life, but, except to the eyes of +love, there was nothing tragic about it. It was the cumulative +effect of having a mother in reduced circumstances and grumbling +about it, of being compelled to work and grumbling about that, and +of achieving in her work only a semi-success and grumbling about +that also, that--backed by her looks--enabled Claire to give quite +a number of people, and Bill Dawlish in particular, the impression +that she was a modern martyr, only sustained by her indomitable +courage. + +So Bill, being requested in a peevish voice to explain what he +meant by saying, 'Oh, I don't know,' condoned the peevishness. He +then bent his mind to the task of trying to ascertain what he had +meant. + +'Well,' he said, 'what I mean is, if you don't show up won't it be +rather a jar for old friend Maginnis? Won't he be apt to foam at +the mouth a bit and stop giving you parts in his companies?' + +'I'm sick of trying to please Maginnis. What's the good? He never +gives me a chance in London. I'm sick of being always on tour. I'm +sick of everything.' + +'It's the heat,' said Lord Dawlish, most injudiciously. + +'It isn't the heat. It's you!' + +'Me? What have I done?' + +'It's what you've not done. Why can't you exert yourself and make +some money?' + +Lord Dawlish groaned a silent groan. By a devious route, but with +unfailing precision, they had come homing back to the same old +subject. + +'We have been engaged for six months, and there seems about as +much chance of our ever getting married as of--I can't think of +anything unlikely enough. We shall go on like this till we're +dead.' + +'But, my dear girl!' + +'I wish you wouldn't talk to me as if you were my grandfather. +What were you going to say?' + +'Only that we can get married this afternoon if you'll say the +word.' + +'Oh, don't let us go into all that again! I'm not going to marry +on four hundred a year and spend the rest of my life in a pokey +little flat on the edge of London. Why can't you make more money?' + +'I did have a dash at it, you know. I waylaid old Bodger--Colonel +Bodger, on the committee of the club, you know--and suggested over +a whisky-and-soda that the management of Brown's would be behaving +like sportsmen if they bumped my salary up a bit, and the old boy +nearly strangled himself trying to suck down Scotch and laugh at +the same time. I give you my word, he nearly expired on the +smoking-room floor. When he came to he said that he wished I +wouldn't spring my good things on him so suddenly, as he had a +weak heart. He said they were only paying me my present salary +because they liked me so much. You know, it was decent of the old +boy to say that.' + +'What is the good of being liked by the men in your club if you +won't make any use of it?' + +'How do you mean?' + +'There are endless things you could do. You could have got Mr +Breitstein elected at Brown's if you had liked. They wouldn't have +dreamed of blackballing any one proposed by a popular man like you, +and Mr Breitstein asked you personally to use your influence--you +told me so.' + +'But, my dear girl--I mean my darling--Breitstein! He's the limit! +He's the worst bounder in London.' + +'He's also one of the richest men in London. He would have done +anything for you. And you let him go! You insulted him!' + +'Insulted him?' + +'Didn't you send him an admission ticket to the Zoo?' + +'Oh, well, yes, I did do that. He thanked me and went the +following Sunday. Amazing how these rich Johnnies love getting +something for nothing. There was that old American I met down at +Marvis Bay last year--' + +'You threw away a wonderful chance of making all sorts of money. +Why, a single tip from Mr Breitstein would have made your +fortune.' + +'But, Claire, you know, there are some things--what I mean is, if +they like me at Brown's, it's awfully decent of them and all that, +but I couldn't take advantage of it to plant a fellow like +Breitstein on them. It wouldn't be playing the game.' + +'Oh, nonsense!' + +Lord Dawlish looked unhappy, but said nothing. This matter of Mr +Breitstein had been touched upon by Claire in previous conversations, +and it was a subject for which he had little liking. Experience had +taught him that none of the arguments which seemed so conclusive +to him--to wit, that the financier had on two occasions only just +escaped imprisonment for fraud, and, what was worse, made a +noise when he drank soup, like water running out of a bathtub--had +the least effect upon her. The only thing to do when Mr Breitstein +came up in the course of chitchat over the festive board was to +stay quiet until he blew over. + +'That old American you met at Marvis Bay,' said Claire, her memory +flitting back to the remark which she had interrupted; 'well, +there's another case. You could easily have got him to do +something for you.' + +'Claire, really!' said his goaded lordship, protestingly. 'How on +earth? I only met the man on the links.' + +'But you were very nice to him. You told me yourself that you +spent hours helping him to get rid of his slice, whatever that +is.' + +'We happened to be the only two down there at the time, so I was +as civil as I could manage. If you're marooned at a Cornish +seaside resort out of the season with a man, you can't spend your +time dodging him. And this man had a slice that fascinated me. I +felt at the time that it was my mission in life to cure him, so I +had a dash at it. But I don't see how on the strength of that I +could expect the old boy to adopt me. He probably forgot my +existence after I had left.' + +'You said you met him in London a month or two afterwards, and he +hadn't forgotten you.' + +'Well, yes, that's true. He was walking up the Haymarket and I was +walking down. I caught his eye, and he nodded and passed on. I +don't see how I could construe that into an invitation to go and +sit on his lap and help myself out of his pockets.' + +'You couldn't expect him to go out of his way to help you; but +probably if you had gone to him he would have done something.' + +'You haven't the pleasure of Mr Ira Nutcombe's acquaintance, +Claire, or you wouldn't talk like that. He wasn't the sort of man +you could get things out of. He didn't even tip the caddie. +Besides, can't you see what I mean? I couldn't trade on a chance +acquaintance of the golf links to--' + +'That is just what I complain of in you. You're too diffident.' + +'It isn't diffidence exactly. Talking of old Nutcombe, I was +speaking to Gates again the other night. He was telling me about +America. There's a lot of money to be made over there, you know, +and the committee owes me a holiday. They would give me a few +weeks off any time I liked. + +'What do you say? Shall I pop over and have a look round? I might +happen to drop into something. Gates was telling me about fellows +he knew who had dropped into things in New York.' + +'What's the good of putting yourself to all the trouble and +expense of going to America? You can easily make all you want in +London if you will only try. It isn't as if you had no chances. +You have more chances than almost any man in town. With your title +you could get all the directorships in the City that you wanted.' + +'Well, the fact is, this business of taking directorships has +never quite appealed to me. I don't know anything about the game, +and I should probably run up against some wildcat company. I can't +say I like the directorship wheeze much. It's the idea of knowing +that one's name would be being used as a bait. Every time I saw it +on a prospectus I should feel like a trout fly.' + +Claire bit her lip. + +'It's so exasperating!' she broke out. 'When I first told my +friends that I was engaged to Lord Dawlish they were tremendously +impressed. They took it for granted that you must have lots of +money. Now I have to keep explaining to them that the reason we +don't get married is that we can't afford to. I'm almost as badly +off as poor Polly Davis who was in the Heavenly Waltz Company with +me when she married that man, Lord Wetherby. A man with a title +has no right not to have money. It makes the whole thing farcical. + +'If I were in your place I should have tried a hundred things by +now, but you always have some silly objection. Why couldn't you, +for instance, have taken on the agency of that what-d'you-call-it +car?' + +'What I called it would have been nothing to what the poor devils +who bought it would have called it.' + +'You could have sold hundreds of them, and the company would have +given you any commission you asked. You know just the sort of +people they wanted to get in touch with.' + +'But, darling, how could I? Planting Breitstein on the club would +have been nothing compared with sowing these horrors about London. +I couldn't go about the place sticking my pals with a car which, I +give you my honest word, was stuck together with chewing-gum and +tied up with string.' + +'Why not? It would be their fault if they bought a car that wasn't +any good. Why should you have to worry once you had it sold?' + +It was not Lord Dawlish's lucky afternoon. All through lunch he +had been saying the wrong thing, and now he put the coping-stone +on his misdeeds. Of all the ways in which he could have answered +Claire's question he chose the worst. + +'Er--well,' he said, '_noblesse oblige_, don't you know, what?' + +For a moment Claire did not speak. Then she looked at her watch +and got up. + +'I must be going,' she said, coldly. + +'But you haven't had your coffee yet.' + +'I don't want any coffee.' + +'What's the matter, dear?' + +'Nothing is the matter. I have to go home and pack. I'm going to +Southampton this afternoon.' + +She began to move towards the door. Lord Dawlish, anxious to +follow, was detained by the fact that he had not yet paid the +bill. The production and settling of this took time, and when +finally he turned in search of Claire she was nowhere visible. + +Bounding upstairs on the swift feet of love, he reached the +street. She had gone. + + + + +2 + + +A grey sadness surged over Bill Dawlish. The sun hid itself behind +a cloud, the sky took on a leaden hue, and a chill wind blew +through the world. He scanned Shaftesbury Avenue with a jaundiced +eye, and thought that he had never seen a beastlier thoroughfare. +Piccadilly, however, into which he shortly dragged himself, was +even worse. It was full of men and women and other depressing +things. + +He pitied himself profoundly. It was a rotten world to live in, +this, where a fellow couldn't say _noblesse oblige_ without +upsetting the universe. Why shouldn't a fellow say _noblesse +oblige?_ Why--? At this juncture Lord Dawlish walked into a +lamp-post. + +The shock changed his mood. Gloom still obsessed him, but blended +now with remorse. He began to look at the matter from Claire's +viewpoint, and his pity switched from himself to her. In the first +place, the poor girl had rather a rotten time. Could she be blamed +for wanting him to make money? No. Yet whenever she made suggestions +as to how the thing was to be done, he snubbed her by saying +_noblesse oblige_. Naturally a refined and sensitive young girl +objected to having things like _noblesse oblige_ said to her. Where +was the sense in saying _noblesse oblige_? Such a confoundedly silly +thing to say. Only a perfect ass would spend his time rushing about +the place saying _noblesse oblige_ to people. + +'By Jove!' Lord Dawlish stopped in his stride. He disentangled +himself from a pedestrian who had rammed him on the back. 'I'll do +it!' + +He hailed a passing taxi and directed the driver to make for the +Pen and Ink Club. + +The decision at which Bill had arrived with such dramatic +suddenness in the middle of Piccadilly was the same at which some +centuries earlier Columbus had arrived in the privacy of his home. + +'Hang it!' said Bill to himself in the cab, 'I'll go to America!' +The exact words probably which Columbus had used, talking the +thing over with his wife. + +Bill's knowledge of the great republic across the sea was at this +period of his life a little sketchy. He knew that there had been +unpleasantness between England and the United States in +seventeen-something and again in eighteen-something, but that +things had eventually been straightened out by Miss Edna May +and her fellow missionaries of the Belle of New York Company, +since which time there had been no more trouble. Of American +cocktails he had a fair working knowledge, and he appreciated +ragtime. But of the other great American institutions he was +completely ignorant. + +He was on his way now to see Gates. Gates was a comparatively +recent addition to his list of friends, a New York newspaperman +who had come to England a few months before to act as his paper's +London correspondent. He was generally to be found at the Pen and +Ink Club, an institution affiliated with the New York Players, of +which he was a member. + +Gates was in. He had just finished lunch. + +'What's the trouble, Bill?' he inquired, when he had deposited his +lordship in a corner of the reading-room, which he had selected +because silence was compulsory there, thus rendering it possible +for two men to hear each other speak. 'What brings you charging in +here looking like the Soul's Awakening?' + +'I've had an idea, old man.' + +'Proceed. Continue.' + +'Oh! Well, you remember what you were saying about America?' + +'What was I saying about America?' + +'The other day, don't you remember? What a lot of money there was +to be made there and so forth.' + +'Well?' + +'I'm going there.' + +'To America?' + +'Yes.' + +'To make money?' + +'Rather.' + +Gates nodded--sadly, it seemed to Bill. He was rather a melancholy +young man, with a long face not unlike a pessimistic horse. + +'Gosh!' he said. + +Bill felt a little damped. By no mental juggling could he construe +'Gosh!' into an expression of enthusiastic approbation. + +Gates looked at Bill curiously. 'What's the idea?' he said. 'I +could have understood it if you had told me that you were going to +New York for pleasure, instructing your man Willoughby to see that +the trunks were jolly well packed and wiring to the skipper of +your yacht to meet you at Liverpool. But you seem to have sordid +motives. You talk about making money. What do you want with more +money?' + +'Why, I'm devilish hard up.' + +'Tenantry a bit slack with the rent?' said Gates sympathetically. + +Bill laughed. + +'My dear chap, I don't know what on earth you're talking about. +How much money do you think I've got? Four hundred pounds a year, +and no prospect of ever making more unless I sweat for it.' + +'What! I always thought you were rolling in money.' + +'What gave you that idea?' + +'You have a prosperous look. It's a funny thing about England. +I've known you four months, and I know men who know you; but I've +never heard a word about your finances. In New York we all wear +labels, stating our incomes and prospects in clear lettering. +Well, if it's like that it's different, of course. There certainly +is more money to be made in America than here. I don't quite see +what you think you're going to do when you get there, but that's +up to you. + +'There's no harm in giving the city a trial. Anyway, I can give +you a letter or two that might help.' + +'That's awfully good of you.' + +'You won't mind my alluding to you as my friend William Smith?' + +'William Smith?' + +'You can't travel under your own name if you are really serious +about getting a job. Mind you, if my letters lead to anything it +will probably be a situation as an earnest bill-clerk or an +effervescent office-boy, for Rockefeller and Carnegie and that lot +have swiped all the soft jobs. But if you go over as Lord Dawlish +you won't even get that. Lords are popular socially in America, +but are not used to any great extent in the office. If you try to +break in under your right name you'll get the glad hand and be +asked to stay here and there and play a good deal of golf and +dance quite a lot, but you won't get a job. A gentle smile will +greet all your pleadings that you be allowed to come in and save +the firm.' + +'I see.' + +'We may look on Smith as a necessity.' + +'Do you know, I'm not frightfully keen on the name Smith. Wouldn't +something else do?' + +'Sure. We aim to please. How would Jones suit you?' + +'The trouble is, you know, that if I took a name I wasn't used to +I might forget it.' + +'If you've the sort of mind that would forget Jones I doubt if +ever you'll be a captain of industry.' + +'Why not Chalmers?' + +'You think it easier to memorize than Jones?' + +'It used to be my name, you see, before I got the title.' + +'I see. All right. Chalmers then. When do you think of starting?' + +'To-morrow.' + +'You aren't losing much time. By the way, as you're going to New +York you might as well use my flat.' + +'It's awfully good of you.' + +'Not a bit. You would be doing me a favour. I had to leave at a +moment's notice, and I want to know what's been happening to the +place. I left some Japanese prints there, and my favourite +nightmare is that someone has broken in and sneaked them. Write +down the address--Forty-blank East Twenty-seventh Street. I'll +send you the key to Brown's to-night with those letters.' + +Bill walked up the Strand, glowing with energy. He made his way to +Cockspur Street to buy his ticket for New York. This done, he set +out to Brown's to arrange with the committee the details of his +departure. + +He reached Brown's at twenty minutes past two and left it again at +twenty-three minutes past; for, directly he entered, the hall +porter had handed him a telephone message. The telephone +attendants at London clubs are masters of suggestive brevity. The +one in the basement of Brown's had written on Bill's slip of paper +the words: '1 p.m. Will Lord Dawlish as soon as possible call upon +Mr Gerald Nichols at his office?' To this was appended a message +consisting of two words: 'Good news.' + +It was stimulating. The probability was that all Jerry Nichols +wanted to tell him was that he had received stable information +about some horse or had been given a box for the Empire, but for +all that it was stimulating. + +Bill looked at his watch. He could spare half an hour. He set out +at once for the offices of the eminent law firm of Nichols, +Nichols, Nichols, and Nichols, of which aggregation of Nicholses +his friend Jerry was the last and smallest. + + + + +3 + + +On a west-bound omnibus Claire Fenwick sat and raged silently in the +June sunshine. She was furious. What right had Lord Dawlish to look +down his nose and murmur '_Noblesse oblige_' when she asked him a +question, as if she had suggested that he should commit some crime? +It was the patronizing way he had said it that infuriated her, as if +he were a superior being of some kind, governed by codes which she +could not be expected to understand. Everybody nowadays did the sort +of things she suggested, so what was the good of looking shocked and +saying '_Noblesse oblige_'? + +The omnibus rolled on towards West Kensington. Claire hated the +place with the bitter hate of one who had read society novels, and +yearned for Grosvenor Square and butlers and a general atmosphere +of soft cushions and pink-shaded lights and maids to do one's +hair. She hated the cheap furniture of the little parlour, the +penetrating contralto of the cook singing hymns in the kitchen, +and the ubiquitousness of her small brother. He was only ten, and +small for his age, yet he appeared to have the power of being in +two rooms at the same time while making a nerve-racking noise in +another. + +It was Percy who greeted her to-day as she entered the flat. + +'Halloa, Claire! I say, Claire, there's a letter for you. It came +by the second post. I say, Claire, it's got an American stamp on +it. Can I have it, Claire? I haven't got one in my collection.' + +His sister regarded him broodingly. 'For goodness' sake don't +bellow like that!' she said. 'Of course, you can have the stamp. I +don't want it. Where is the letter?' + +Claire took the envelope from him, extracted the letter, and +handed back the envelope. Percy vanished into the dining-room with +a shattering squeal of pleasure. + +A voice spoke from behind a half-opened door-- + +'Is that you, Claire?' + +'Yes, mother; I've come back to pack. They want me to go to +Southampton to-night to take up Claudia Winslow's part.' + +'What train are you catching?' + +'The three-fifteen.' + +'You will have to hurry.' + +'I'm going to hurry,' said Claire, clenching her fists as two +simultaneous bursts of song, in different keys and varying tempos, +proceeded from the dining-room and kitchen. A girl has to be in a +sunnier mood than she was to bear up without wincing under the +infliction of a duet consisting of the Rock of Ages and Waiting +for the Robert E. Lee. Assuredly Claire proposed to hurry. She +meant to get her packing done in record time and escape from this +place. She went into her bedroom and began to throw things +untidily into her trunk. She had put the letter in her pocket +against a more favourable time for perusal. A glance had told her +that it was from her friend Polly, Countess of Wetherby: that +Polly Davis of whom she had spoken to Lord Dawlish. Polly Davis, +now married for better or for worse to that curious invertebrate +person, Algie Wetherby, was the only real friend Claire had made +on the stage. A sort of shivering gentility had kept her aloof +from the rest of her fellow-workers, but it took more than a +shivering gentility to stave off Polly. + +Claire had passed through the various stages of intimacy with her, +until on the occasion of Polly's marriage she had acted as her +bridesmaid. + +It was a long letter, too long to be read until she was at +leisure, and written in a straggling hand that made reading +difficult. She was mildly surprised that Polly should have written +her, for she had been back in America a year or more now, and this +was her first letter. Polly had a warm heart and did not forget +her friends, but she was not a good correspondent. + +The need of getting her things ready at once drove the letter from +Claire's mind. She was in the train on her way to Southampton +before she remembered its existence. + +It was dated from New York. + +MY DEAR OLD CLAIRE,--Is this really my first letter to you? Isn't +that awful! Gee! A lot's happened since I saw you last. I must +tell you first about my hit. Some hit! Claire, old girl, I own New +York. I daren't tell you what my salary is. You'd faint. + +I'm doing barefoot dancing. You know the sort of stuff. I started +it in vaudeville, and went so big that my agent shifted me to the +restaurants, and they have to call out the police reserves to +handle the crowd. You can't get a table at Reigelheimer's, which +is my pitch, unless you tip the head waiter a small fortune and +promise to mail him your clothes when you get home. I dance during +supper with nothing on my feet and not much anywhere else, and it +takes three vans to carry my salary to the bank. + +Of course, it's the title that does it: 'Lady Pauline Wetherby!' +Algie says it oughtn't to be that, because I'm not the daughter of +a duke, but I don't worry about that. It looks good, and that's +all that matters. You can't get away from the title. I was born in +Carbondale, Illinois, but that doesn't matter--I'm an English +countess, doing barefoot dancing to work off the mortgage on the +ancestral castle, and they eat me. Take it from me, Claire, I'm a +riot. + +Well, that's that. What I am really writing about is to tell you +that you have got to come over here. I've taken a house at +Brookport, on Long Island, for the summer. You can stay with me +till the fall, and then I can easily get you a good job in New +York. I have some pull these days, believe me. Not that you'll +need my help. The managers have only got to see you and they'll +all want you. I showed one of them that photograph you gave me, +and he went up in the air. They pay twice as big salaries over +here, you know, as in England, so come by the next boat. + +Claire, darling, you must come. I'm wretched. Algie has got my +goat the worst way. If you don't know what that means it means +that he's behaving like a perfect pig. I hardly know where to +begin. Well, it was this way: directly I made my hit my press +agent, a real bright man named Sherriff, got busy, of course. +Interviews, you know, and Advice to Young Girls in the evening +papers, and How I preserve my beauty, and all that sort of thing. +Well, one thing he made me do was to buy a snake and a monkey. +Roscoe Sherriff is crazy about animals as aids to advertisement. +He says an animal story is the thing he does best. So I bought +them. + +Algie kicked from the first. I ought to tell you that since we +left England he has taken up painting footling little pictures, +and has got the artistic temperament badly. All his life he's been +starting some new fool thing. When I first met him he prided +himself on having the finest collection of photographs of +race-horses in England. Then he got a craze for model engines. +After that he used to work the piano player till I nearly went +crazy. And now it's pictures. + +I don't mind his painting. It gives him something to do and keeps +him out of mischief. He has a studio down in Washington Square, +and is perfectly happy messing about there all day. + +Everything would be fine if he didn't think it necessary to tack +on the artistic temperament to his painting. He's developed the +idea that he has nerves and everything upsets them. + +Things came to a head this morning at breakfast. Clarence, my +snake, has the cutest way of climbing up the leg of the table and +looking at you pleadingly in the hope that you will give him +soft-boiled egg, which he adores. He did it this morning, and no +sooner had his head appeared above the table than Algie, with a kind +of sharp wail, struck him a violent blow on the nose with a teaspoon. +Then he turned to me, very pale, and said: 'Pauline, this must +end! The time has come to speak up. A nervous, highly-strung man +like myself should not, and must not, be called upon to live in a +house where he is constantly meeting snakes and monkeys without +warning. Choose between me and--' + +We had got as far as this when Eustace, the monkey, who I didn't +know was in the room at all, suddenly sprang on to his back. He is +very fond of Algie. + +Would you believe it? Algie walked straight out of the house, still +holding the teaspoon, and has not returned. Later in the day he +called me up on the phone and said that, though he realized that a +man's place was the home, he declined to cross the threshold again +until I had got rid of Eustace and Clarence. I tried to reason with +him. I told him that he ought to think himself lucky it wasn't +anything worse than a monkey and a snake, for the last person Roscoe +Sherriff handled, an emotional actress named Devenish, had to keep a +young puma. But he wouldn't listen, and the end of it was that he +rang off and I have not seen or heard of him since. + +I am broken-hearted. I won't give in, but I am having an awful time. +So, dearest Claire, do come over and help me. If you could possibly +sail by the _Atlantic_, leaving Southampton on the twenty-fourth of +this month, you would meet a friend of mine whom I think you would +like. His name is Dudley Pickering, and he made a fortune in +automobiles. I expect you have heard of the Pickering automobiles? + +Darling Claire, do come, or I know I shall weaken and yield to +Algie's outrageous demands, for, though I would like to hit him +with a brick, I love him dearly. + +Your affectionate +POLLY WETHERBY + +Claire sank back against the cushioned seat and her eyes filled +with tears of disappointment. Of all the things which would have +chimed in with her discontented mood at that moment a sudden +flight to America was the most alluring. Only one consideration +held her back--she had not the money for her fare. + +Polly might have thought of that, she reflected, bitterly. She +took the letter up again and saw that on the last page there was a +postscript-- + +PS.--I don't know how you are fixed for money, old girl, but if +things are the same with you as in the old days you can't be +rolling. So I have paid for a passage for you with the liner +people this side, and they have cabled their English office, so +you can sail whenever you want to. Come right over. + +An hour later the manager of the Southampton branch of the White +Star Line was dazzled by an apparition, a beautiful girl who burst +in upon him with flushed face and shining eyes, demanding a berth on +the steamship _Atlantic_ and talking about a Lady Wetherby. Ten +minutes later, her passage secured, Claire was walking to the local +theatre to inform those in charge of the destinies of The Girl and +the Artist number one company that they must look elsewhere for a +substitute for Miss Claudia Winslow. Then she went back to her hotel +to write a letter home, notifying her mother of her plans. + +She looked at her watch. It was six o'clock. Back in West +Kensington a rich smell of dinner would be floating through the +flat; the cook, watching the boiling cabbage, would be singing A +Few More Years Shall Roll; her mother would be sighing; and her +little brother Percy would be employed upon some juvenile +deviltry, the exact nature of which it was not possible to +conjecture, though one could be certain that it would be something +involving a deafening noise. + +Claire smiled a happy smile. + + + + +4 + + +The offices of Messrs Nichols, Nichols, Nichols, and Nichols were +in Lincoln's Inn Fields. The first Nichols had been dead since the +reign of King William the Fourth, the second since the jubilee +year of Queen Victoria. The remaining brace were Lord Dawlish's +friend Jerry and his father, a formidable old man who knew all the +shady secrets of all the noble families in England. + +Bill walked up the stairs and was shown into the room where Jerry, +when his father's eye was upon him, gave his daily imitation of a +young man labouring with diligence and enthusiasm at the law. His +father being at the moment out at lunch, the junior partner was +practising putts with an umbrella and a ball of paper. + +Jerry Nichols was not the typical lawyer. At Cambridge, where Bill +had first made his acquaintance, he had been notable for an +exuberance of which Lincoln's Inn Fields had not yet cured him. +There was an airy disregard for legal formalities about him which +exasperated his father, an attorney of the old school. He came to +the point, directly Bill entered the room, with a speed and levity +that would have appalled Nichols Senior, and must have caused the +other two Nicholses to revolve in their graves. + +'Halloa, Bill, old man,' he said, prodding him amiably in the +waistcoat with the ferrule of the umbrella. 'How's the boy? Fine! +So'm I. So you got my message? Wonderful invention, the +telephone.' + +'I've just come from the club.' + +'Take a chair.' + +'What's the matter?' + +Jerry Nichols thrust Bill into a chair and seated himself on the +table. + +'Now look here, Bill,' he said, 'this isn't the way we usually do +this sort of thing, and if the governor were here he would spend +an hour and a half rambling on about testators and beneficiary +legatees, and parties of the first part, and all that sort of rot. +But as he isn't here I want to know, as one pal to another, what +you've been doing to an old buster of the name of Nutcombe.' + +'Nutcombe?' + +'Nutcombe.' + +'Not Ira Nutcombe?' + +'Ira J. Nutcombe, formerly of Chicago, later of London, now a +disembodied spirit.' + +'Is he dead?' + +'Yes. And he's left you something like a million pounds.' + +Lord Dawlish looked at his watch. + +'Joking apart, Jerry, old man,' he said, 'what did you ask me to +come here for? The committee expects me to spend some of my time +at the club, and if I hang about here all the afternoon I shall +lose my job. Besides, I've got to get back to ask them for--' + +Jerry Nichols clutched his forehead with both hands, raised both +hands to heaven, and then, as if despairing of calming himself by +these means, picked up a paper-weight from the desk and hurled it +at a portrait of the founder of the firm, which hung over the +mantelpiece. He got down from the table and crossed the room to +inspect the ruins. + +Then, having taken a pair of scissors and cut the cord, he allowed +the portrait to fall to the floor. + +He rang the bell. The prematurely-aged office-boy, who was +undoubtedly destined to become a member of the firm some day, +answered the ring. + +'Perkins.' + +'Yes, sir?' + +'Inspect yonder _soufflee_.' + +'Yes, sir.' + +'You have observed it?' + +'Yes, sir.' + +'You are wondering how it got there?' + +'Yes, sir.' + +'I will tell you. You and I were in here, discussing certain legal +minutiae in the interests of the firm, when it suddenly fell. We +both saw it and were very much surprised and startled. I soothed +your nervous system by giving you this half-crown. The whole +incident was very painful. Can you remember all this to tell my +father when he comes in? I shall be out lunching then.' + +'Yes, sir.' + +'An admirable lad that,' said Jerry Nichols as the door closed. +'He has been here two years, and I have never heard him say +anything except "Yes, sir." He will go far. Well, now that I am +calmer let us return to your little matter. Honestly, Bill, you +make me sick. When I contemplate you the iron enters my soul. You +stand there talking about your tuppenny-ha'penny job as if it +mattered a cent whether you kept it or not. Can't you understand +plain English? Can't you realize that you can buy Brown's and turn +it into a moving-picture house if you like? You're a millionaire!' + +Bill's face expressed no emotion whatsoever. Outwardly he appeared +unmoved. Inwardly he was a riot of bewilderment, incapable of +speech. He stared at Jerry dumbly. + +'We've got the will in the old oak chest,' went on Jerry Nichols. +'I won't show it to you, partly because the governor has got the +key and he would have a fit if he knew that I was giving you early +information like this, and partly because you wouldn't understand +it. It is full of "whereases" and "peradventures" and "heretofores" +and similar swank, and there aren't any stops in it. It takes the legal +mind, like mine, to tackle wills. What it says, when you've peeled +off a few of the long words which they put in to make it more +interesting, is that old Nutcombe leaves you the money because +you are the only man who ever did him a disinterested kindness--and +what I want to get out of you is, what was the disinterested kindness? +Because I'm going straight out to do it to every elderly, rich-looking +man I can find till I pick a winner.' + +Lord Dawlish found speech. + +'Jerry, is this really true?' + +'Gospel.' + +'You aren't pulling my leg?' + +'Pulling your leg? Of course I'm not pulling your leg. What do you +take me for? I'm a dry, hard-headed lawyer. The firm of Nichols, +Nichols, Nichols, and Nichols doesn't go about pulling people's +legs!' + +'Good Lord!' + +'It appears from the will that you worked this disinterested gag, +whatever it was, at Marvis Bay no longer ago than last year. +Wherein you showed a lot of sense, for Ira J., having altered his +will in your favour, apparently had no time before he died to +alter it again in somebody else's, which he would most certainly +have done if he had lived long enough, for his chief recreation +seems to have been making his will. To my certain knowledge he has +made three in the last two years. I've seen them. He was one of +those confirmed will-makers. He got the habit at an early age, and +was never able to shake it off. Do you remember anything about the +man?' + +'It isn't possible!' + +'Anything's possible with a man cracked enough to make freak wills +and not cracked enough to have them disputed on the ground of +insanity. What did you do to him at Marvis Bay? Save him from +drowning?' + +'I cured him of slicing.' + +'You did what?' + +'He used to slice his approach shots. I cured him.' + +'The thing begins to hang together. A certain plausibility creeps +into it. The late Nutcombe was crazy about golf. The governor used +to play with him now and then at Walton Heath. It was the only +thing Nutcombe seemed to live for. That being so, if you got rid +of his slice for him it seems to me, that you earned your money. +The only point that occurs to me is, how does it affect your +amateur status? It looks to me as if you were now a pro.' + +'But, Jerry, it's absurd. All I did was to give him a tip or two. +We were the only men down there, as it was out of the season, and +that drew us together. And when I spotted this slice of his I just +gave him a bit of advice. I give you my word that was all. He +can't have left me a fortune on the strength of that!' + +'You don't tell the story right, Bill. I can guess what really +happened--to wit, that you gave up all your time to helping the +old fellow improve his game, regardless of the fact that it +completely ruined your holiday.' + +'Oh, no!' + +'It's no use sitting there saying "Oh, no!" I can see you at it. +The fact is, you're such an infernally good chap that something of +this sort was bound to happen to you sooner or later. I think +making you his heir was the only sensible thing old Nutcombe ever +did. In his place I'd have done the same.' + +'But he didn't even seem decently grateful at the time.' + +'Probably not. He was a queer old bird. He had a most almighty row +with the governor in this office only a month or two ago about +absolutely nothing. They disagreed about something trivial, and +old Nutcombe stalked out and never came in again. That's the sort +of old bird he was.' + +'Was he sane, do you think?' + +'Absolutely, for legal purposes. We have three opinions from leading +doctors--collected by him in case of accidents, I suppose--each of +which declares him perfectly sound from the collar upward. But a +man can be pretty far gone, you know, without being legally insane, +and old Nutcombe--well, suppose we call him whimsical. He seems to +have zigzagged between the normal and the eccentric. + +'His only surviving relatives appear to be a nephew and a niece. +The nephew dropped out of the running two years ago when his aunt, +old Nutcombe's wife, who had divorced old Nutcombe, left him her +money. This seems to have soured the old boy on the nephew, for in +the first of his wills that I've seen--you remember I told you I +had seen three--he leaves the niece the pile and the nephew only +gets twenty pounds. Well, so far there's nothing very eccentric +about old Nutcombe's proceedings. But wait! + +'Six months after he had made that will he came in here and made +another. This left twenty pounds to the nephew as before, but +nothing at all to the niece. Why, I don't know. There was nothing +in the will about her having done anything to offend him during +those six months, none of those nasty slams you see in wills about +"I bequeath to my only son John one shilling and sixpence. Now +perhaps he's sorry he married the cook." As far as I can make out +he changed his will just as he did when he left the money to you, +purely through some passing whim. Anyway, he did change it. He +left the pile to support the movement those people are running for +getting the Jews back to Palestine. + +'He didn't seem, on second thoughts, to feel that this was quite +such a brainy scheme as he had at first, and it wasn't long before +he came trotting back to tear up this second will and switch back +to the first one--the one leaving the money to the niece. That +restoration to sanity lasted till about a month ago, when he broke +loose once more and paid his final visit here to will you the +contents of his stocking. This morning I see he's dead after a +short illness, so you collect. Congratulations!' + +Lord Dawlish had listened to this speech in perfect silence. He now +rose and began to pace the room. He looked warm and uncomfortable. +His demeanour, in fact, was by no means the accepted demeanour of +the lucky heir. + +'This is awful!' he said. 'Good Lord, Jerry, it's frightful!' + +'Awful!--being left a million pounds?' + +'Yes, like this. I feel like a bally thief.' + +'Why on earth?' + +'If it hadn't been for me this girl--what's her name?' + +'Her name is Boyd--Elizabeth Boyd.' + +'She would have had the whole million if it hadn't been for me. +Have you told her yet?' + +'She's in America. I was writing her a letter just before you came +in--informal, you know, to put her out of her misery. If I had +waited for the governor to let her know in the usual course of red +tape we should never have got anywhere. Also one to the nephew, +telling him about his twenty pounds. I believe in humane treatment +on these occasions. The governor would write them a legal letter +with so many "hereinbefores" in it that they would get the idea +that they had been left the whole pile. I just send a cheery line +saying "It's no good, old top. Abandon hope," and they know just +where they are. Simple and considerate.' + +A glance at Bill's face moved him to further speech. + +'I don't see why you should worry, Bill. How, by any stretch of +the imagination, can you make out that you are to blame for this +Boyd girl's misfortune? It looks to me as if these eccentric wills +of old Nutcombe's came in cycles, as it were. Just as he was due +for another outbreak he happened to meet you. It's a moral +certainty that if he hadn't met you he would have left all his +money to a Home for Superannuated Caddies or a Fund for Supplying +the Deserving Poor with Niblicks. Why should you blame yourself?' + +'I don't blame myself. It isn't exactly that. But--but, well, what +would you feel like in my place?' + +'A two-year-old.' + +'Wouldn't you do anything?' + +'I certainly would. By my halidom, I would! I would spend that +money with a vim and speed that would make your respected +ancestor, the Beau, look like a village miser.' + +'You wouldn't--er--pop over to America and see whether something +couldn't be arranged?' + +'What!' + +'I mean--suppose you were popping in any case. Suppose you had +happened to buy a ticket for New York on to-morrow's boat, +wouldn't you try to get in touch with this girl when you got to +America, and see if you couldn't--er--fix up something?' + +Jerry Nichols looked at him in honest consternation. He had always +known that old Bill was a dear old ass, but he had never dreamed +that he was such an infernal old ass as this. + +'You aren't thinking of doing that?' he gasped. + +'Well, you see, it's a funny coincidence, but I was going to +America, anyhow, to-morrow. I don't see why I shouldn't try to fix +up something with this girl.' + +'What do you mean--fix up something? You don't suggest that you +should give the money up, do you?' + +'I don't know. Not exactly that, perhaps. How would it be if I +gave her half, what? Anyway, I should like to find out about her, +see if she's hard up, and so on. I should like to nose round, you +know, and--er--and so forth, don't you know. Where did you say the +girl lived?' + +'I didn't say, and I'm not sure that I shall. Honestly, Bill, you +mustn't be so quixotic.' + +'There's no harm in my nosing round, is there? Be a good chap and +give me the address.' + +'Well'--with misgivings--'Brookport, Long Island.' + +'Thanks.' + +'Bill, are you really going to make a fool of yourself?' + +'Not a bit of it, old chap. I'm just going to--er--' + +'To nose round?' + +'To nose round,' said Bill. + +Jerry Nichols accompanied his friend to the door, and once more +peace reigned in the offices of Nichols, Nichols, Nichols, and +Nichols. + +The time of a man who has at a moment's notice decided to leave +his native land for a sojourn on foreign soil is necessarily taken +up with a variety of occupations; and it was not till the +following afternoon, on the boat at Liverpool, that Bill had +leisure to write to Claire, giving her the news of what had +befallen him. He had booked his ticket by a Liverpool boat in +preference to one that sailed from Southampton because he had not +been sure how Claire would take the news of his sudden decision to +leave for America. There was the chance that she might ridicule or +condemn the scheme, and he preferred to get away without seeing +her. Now that he had received this astounding piece of news from +Jerry Nichols he was relieved that he had acted in this way. +Whatever Claire might have thought of the original scheme, there +was no doubt at all what she would think of his plan of seeking +out Elizabeth Boyd with a view to dividing the legacy with her. + +He was guarded in his letter. He mentioned no definite figures. He +wrote that Ira Nutcombe of whom they had spoken so often had most +surprisingly left him in his will a large sum of money, and eased +his conscience by telling himself that half of a million pounds +undeniably was a large sum of money. + +The addressing of the letter called for thought. She would have +left Southampton with the rest of the company before it could +arrive. Where was it that she said they were going next week? +Portsmouth, that was it. He addressed the letter Care of The Girl +and the Artist Company, to the King's Theatre, Portsmouth. + + + + +5 + + +The village of Brookport, Long Island, is a summer place. It +lives, like the mosquitoes that infest it, entirely on its summer +visitors. At the time of the death of Mr Ira Nutcombe, the only +all-the-year-round inhabitants were the butcher, the grocer, the +chemist, the other customary fauna of villages, and Miss Elizabeth +Boyd, who rented the ramshackle farm known locally as Flack's and +eked out a precarious livelihood by keeping bees. + +If you take down your _Encyclopaedia Britannica_, Volume III, +AUS to BIS, you will find that bees are a 'large and natural +family of the zoological order Hymenoptera, characterized by the +plumose form of many of their hairs, by the large size of the +basal segment of the foot ... and by the development of a "tongue" +for sucking liquid food,' the last of which peculiarities, it is +interesting to note, they shared with Claude Nutcombe Boyd, +Elizabeth's brother, who for quite a long time--till his money ran +out--had made liquid food almost his sole means of sustenance. +These things, however, are by the way. We are not such snobs as to +think better or worse of a bee because it can claim kinship with +the _Hymenoptera_ family, nor so ill-bred as to chaff it for +having large feet. The really interesting passage in the article +occurs later, where it says: 'The bee industry prospers greatly in +America.' + +This is one of those broad statements that invite challenge. +Elizabeth Boyd would have challenged it. She had not prospered +greatly. With considerable trouble she contrived to pay her way, +and that was all. + +Again referring to the 'Encyclopaedia,' we find the words: 'Before +undertaking the management of a modern apiary, the beekeeper +should possess a certain amount of aptitude for the pursuit.' This +was possibly the trouble with Elizabeth's venture, considered from +a commercial point of view. She loved bees, but she was not an +expert on them. She had started her apiary with a small capital, a +book of practical hints, and a second-hand queen, principally +because she was in need of some occupation that would enable her +to live in the country. It was the unfortunate condition of Claude +Nutcombe which made life in the country a necessity. At that time +he was spending the remains of the money left him by his aunt, and +Elizabeth had hardly settled down at Brookport and got her venture +under way when she found herself obliged to provide for Nutty a +combination of home and sanatorium. It had been the poor lad's +mistaken view that he could drink up all the alcoholic liquor in +America. + +It is a curious law of Nature that the most undeserving brothers +always have the best sisters. Thrifty, plodding young men, who get +up early, and do it now, and catch the employer's eye, and save +half their salaries, have sisters who never speak civilly to them +except when they want to borrow money. To the Claude Nutcombes of +the world are vouchsafed the Elizabeths. + +The great aim of Elizabeth's life was to make a new man of Nutty. +It was her hope that the quiet life and soothing air of Brookport, +with--unless you counted the money-in-the-slot musical box at the +store--its absence of the fiercer excitements, might in time pull +him together and unscramble his disordered nervous system. She +liked to listen of a morning to the sound of Nutty busy in the +next room with a broom and a dustpan, for in the simple lexicon of +Flack's there was no such word as 'help'. The privy purse would +not run to a maid. Elizabeth did the cooking and Claude Nutcombe +the housework. + +Several days after Claire Fenwick and Lord Dawlish, by different +routes, had sailed from England, Elizabeth Boyd sat up in bed and +shook her mane of hair from her eyes, yawning. Outside her window +the birds were singing, and a shaft of sunlight intruded itself +beneath the blind. But what definitely convinced her that it was +time to get up was the plaintive note of James, the cat, +patrolling the roof of the porch. An animal of regular habits, +James always called for breakfast at eight-thirty sharp. + +Elizabeth got out of bed, wrapped her small body in a pink kimono, +thrust her small feet into a pair of blue slippers, yawned again, +and went downstairs. Having taken last night's milk from the ice-box, +she went to the back door, and, having filled James's saucer, +stood on the grass beside it, sniffing the morning air. + +Elizabeth Boyd was twenty-one, but standing there with her hair +tumbling about her shoulders she might have been taken by a +not-too-close observer for a child. It was only when you saw her eyes +and the resolute tilt of the chin that you realized that she was a +young woman very well able to take care of herself in a difficult +world. Her hair was very fair, her eyes brown and very bright, and +the contrast was extraordinarily piquant. They were valiant eyes, +full of spirit; eyes, also, that saw the humour of things. And her +mouth was the mouth of one who laughs easily. Her chin, small like +the rest of her, was strong; and in the way she held herself there +was a boyish jauntiness. She looked--and was--a capable little +person. + +She stood besides James like a sentinel, watching over him as he +breakfasted. There was a puppy belonging to one of the neighbours +who sometimes lumbered over and stole James's milk, disposing of +it in greedy gulps while its rightful proprietor looked on with +piteous helplessness. Elizabeth was fond of the puppy, but her +sense of justice was keen and she was there to check this +brigandage. + +It was a perfect day, cloudless and still. There was peace in the +air. James, having finished his milk, began to wash himself. A +squirrel climbed cautiously down from a linden tree. From the +orchard came the murmur of many bees. + +Aesthetically Elizabeth was fond of still, cloudless days, but +experience had taught her to suspect them. As was the custom in +that locality, the water supply depended on a rickety windwheel. +It was with a dark foreboding that she returned to the kitchen and +turned on one of the taps. For perhaps three seconds a stream of +the dimension of a darning-needle emerged, then with a sad gurgle +the tap relapsed into a stolid inaction. There is no stolidity so +utter as that of a waterless tap. + +'Confound it!' said Elizabeth. + +She passed through the dining-room to the foot of the stairs. + +'Nutty!' + +There was no reply. + +'Nutty, my precious lamb!' + +Upstairs in the room next to her own a long, spare form began to +uncurl itself in bed; a face with a receding chin and a small +forehead raised itself reluctantly from the pillow, and Claude +Nutcombe Boyd signalized the fact that he was awake by scowling at +the morning sun and uttering an aggrieved groan. + +Alas, poor Nutty! This was he whom but yesterday Broadway had +known as the Speed Kid, on whom head-waiters had smiled and lesser +waiters fawned; whose snake-like form had nestled in so many a +front-row orchestra stall. + +Where were his lobster Newburgs now, his cold quarts that were +wont to set the table in a roar? + +Nutty Boyd conformed as nearly as a human being may to Euclid's +definition of a straight line. He was length without breadth. From +boyhood's early day he had sprouted like a weed, till now in the +middle twenties he gave startled strangers the conviction that it +only required a sharp gust of wind to snap him in half. Lying in +bed, he looked more like a length of hose-pipe than anything else. +While he was unwinding himself the door opened and Elizabeth came +into the room. + +'Good morning, Nutty!' + +'What's the time?' asked her brother, hollowly. + +'Getting on towards nine. It's a lovely day. The birds are +singing, the bees are buzzing, summer's in the air. It's one of +those beautiful, shiny, heavenly, gorgeous days.' + +A look of suspicion came into Nutty's eyes. Elizabeth was not +often as lyrical as this. + +'There's a catch somewhere,' he said. + +'Well, as a matter of fact,' said Elizabeth, carelessly, 'the +water's off again.' + +'Confound it!' + +'I said that. I'm afraid we aren't a very original family.' + +'What a ghastly place this is! Why can't you see old Flack and +make him mend that infernal wheel?' + +'I'm going to pounce on him and have another try directly I see +him. Meanwhile, darling Nutty, will you get some clothes on and go +round to the Smiths and ask them to lend us a pailful?' + +'Oh, gosh, it's over a mile!' + +'No, no, not more than three-quarters.' + +'Lugging a pail that weighs a ton! The last time I went there +their dog bit me.' + +'I expect that was because you slunk in all doubled up, and he got +suspicious. You should hold your head up and throw your chest out +and stride up as if you were a military friend of the family.' + +Self-pity lent Nutty eloquence. + +'For Heaven's sake! You drag me out of bed at some awful hour of +the morning when a rational person would just be turning in; you +send me across country to fetch pailfuls of water when I'm feeling +like a corpse; and on top of that you expect me to behave like a +drum-major!' + +'Dearest, you can wriggle on your tummy, if you like, so long as +you get the fluid. We must have water. I can't fetch it. I'm a +delicately-nurtured female.' + +'We ought to have a man to do these ghastly jobs.' + +'But we can't afford one. Just at present all I ask is to be able +to pay expenses. And, as a matter of fact, you ought to be very +thankful that you have got--' + +'A roof over my head? I know. You needn't keep rubbing it in.' + +Elizabeth flushed. + +'I wasn't going to say that at all. What a pig you are sometimes, +Nutty. As if I wasn't only too glad to have you here. What I was +going to say was that you ought to be very thankful that you have +got to draw water and hew wood--' + +A look of absolute alarm came into Nutty's pallid face. + +'You don't mean to say that you want some wood chopped?' + +'I was speaking figuratively. I meant hustle about and work in the +open air. The sort of life you are leading now is what millionaires +pay hundreds of dollars for at these physical-culture places. It +has been the making of you.' + +'I don't feel made.' + +'Your nerves are ever so much better.' + +'They aren't.' + +Elizabeth looked at him in alarm. + +'Oh, Nutty, you haven't been--seeing anything again, have you?' + +'Not seeing, dreaming. I've been dreaming about monkeys. Why +should I dream about monkeys if my nerves were all right?' + +'I often dream about all sorts of queer things.' + +'Have you ever dreamed that you were being chased up Broadway by a +chimpanzee in evening dress?' + +'Never mind, dear, you'll be quite all right again when you have +been living this life down here a little longer.' + +Nutty glared balefully at the ceiling. + +'What's that darned thing up there on the ceiling? It looks like a +hornet. How on earth do these things get into the house?' + +'We ought to have nettings. I am going to pounce on Mr Flack about +that too.' + +'Thank goodness this isn't going to last much longer. It's nearly +two weeks since Uncle Ira died. We ought to be hearing from the +lawyers any day now. There might be a letter this morning.' + +'Do you think he has left us his money?' + +'Do I? Why, what else could he do with it? We are his only +surviving relatives, aren't we? I've had to go through life with a +ghastly name like Nutcombe as a compliment to him, haven't I? I +wrote to him regularly at Christmas and on his birthday, didn't I? +Well, then! I have a feeling there will be a letter from the +lawyers to-day. I wish you would get dressed and go down to the +post-office while I'm fetching that infernal water. I can't think +why the fools haven't cabled. You would have supposed they would +have thought of that.' + +Elizabeth returned to her room to dress. She was conscious of a +feeling that nothing was quite perfect in this world. It would be +nice to have a great deal of money, for she had a scheme in her +mind which called for a large capital; but she was sorry that it +could come to her only through the death of her uncle, of whom, +despite his somewhat forbidding personality, she had always been +fond. She was also sorry that a large sum of money was coming to +Nutty at that particular point in his career, just when there +seemed the hope that the simple life might pull him together. She +knew Nutty too well not to be able to forecast his probable +behaviour under the influence of a sudden restoration of wealth. + +While these thoughts were passing through her mind she happened to +glance out of the window. Nutty was shambling through the garden +with his pail, a bowed, shuffling pillar of gloom. As Elizabeth +watched, he dropped the pail and lashed the air violently for a +while. From her knowledge of bees ('It is needful to remember that +bees resent outside interference and will resolutely defend +themselves,' _Encyc. Brit._, Vol. III, AUS to BIS) Elizabeth +deduced that one of her little pets was annoying him. This episode +concluded, Nutty resumed his pail and the journey, and at this +moment there appeared over the hedge the face of Mr John Prescott, +a neighbour. Mr Prescott, who had dismounted from a bicycle, +called to Nutty and waved something in the air. To a stranger the +performance would have been obscure, but Elizabeth understood it. +Mr Prescott was intimating that he had been down to the post-office +for his own letters and, as was his neighbourly custom on these +occasions, had brought back also letters for Flack's. + +Nutty foregathered with Mr Prescott and took the letters from him. +Mr Prescott disappeared. Nutty selected one of the letters and +opened it. Then, having stood perfectly still for some moments, he +suddenly turned and began to run towards the house. + +The mere fact that her brother, whose usual mode of progression +was a languid saunter, should be actually running, was enough to +tell Elizabeth that the letter which Nutty had read was from the +London lawyers. No other communication could have galvanized him +into such energy. Whether the contents of the letter were good or +bad it was impossible at that distance to say. But when she +reached the open air, just as Nutty charged up, she saw by his +face that it was anguish not joy that had spurred him on. He was +gasping and he bubbled unintelligible words. His little eyes +gleamed wildly. + +'Nutty, darling, what is it?' cried Elizabeth, every maternal +instinct in her aroused. + +He was thrusting a sheet of paper at her, a sheet of paper that +bore the superscription of Nichols, Nichols, Nichols, and Nichols, +with a London address. + +'Uncle Ira--' Nutty choked. 'Twenty pounds! He's left me twenty +pounds, and all the rest to a--to a man named Dawlish!' + +In silence Elizabeth took the letter. It was even as he had said. +A few moments before Elizabeth had been regretting the imminent +descent of wealth upon her brother. Now she was inconsistent +enough to boil with rage at the shattering blow which had befallen +him. That she, too, had lost her inheritance hardly occurred to +her. Her thoughts were all for Nutty. It did not need the sight of +him, gasping and gurgling before her, to tell her how overwhelming +was his disappointment. + +It was useless to be angry with the deceased Mr Nutcombe. He was +too shadowy a mark. Besides, he was dead. The whole current of her +wrath turned upon the supplanter, this Lord Dawlish. She pictured +him as a crafty adventurer, a wretched fortune-hunter. For some +reason or other she imagined him a sinister person with a black +moustache, a face thin and hawk-like, and unpleasant eyes. That +was the sort of man who would be likely to fasten his talons into +poor Uncle Ira. + +She had never hated any one in her life before, but as she stood +there at that moment she felt that she loathed and detested +William Lord Dawlish--unhappy, well-meaning Bill, who only a few +hours back had set foot on American soil in his desire to nose +round and see if something couldn't be arranged. + +Nutty fetched the water. Life is like that. There is nothing +clean-cut about it, no sense of form. Instead of being permitted +to concentrate his attention on his tragedy Nutty had to trudge +three-quarters of a mile, conciliate a bull-terrier, and trudge +back again carrying a heavy pail. It was as if one of the heroes +of Greek drama, in the middle of his big scene, had been asked to +run round the corner to a provision store. + +The exercise did not act as a restorative. The blow had been too +sudden, too overwhelming. Nutty's reason--such as it was--tottered +on its throne. Who was Lord Dawlish? What had he done to +ingratiate himself with Uncle Ira? By what insidious means, with +what devilish cunning, had he wormed his way into the old man's +favour? These were the questions that vexed Nutty's mind when he +was able to think at all coherently. + +Back at the farm Elizabeth cooked breakfast and awaited her +brother's return with a sinking heart. She was a soft-hearted +girl, easily distressed by the sight of suffering; and she was +aware that Nutty was scarcely of the type that masks its woes +behind a brave and cheerful smile. Her heart bled for Nutty. + +There was a weary step outside. Nutty entered, slopping water. One +glance at his face was enough to tell Elizabeth that she had +formed a too conservative estimate of his probable gloom. Without +a word he coiled his long form in a chair. There was silence in +the stricken house. + +'What's the time?' + +Elizabeth glanced at her watch. + +'Half-past nine.' + +'About now,' said Nutty, sepulchrally, 'the blighter is ringing +for his man to prepare his bally bath and lay out his gold-leaf +underwear. After that he will drive down to the bank and draw some +of our money.' + +The day passed wearily for Elizabeth. Nutty having the air of one +who is still engaged in picking up the pieces, she had not the +heart to ask him to play his customary part in the household +duties, so she washed the dishes and made the beds herself. After +that she attended to the bees. After that she cooked lunch. + +Nutty was not chatty at lunch. Having observed 'About now the +blighter is cursing the waiter for bringing the wrong brand of +champagne,' he relapsed into a silence which he did not again +break. + +Elizabeth was busy again in the afternoon. At four o'clock, +feeling tired out, she went to her room to lie down until the next +of her cycle of domestic duties should come round. + +It was late when she came downstairs, for she had fallen asleep. +The sun had gone down. Bees were winging their way heavily back to +the hives with their honey. She went out into the grounds to try +to find Nutty. There had been no signs of him in the house. There +were no signs of him about the grounds. It was not like him to +have taken a walk, but it seemed the only possibility. She went +back to the house to wait. Eight o'clock came, and nine, and it +was then the truth dawned upon her--Nutty had escaped. He had +slipped away and gone up to New York. + + + + +6 + + +Lord Dawlish sat in the New York flat which had been lent him by +his friend Gates. The hour was half-past ten in the evening; the +day, the second day after the exodus of Nutty Boyd from the farm. +Before him on the table lay a letter. He was smoking pensively. + +Lord Dawlish had found New York enjoyable, but a trifle fatiguing. +There was much to be seen in the city, and he had made the mistake +of trying to see it all at once. It had been his intention, when +he came home after dinner that night, to try to restore the +balance of things by going to bed early. He had sat up longer than +he had intended, because he had been thinking about this letter. + +Immediately upon his arrival in America, Bill had sought out a +lawyer and instructed him to write to Elizabeth Boyd, offering her +one-half of the late Ira Nutcombe's money. He had had time during +the voyage to think the whole matter over, and this seemed to him +the only possible course. He could not keep it all. He would feel +like the despoiler of the widow and the orphan. Nor would it be +fair to Claire to give it all up. If he halved the legacy +everybody would be satisfied. + +That at least had been his view until Elizabeth's reply had +arrived. It was this reply that lay on the table--a brief, formal +note, setting forth Miss Boyd's absolute refusal to accept any +portion of the money. This was a development which Bill had not +foreseen, and he was feeling baffled. What was the next step? He +had smoked many pipes in the endeavour to find an answer to this +problem, and was lighting another when the door-bell rang. + +He opened the door and found himself confronting an extraordinarily +tall and thin young man in evening-dress. + +Lord Dawlish was a little startled. He had taken it for granted, +when the bell rang, that his visitor was Tom, the liftman from +downstairs, a friendly soul who hailed from London and had been +dropping in at intervals during the past two days to acquire the +latest news from his native land. He stared at this changeling +inquiringly. The solution of the mystery came with the stranger's +first words-- + +'Is Gates in?' + +He spoke eagerly, as if Gates were extremely necessary to his +well-being. It distressed Lord Dawlish to disappoint him, but +there was nothing else to be done. + +'Gates is in London,' he said. + +'What! When did he go there?' + +'About four months ago.' + +'May I come in a minute?' + +'Yes, rather, do.' + +He led the way into the sitting-room. The stranger gave abruptly +in the middle, as if he were being folded up by some invisible +agency, and in this attitude sank into a chair, where he lay back +looking at Bill over his knees, like a sorrowful sheep peering +over a sharp-pointed fence. + +'You're from England, aren't you?' + +'Yes.' + +'Been in New York long?' + +'Only a couple of days.' + +The stranger folded himself up another foot or so until his knees +were higher than his head, and lit a cigarette. + +'The curse of New York,' he said, mournfully, 'is the way +everything changes in it. You can't take your eyes off it for a +minute. The population's always shifting. It's like a railway +station. You go away for a bit and come back and try to find your +old pals, and they're all gone: Ike's in Arizona, Mike's in a +sanatorium, Spike's in jail, and nobody seems to know where the +rest of them have got to. I came up from the country two days ago, +expecting to find the old gang along Broadway the same as ever, +and I'm dashed if I've been able to put my hands on one of them! +Not a single, solitary one of them! And it's only six months since +I was here last.' + +Lord Dawlish made sympathetic noises. + +'Of course,' proceeded the other, 'the time of year may have +something to do with it. Living down in the country you lose count +of time, and I forgot that it was July, when people go out of the +city. I guess that must be what happened. I used to know all sorts +of fellows, actors and fellows like that, and they're all away +somewhere. I tell you,' he said, with pathos, 'I never knew I +could be so infernally lonesome as I have been these last two +days. If I had known what a rotten time I was going to have I +would never have left Brookport.' + +'Brookport!' + +'It's a place down on Long Island.' + +Bill was not by nature a plotter, but the mere fact of travelling +under an assumed name had developed a streak of wariness in him. +He checked himself just as he was about to ask his companion if he +happened to know a Miss Elizabeth Boyd, who also lived at +Brookport. It occurred to him that the question would invite a +counter-question as to his own knowledge of Miss Boyd, and he knew +that he would not be able to invent a satisfactory answer to that +offhand. + +'This evening,' said the thin young man, resuming his dirge, 'I +was sweating my brain to try to think of somebody I could hunt up +in this ghastly, deserted city. It isn't so easy, you know, to +think of fellows' names and addresses. I can get the names all +right, but unless the fellow's in the telephone-book, I'm done. +Well, I was trying to think of some of my pals who might still be +around the place, and I remembered Gates. Remembered his address, +too, by a miracle. You're a pal of his, of course?' + +'Yes, I knew him in London.' + +'Oh, I see. And when you came over here he lent you his flat? By +the way, I didn't get your name?' + +'My name's Chalmers.' + +'Well, as I say, I remembered Gates and came down here to look him +up. We used to have a lot of good times together a year ago. And +now he's gone too!' + +'Did you want to see him about anything important?' + +'Well, it's important to me. I wanted him to come out to supper. +You see, it's this way: I'm giving supper to-night to a girl who's +in that show at the Forty-ninth Street Theatre, a Miss Leonard, +and she insists on bringing a pal. She says the pal is a good +sport, which sounds all right--' Bill admitted that it sounded all +right. 'But it makes the party three. And of all the infernal +things a party of three is the ghastliest.' + +Having delivered himself of this undeniable truth the stranger +slid a little farther into his chair and paused. 'Look here, what +are you doing to-night?' he said. + +'I was thinking of going to bed.' + +'Going to bed!' The stranger's voice was shocked, as if he had +heard blasphemy. 'Going to bed at half-past ten in New York! My +dear chap, what you want is a bit of supper. Why don't you come +along?' + +Amiability was, perhaps, the leading quality of Lord Dawlish's +character. He did not want to have to dress and go out to supper, +but there was something almost pleading in the eyes that looked at +him between the sharply-pointed knees. + +'It's awfully good of you--' He hesitated. + +'Not a bit; I wish you would. You would be a life-saver.' + +Bill felt that he was in for it. He got up. + +'You will?' said the other. 'Good boy! You go and get into some +clothes and come along. I'm sorry, what did you say your name +was?' + +'Chalmers.' + +'Mine's Boyd--Nutcombe Boyd.' + +'Boyd!' cried Bill. + +Nutty took his astonishment, which was too great to be concealed, +as a compliment. He chuckled. + +'I thought you would know the name if you were a pal of Gates's. I +expect he's always talking about me. You see, I was pretty well +known in this old place before I had to leave it.' + +Bill walked down the long passage to his bedroom with no trace of +the sleepiness which had been weighing on him five minutes before. +He was galvanized by a superstitious thrill. It was fate, +Elizabeth Boyd's brother turning up like this and making friendly +overtures right on top of that letter from her. This astonishing +thing could not have been better arranged if he had planned it +himself. From what little he had seen of Nutty he gathered that +the latter was not hard to make friends with. It would be a simple +task to cultivate his acquaintance. And having done so, he could +renew negotiations with Elizabeth. The desire to rid himself of +half the legacy had become a fixed idea with Bill. He had the +impression that he could not really feel clean again until he had +made matters square with his conscience in this respect. He felt +that he was probably a fool to take that view of the thing, but +that was the way he was built and there was no getting away from +it. + +This irruption of Nutty Boyd into his life was an omen. It meant +that all was not yet over. He was conscious of a mild surprise +that he had ever intended to go to bed. He felt now as if he never +wanted to go to bed again. He felt exhilarated. + +In these days one cannot say that a supper-party is actually given +in any one place. Supping in New York has become a peripatetic +pastime. The supper-party arranged by Nutty Boyd was scheduled to +start at Reigelheimer's on Forty-second Street, and it was there +that the revellers assembled. + +Nutty and Bill had been there a few minutes when Miss Daisy +Leonard arrived with her friend. And from that moment Bill was +never himself again. + +The Good Sport was, so to speak, an outsize in Good Sports. She +loomed up behind the small and demure Miss Leonard like a liner +towed by a tug. She was big, blonde, skittish, and exuberant; she +wore a dress like the sunset of a fine summer evening, and she +effervesced with spacious good will to all men. She was one of +those girls who splash into public places like stones into quiet +pools. Her form was large, her eyes were large, her teeth were +large, and her voice was large. She overwhelmed Bill. She hit his +astounded consciousness like a shell. She gave him a buzzing in +the ears. She was not so much a Good Sport as some kind of an +explosion. + +He was still reeling from the spiritual impact with this female +tidal wave when he became aware, as one who, coming out of a +swoon, hears voices faintly, that he was being addressed by Miss +Leonard. To turn from Miss Leonard's friend to Miss Leonard +herself was like hearing the falling of gentle rain after a +thunderstorm. For a moment he revelled in the sense of being +soothed; then, as he realized what she was saying, he started +violently. Miss Leonard was looking at him curiously. + +'I beg your pardon?' said Bill. + +'I'm sure I've met you before, Mr Chalmers.' + +'Er--really?' + +'But I can't think where.' + +'I'm sure,' said the Good Sport, languishingly, like a sentimental +siege-gun, 'that if I had ever met Mr Chalmers before I shouldn't +have forgotten him.' + +'You're English, aren't you?' asked Miss Leonard. + +'Yes.' + +The Good Sport said she was crazy about Englishmen. + +'I thought so from your voice.' + +The Good Sport said that she was crazy about the English accent. + +'It must have been in London that I met you. I was in the revue at +the Alhambra last year.' + +'By George, I wish I had seen you!' interjected the infatuated +Nutty. + +The Good Sport said that she was crazy about London. + +'I seem to remember,' went on Miss Leonard, 'meeting you out at +supper. Do you know a man named Delaney in the Coldstream Guards?' + +Bill would have liked to deny all knowledge of Delaney, though the +latter was one of his best friends, but his natural honesty +prevented him. + +'I'm sure I met you at a supper he gave at Oddy's one Friday +night. We all went on to Covent Garden. Don't you remember?' + +'Talking of supper,' broke in Nutty, earning Bill's hearty +gratitude thereby, 'where's the dashed head-waiter? I want to find +my table.' + +He surveyed the restaurant with a melancholy eye. + +'Everything changed!' He spoke sadly, as Ulysses might have done +when his boat put in at Ithaca. 'Every darned thing different +since I was here last. New waiter, head-waiter I never saw before +in my life, different-coloured carpet--' + +'Cheer up, Nutty, old thing!' said Miss Leonard. 'You'll feel +better when you've had something to eat. I hope you had the sense +to tip the head-waiter, or there won't be any table. Funny how +these places go up and down in New York. A year ago the whole +management would turn out and kiss you if you looked like spending +a couple of dollars here. Now it costs the earth to get in at +all.' + +'Why's that?' asked Nutty. + +'Lady Pauline Wetherby, of course. Didn't you know this was where +she danced?' + +'Never heard of her,' said Nutty, in a sort of ecstasy of wistful +gloom. 'That will show you how long I've been away. Who is she?' + +Miss Leonard invoked the name of Mike. + +'Don't you ever get the papers in your village, Nutty?' + +'I never read the papers. I don't suppose I've read a paper for +years. I can't stand 'em. Who is Lady Pauline Wetherby?' + +'She does Greek dances--at least, I suppose they're Greek. They +all are nowadays, unless they're Russian. She's an English +peeress.' + +Miss Leonard's friend said she was crazy about these picturesque +old English families; and they went in to supper. + + * * * * * + +Looking back on the evening later and reviewing its leading +features, Lord Dawlish came to the conclusion that he never +completely recovered from the first shock of the Good Sport. He +was conscious all the time of a dream-like feeling, as if he were +watching himself from somewhere outside himself. From some +conning-tower in this fourth dimension he perceived himself eating +broiled lobster and drinking champagne and heard himself bearing +an adequate part in the conversation; but his movements were +largely automatic. + +Time passed. It seemed to Lord Dawlish, watching from without, +that things were livening up. He seemed to perceive a quickening +of the _tempo_ of the revels, an added abandon. Nutty was +getting quite bright. He had the air of one who recalls the good +old days, of one who in familiar scenes re-enacts the joys of his +vanished youth. The chastened melancholy induced by many months of +fetching of pails of water, of scrubbing floors with a mop, and of +jumping like a firecracker to avoid excited bees had been purged +from him by the lights and the music and the wine. He was telling +a long anecdote, laughing at it, throwing a crust of bread at an +adjacent waiter, and refilling his glass at the same time. It is +not easy to do all these things simultaneously, and the fact that +Nutty did them with notable success was proof that he was picking +up. + +Miss Daisy Leonard was still demure, but as she had just slipped a +piece of ice down the back of Nutty's neck one may assume that she +was feeling at her ease and had overcome any diffidence or shyness +which might have interfered with her complete enjoyment of the +festivities. As for the Good Sport, she was larger, blonder, and +more exuberant than ever and she was addressing someone as 'Bill'. + +Perhaps the most remarkable phenomenon of the evening, as it +advanced, was the change it wrought in Lord Dawlish's attitude +toward this same Good Sport. He was not conscious of the beginning +of the change; he awoke to the realization of it suddenly. At the +beginning of supper his views on her had been definite and clear. +When they had first been introduced to each other he had had a +stunned feeling that this sort of thing ought not to be allowed at +large, and his battered brain had instinctively recalled that line +of Tennyson: 'The curse is come upon me.' But now, warmed with +food and drink and smoking an excellent cigar, he found that a +gentler, more charitable mood had descended upon him. + +He argued with himself in extenuation of the girl's peculiar +idiosyncrasies. Was it, he asked himself, altogether her fault +that she was so massive and spoke as if she were addressing an +open-air meeting in a strong gale? Perhaps it was hereditary. +Perhaps her father had been a circus giant and her mother the +strong woman of the troupe. And for the unrestraint of her manner +defective training in early girlhood would account. He began to +regard her with a quiet, kindly commiseration, which in its turn +changed into a sort of brotherly affection. He discovered that he +liked her. He liked her very much. She was so big and jolly and +robust, and spoke in such a clear, full voice. He was glad that +she was patting his hand. He was glad that he had asked her to +call him Bill. + +People were dancing now. It has been claimed by patriots that +American dyspeptics lead the world. This supremacy, though partly +due, no doubt, to vast supplies of pie absorbed in youth, may be +attributed to a certain extent also to the national habit of +dancing during meals. Lord Dawlish had that sturdy reverence for +his interior organism which is the birthright of every Briton. And +at the beginning of supper he had resolved that nothing should +induce him to court disaster in this fashion. But as the time went +on he began to waver. + +The situation was awkward. Nutty and Miss Leonard were repeatedly +leaving the table to tread the measure, and on these occasions the +Good Sport's wistfulness was a haunting reproach. Nor was the +spectacle of Nutty in action without its effect on Bill's +resolution. Nutty dancing was a sight to stir the most stolid. + +Bill wavered. The music had started again now, one of those +twentieth-century eruptions of sound that begin like a train going +through a tunnel and continue like audible electric shocks, that +set the feet tapping beneath the table and the spine thrilling +with an unaccustomed exhilaration. Every drop of blood in his body +cried to him 'Dance!' He could resist no longer. + +'Shall we?' he said. + +Bill should not have danced. He was an estimable young man, +honest, amiable, with high ideals. He had played an excellent game +of football at the university; his golf handicap was plus two; and +he was no mean performer with the gloves. But we all of us have +our limitations, and Bill had his. He was not a good dancer. He +was energetic, but he required more elbow room than the ordinary +dancing floor provides. As a dancer, in fact, he closely resembled +a Newfoundland puppy trying to run across a field. + +It takes a good deal to daunt the New York dancing man, but the +invasion of the floor by Bill and the Good Sport undoubtedly +caused a profound and even painful sensation. Linked together they +formed a living projectile which might well have intimidated the +bravest. Nutty was their first victim. They caught him in +mid-step--one of those fancy steps which he was just beginning to +exhume from the cobwebbed recesses of his memory--and swept him +away. After which they descended resistlessly upon a stout +gentleman of middle age, chiefly conspicuous for the glittering +diamonds which he wore and the stoical manner in which he danced +to and fro on one spot of not more than a few inches in size in +the exact centre of the room. He had apparently staked out a claim +to this small spot, a claim which the other dancers had decided to +respect; but Bill and the Good Sport, coming up from behind, had +him two yards away from it at the first impact. Then, scattering +apologies broadcast like a medieval monarch distributing largesse, +Bill whirled his partner round by sheer muscular force and began +what he intended to be a movement toward the farther corner, +skirting the edge of the floor. It was his simple belief that +there was more safety there than in the middle. + +He had not reckoned with Heinrich Joerg. Indeed, he was not aware +of Heinrich Joerg's existence. Yet fate was shortly to bring them +together, with far-reaching results. Heinrich Joerg had left the +Fatherland a good many years before with the prudent purpose of +escaping military service. After various vicissitudes in the land +of his adoption--which it would be extremely interesting to +relate, but which must wait for a more favourable opportunity--he +had secured a useful and not ill-recompensed situation as one of +the staff of Reigelheimer's Restaurant. He was, in point of fact, +a waiter, and he comes into the story at this point bearing a tray +full of glasses, knives, forks, and pats of butter on little +plates. He was setting a table for some new arrivals, and in order +to obtain more scope for that task he had left the crowded aisle +beyond the table and come round to the edge of the dancing-floor. + +He should not have come out on to the dancing-floor. In another +moment he was admitting that himself. For just as he was lowering +his tray and bending over the table in the pursuance of his +professional duties, along came Bill at his customary high rate +of speed, propelling his partner before him, and for the first +time since he left home Heinrich was conscious of a regret that he +had done so. There are worse things than military service! + +It was the table that saved Bill. He clutched at it and it +supported him. He was thus enabled to keep the Good Sport from +falling and to assist Heinrich to rise from the morass of glasses, +knives, and pats of butter in which he was wallowing. Then, the +dance having been abandoned by mutual consent, he helped his now +somewhat hysterical partner back to their table. + +Remorse came upon Bill. He was sorry that he had danced; sorry +that he had upset Heinrich; sorry that he had subjected the Good +Sport's nervous system to such a strain; sorry that so much glass +had been broken and so many pats of butter bruised beyond repair. +But of one thing, even in that moment of bleak regrets, he was +distinctly glad, and that was that all these things had taken +place three thousand miles away from Claire Fenwick. He had not +been appearing at his best, and he was glad that Claire had not +seen him. + +As he sat and smoked the remains of his cigar, while renewing his +apologies and explanations to his partner and soothing the ruffled +Nutty with well-chosen condolences, he wondered idly what Claire +was doing at that moment. + +Claire at that moment, having been an astonished eye-witness of +the whole performance, was resuming her seat at a table at the +other end of the room. + + + + +7 + + +There were two reasons why Lord Dawlish was unaware of Claire +Fenwick's presence at Reigelheimer's Restaurant: Reigelheimer's is +situated in a basement below a ten-storey building, and in order +to prevent this edifice from falling into his patrons' soup the +proprietor had been obliged to shore up his ceiling with massive +pillars. One of these protruded itself between the table which +Nutty had secured for his supper-party and the table at which +Claire was sitting with her friend, Lady Wetherby, and her steamer +acquaintance, Mr Dudley Pickering. That was why Bill had not seen +Claire from where he sat; and the reason that he had not seen her +when he left his seat and began to dance was that he was not one +of your dancers who glance airily about them. When Bill danced he +danced. + +He would have been stunned with amazement if he had known that +Claire was at Reigelheimer's that night. And yet it would have +been remarkable, seeing that she was the guest of Lady Wetherby, +if she had not been there. When you have travelled three thousand +miles to enjoy the hospitality of a friend who does near-Greek +dances at a popular restaurant, the least you can do is to go to +the restaurant and watch her step. Claire had arrived with Polly +Wetherby and Mr Dudley Pickering at about the time when Nutty, his +gloom melting rapidly, was instructing the waiter to open the +second bottle. + +Of Claire's movements between the time when she secured her ticket +at the steamship offices at Southampton and the moment when she +entered Reigelheimer's Restaurant it is not necessary to give a +detailed record. She had had the usual experiences of the ocean +voyager. She had fed, read, and gone to bed. The only notable +event in her trip had been her intimacy with Mr Dudley Pickering. + +Dudley Pickering was a middle-aged Middle Westerner, who by thrift +and industry had amassed a considerable fortune out of automobiles. +Everybody spoke well of Dudley Pickering. The papers spoke well of +him, Bradstreet spoke well of him, and he spoke well of himself. On +board the liner he had poured the saga of his life into Claire's +attentive ears, and there was a gentle sweetness in her manner which +encouraged Mr Pickering mightily, for he had fallen in love with +Claire on sight. + +It would seem that a schoolgirl in these advanced days would know +what to do when she found that a man worth millions was in love +with her; yet there were factors in the situation which gave +Claire pause. Lord Dawlish, of course, was one of them. She had +not mentioned Lord Dawlish to Mr Pickering, and--doubtless lest +the sight of it might pain him--she had abstained from wearing her +engagement ring during the voyage. But she had not completely lost +sight of the fact that she was engaged to Bill. Another thing that +caused her to hesitate was the fact that Dudley Pickering, however +wealthy, was a most colossal bore. As far as Claire could +ascertain on their short acquaintance, he had but one subject of +conversation--automobiles. + +To Claire an automobile was a shiny thing with padded seats, in +which you rode if you were lucky enough to know somebody who owned +one. She had no wish to go more deeply into the matter. Dudley +Pickering's attitude towards automobiles, on the other hand, more +nearly resembled that of a surgeon towards the human body. To him +a car was something to dissect, something with an interior both +interesting to explore and fascinating to talk about. Claire +listened with a radiant display of interest, but she had her +doubts as to whether any amount of money would make it worth while +to undergo this sort of thing for life. She was still in this +hesitant frame of mind when she entered Reigelheimer's Restaurant, +and it perturbed her that she could not come to some definite +decision on Mr Pickering, for those subtle signs which every woman +can recognize and interpret told her that the latter, having paved +the way by talking machinery for a week, was about to boil over +and speak of higher things. + +At the very next opportunity, she was certain, he intended to +propose. + +The presence of Lady Wetherby acted as a temporary check on the +development of the situation, but after they had been seated at +their table a short time the lights of the restaurant were +suddenly lowered, a coloured limelight became manifest near the +roof, and classical music made itself heard from the fiddles in +the orchestra. + +You could tell it was classical, because the banjo players were +leaning back and chewing gum; and in New York restaurants only +death or a classical speciality can stop banjoists. + +There was a spatter of applause, and Lady Wetherby rose. + +'This,' she explained to Claire, 'is where I do my stunt. Watch +it. I invented the steps myself. Classical stuff. It's called the +Dream of Psyche.' + +It was difficult for one who knew her as Claire did to associate +Polly Wetherby with anything classical. On the road, in England, +when they had been fellow-members of the Number Two company of +_The Heavenly Waltz_, Polly had been remarkable chiefly for a +fund of humorous anecdote and a gift, amounting almost to genius, +for doing battle with militant landladies. And renewing their +intimacy after a hiatus of a little less than a year Claire had +found her unchanged. + +It was a truculent affair, this Dream of Psyche. It was not so much +dancing as shadow boxing. It began mildly enough to the accompaniment +of _pizzicato_ strains from the orchestra--Psyche in her training +quarters. _Rallentando_--Psyche punching the bag. _Diminuendo_--Psyche +using the medicine ball. _Presto_--Psyche doing road work. _Forte_--The +night of the fight. And then things began to move to a climax. With +the fiddles working themselves to the bone and the piano bounding +under its persecutor's blows, Lady Wetherby ducked, side-stepped, +rushed, and sprang, moving her arms in a manner that may have been +classical Greek, but to the untrained eye looked much more like the +last round of some open-air bout. + +It was half-way through the exhibition, when you could smell the +sawdust and hear the seconds shouting advice under the ropes, that +Claire, who, never having seen anything in her life like this +extraordinary performance, had been staring spellbound, awoke to +the realization that Dudley Pickering was proposing to her. It +required a woman's intuition to divine this fact, for Mr Pickering +was not coherent. He did not go straight to the point. He rambled. +But Claire understood, and it came to her that this thing had +taken her before she was ready. In a brief while she would have to +give an answer of some sort, and she had not clearly decided what +answer she meant to give. + +Then, while he was still skirting his subject, before he had +wandered to what he really wished to say, the music stopped, the +applause broke out again, and Lady Wetherby returned to the table +like a pugilist seeking his corner at the end of a round. Her face +was flushed and she was breathing hard. + +'They pay me money for that!' she observed, genially. 'Can you +beat it?' + +The spell was broken. Mr Pickering sank back in his chair in a +punctured manner. And Claire, making monosyllabic replies to her +friend's remarks, was able to bend her mind to the task of finding +out how she stood on this important Pickering issue. That he would +return to the attack as soon as possible she knew; and the next +time she must have her attitude clearly defined one way or the +other. + +Lady Wetherby, having got the Dance of Psyche out of her system, +and replaced it with a glass of iced coffee, was inclined for +conversation. + +'Algie called me up on the phone this evening, Claire.' + +'Yes?' + +Claire was examining Mr Pickering with furtive side glances. He +was not handsome, nor, on the other hand, was he repulsive. +'Undistinguished' was the adjective that would have described him. +He was inclined to stoutness, but not unpardonably so; his hair +was thin, but he was not aggressively bald; his face was dull, but +certainly not stupid. There was nothing in his outer man which his +millions would not offset. As regarded his other qualities, his +conversation was certainly not exhilarating. But that also was +not, under certain conditions, an unforgivable thing. No, looking +at the matter all round and weighing it with care, the real +obstacle, Claire decided, was not any quality or lack of qualities +in Dudley Pickering--it was Lord Dawlish and the simple fact that +it would be extremely difficult, if she discarded him in favour of a +richer man without any ostensible cause, to retain her self-respect. + +'I think he's weakening.' + +'Yes?' + +Yes, that was the crux of the matter. She wanted to retain her +good opinion of herself. And in order to achieve that end it was +essential that she find some excuse, however trivial, for breaking +off the engagement. + +'Yes?' + +A waiter approached the table. + +'Mr Pickering!' + +The thwarted lover came to life with a start. + +'Eh?' + +'A gentleman wishes to speak to you on the telephone.' + +'Oh, yes. I was expecting a long-distance call, Lady Wetherby, and +left word I would be here. Will you excuse me?' + +Lady Wetherby watched him as he bustled across the room. + +'What do you think of him, Claire?' + +'Mr Pickering? I think he's very nice.' + +'He admires you frantically. I hoped he would. That's why I wanted +you to come over on the same ship with him.' + +'Polly! I had no notion you were such a schemer.' + +'I would just love to see you two fix it up,' continued Lady +Wetherby, earnestly. 'He may not be what you might call a genius, +but he's a darned good sort; and all his millions help, don't +they? You don't want to overlook these millions, Claire!' + +'I do like Mr Pickering.' + +'Claire, he asked me if you were engaged.' + +'What!' + +'When I told him you weren't, he beamed. Honestly, you've only got +to lift your little finger and--Oh, good Lord, there's Algie!' + +Claire looked up. A dapper, trim little man of about forty was +threading his way among the tables in their direction. It was a +year since Claire had seen Lord Wetherby, but she recognized him +at once. He had a red, weather-beaten face with a suspicion of +side-whiskers, small, pink-rimmed eyes with sandy eyebrows, the +smoothest of sandy hair, and a chin so cleanly shaven that it was +difficult to believe that hair had ever grown there. Although his +evening-dress was perfect in every detail, he conveyed a subtle +suggestion of horsiness. He reached the table and sat down without +invitation in the vacant chair. + +'Pauline!' he said, sorrowfully. + +'Algie!' said Lady Wetherby, tensely. 'I don't know what you've +come here for, and I don't remember asking you to sit down and put +your elbows on that table, but I want to begin by saying that I +will not be called Pauline. My name's Polly. You've got a way of +saying Pauline, as if it were a gentlemanly cuss-word, that makes +me want to scream. And while you're about it, why don't you say +how-d'you-do to Claire? You ought to remember her, she was my +bridesmaid.' + +'How do you do, Miss Fenwick. Of course, I remember you perfectly. +I'm glad to see you again.' + +'And now, Algie, what is it? Why have you come here?' Lord +Wetherby looked doubtfully at Claire. 'Oh, that's all right,' said +Lady Wetherby. 'Claire knows all about it--I told her.' + +'Then I appeal to Miss Fenwick, if, as you say, she knows all the +facts of the case, to say whether it is reasonable to expect a man +of my temperament, a nervous, highly-strung artist, to welcome the +presence of snakes at the breakfast-table. I trust that I am not +an unreasonable man, but I decline to admit that a long, green +snake is a proper thing to keep about the house.' + +'You had no right to strike the poor thing.' + +'In that one respect I was perhaps a little hasty. I happened to +be stirring my tea at the moment his head rose above the edge of +the table. I was not entirely myself that morning. My nerves were +somewhat disordered. I had lain awake much of the night planning a +canvas.' + +'Planning a what?' + +'A canvas--a picture.' + +Lady Wetherby turned to Claire. + +'I want you to listen to Algie, Claire. A year ago he did not know +one end of a paint-brush from the other. He didn't know he had any +nerves. If you had brought him the artistic temperament on a plate +with a bit of watercress round it, he wouldn't have recognized it. +And now, just because he's got a studio, he thinks he has a right +to go up in the air if you speak to him suddenly and run about the +place hitting snakes with teaspoons as if he were Michelangelo!' + +'You do me an injustice. It is true that as an artist I developed +late--But why should we quarrel? If it will help to pave the way +to a renewed understanding between us, I am prepared to apologize +for striking Clarence. That is conciliatory, I think, Miss +Fenwick?' + +'Very.' + +'Miss Fenwick considers my attitude conciliatory.' + +'It's something,' admitted Lady Wetherby, grudgingly. + +Lord Wetherby drained the whisky-and-soda which Dudley Pickering +had left behind him, and seemed to draw strength from it, for he +now struck a firmer note. + +'But, though expressing regret for my momentary loss of self-control, +I cannot recede from the position I have taken up as regards the +essential unfitness of Clarence's presence in the home.' + +Lady Wetherby looked despairingly at Claire. + +'The very first words I heard Algie speak, Claire, were at +Newmarket during the three o'clock race one May afternoon. He was +hanging over the rail, yelling like an Indian, and what he was +yelling was, "Come on, you blighter, come on! By the living jingo, +Brickbat wins in a walk!" And now he's talking about receding from +essential positions! Oh, well, he wasn't an artist then!' + +'My dear Pau--Polly. I am purposely picking my words on the +present occasion in order to prevent the possibility of further +misunderstandings. I consider myself an ambassador.' + +'You would be shocked if you knew what I consider you!' + +'I am endeavouring to the best of my ability--' + +'Algie, listen to me! I am quite calm at present, but there's no +knowing how soon I may hit you with a chair if you don't come to +earth quick and talk like an ordinary human being. What is it that +you are driving at?' + +'Very well, it's this: I'll come home if you get rid of that +snake.' + +'Never!' + +'It's surely not much to ask of you, Polly?' + +'I won't!' + +Lord Wetherby sighed. + +'When I led you to the altar,' he said, reproachfully, 'you +promised to love, honour, and obey me. I thought at the time it +was a bit of swank!' + +Lady Wetherby's manner thawed. She became more friendly. + +'When you talk like that, Algie, I feel there's hope for you after +all. That's how you used to talk in the dear old days when you'd +come to me to borrow half-a-crown to put on a horse! Listen, now +that at last you seem to be getting more reasonable; I wish I +could make you understand that I don't keep Clarence for sheer +love of him. He's a commercial asset. He's an advertisement. You +must know that I have got to have something to--' + +'I admit that may be so as regards the monkey, Eustace. Monkeys as +aids to publicity have, I believe, been tested and found valuable +by other artistes. I am prepared to accept Eustace, but the snake +is worthless.' + +'Oh, you don't object to Eustace, then?' + +'I do strongly, but I concede his uses.' + +'You would live in the same house as Eustace?' + +'I would endeavour to do so. But not in the same house as Eustace +and Clarence.' + +There was a pause. + +'I don't know that I'm so stuck on Clarence myself,' said Lady +Wetherby, weakly. + +'My darling!' + +'Wait a minute. I've not said I would get rid of him.' + +'But you will?' + +Lady Wetherby's hesitation lasted but a moment. 'All right, Algie. +I'll send him to the Zoo to-morrow.' + +'My precious pet!' + +A hand, reaching under the table, enveloped Claire's in a loving +clasp. + +From the look on Lord Wetherby's face she supposed that he was +under the delusion that he was bestowing this attention on his +wife. + +'You know, Algie, darling,' said Lady Wetherby, melting completely, +'when you get that yearning note in your voice I just flop and take +the full count.' + +'My sweetheart, when I saw you doing that Dream of +What's-the-girl's-bally-name dance just now, it was all I could +do to keep from rushing out on to the floor and hugging you.' + +'Algie!' + +'Polly!' + +'Do you mind letting go of my hand, please, Lord Wetherby?' said +Claire, on whom these saccharine exchanges were beginning to have +a cloying effect. + +For a moment Lord Wetherby seemed somewhat confused, but, pulling +himself together, he covered his embarrassment with a pomposity +that blended poorly with his horsy appearance. + +'Married life, Miss Fenwick,' he said, 'as you will no doubt +discover some day, must always be a series of mutual compromises, +of cheerful give and take. The lamp of love--' + +His remarks were cut short by a crash at the other end of the +room. There was a sharp cry and the splintering of glass. The +place was full of a sudden, sharp confusion. They jumped up with +one accord. Lady Wetherby spilled her iced coffee; Lord Wetherby +dropped the lamp of love. Claire, who was nearest the pillar that +separated them from the part of the restaurant where the accident +had happened, was the first to see what had taken place. + +A large man, dancing with a large girl, appeared to have charged +into a small waiter, upsetting him and his tray and the contents +of his tray. The various actors in the drama were now engaged in +sorting themselves out from the ruins. The man had his back toward +her, and it seemed to Claire that there was something familiar +about that back. Then he turned, and she recognized Lord Dawlish. + +She stood transfixed. For a moment surprise was her only emotion. +How came Bill to be in America? Then other feelings blended with +her surprise. It is a fact that Lord Dawlish was looking +singularly uncomfortable. + +Claire's eyes travelled from Bill to his partner and took in with +one swift feminine glance her large, exuberant blondeness. There +is no denying that, seen with a somewhat biased eye, the Good +Sport resembled rather closely a poster advertising a revue. + +Claire returned to her seat. Lord and Lady Wetherby continued to +talk, but she allowed them to conduct the conversation without her +assistance. + +'You're very quiet, Claire,' said Polly. + +'I'm thinking.' + +'A very good thing, too, so they tell me. I've never tried it +myself. Algie, darling, he was a bad boy to leave his nice home, +wasn't he? He didn't deserve to have his hand held.' + + + + +8 + + +It had been a great night for Nutty Boyd. If the vision of his +sister Elizabeth, at home at the farm speculating sadly on the +whereabouts of her wandering boy, ever came before his mental eye +he certainly did not allow it to interfere with his appreciation +of the festivities. At Frolics in the Air, whither they moved +after draining Reigelheimer's of what joys it had to offer, and at +Peale's, where they went after wearying of Frolics in the Air, he +was in the highest spirits. It was only occasionally that the +recollection came to vex him that this could not last, that--since +his Uncle Ira had played him false--he must return anon to the +place whence he had come. + +Why, in a city of all-night restaurants, these parties ever break +up one cannot say, but a merciful Providence sees to it that they +do, and just as Lord Dawlish was contemplating an eternity of the +company of Nutty and his two companions, the end came. Miss +Leonard said that she was tired. Her friend said that it was a +shame to go home at dusk like this, but, if the party was going to +be broken up, she supposed there was nothing else for it. Bill was +too sleepy to say anything. + +The Good Sport lived round the corner, and only required Lord +Dawlish's escort for a couple of hundred yards. But Miss Leonard's +hotel was in the neighbourhood of Washington Square, and it was +Nutty's pleasing task to drive her thither. Engaged thus, he +received a shock that electrified him. + +'That pal of yours,' said Miss Leonard, drowsily--she was +half-asleep--'what did you say his name was?' + +'Chalmers, he told me. I only met him to-night.' + +'Well, it isn't; it's something else. It'--Miss Leonard +yawned--'it's Lord something.' + +'How do you mean, "Lord something"?' + +'He's a lord--at least, he was when I met him in London.' + +'Are you sure you met him in London?' + +'Of course I'm sure. He was at that supper Captain Delaney gave at +Oddy's. There can't be two men in England who dance like that!' + +The recollection of Bill's performance stimulated Miss Leonard +into a temporary wakefulness, and she giggled. + +'He danced just the same way that night in London. I wish I could +remember his name. I almost had it a dozen times tonight. It's +something with a window in it.' + +'A window?' Nutty's brain was a little fatigued and he felt +himself unequal to grasping this. 'How do you mean, a window?' + +'No, not a window--a door! I knew it was something about a house. +I know now, his name's Lord Dawlish.' + +Nutty's fatigue fell from him like a garment. + +'It can't be!' + +'It is.' + +Miss Leonard's eyes had closed and she spoke in a muffled voice. + +'Are you sure?' + +'Mm-mm.' + +'By gad!' + +Nutty was wide awake now and full of inquiries; but his companion +unfortunately was asleep, and he could not put them to her. A +gentleman cannot prod a lady--and his guest, at that--in the ribs +in order to wake her up and ask her questions. Nutty sat back and +gave himself up to feverish thought. + +He could think of no reason why Lord Dawlish should have come to +America calling himself William Chalmers, but that was no reason +why he should not have done so. And Daisy Leonard, who all along +had remembered meeting him in London, had identified him. + +Nutty was convinced. Arriving finally at Miss Leonard's hotel, he +woke her up and saw her in at the door; then, telling the man to +drive to the lodgings of his new friend, he urged his mind to +rapid thought. He had decided as a first step in the following up +of this matter to invite Bill down to Elizabeth's farm, and the +thought occurred to him that this had better be done to-night, for +he knew by experience that on the morning after these little +jaunts he was seldom in the mood to seek people out and invite +them to go anywhere. + +All the way to the flat he continued to think, and it was +wonderful what possibilities there seemed to be in this little +scheme of courting the society of the man who had robbed him of +his inheritance. He had worked on Bill's feelings so successfully +as to elicit a loan of a million dollars, and was just proceeding +to marry him to Elizabeth, when the cab stopped with the sudden +sharpness peculiar to New York cabs, and he woke up, to find +himself at his destination. + +Bill was in bed when the bell rang, and received his late host in +his pyjamas, wondering, as he did so, whether this was the New +York custom, to foregather again after a party had been broken up, +and chat till breakfast. But Nutty, it seemed, had come with a +motive, not from a desire for more conversation. + +'Sorry to disturb you, old man,' said Nutty. 'I looked in to tell +you that I was going down to the country to-morrow. I wondered +whether you would care to come and spend a day or two with us.' + +Bill was delighted. This was better than he had hoped for. + +'Rather!' he said. 'Thanks awfully!' + +'There are plenty of trains in the afternoon,' said Nutty. 'I +don't suppose either of us will feel like getting up early. I'll +call for you here at half-past six, and we'll have an early dinner +and catch the seven-fifteen, shall we? We live very simply, you +know. You won't mind that?' + +'My dear chap!' + +'That's all right, then,' said Nutty, closing the door. 'Good +night.' + + + + +9 + + +Elizabeth entered Nutty's room and, seating herself on the bed, +surveyed him with a bright, quiet eye that drilled holes in her +brother's uneasy conscience. This was her second visit to him that +morning. She had come an hour ago, bearing breakfast on a tray, +and had departed without saying a word. It was this uncanny +silence of hers even more than the effects--which still lingered--of +his revels in the metropolis that had interfered with Nutty's +enjoyment of the morning meal. Never a hearty breakfaster, he had +found himself under the influence of her wordless disapproval +physically unable to consume the fried egg that confronted him. He +had given it one look; then, endorsing the opinion which he had +once heard a character in a play utter in somewhat similar +circumstances--that there was nothing on earth so homely as an +egg--he had covered it with a handkerchief and tried to pull +himself round with hot tea. He was now smoking a sad cigarette and +waiting for the blow to fall. + +Her silence had puzzled him. Though he had tried to give her no +opportunity of getting him alone on the previous evening when he +had arrived at the farm with Lord Dawlish, he had fully expected +that she would have broken in upon him with abuse and recrimination +in the middle of the night. Yet she had not done this, nor had she +spoken to him when bringing him his breakfast. These things found +their explanation in Elizabeth's character, with which Nutty, though +he had known her so long, was but imperfectly acquainted. Elizabeth +had never been angrier with her brother, but an innate goodness of +heart had prevented her falling upon him before he had had rest and +refreshment. + +She wanted to massacre him, but at the same time she told herself +that the poor dear must be feeling very, very ill, and should have +a reasonable respite before the slaughter commenced. + +It was plain that in her opinion this respite had now lasted long +enough. She looked over her shoulder to make sure that she had +closed the door, then leaned a little forward and spoke. + +'Now, Nutty!' + +The wretched youth attempted bluster. + +'What do you mean--"Now, Nutty"? What's the use of looking at a +fellow like that and saying "Now, Nutty"? Where's the sense--' + +His voice trailed off. He was not a very intelligent young man, +but even he could see that his was not a position where righteous +indignation could be assumed with any solid chance of success. As +a substitute he tried pathos. + +'Oo-oo, my head does ache!' + +'I wish it would burst,' said his sister, unkindly. + +'That's a nice thing to say to a fellow!' + +'I'm sorry. I wouldn't have said it--' + +'Oh, well!' + +'Only I couldn't think of anything worse.' + +It began to seem to Nutty that pathos was a bit of a failure too. +As a last resort he fell back on silence. He wriggled as far down +as he could beneath the sheets and breathed in a soft and wounded +sort of way. Elizabeth took up the conversation. + +'Nutty,' she said, 'I've struggled for years against the +conviction that you were a perfect idiot. I've forced myself, +against my better judgement, to try to look on you as sane, but +now I give in. I can't believe you are responsible for your +actions. Don't imagine that I am going to heap you with reproaches +because you sneaked off to New York. I'm not even going to tell +you what I thought of you for not sending me a telegram, letting +me know where you were. I can understand all that. You were +disappointed because Uncle Ira had not left you his money, and I +suppose that was your way of working it off. If you had just run +away and come back again with a headache, I'd have treated you +like the Prodigal Son. But there are some things which are too +much, and bringing a perfect stranger back with you for an +indefinite period is one of them. I'm not saying anything against +Mr Chalmers personally. I haven't had time to find out much about +him, except that he's an Englishman; but he looks respectable. +Which, as he's a friend of yours, is more or less of a miracle.' + +She raised her eyebrows as a faint moan of protest came from +beneath the sheets. + +'You surely,' she said, 'aren't going to suggest at this hour of +the day, Nutty, that your friends aren't the most horrible set of +pests outside a prison? Not that it's likely after all these +months that they are outside a prison. You know perfectly well +that while you were running round New York you collected the most +pernicious bunch of rogues that ever fastened their talons into a +silly child who ought never to have been allowed out without his +nurse.' After which complicated insult Elizabeth paused for +breath, and there was silence for a space. + +'Well, as I was saying, I know nothing against this Mr Chalmers. +Probably his finger-prints are in the Rogues' Gallery, and he is +better known to the police as Jack the Blood, or something, but he +hasn't shown that side of him yet. My point is that, whoever he +is, I do not want him or anybody else coming and taking up his +abode here while I have to be cook and housemaid too. I object to +having a stranger on the premises spying out the nakedness of the +land. I am sensitive about my honest poverty. So, darling Nutty, +my precious Nutty, you poor boneheaded muddler, will you kindly +think up at your earliest convenience some plan for politely +ejecting this Mr Chalmers of yours from our humble home?--because +if you don't, I'm going to have a nervous breakdown.' + +And, completely restored to good humour by her own eloquence, +Elizabeth burst out laughing. It was a trait in her character +which she had often lamented, that she could not succeed in +keeping angry with anyone for more than a few minutes on end. +Sooner or later some happy selection of a phrase of abuse would +tickle her sense of humour, or the appearance of her victim would +become too funny not to be laughed at. On the present occasion it +was the ridiculous spectacle of Nutty cowering beneath the +bedclothes that caused her wrath to evaporate. She made a weak +attempt to recover it. She glared at Nutty, who at the sound of +her laughter had emerged from under the clothes like a worm after +a thunderstorm. + +'I mean it,' she said. 'It really is too bad of you! You might +have had some sense and a little consideration. Ask yourself if we +are in a position here to entertain visitors. Well, I'm going to +make myself very unpopular with this Mr Chalmers of yours. By this +evening he will be regarding me with utter loathing, for I am +about to persecute him.' + +'What do you mean?' asked Nutty, alarmed. + +'I am going to begin by asking him to help me open one of the +hives.' + +'For goodness' sake!' + +'After that I shall--with his assistance--transfer some honey. And +after that--well, I don't suppose he will be alive by then. If he +is, I shall make him wash the dishes for me. The least he can do, +after swooping down on us like this, is to make himself useful.' + +A cry of protest broke from the appalled Nutty, but Elizabeth did +not hear it. She had left the room and was on her way downstairs. + +Lord Dawlish was smoking an after-breakfast cigar in the grounds. +It was a beautiful day, and a peaceful happiness had come upon +him. He told himself that he had made progress. He was under the +same roof as the girl he had deprived of her inheritance, and it +should be simple to establish such friendly relations as would +enable him to reveal his identity and ask her to reconsider her +refusal to relieve him of a just share of her uncle's money. He +had seen Elizabeth for only a short time on the previous night, +but he had taken an immediate liking to her. There was something +about the American girl, he reflected, which seemed to put a man +at his ease, a charm and directness all her own. Yes, he liked +Elizabeth, and he liked this dwelling-place of hers. He was quite +willing to stay on here indefinitely. + +Nature had done well by Flack's. The house itself was more +pleasing to the eye than most of the houses in those parts, owing +to the black and white paint which decorated it and an unconventional +flattening and rounding of the roof. Nature, too, had made so many +improvements that the general effect was unusually delightful. + +Bill perceived Elizabeth coming toward him from the house. He +threw away his cigar and went to meet her. Seen by daylight, she +was more attractive than ever. She looked so small and neat and +wholesome, so extremely unlike Miss Daisy Leonard's friend. And +such was the reaction from what might be termed his later +Reigelheimer's mood that if he had been asked to define feminine +charm in a few words, he would have replied without hesitation +that it was the quality of being as different as possible in every +way from the Good Sport. Elizabeth fulfilled this qualification. +She was not only small and neat, but she had a soft voice to which +it was a joy to listen. + +'I was just admiring your place,' he said. + +'Its appearance is the best part of it,' said Elizabeth. 'It is a +deceptive place. The bay looks beautiful, but you can't bathe in +it because of the jellyfish. The woods are lovely, but you daren't +go near them because of the ticks.' + +'Ticks?' + +'They jump on you and suck your blood,' said Elizabeth, carelessly. +'And the nights are gorgeous, but you have to stay indoors after +dusk because of the mosquitoes.' She paused to mark the effect of +these horrors on her visitor. 'And then, of course,' she went on, +as he showed no signs of flying to the house to pack his bag and +catch the next train, 'the bees are always stinging you. I hope you +are not afraid of bees, Mr Chalmers?' + +'Rather not. Jolly little chaps!' + +A gleam appeared in Elizabeth's eye. + +'If you are so fond of them, perhaps you wouldn't mind coming and +helping me open one of the hives?' + +'Rather!' + +'I'll go and fetch the things.' + +She went into the house and ran up to Nutty's room, waking that +sufferer from a troubled sleep. + +'Nutty, he's bitten.' + +Nutty sat up violently. + +'Good gracious! What by?' + +'You don't understand. What I meant was that I invited your Mr +Chalmers to help me open a hive, and he said "Rather!" and is +waiting to do it now. Be ready to say good-bye to him. If he comes +out of this alive, his first act, after bathing the wounds with +ammonia, will be to leave us for ever.' + +'But look here, he's a visitor--' + +'Cheer up! He won't be much longer.' + +'You can't let him in for a ghastly thing like opening a hive. +When you made me do it that time I was picking stings out of +myself for a week.' + +'That was because you had been smoking. Bees dislike the smell of +tobacco.' + +'But this fellow may have been smoking.' + +'He has just finished a strong cigar.' + +'For Heaven's sake!' + +'Good-bye, Nutty, dear; I mustn't keep him waiting.' + +Lord Dawlish looked with interest at the various implements which +she had collected when she rejoined him outside. He relieved her +of the stool, the smoker, the cotton-waste, the knife, the +screwdriver, and the queen-clipping cage. + +'Let me carry these for you,' he said, 'unless you've hired a +van.' + +Elizabeth disapproved of this flippancy. It was out of place in +one who should have been trembling at the prospect of doom. + +'Don't you wear a veil for this sort of job?' + +As a rule Elizabeth did. She had reached a stage of intimacy with +her bees which rendered a veil a superfluous precaution, but until +to-day she had never abandoned it. Her view of the matter was +that, though the inhabitants of the hives were familiar and +friendly with her by this time and recognized that she came among +them without hostile intent, it might well happen that among so +many thousands there might be one slow-witted enough and obtuse +enough not to have grasped this fact. And in such an event a veil +was better than any amount of explanations, for you cannot stick +to pure reason when quarrelling with bees. + +But to-day it had struck her that she could hardly protect herself +in this way without offering a similar safeguard to her visitor, +and she had no wish to hedge him about with safeguards. + +'Oh, no,' she said, brightly; 'I'm not afraid of a few bees. Are +you?' + +'Rather not!' + +'You know what to do if one of them flies at you?' + +'Well, it would, anyway--what? What I mean to say is, I could +leave most of the doing to the bee.' + +Elizabeth was more disapproving than ever. This was mere bravado. +She did not speak again until they reached the hives. + +In the neighbourhood of the hives a vast activity prevailed. What, +heard from afar, had been a pleasant murmur became at close +quarters a menacing tumult. The air was full of bees--bees +sallying forth for honey, bees returning with honey, bees +trampling on each other's heels, bees pausing in mid-air to pass +the time of day with rivals on competing lines of traffic. +Blunt-bodied drones whizzed to and fro with a noise like miniature +high-powered automobiles, as if anxious to convey the idea of being +tremendously busy without going to the length of doing any actual +work. One of these blundered into Lord Dawlish's face, and it +pleased Elizabeth to observe that he gave a jump. + +'Don't be afraid,' she said, 'it's only a drone. Drones have no +stings.' + +'They have hard heads, though. Here he comes again!' + +'I suppose he smells your tobacco. A drone has thirty-seven +thousand eight hundred nostrils, you know.' + +'That gives him a sporting chance of smelling a cigar--what? I +mean to say, if he misses with eight hundred of his nostrils he's +apt to get it with the other thirty-seven thousand.' + +Elizabeth was feeling annoyed with her bees. They resolutely +declined to sting this young man. Bees flew past him, bees flew +into him, bees settled upon his coat, bees paused questioningly in +front of him, as who should say, 'What have we here?' but not a +single bee molested him. Yet when Nutty, poor darling, went within +a dozen yards of the hives he never failed to suffer for it. In +her heart Elizabeth knew perfectly well that this was because +Nutty, when in the presence of the bees, lost his head completely +and behaved like an exaggerated version of Lady Wetherby's Dream +of Psyche, whereas Bill maintained an easy calm; but at the moment +she put the phenomenon down to that inexplicable cussedness which +does so much to exasperate the human race, and it fed her +annoyance with her unbidden guest. + +Without commenting on his last remark, she took the smoker from +him and set to work. She inserted in the fire-chamber a handful of +the cotton-waste and set fire to it; then with a preliminary puff +or two of the bellows to make sure that the conflagration had not +gone out, she aimed the nozzle at the front door of the hive. + +The results were instantaneous. One or two bee-policemen, who were +doing fixed point-duty near the opening, scuttled hastily back +into the hive; and from within came a muffled buzzing as other +bees, all talking at once, worried the perplexed officials with +foolish questions, a buzzing that became less muffled and more +pronounced as Elizabeth lifted the edge of the cover and directed +more smoke through the crack. This done, she removed the cover, +set it down on the grass beside her, lifted the super-cover and +applied more smoke, and raised her eyes to where Bill stood +watching. His face wore a smile of pleased interest. + +Elizabeth's irritation became painful. She resented his smile. She +hung the smoker on the side of the hive. + +'The stool, please, and the screw-driver.' + +She seated herself beside the hive and began to loosen the outside +section. Then taking the brood-frame by the projecting ends, she +pulled it out and handed it to her companion. She did it as one +who plays an ace of trumps. + +'Would you mind holding this, Mr Chalmers?' + +This was the point in the ceremony at which the wretched Nutty had +broken down absolutely, and not inexcusably, considering the +severity of the test. The surface of the frame was black with what +appeared at first sight to be a thick, bubbling fluid of some +sort, pouring viscously to and fro as if some hidden fire had been +lighted beneath it. Only after a closer inspection was it apparent +to the lay eye that this seeming fluid was in reality composed of +mass upon mass of bees. They shoved and writhed and muttered and +jostled, for all the world like a collection of home-seeking City +men trying to secure standing room on the Underground at half-past +five in the afternoon. + +Nutty, making this discovery, had emitted one wild yell, dropped +the frame, and started at full speed for the house, his retreat +expedited by repeated stings from the nervous bees. Bill, more +prudent, remained absolutely motionless. He eyed the seething +frame with interest, but without apparent panic. + +'I want you to help me here, Mr Chalmers. You have stronger wrists +than I have. I will tell you what to do. Hold the frame tightly.' + +'I've got it.' + +'Jerk it down as sharply as you can to within a few inches of the +door, and then jerk it up again. You see, that shakes them off.' + +'It would me,' agreed Bill, cordially, 'if I were a bee.' + +Elizabeth had the feeling that she had played her ace of trumps +and by some miracle lost the trick. If this grisly operation did +not daunt the man, nothing, not even the transferring of honey, +would. She watched him as he raised the frame and jerked it down +with a strong swiftness which her less powerful wrists had never +been able to achieve. The bees tumbled off in a dense shower, +asking questions to the last; then, sighting the familiar entrance +to the hive, they bustled in without waiting to investigate the +cause of the earthquake. + +Lord Dawlish watched them go with a kindly interest. + +'It has always been a mystery to me,' he said, 'why they never +seem to think of manhandling the Johnny who does that to them. +They don't seem able to connect cause and effect. I suppose the +only way they can figure it out is that the bottom has suddenly +dropped out of everything, and they are so busy lighting out for +home that they haven't time to go to the root of things. But it's +a ticklish job, for all that, if you're not used to it. I know +when I first did it I shut my eyes and wondered whether they would +bury my remains or cremate them.' + +'When you first did it?' Elizabeth was staring at him blankly. +'Have you done it before?' + +Her voice shook. Bill met her gaze frankly. + +'Done it before? Rather! Thousands of times. You see, I spent a +year on a bee-farm once, learning the business.' + +For a moment mortification was the only emotion of which Elizabeth +was conscious. She felt supremely ridiculous. For this she had +schemed and plotted--to give a practised expert the opportunity of +doing what he had done a thousand times before! + +And then her mood changed in a flash. Nature has decreed that +there are certain things in life which shall act as hoops of +steel, grappling the souls of the elect together. Golf is one of +these; a mutual love of horseflesh another; but the greatest of +all is bees. Between two beekeepers there can be no strife. Not +even a tepid hostility can mar their perfect communion. + +The petty enmities which life raises to be barriers between man +and man and between man and woman vanish once it is revealed to +them that they are linked by this great bond. Envy, malice, +hatred, and all uncharitableness disappear, and they look into +each other's eyes and say 'My brother!' + +The effect of Bill's words on Elizabeth was revolutionary. They +crashed through her dislike, scattering it like an explosive +shell. She had resented this golden young man's presence at the +farm. She had thought him in the way. She had objected to his +becoming aware that she did such prosaic tasks as cooking and +washing-up. But now her whole attitude toward him was changed. She +reflected that he was there. He could stay there as long as he +liked, the longer the better. + +'You have really kept bees?' + +'Not actually kept them, worse luck! I couldn't raise the capital. +You see, money was a bit tight--' + +'I know,' said Elizabeth, sympathetically. 'Money is like that, +isn't it?' + +'The general impression seemed to be that I should be foolish to +try anything so speculative as beekeeping, so it fell through. +Some very decent old boys got me another job.' + +'What job?' + +'Secretary to a club.' + +'In London, of course?' + +'Yes.' + +'And all the time you wanted to be in the country keeping bees!' + +Elizabeth could hardly control her voice, her pity was so great. + +'I should have liked it,' said Bill, wistfully. 'London's all +right, but I love the country. My ambition would be to have a +whacking big farm, a sort of ranch, miles away from anywhere--' + +He broke off. This was not the first time he had caught himself +forgetting how his circumstances had changed in the past few +weeks. It was ridiculous to be telling hard-luck stories about not +being able to buy a farm, when he had the wherewithal to buy +dozens of farms. It took a lot of getting used to, this business +of being a millionaire. + +'That's my ambition too,' said Elizabeth, eagerly. This was the +very first time she had met a congenial spirit. Nutty's views on +farming and the Arcadian life generally were saddening to an +enthusiast. 'If I had the money I should get an enormous farm, and +in the summer I should borrow all the children I could find, and +take them out to it and let them wallow in it.' + +'Wouldn't they do a lot of damage?' + +'I shouldn't mind. I should be too rich to worry about the damage. +If they ruined the place beyond repair I'd go and buy another.' +She laughed. 'It isn't so impossible as it sounds. I came very +near being able to do it.' She paused for a moment, but went on +almost at once. After all, if you cannot confide your intimate +troubles to a fellow bee-lover, to whom can you confide them? 'An +uncle of mine--' + +Bill felt himself flushing. He looked away from her. He had a +sense of almost unbearable guilt, as if he had just done some +particularly low crime and was contemplating another. + +'--An uncle of mine would have left me enough money to buy all the +farms I wanted, only an awful person, an English lord. I wonder if +you have heard of him?--Lord Dawlish--got hold of uncle somehow +and induced him to make a will leaving all the money to him.' + +She looked at Bill for sympathy, and was touched to see that he +was crimson with emotion. He must be a perfect dear to take other +people's misfortunes to heart like that. + +'I don't know how he managed it,' she went on. 'He must have +worked and plotted and schemed, for Uncle Ira wasn't a weak sort +of man whom you could do what you liked with. He was very +obstinate. But, anyway, this Lord Dawlish succeeded in doing it +somehow, and then'--her eyes blazed at the recollection--'he had +the insolence to write to me through his lawyers offering me half. +I suppose he was hoping to satisfy his conscience. Naturally I +refused it.' + +'But--but--but why?' + +'Why! Why did I refuse it? Surely you don't think I was going to +accept charity from the man who had cheated me?' + +'But--but perhaps he didn't mean it like that. What I mean to say +is--as charity, you know.' + +'He did! But don't let's talk of it any more. It makes me angry to +think of him, and there's no use spoiling a lovely day like this +by getting angry.' + +Bill sighed. He had never dreamed before that it could be so +difficult to give money away. He was profoundly glad that he had +not revealed his identity, as he had been on the very point of +doing just when she began her remarks. He understood now why that +curt refusal had come in answer to his lawyer's letter. Well, +there was nothing to do but wait and hope that time might +accomplish something. + +'What do you want me to do next?' he said. 'Why did you open the +hive? Did you want to take a look at the queen?' + +Elizabeth hesitated. She blushed with pure shame. She had had but +one motive in opening the hive, and that had been to annoy him. +She scorned to take advantage of the loophole he had provided. +Beekeeping is a freemasonry. A beekeeper cannot deceive a +brother-mason. + +She faced him bravely. + +'I didn't want to take a look at anything, Mr Chalmers. I opened +that hive because I wanted you to drop the frame, as my brother +did, and get stung, as he was; because I thought that would drive +you away, because I thought then that I didn't want you down here. +I'm ashamed of myself, and I don't know where I'm getting the +nerve to tell you this. I hope you will stay on--on and on and +on.' + +Bill was aghast. + +'Good Lord! If I'm in the way--' + +'You aren't in the way.' + +'But you said--' + +'But don't you see that it's so different now? I didn't know then +that you were fond of bees. You must stay, if my telling you +hasn't made you feel that you want to catch the next train. You +will save our lives--mine and Nutty's too. Oh, dear, you're +hesitating! You're trying to think up some polite way of getting +out of the place! You mustn't go, Mr Chalmers; you simply must +stay. There aren't any mosquitoes, no jellyfish--nothing! At +least, there are; but what do they matter? You don't mind them. Do +you play golf?' + +'Yes.' + +'There are links here. You can't go until you've tried them. What +is your handicap?' + +'Plus two.' + +'So is mine.' + +'By Jove! Really?' + +Elizabeth looked at him, her eyes dancing. + +'Why, we're practically twin souls, Mr Chalmers! Tell me, I know +your game is nearly perfect, but if you have a fault, is it a +tendency to putt too hard?' + +'Why, by Jove--yes, it is!' + +'I knew it. Something told me. It's the curse of my life too! +Well, after that you can't go away.' + +'But if I'm in the way--' + +'In the way! Mr Chalmers, will you come in now and help me wash +the breakfast things?' + +'Rather!' said Lord Dawlish. + + + + +10 + + +In the days that followed their interrupted love-scene at +Reigelheimer's Restaurant that night of Lord Dawlish's unfortunate +encounter with the tray-bearing waiter, Dudley Pickering's +behaviour had perplexed Claire Fenwick. She had taken it for +granted that next day at the latest he would resume the offer of +his hand, heart, and automobiles. But time passed and he made no +move in that direction. Of limousine bodies, carburettors, +spark-plugs, and inner tubes he spoke with freedom and eloquence, +but the subject of love and marriage he avoided absolutely. His +behaviour was inexplicable. + +Claire was piqued. She was in the position of a hostess who has +swept and garnished her house against the coming of a guest and +waits in vain for that guest's arrival. She made up her mind what +to do when Dudley Pickering proposed to her next time, and +thereby, it seemed to her, had removed all difficulties in the +way of that proposal. She little knew her Pickering! + +Dudley Pickering was not a self-starter in the motordrome of love. +He needed cranking. He was that most unpromising of matrimonial +material, a shy man with a cautious disposition. If he overcame +his shyness, caution applied the foot-brake. If he succeeded in +forgetting caution, shyness shut off the gas. At Reigelheimer's +some miracle had made him not only reckless but un-self-conscious. +Possibly the Dream of Psyche had gone to his head. At any rate, he +had been on the very verge of proposing to Claire when the +interruption had occurred, and in bed that night, reviewing the +affair, he had been appalled at the narrowness of his escape from +taking a definite step. Except in the way of business, he was a +man who hated definite steps. He never accepted even a dinner +invitation without subsequent doubts and remorse. The consequence +was that, in the days that followed the Reigelheimer episode, what +Lord Wetherby would have called the lamp of love burned rather low +in Mr Pickering, as if the acetylene were running out. He still +admired Claire intensely and experienced disturbing emotions when +he beheld her perfect tonneau and wonderful headlights; but he +regarded her with a cautious fear. Although he sometimes dreamed +sentimentally of marriage in the abstract, of actual marriage, of +marriage with a flesh-and-blood individual, of marriage that +involved clergymen and 'Voices that Breathe o'er Eden,' and +giggling bridesmaids and cake, Dudley Pickering was afraid with a +terror that woke him sweating in the night. His shyness shrank +from the ceremony, his caution jibbed at the mysteries of married +life. So his attitude toward Claire, the only girl who had +succeeded in bewitching him into the opening words of an actual +proposal, was a little less cordial and affectionate than if she +had been a rival automobile manufacturer. + +Matters were in this state when Lady Wetherby, who, having danced +classical dances for three months without a break, required a +rest, shifted her camp to the house which she had rented for the +summer at Brookport, Long Island, taking with her Algie, her +husband, the monkey Eustace, and Claire and Mr Pickering, her +guests. The house was a large one, capable of receiving a big +party, but she did not wish to entertain on an ambitious scale. +The only other guest she proposed to put up was Roscoe Sherriff, +her press agent, who was to come down as soon as he could get away +from his metropolitan duties. + +It was a pleasant and romantic place, the estate which Lady +Wetherby had rented. Standing on a hill, the house looked down +through green trees on the gleaming waters of the bay. Smooth +lawns and shady walks it had, and rustic seats beneath spreading +cedars. Yet for all its effect on Dudley Pickering it might have +been a gasworks. He roamed the smooth lawns with Claire, and sat +with her on the rustic benches and talked guardedly of lubricating +oil. There were moments when Claire was almost impelled to forfeit +whatever chance she might have had of becoming mistress of thirty +million dollars and a flourishing business, for the satisfaction +of administering just one whole-hearted slap on his round and +thinly-covered head. + +And then Roscoe Sherriff came down, and Dudley Pickering, who for +days had been using all his resolution to struggle against the +siren, suddenly found that there was no siren to struggle against. +No sooner had the press agent appeared than Claire deserted him +shamelessly and absolutely. She walked with Roscoe Sherriff. Mr +Pickering experienced the discomfiting emotions of the man who +pushes violently against an abruptly-yielding door, or treads +heavily on the top stair where there is no top stair. He was +shaken, and the clamlike stolidity which he had assumed as +protection gave way. + +Night had descended upon Brookport. Eustace, the monkey, was in +his little bed; Lord Wetherby in the smoking-room. It was Sunday, +the day of rest. Dinner was over, and the remainder of the party +were gathered in the drawing-room, with the exception of Mr +Pickering, who was smoking a cigar on the porch. A full moon +turned Long Island into a fairyland. + +Gloom had settled upon Dudley Pickering and he smoked sadly. All +rather stout automobile manufacturers are sad when there is a full +moon. It makes them feel lonely. It stirs their hearts to thoughts +of love. Marriage loses its terrors for them, and they think +wistfully of hooking some fair woman up the back and buying her +hats. Such was the mood of Mr Pickering, when through the dimness +of the porch there appeared a white shape, moving softly toward +him. + +'Is that you, Mr Pickering?' + +Claire dropped into the seat beside him. From the drawing-room +came the soft tinkle of a piano. The sound blended harmoniously +with the quiet peace of the night. Mr Pickering let his cigar go +out and clutched the sides of his chair. + + Oi'll--er--sing thee saw-ongs ov Arrabee, + Und--ah ta-ales of farrr Cash-mee-eere, + Wi-ild tales to che-eat thee ovasigh + Und charrrrm thee to-oo a tear-er. + +Claire gave a little sigh. + +'What a beautiful voice Mr Sherriff has!' + +Dudley Pickering made no reply. He thought Roscoe Sherriff had a +beastly voice. He resented Roscoe Sherriff's voice. He objected to +Roscoe Sherriff's polluting this fair night with his cacophony. + +'Don't you think so, Mr Pickering?' + +'Uh-huh.' + +'That doesn't sound very enthusiastic. Mr Pickering, I want you to +tell me something. Have I done anything to offend you?' + +Mr Pickering started violently. + +'Eh?' + +'I have seen so little of you these last few days. A little while +ago we were always together, having such interesting talks. But +lately it has seemed to me that you have been avoiding me.' + +A feeling of helplessness swept over Mr Pickering. He was vaguely +conscious of a sense of being treated unjustly, of there being a +flaw in Claire's words somewhere if he could only find it, but the +sudden attack had deprived him of the free and unfettered use of +his powers of reasoning. He gurgled wordlessly, and Claire went +on, her low, sad voice mingling with the moonlight in a manner +that caused thrills to run up and down his spine. He felt +paralyzed. Caution urged him to make some excuse and follow it +with a bolt to the drawing-room, but he was physically incapable +of taking the excellent advice. Sometimes when you are out in your +Pickering Gem or your Pickering Giant the car hesitates, falters, +and stops dead, and your chauffeur, having examined the carburettor, +turns to you and explains the phenomenon in these words: 'The +mixture is too rich.' So was it with Mr Pickering now. The moonlight +alone might not have held him; Claire's voice alone might not have +held him; but against the two combined he was powerless. The +mixture was too rich. He sat and breathed a little stertorously, +and there came to him that conviction that comes to all of us now +and then, that we are at a crisis of our careers and that the +moment through which we are living is a moment big with fate. + +The voice in the drawing-room stopped. Having sung songs of Araby +and tales of far Cashmere, Mr Roscoe Sherriff was refreshing +himself with a comic paper. But Lady Wetherby, seated at the +piano, still touched the keys softly, and the sound increased the +richness of the mixture which choked Dudley Pickering's spiritual +carburettor. It is not fair that a rather stout manufacturer +should be called upon to sit in the moonlight while a beautiful +girl, to the accompaniment of soft music, reproaches him with +having avoided her. + +'I should be so sorry, Mr Pickering, if I had done anything to +make a difference between us--' + +'Eh?' said Mr Pickering. + +'I have so few real friends over here.' + +Claire's voice trembled. + +'I--I get a little lonely, a little homesick sometimes--' + +She paused, musing, and a spasm of pity rent the bosom beneath +Dudley Pickering's ample shirt. There was a buzzing in his ears +and a lump choked his throat. + +'Of course, I am loving the life here. I think America's +wonderful, and nobody could be kinder than Lady Wetherby. But--I +miss my home. It's the first time I have been away for so long. I +feel very far away sometimes. There are only three of us at home: +my mother, myself, and my little brother--little Percy.' + +Her voice trembled again as she spoke the last two words, and it +was possibly this that caused Mr Pickering to visualize Percy as a +sort of little Lord Fauntleroy, his favourite character in English +literature. He had a vision of a small, delicate, wistful child +pining away for his absent sister. Consumptive probably. Or +curvature of the spine. + +He found Claire's hand in his. He supposed dully he must have +reached out for it. Soft and warm it lay there, while the universe +paused breathlessly. And then from the semi-darkness beside him +there came the sound of a stifled sob, and his fingers closed as +if someone had touched a button. + +'We have always been such chums. He is only ten--such a dear boy! +He must be missing me--' + +She stopped, and simultaneously Dudley Pickering began to speak. + +There is this to be said for your shy, cautious man, that on the +rare occasions when he does tap the vein of eloquence that vein +becomes a geyser. It was as if after years of silence and +monosyllables Dudley Pickering was endeavouring to restore the +average. + +He began by touching on his alleged neglect and avoidance of +Claire. He called himself names and more names. He plumbed the +depth of repentance and remorse. Proceeding from this, he +eulogized her courage, the pluck with which she presented a +smiling face to the world while tortured inwardly by separation +from her little brother Percy. He then turned to his own feelings. + +But there are some things which the historian should hold sacred, +some things which he should look on as proscribed material for his +pen, and the actual words of a stout manufacturer of automobiles +proposing marriage in the moonlight fall into this class. It is +enough to say that Dudley Pickering was definite. He left no room +for doubt as to his meaning. + +'Dudley!' + +She was in his arms. He was embracing her. She was his--the latest +model, self-starting, with limousine body and all the newest. No, +no, his mind was wandering. She was his, this divine girl, this +queen among women, this-- + +From the drawing-room Roscoe Sherriff's voice floated out in +unconscious comment-- + + Good-bye, boys! + I'm going to be married to-morrow. + Good-bye, boys! + I'm going from sunshine to sorrow. + No more sitting up till broad daylight. + +Did a momentary chill cool the intensity of Dudley Pickering's +ardour? If so he overcame it instantly. He despised Roscoe +Sherriff. He flattered himself that he had shown Roscoe Sherriff +pretty well who was who and what was what. + +They would have a wonderful wedding--dozens of clergymen, scores +of organs playing 'The Voice that Breathed o'er Eden,' platoons of +bridesmaids, wagonloads of cake. And then they would go back to +Detroit and live happy ever after. And it might be that in time to +come there would be given to them little runabouts. + + I'm going to a life + Of misery and strife, + So good-bye, boys! + +Hang Roscoe Sherriff! What did he know about it! Confound him! +Dudley Pickering turned a deaf ear to the song and wallowed in his +happiness. + +Claire walked slowly down the moonlit drive. She had removed +herself from her Dudley's embraces, for she wished to be alone, to +think. The engagement had been announced. All that part of it was +over--Dudley's stammering speech, the unrestrained delight of +Polly Wetherby, the facetious rendering of 'The Wedding Glide' on +the piano by Roscoe Sherriff, and it now remained for her to try +to discover a way of conveying the news to Bill. + +It had just struck her that, though she knew that Bill was in +America, she had not his address. + +What was she to do? She must tell him. Otherwise it might quite +easily happen that they might meet in New York when she returned +there. She pictured the scene. She saw herself walking with Dudley +Pickering. Along came Bill. 'Claire, darling!' ... Heavens, what +would Dudley think? It would be too awful! She couldn't explain. +No, somehow or other, even if she put detectives on his trail, she +must find him, and be off with the old love now that she was on +with the new. + +She reached the gate and leaned over it. And as she did so someone +in the shadow of a tall tree spoke her name. A man came into the +light, and she saw that it was Lord Dawlish. + + + + +11 + + +Lord Dawlish had gone for a moonlight walk that night because, +like Claire, he wished to be alone to think. He had fallen with a +pleasant ease and smoothness into the rather curious life lived at +Elizabeth Boyd's bee-farm. A liking for picnics had lingered in +him from boyhood, and existence at Flack's was one prolonged +picnic. He found that he had a natural aptitude for the more +muscular domestic duties, and his energy in this direction +enchanted Nutty, who before his advent had had a monopoly of these +tasks. + +Nor was this the only aspect of the situation that pleased Nutty. +When he had invited Bill to the farm he had had a vague hope that +good might come of it, but he had never dreamed that things would +turn out as well as they promised to do, or that such a warm and +immediate friendship would spring up between his sister and the +man who had diverted the family fortune into his own pocket. Bill +and Elizabeth were getting on splendidly. They were together all +the time--walking, golfing, attending to the numerous needs of the +bees, or sitting on the porch. Nutty's imagination began to run +away with him. He seemed to smell the scent of orange-blossoms, to +hear the joyous pealing of church bells--in fact, with the +difference that it was not his own wedding that he was anticipating, +he had begun to take very much the same view of the future that was +about to come to Dudley Pickering. + +Elizabeth would have been startled and embarrassed if she could +have read his thoughts, for they might have suggested to her that +she was becoming a great deal fonder of Bill than the shortness of +their acquaintance warranted. But though she did not fail to +observe the strangeness of her brother's manner, she traced it to +another source than the real one. Nutty had a habit of starting +back and removing himself when, entering the porch, he perceived +that Bill and his sister were already seated there. His own +impression on such occasions was that he was behaving with +consummate tact. Elizabeth supposed that he had had some sort of a +spasm. + +Lord Dawlish, if he had been able to diagnose correctly the almost +paternal attitude which had become his host's normal manner these +days, would have been equally embarrassed but less startled, for +conscience had already suggested to him from time to time that he +had been guilty of a feeling toward Elizabeth warmer than any +feeling that should come to an engaged man. Lying in bed at the +end of his first week at the farm, he reviewed the progress of his +friendship with her, and was amazed at the rapidity with which it +had grown. + +He could not conceal it from himself--Elizabeth appealed to him. +Being built on a large scale himself, he had always been attracted +by small women. There was a smallness, a daintiness, a liveliness +about Elizabeth that was almost irresistible. She was so capable, +so cheerful in spite of the fact that she was having a hard time. +And then their minds seemed to blend so remarkably. There were no +odd corners to be smoothed away. Never in his life had he felt so +supremely at his ease with one of the opposite sex. He loved +Claire--he drove that fact home almost angrily to himself--but he +was forced to admit that he had always been aware of something in +the nature of a barrier between them. Claire was querulous at +times, and always a little too apt to take offence. He had never +been able to talk to her with that easy freedom that Elizabeth +invited. Talking to Elizabeth was like talking to an attractive +version of oneself. It was a thing to be done with perfect +confidence, without any of that apprehension which Claire inspired +lest the next remark might prove the spark to cause an explosion. +But Claire was the girl he loved--there must be no mistake about +that. + +He came to the conclusion that the key to the situation was the +fact that Elizabeth was American. He had read so much of the +American girl, her unaffectedness, her genius for easy comradeship. +Well, this must be what the writer fellows meant. He had happened +upon one of those delightful friendships without any suspicion of +sex in them of which the American girl had the monopoly. Yes, that +must be it. It was a comforting explanation. It accounted for his +feeling at a loose end whenever he was away from Elizabeth for as +much as half an hour. It accounted for the fact that they understood +each other so well. It accounted for everything so satisfactorily +that he was able to get to sleep that night after all. + +But next morning--for his conscience was one of those persistent +consciences--he began to have doubts again. Nothing clings like a +suspicion in the mind of a conscientious young man that he has +been allowing his heart to stray from its proper anchorage. + +Could it be that he was behaving badly toward Claire? The thought +was unpleasant, but he could not get rid of it. He extracted +Claire's photograph from his suit-case and gazed solemnly upon it. + +At first he was shocked to find that it only succeeded in +convincing him that Elizabeth was quite the most attractive girl +he ever had met. The photographer had given Claire rather a severe +look. He had told her to moisten the lips with the tip of the +tongue and assume a pleasant smile, with the result that she +seemed to glare. She had a rather markedly aggressive look, +queenly perhaps, but not very comfortable. + +But there is no species of self-hypnotism equal to that of a man +who gazes persistently at a photograph with the preconceived idea +that he is in love with the original of it. Little by little Bill +found that the old feeling began to return. He persevered. By the +end of a quarter of an hour he had almost succeeded in capturing +anew that first fine careless rapture which, six months ago, had +caused him to propose to Claire and walk on air when she accepted +him. + +He continued the treatment throughout the day, and by dinner-time +had arranged everything with his conscience in the most satisfactory +manner possible. He loved Claire with a passionate fervour; he +liked Elizabeth very much indeed. He submitted this diagnosis to +conscience, and conscience graciously approved and accepted it. + +It was Sunday that day. That helped. There is nothing like Sunday +in a foreign country for helping a man to sentimental thoughts of +the girl he has left behind him elsewhere. And the fact that there +was a full moon clinched it. Bill was enabled to go for an +after-dinner stroll in a condition of almost painful loyalty to Claire. + +From time to time, as he walked along the road, he took out the +photograph and did some more gazing. The last occasion on which he +did this was just as he emerged from the shadow of a large tree +that stood by the roadside, and a gush of rich emotion rewarded +him. + +'Claire!' he murmured. + +An exclamation at his elbow caused him to look up. There, leaning +over a gate, the light of the moon falling on her beautiful face, +stood Claire herself! + + + + +12 + + +In trying interviews, as in sprint races, the start is everything. +It was the fact that she recovered more quickly from her +astonishment that enabled Claire to dominate her scene with Bill. +She had the advantage of having a less complicated astonishment to +recover from, for, though it was a shock to see him there when she +had imagined that he was in New York, it was not nearly such a +shock as it was to him to see her here when he had imagined that +she was in England. She had adjusted her brain to the situation +while he was still gaping. + +'Well, Bill?' + +This speech in itself should have been enough to warn Lord Dawlish +of impending doom. As far as love, affection, and tenderness are +concerned, a girl might just as well hit a man with an axe as say +'Well, Bill?' to him when they have met unexpectedly in the +moonlight after long separation. But Lord Dawlish was too shattered +by surprise to be capable of observing _nuances_. If his love had +ever waned or faltered, as conscience had suggested earlier in the +day, it was at full blast now. + +'Claire!' he cried. + +He was moving to take her in his arms, but she drew back. + +'No, really, Bill!' she said; and this time it did filter through +into his disordered mind that all was not well. A man who is a +good deal dazed at the moment may fail to appreciate a remark like +'Well, Bill?' but for a girl to draw back and say, 'No, really, +Bill!' in a tone not exactly of loathing, but certainly of pained +aversion, is a deliberately unfriendly act. The three short words, +taken in conjunction with the movement, brought him up with as +sharp a turn as if she had punched him in the eye. + +'Claire! What's the matter?' + +She looked at him steadily. She looked at him with a sort of +queenly woodenness, as if he were behind a camera with a velvet +bag over his head and had just told her to moisten the lips with +the tip of the tongue. Her aspect staggered Lord Dawlish. A +cursory inspection of his conscience showed nothing but purity and +whiteness, but he must have done something, or she would not be +staring at him like this. + +'I don't understand!' was the only remark that occurred to him. + +'Are you sure?' + +'What do you mean?' + +'I was at Reigelheimer's Restaurant--Ah!' + +The sudden start which Lord Dawlish had given at the opening words +of her sentence justified the concluding word. Innocent as his +behaviour had been that night at Reigelheimer's, he had been glad +at the time that he had not been observed. It now appeared that he +had been observed, and it seemed to him that Long Island suddenly +flung itself into a whirling dance. He heard Claire speaking a +long way off: 'I was there with Lady Wetherby. It was she who +invited me to come to America. I went to the restaurant to see her +dance--and I saw you!' + +With a supreme effort Bill succeeded in calming down the excited +landscape. He willed the trees to stop dancing, and they came +reluctantly to a standstill. The world ceased to swim and flicker. + +'Let me explain,' he said. + +The moment he had said the words he wished he could recall them. +Their substance was right enough; it was the sound of them that +was wrong. They sounded like a line from a farce, where the erring +husband has been caught by the masterful wife. They were +ridiculous. Worse than being merely ridiculous, they created an +atmosphere of guilt and evasion. + +'Explain! How can you explain? It is impossible to explain. I saw +you with my own eyes making an exhibition of yourself with a +horrible creature in salmon-pink. I'm not asking you who she is. +I'm not questioning you about your relations with her at all. I +don't care who she was. The mere fact that you were at a public +restaurant with a person of that kind is enough. No doubt you +think I am making a great deal of fuss about a very ordinary +thing. You consider that it is a man's privilege to do these +things, if he can do them without being found out. But it ended +everything so far as I am concerned. Am I unreasonable? I don't +think so. You steal off to America, thinking I am in England, and +behave like this. How could you do that if you really loved me? +It's the deceit of it that hurts me.' + +Lord Dawlish drew in a few breaths of pure Long Island air, but he +did not speak. He felt helpless. If he were to be allowed to +withdraw into the privacy of the study and wrap a cold, wet towel +about his forehead and buckle down to it, he knew that he could +draft an excellent and satisfactory explanation of his presence at +Reigelheimer's with the Good Sport. But to do it on the spur of +the moment like this was beyond him. + +Claire was speaking again. She had paused for a while after her +recent speech, in order to think of something else to say; and +during this pause had come to her mind certain excerpts from one +of those admirable articles on love, by Luella Delia Philpotts, +which do so much to boost the reading public of the United States +into the higher planes. She had read it that afternoon in the +Sunday paper, and it came back to her now. + +'I may be hypersensitive,' she said, dropping her voice from the +accusatory register to the lower tones of pathos, 'but I have such +high ideals of love. There can be no true love where there is not +perfect trust. Trust is to love what--' + +She paused again. She could not remember just what Luella Delia +Philpotts had said trust was to love. It was something extremely +neat, but it had slipped her memory. + +'A woman has the right to expect the man she is about to marry to +regard their troth as a sacred obligation that shall keep him as +pure as a young knight who has dedicated himself to the quest of +the Holy Grail. And I find you in a public restaurant, dancing +with a creature with yellow hair, upsetting waiters, and +staggering about with pats of butter all over you.' + +Here a sense of injustice stung Lord Dawlish. It was true that +after his regrettable collision with Heinrich, the waiter, he had +discovered butter upon his person, but it was only one pat. Claire +had spoken as if he had been festooned with butter. + +'I am not angry with you, only disappointed. What has happened has +shown me that you do not really love me, not as I think of love. +Oh, I know that when we are together you think you do, but absence +is the test. Absence is the acid-test of love that separates the +base metal from the true. After what has happened, we can't go on +with our engagement. It would be farcical. I could never feel that +way toward you again. We shall always be friends, I hope. But as +for love--love is not a machine. It cannot be shattered and put +together again.' + +She turned and began to walk up the drive. Hanging over the top of +the gate like a wet sock, Lord Dawlish watched her go. The +interview was over, and he could not think of one single thing to +say. Her white dress made a patch of light in the shadows. She +moved slowly, as if weighed down by sad thoughts, like one who, as +Luella Delia Philpotts beautifully puts it, paces with measured +step behind the coffin of a murdered heart. The bend of the drive +hid her from his sight. + +About twenty minutes later Dudley Pickering, smoking sentimentally +in the darkness hard by the porch, received a shock. He was musing +tenderly on his Claire, who was assisting him in the process by +singing in the drawing-room, when he was aware of a figure, the +sinister figure of a man who, pressed against the netting of the +porch, stared into the lighted room beyond. + +Dudley Pickering's first impulse was to stride briskly up to the +intruder, tap him on the shoulder, and ask him what the devil he +wanted; but a second look showed him that the other was built on +too ample a scale to make this advisable. He was a large, +fit-looking intruder. + +Mr Pickering was alarmed. There had been the usual epidemic of +burglaries that season. Houses had been broken into, valuable +possessions removed. In one case a negro butler had been struck +over the head with a gas-pipe and given a headache. In these +circumstances, it was unpleasant to find burly strangers looking +in at windows. + +'Hi!' cried Mr Pickering. + +The intruder leaped a foot. It had not occurred to Lord Dawlish, +when in an access of wistful yearning he had decided to sneak up +to the house in order to increase his anguish by one last glimpse +of Claire, that other members of the household might be out in the +grounds. He was just thinking sorrowfully, as he listened to the +music, how like his own position was to that of the hero of +Tennyson's _Maud_--a poem to which he was greatly addicted, +when Mr Pickering's 'Hi!' came out of nowhere and hit him like a +torpedo. + +He turned in agitation. Mr Pickering having prudently elected to +stay in the shadows, there was no one to be seen. It was as if the +voice of conscience had shouted 'Hi!' at him. He was just +wondering if he had imagined the whole thing, when he perceived +the red glow of a cigar and beyond it a shadowy form. + +It was not the fact that he was in an equivocal position, staring +into a house which did not belong to him, with his feet on +somebody else's private soil, that caused Bill to act as he did. +It was the fact that at that moment he was not feeling equal to +conversation with anybody on any subject whatsoever. It did not +occur to him that his behaviour might strike a nervous stranger as +suspicious. All he aimed at was the swift removal of himself from +a spot infested by others of his species. He ran, and Mr +Pickering, having followed him with the eye of fear, went rather +shakily into the house, his brain whirling with professional +cracksmen and gas pipes and assaulted butlers, to relate his +adventure. + +'A great, hulking, ruffianly sort of fellow glaring in at the +window,' said Mr Pickering. 'I shouted at him and he ran like a +rabbit.' + +'Gee! Must have been one of the gang that's been working down +here,' said Roscoe Sherriff. 'There might be a quarter of a column +in that, properly worked, but I guess I'd better wait until he +actually does bust the place.' + +'We must notify the police!' + +'Notify the police, and have them butt in and stop the thing and +kill a good story!' There was honest amazement in the Press-agent's +voice. 'Let me tell you, it isn't so easy to get publicity +these days that you want to go out of your way to stop it!' + +Mr Pickering was appalled. A dislike of this man, which had grown +less vivid since his scene with Claire, returned to him with +redoubled force. + +'Why, we may all be murdered in our beds!' he cried. + +'Front-page stuff!' said Roscoe Sherriff, with gleaming eyes. 'And +three columns at least. Fine!' + +It might have consoled Lord Dawlish somewhat, as he lay awake +that night, to have known that the man who had taken Claire from +him--though at present he was not aware of such a man's +existence--also slept ill. + + + + +13 + + +Lady Wetherby sat in her room, writing letters. The rest of the +household were variously employed. Roscoe Sherriff was prowling +about the house, brooding on campaigns of publicity. Dudley +Pickering was walking in the grounds with Claire. In a little +shack in the woods that adjoined the high-road, which he had +converted into a temporary studio, Lord Wetherby was working on a +picture which he proposed to call 'Innocence', a study of a small +Italian child he had discovered in Washington Square. Lady +Wetherby, who had been taken to see the picture, had suggested +'The Black Hand's Newest Recruit' as a better title than the one +selected by the artist. + +It is a fact to be noted that of the entire household only Lady +Wetherby could fairly be described as happy. It took very little to +make Lady Wetherby happy. Fine weather, good food, and a complete +abstention from classical dancing--give her these and she asked no +more. She was, moreover, delighted at Claire's engagement. It +seemed to her, for she had no knowledge of the existence of Lord +Dawlish, a genuine manifestation of Love's Young Dream. She liked +Dudley Pickering and she was devoted to Claire. It made her happy +to think that it was she who had brought them together. + +But of the other members of the party, Dudley Pickering was +unhappy because he feared that burglars were about to raid the +house; Roscoe Sherriff because he feared they were not; Claire +because, now that the news of the engagement was out, it seemed to +be everybody's aim to leave her alone with Mr Pickering, whose +undiluted society tended to pall. And Lord Wetherby was unhappy +because he found Eustace, the monkey, a perpetual strain upon his +artistic nerves. It was Eustace who had driven him to his shack in +the woods. He could have painted far more comfortably in the +house, but Eustace had developed a habit of stealing up to him and +plucking the leg of his trousers; and an artist simply cannot give +of his best with that sort of thing going on. + +Lady Wetherby wrote on. She was not fond of letter-writing and she +had allowed her correspondence to accumulate; but she was +disposing of it in an energetic and conscientious way, when the +entrance of Wrench, the butler, interrupted her. + +Wrench had been imported from England at the request of Lord +Wetherby, who had said that it soothed him and kept him from +feeling home-sick to see a butler about the place. Since then he +had been hanging to the establishment as it were by a hair. He +gave the impression of being always on the point of giving notice. +There were so many things connected with his position of which he +disapproved. He had made no official pronouncement of the matter, +but Lady Wetherby knew that he disapproved of her classical +dancing. His last position had been with the Dowager Duchess of +Waveney, the well-known political hostess, who--even had the +somewhat generous lines on which she was built not prevented the +possibility of such a thing--would have perished rather than dance +barefooted in a public restaurant. Wrench also disapproved of +America. That fact had been made plain immediately upon his +arrival in the country. He had given America one look, and then +his mind was made up--he disapproved of it. + +'If you please, m'lady!' + +Lady Wetherby turned. The butler was looking even more than +usually disapproving, and his disapproval had, so to speak, +crystallized, as if it had found some more concrete and definite +objective than either barefoot dancing or the United States. + +'If you please, m'lady--the hape!' + +It was Wrench's custom to speak of Eustace in a tone of restrained +disgust. He disapproved of Eustace. The Dowager Duchess of +Waveney, though she kept open house for members of Parliament, +would have drawn the line at monkeys. + +'The hape is behaving very strange, m'lady,' said Wrench, +frostily. + +It has been well said that in this world there is always +something. A moment before, Lady Wetherby had been feeling +completely contented, without a care on her horizon. It was +foolish of her to have expected such a state of things to last, +for what is life but a series of sharp corners, round each of +which Fate lies in wait for us with a stuffed eel-skin? Something +in the butler's manner, a sort of gloating gloom which he +radiated, told her that she had arrived at one of these corners +now. + +'The hape is seated on the kitchen-sink, m'lady, throwing new-laid +eggs at the scullery-maid, and cook desired me to step up and ask +for instructions.' + +'What!' Lady Wetherby rose in agitation. 'What's he doing that +for?' she asked, weakly. + +A slight, dignified gesture was Wrench's only reply. It was not +his place to analyse the motives of monkeys. + +'Throwing eggs!' + +The sight of Lady Wetherby's distress melted the butler's stern +reserve. He unbent so far as to supply a clue. + +'As I understand from cook, m'lady, the animal appears to have +taken umbrage at a lack of cordiality on the part of the cat. It +seems that the hape attempted to fondle the cat, but the latter +scratched him; being suspicious,' said Wrench, 'of his _bona +fides_.' He scrutinized the ceiling with a dull eye. 'Whereupon,' +he continued, 'he seized her tail and threw her with considerable +force. He then removed himself to the sink and began to hurl eggs +at the scullery-maid.' + +Lady Wetherby's mental eye attempted to produce a picture of the +scene, but failed. + +'I suppose I had better go down and see about it,' she said. + +Wrench withdrew his gaze from the ceiling. + +'I think it would be advisable, m'lady. The scullery-maid is +already in hysterics.' + +Lady Wetherby led the way to the kitchen. She was wroth with +Eustace. This was just the sort of thing out of which Algie would +be able to make unlimited capital. It weakened her position with +Algie. There was only one thing to do--she must hush it up. + +Her first glance, however, at the actual theatre of war gave her +the impression that matters had advanced beyond the hushing-up +stage. A yellow desolation brooded over the kitchen. It was not so +much a kitchen as an omelette. There were eggs everywhere, from +floor to ceiling. She crunched her way in on a carpet of oozing +shells. + +Her entry was a signal for a renewal on a more impressive scale of +the uproar that she had heard while opening the door. The air was +full of voices. The cook was expressing herself in Norwegian, the +parlour-maid in what appeared to be Erse. On a chair in a corner +the scullery-maid sobbed and whooped. The odd-job man, who was a +baseball enthusiast, was speaking in terms of high praise of +Eustace's combined speed and control. + +The only calm occupant of the room was Eustace himself, who, +either through a shortage of ammunition or through weariness of +the pitching-arm, had suspended active hostilities, and was now +looking down on the scene from a high shelf. There was a brooding +expression in his deep-set eyes. He massaged his right ear with +the sole of his left foot in a somewhat _distrait_ manner. + +'Eustace!' cried Lady Wetherby, severely. + +Eustace lowered his foot and gazed at her meditatively, then at +the odd-job man, then at the scullery-maid, whose voice rose high +above the din. + +'I rather fancy, m'lady,' said Wrench, dispassionately, 'that the +animal is about to hurl a plate.' + +It had escaped the notice of those present that the shelf on which +the rioter had taken refuge was within comfortable reach of the +dresser, but Eustace himself had not overlooked this important +strategic point. As the butler spoke, Eustace picked up a plate +and threw it at the scullery-maid, whom he seemed definitely to +have picked out as the most hostile of the allies. It was a fast +inshoot, and hit the wall just above her head. + +''At-a-boy!' said the odd-job man, reverently. + +Lady Wetherby turned on him with some violence. His detached +attitude was the most irritating of the many irritating aspects of +the situation. She paid this man a weekly wage to do odd jobs. The +capture of Eustace was essentially an odd job. Yet, instead of +doing it, he hung about with the air of one who has paid his +half-dollar and bought his bag of peanuts and has now nothing to +do but look on and enjoy himself. + +'Why don't you catch him?' she cried. + +The odd-job man came out of his trance. A sudden realization came +upon him that life was real and life was earnest, and that if he +did not wish to jeopardize a good situation he must bestir +himself. Everybody was looking at him expectantly. It seemed to be +definitely up to him. It was imperative that, whatever he did, he +should do it quickly. There was an apron hanging over the back of +a chair. More with the idea of doing something than because he +thought he would achieve anything definite thereby, he picked up +the apron and flung it at Eustace. Luck was with him. The apron +enveloped Eustace just as he was winding up for another inshoot +and was off his balance. He tripped and fell, clutched at the +apron to save himself, and came to the ground swathed in it, +giving the effect of an apron mysteriously endowed with life. The +triumphant odd-job man, pressing his advantage like a good +general, gathered up the ends, converted it into a rude bag, and +one more was added to the long list of the victories of the human +over the brute intelligence. + +Everybody had a suggestion now. The cook advocated drowning. The +parlour-maid favoured the idea of hitting the prisoner with a +broom-handle. Wrench, eyeing the struggling apron disapprovingly, +mentioned that Mr Pickering had bought a revolver that morning. + +'Put him in the coal-cellar,' said Lady Wetherby. + +Wrench was more far-seeing. + +'If I might offer the warning, m'lady,' said Wrench, 'not the +cellar. It is full of coal. It would be placing temptation in the +animal's way.' + +The odd-job man endorsed this. + +'Put him in the garage, then,' said Lady Wetherby. + +The odd-job man departed, bearing his heaving bag at arm's length. +The cook and the parlour-maid addressed themselves to comforting +and healing the scullery-maid. Wrench went off to polish silver, +Lady Wetherby to resume her letters. The cat was the last of the +party to return to the normal. She came down from the chimney an +hour later covered with soot, demanding restoratives. + +Lady Wetherby finished her letters. She cut them short, for +Eustace's insurgence had interfered with her flow of ideas. She +went into the drawing-room, where she found Roscoe Sherriff +strumming on the piano. + +'Eustace has been raising Cain,' she said. + +The Press-agent looked up hopefully. He had been wearing a rather +preoccupied air. + +'How's that?' he asked. + +'Throwing eggs and plates in the kitchen.' + +The gleam of interest which had come into Roscoe Sherriff's face +died out. + +'You couldn't get more than a fill-in at the bottom of a column on +that,' he said, regretfully. 'I'm a little disappointed in that +monk. I hoped he would pan out bigger. Well, I guess we've just +got to give him time. I have an idea that he'll set the house on +fire or do something with a punch like that one of these days. You +mustn't get discouraged. Why, that puma I made Valerie Devenish +keep looked like a perfect failure for four whole months. A child +could have played with it. Miss Devenish called me up on the +phone, I remember, and said she was darned if she was going to +spend the rest of her life maintaining an animal that might as +well be stuffed for all the liveliness it showed, and that she was +going right out to buy a white mouse instead. Fortunately, I +talked her round. + +'A few weeks later she came round and thanked me with tears in her +eyes. The puma had suddenly struck real mid-season form. It clawed +the elevator-boy, bit a postman, held up the traffic for miles, +and was finally shot by a policeman. Why, for the next few days +there was nothing in the papers at all but Miss Devenish and her +puma. There was a war on at the time in Mexico or somewhere, and +we had it backed off the front page so far that it was over before +it could get back. So, you see, there's always hope. I've been +nursing the papers with bits about Eustace, so as to be ready for +the grand-stand play when it comes--and all we can do is to wait. +It's something if he's been throwing eggs. It shows he's waking +up.' + +The door opened and Lord Wetherby entered. He looked fatigued. He +sank into a chair and sighed. + +'I cannot get it,' he said. 'It eludes me.' + +He lapsed into a sombre silence. + +'What can't you get?' said Lady Wetherby, cautiously. + +'The expression--the expression I want to get into the child's +eyes in my picture, "Innocence".' + +'But you have got it.' + +Lord Wetherby shook his head. + +'Well, you had when I saw the picture,' persisted Lady Wetherby. +'This child you're painting has just joined the Black Hand. He +has been rushed in young over the heads of the waiting list +because his father had a pull. Naturally the kid wants to do +something to justify his election, and he wants to do it quick. +You have caught him at the moment when he sees an old gentleman +coming down the street and realizes that he has only got to sneak +up and stick his little knife--' + +'My dear Polly, I welcome criticism, but this is more--' + +Lady Wetherby stroked his coat-sleeve fondly. + +'Never mind, Algie, I was only joking, precious. I thought the +picture was coming along fine when you showed it to me. I'll come +and take another look at it.' + +Lord Wetherby shook his head. + +'I should have a model. An artist cannot mirror Nature properly +without a model. I wish you would invite that child down here.' + +'No, Algie, there are limits. I wouldn't have him within a mile +of the place.' + +'Yet you keep Eustace.' + +'Well, you made me engage Wrench. It's fifty-fifty. I wish you +wouldn't keep picking on Eustace, Algie dear. He does no harm. Mr +Sherriff and I were just saying how peaceable he is. He wouldn't +hurt--' + +Claire came in. + +'Polly,' she said, 'did you put that monkey of yours in the +garage? He's just bitten Dudley in the leg.' + +Lord Wetherby uttered an exclamation. + +'Now perhaps--' + +'We went in just now to have a look at the car,' continued +Claire. 'Dudley wanted to show me the commutator on the exhaust-box +or the windscreen, or something, and he was just bending over +when Eustace jumped out from nowhere and pinned him. I'm afraid he +has taken it to heart rather.' + +Roscoe Sherriff pondered. + +'Is this worth half a column?' He shook his head. 'No, I'm afraid +not. The public doesn't know Pickering. If it had been Charlie +Chaplin or William J. Bryan, or someone on those lines, we could +have had the papers bringing out extras. You can visualize William +J. Bryan being bitten in the leg by a monkey. It hits you. But +Pickering! Eustace might just as well have bitten the leg of the +table!' + +Lord Wetherby reasserted himself. + +'Now that the animal has become a public menace--' + +'He's nothing of the kind,' said Lady Wetherby. 'He's only a +little upset to-day.' + +'Do you mean, Pauline, that even after this you will not get rid +of him?' + +'Certainly not--poor dear!' + +'Very well,' said Lord Wetherby, calmly. 'I give you warning that +if he attacks me I shall defend myself.' + +He brooded. Lady Wetherby turned to Claire. + +'What happened then? Did you shut the door of the garage?' + +'Yes, but not until Eustace had got away. He slipped out like a +streak and disappeared. It was too dark to see which way he went.' + +Dudley Pickering limped heavily into the room. + +'I was just telling them about you and Eustace, Dudley.' + +Mr Pickering nodded moodily. He was too full for words. + +'I think Eustace must be mad,' said Claire. + +Roscoe Sherriff uttered a cry of rapture. + +'You've said it!' he exclaimed. 'I knew we should get action +sooner or later. It's the puma over again. Now we are all right. +Now I have something to work on. "Monkey Menaces Countryside." +"Long Island Summer Colony in Panic." "Mad Monkey Bites One--"' + +A convulsive shudder galvanized Mr Pickering's portly frame. + +'"Mad Monkey Terrorizes Long Island. One Dead!"' murmured Roscoe +Sherriff, wistfully. 'Do you feel a sort of shooting, Pickering--a +kind of burning sensation under the skin? Lady Wetherby, I guess +I'll be getting some of the papers on the phone. We've got a big +story.' + +He hurried to the telephone, but it was some little time before he +could use it. Dudley Pickering was in possession, talking +earnestly to the local doctor. + + + + +14 + + +It was Nutty Boyd's habit to retire immediately after dinner to +his bedroom. What he did there Elizabeth did not know. Sometimes +she pictured him reading, sometimes thinking. Neither supposition +was correct. Nutty never read. Newspapers bored him and books made +his head ache. And as for thinking, he had the wrong shape of +forehead. The nearest he ever got to meditation was a sort of +trance-like state, a kind of suspended animation in which his mind +drifted sluggishly like a log in a backwater. Nutty, it is +regrettable to say, went to his room after dinner for the purpose +of imbibing two or three surreptitious whiskies-and-sodas. + +He behaved in this way, he told himself, purely in order to spare +Elizabeth anxiety. There had been in the past a fool of a doctor +who had prescribed total abstinence for Nutty, and Elizabeth knew +this. Therefore, Nutty held, to take the mildest of drinks with +her knowledge would have been to fill her with fears for his +safety. So he went to considerable inconvenience to keep the +matter from her notice, and thought rather highly of himself for +doing so. + +It certainly was inconvenient--there was no doubt of that. It made +him feel like a cross between a hunted fawn and a burglar. But he +had to some extent diminished the possibility of surprise by +leaving his door open; and to-night he approached the cupboard +where he kept the materials for refreshment with a certain +confidence. He had left Elizabeth on the porch in a hammock, +apparently anchored for some time. Lord Dawlish was out in the +grounds somewhere. Presently he would come in and join Elizabeth +on the porch. The risk of interruption was negligible. + +Nutty mixed himself a drink and settled down to brood bitterly, as +he often did, on the doctor who had made that disastrous +statement. Doctors were always saying things like that--sweeping +things which nervous people took too literally. It was true that +he had been in pretty bad shape at the moment when the words had +been spoken. It was just at the end of his Broadway career, when, +as he handsomely admitted, there was a certain amount of truth in +the opinion that his interior needed a vacation. But since then he +had been living in the country, breathing good air, taking things +easy. In these altered conditions and after this lapse of time it +was absurd to imagine that a moderate amount of alcohol could do +him any harm. + +It hadn't done him any harm, that was the point. He had tested the +doctor's statement and found it incorrect. He had spent three +hectic days and nights in New York, and--after a reasonable +interval--had felt much the same as usual. And since then he had +imbibed each night, and nothing had happened. What it came to was +that the doctor was a chump and a blighter. Simply that and +nothing more. + +Having come to this decision, Nutty mixed another drink. He went +to the head of the stairs and listened. He heard nothing. He +returned to his room. + +Yes, that was it, the doctor was a chump. So far from doing him +any harm, these nightly potations brightened Nutty up, gave him +heart, and enabled him to endure life in this hole of a place. He +felt a certain scornful amusement. Doctors, he supposed, had to +get off that sort of talk to earn their money. + +He reached out for the bottle, and as he grasped it his eye was +caught by something on the floor. A brown monkey with a long, grey +tail was sitting there staring at him. + +There was one of those painful pauses. Nutty looked at the monkey +rather like an elongated Macbeth inspecting the ghost of Banquo. +The monkey looked at Nutty. The pause continued. Nutty shut his +eyes, counted ten slowly, and opened them. + +The monkey was still there. + +'Boo!' said Nutty, in an apprehensive undertone. + +The monkey looked at him. + +Nutty shut his eyes again. He would count sixty this time. A cold +fear had laid its clammy fingers on his heart. This was what that +doctor--not such a chump after all--must have meant! + +Nutty began to count. There seemed to be a heavy lump inside him, +and his mouth was dry; but otherwise he felt all right. That was +the gruesome part of it--this dreadful thing had come upon him at +a moment when he could have sworn that he was sound as a bell. If +this had happened in the days when he ranged the Great White Way, +sucking up deleterious moisture like a cloud, it would have been +intelligible. But it had sneaked upon him like a thief in the +night; it had stolen unheralded into his life when he had +practically reformed. What was the good of practically reforming +if this sort of thing was going to happen to one? + +'... Fifty-nine ... sixty.' + +He opened his eyes. The monkey was still there, in precisely the +same attitude, as if it was sitting for its portrait. Panic surged +upon Nutty. He lost his head completely. He uttered a wild yell +and threw the bottle at the apparition. + +Life had not been treating Eustace well that evening. He seemed to +have happened upon one of those days when everything goes wrong. +The cat had scratched him, the odd-job man had swathed him in an +apron, and now this stranger, in whom he had found at first a +pleasant restfulness, soothing after the recent scenes of violence +in which he had participated, did this to him. He dodged the +missile and clambered on to the top of the wardrobe. It was his +instinct in times of stress to seek the high spots. And then +Elizabeth hurried into the room. + +Elizabeth had been lying in the hammock on the porch when her +brother's yell had broken forth. It was a lovely, calm, moonlight +night, and she had been revelling in the peace of it, when +suddenly this outcry from above had shot her out of her hammock +like an explosion. She ran upstairs, fearing she knew not what. +She found Nutty sitting on the bed, looking like an overwrought +giraffe. + +'Whatever is the--?' she began; and then things began to impress +themselves on her senses. + +The bottle which Nutty had thrown at Eustace had missed the +latter, but it had hit the wall, and was now lying in many pieces +on the floor, and the air was heavy with the scent of it. The +remains seemed to leer at her with a kind of furtive swagger, +after the manner of broken bottles. A quick thrill of anger ran +through Elizabeth. She had always felt more like a mother to Nutty +than a sister, and now she would have liked to exercise the +maternal privilege of slapping him. + +'Nutty!' + +'I saw a monkey!' said her brother, hollowly. 'I was standing over +there and I saw a monkey! Of course, it wasn't there really. I +flung the bottle at it, and it seemed to climb on to that +wardrobe.' + +'This wardrobe?' + +'Yes.' + +Elizabeth struck it a resounding blow with the palm of her hand, +and Eustace's face popped over the edge, peering down anxiously. +'I can see it now,' said Nutty. A sudden, faint hope came to him. +'Can you see it?' he asked. + +Elizabeth did not speak for a moment. This was an unusual +situation, and she was wondering how to treat it. She was sorry +for Nutty, but Providence had sent this thing and it would be +foolish to reject it. She must look on herself in the light of a +doctor. It would be kinder to Nutty in the end. She had the +feminine aversion from the lie deliberate. Her ethics on the +_suggestio falsi_ were weak. She looked at Nutty questioningly. + +'See it?' she said. + +'Don't you see a monkey on the top of the wardrobe?' said Nutty, +becoming more definite. + +'There's a sort of bit of wood sticking out--' + +Nutty sighed. + +'No, not that. You didn't see it. I don't think you would.' + +He spoke so dejectedly that for a moment Elizabeth weakened, but +only for an instant. + +'Tell me all about this, Nutty,' she said. + +Nutty was beyond the desire for evasion and concealment. His one +wish was to tell. He told all. + +'But, Nutty, how silly of you!' + +'Yes.' + +'After what the doctor said.' + +'I know.' + +'You remember his telling you--' + +'I know. Never again!' + +'What do you mean?' + +'I quit. I'm going to give it up.' + +Elizabeth embraced him maternally. + +'That's a good child!' she said. 'You really promise?' + +'I don't have to promise, I'm just going to do it.' + +Elizabeth compromised with her conscience by becoming soothing. + +'You know, this isn't so very serious, Nutty, darling. I mean, +it's just a warning.' + +'It's warned me all right.' + +'You will be perfectly all right if--' + +Nutty interrupted her. + +'You're sure you can't see anything?' + +'See what?' + +Nutty's voice became almost apologetic. + +'I know it's just imagination, but the monkey seems to me to be +climbing down from the wardrobe.' + +'I can't see anything climbing down the wardrobe,' said Elizabeth, +as Eustace touched the floor. + +'It's come down now. It's crossing the carpet.' + +'Where?' + +'It's gone now. It went out of the door.' + +'Oh!' + +'I say, Elizabeth, what do you think I ought to do?' + +'I should go to bed and have a nice long sleep, and you'll feel--' + +'Somehow I don't feel much like going to bed. This sort of thing +upsets a chap, you know.' + +'Poor dear!' + +'I think I'll go for a long walk.' + +'That's a splendid idea.' + +'I think I'd better do a good lot of walking from now on. Didn't +Chalmers bring down some Indian clubs with him? I think I'll +borrow them. I ought to keep out in the open a lot, I think. I +wonder if there's any special diet I ought to have. Well, anyway, +I'll be going for that walk.' + +At the foot of the stairs Nutty stopped. He looked quickly into +the porch, then looked away again. + +'What's the matter?' asked Elizabeth. + +'I thought for a moment I saw the monkey sitting on the hammock.' + +He went out of the house and disappeared from view down the drive, +walking with long, rapid strides. + +Elizabeth's first act, when he had gone, was to fetch a banana +from the ice-box. Her knowledge of monkeys was slight, but she +fancied they looked with favour on bananas. It was her intention +to conciliate Eustace. + +She had placed Eustace by now. Unlike Nutty, she read the papers, +and she knew all about Lady Wetherby and her pets. The fact that +Lady Wetherby, as she had been informed by the grocer in friendly +talk, had rented a summer house in the neighbourhood made +Eustace's identity positive. + +She had no very clear plans as to what she intended to do with +Eustace, beyond being quite resolved that she was going to board +and lodge him for a few days. Nutty had had the jolt he needed, +but it might be that the first freshness of it would wear away, in +which event it would be convenient to have Eustace on the +premises. She regarded Eustace as a sort of medicine. A second +dose might not be necessary, but it was as well to have the +mixture handy. She took another banana, in case the first might +not be sufficient. She then returned to the porch. + +Eustace was sitting on the hammock, brooding. The complexities of +life were weighing him down a good deal. He was not aware of +Elizabeth's presence until he found her standing by him. He had +just braced himself for flight, when he perceived that she bore +rich gifts. + +Eustace was always ready for a light snack--readier now than +usual, for air and exercise had sharpened his appetite. He took +the banana in a detached manner, as it to convey the idea that it +did not commit him to any particular course of conduct. It was a +good banana, and he stretched out a hand for the other. Elizabeth +sat down beside him, but he did not move. He was convinced now of +her good intentions. It was thus that Lord Dawlish found them when +he came in from the garden. + +'Where has your brother gone to?' he asked. 'He passed me just now +at eight miles an hour. Great Scot! What's that?' + +'It's a monkey. Don't frighten him; he's rather nervous.' + +She tickled Eustace under the ear, for their relations were now +friendly. + +'Nutty went for a walk because he thought he saw it.' + +'Thought he saw it?' + +'Thought he saw it,' repeated Elizabeth, firmly. 'Will you +remember, Mr Chalmers, that, as far as he is concerned, this +monkey has no existence?' + +'I don't understand.' + +Elizabeth explained. + +'You see now?' + +'I see. But how long are you going to keep the animal?' + +'Just a day or two--in case.' + +'Where are you going to keep it?' + +'In the outhouse. Nutty never goes there, it's too near the +bee-hives.' + +'I suppose you don't know who the owner is?' + +'Yes, I do; it must be Lady Wetherby.' + +'Lady Wetherby!' + +'She's a woman who dances at one of the restaurants. I read in a +Sunday paper about her monkey. She has just taken a house near +here. I don't see who else the animal could belong to. Monkeys are +rarities on Long Island.' + +Bill was silent. 'Sudden a thought came like a full-blown rose, +flushing his brow.' For days he had been trying to find an excuse +for calling on Lady Wetherby as a first step toward meeting Claire +again. Here it was. There would be no need to interfere with +Elizabeth's plans. He would be vague. He would say he had just +seen the runaway, but would not add where. He would create an +atmosphere of helpful sympathy. Perhaps, later on, Elizabeth would +let him take the monkey back. + +'What are you thinking about?' asked Elizabeth. + +'Oh, nothing,' said Bill. + +'Perhaps we had better stow away our visitor for the night.' + +'Yes.' + +Elizabeth got up. + +'Poor, dear Nutty may be coming back at any moment now,' she said. + +But poor, dear Nutty did not return for a full two hours. When he +did he was dusty and tired, but almost cheerful. + +'I didn't see the brute once all the time I was out,' he told +Elizabeth. 'Not once!' + +Elizabeth kissed him fondly and offered to heat water for a bath; +but Nutty said he would take it cold. From now on, he vowed, +nothing but cold baths. He conveyed the impression of being a +blend of repentant sinner and hardy Norseman. Before he went to +bed he approached Bill on the subject of Indian clubs. + +'I want to get myself into shape, old top,' he said. + +'Yes?' + +'I've got to cut it out--to-night I thought I saw a monkey.' + +'Really?' + +'As plain as I see you now.' Nutty gave the clubs a tentative +swing. 'What do you do with these darned things? Swing them about +and all that? All right, I see the idea. Good night.' + +But Bill did not pass a good night. He lay awake long, thinking +over his plans for the morrow. + + + + +15 + + +Lady Wetherby was feeling battered. She had not realized how +seriously Roscoe Sherriff took the art of publicity, nor what +would be the result of the half-hour he had spent at the telephone +on the night of the departure of Eustace. + +Roscoe Sherriff's eloquence had fired the imagination of editors. +There had been a notable lack of interesting happenings this +summer. Nobody seemed to be striking or murdering or having +violent accidents. The universe was torpid. In these circumstances, +the escape of Eustace seemed to present possibilities. Reporters +had been sent down. There were three of them living in the house +now, and Wrench's air of disapproval was deepening every hour. + +It was their strenuousness which had given Lady Wetherby that +battered feeling. There was strenuousness in the air, and she +resented it on her vacation. She had come to Long Island to +vegetate, and with all this going on round her vegetation was +impossible. She was not long alone. Wrench entered. + +'A gentleman to see you, m'lady.' + +In the good old days, when she had been plain Polly Davis, of the +personnel of the chorus of various musical comedies, Lady Wetherby +would have suggested a short way of disposing of this untimely +visitor; but she had a position to keep up now. + +'From some darned paper?' she asked, wearily. + +'No, m'lady. I fancy he is not connected with the Press.' + +There was something in Wrench's manner that perplexed Lady +Wetherby, something almost human, as if Wrench were on the point +of coming alive. She did not guess it, but the explanation was +that Bill, quite unwittingly, had impressed Wrench. There was that +about Bill that reminded the butler of London and dignified +receptions at the house of the Dowager Duchess of Waveney. It was +deep calling unto deep. + +'Where is he?' + +'I have shown him into the drawing-room, m'lady.' + +Lady Wetherby went downstairs and found a large young man awaiting +her, looking nervous. + +Bill was feeling nervous. A sense of the ridiculousness of his +mission had come upon him. After all, he asked himself, what on +earth had he got to say? A presentiment had come upon him that he +was about to look a perfect ass. At the sight of Lady Wetherby his +nervousness began to diminish. Lady Wetherby was not a formidable +person. In spite of her momentary peevishness, she brought with +her an atmosphere of geniality and camaraderie. + +'It's about your monkey,' he said, coming to the point at once. + +Lady Wetherby brightened. + +'Oh! Have you seen it?' + +He was glad that she put it like that. + +'Yes. It came round our way last night.' + +'Where is that?' + +'I am staying at a farm near here, a place they call Flack's. The +monkey got into one of the rooms.' + +'Yes?' + +'And then--er--then it got out again, don't you know.' + +Lady Wetherby looked disappointed. + +'So it may be anywhere now?' she said. + +In the interests of truth, Bill thought it best to leave this +question unanswered. + +'Well, it's very good of you to have bothered to come out and tell +me,' said Lady Wetherby. 'It gives us a clue, at any rate. Thank +you. At least, we know now in which direction it went.' + +There was a pause. Bill gathered that the other was looking on the +interview as terminated, and that she was expecting him to go, and +he had not begun to say what he wanted to say. He tried to think +of a way of introducing the subject of Claire that should not seem +too abrupt. + +'Er--' he said. + +'Well?' said Lady Wetherby, simultaneously. + +'I beg your pardon.' + +'You have the floor,' said Lady Wetherby. 'Shoot!' + +It was not what she had intended to say. For months she had been +trying to get out of the habit of saying that sort of thing, but +she still suffered relapses. Only the other day she had told +Wrench to check some domestic problem or other with his hat, and +he had nearly given notice. But if she had been intending to put +Bill at his ease she could not have said anything better. + +'You have a Miss Fenwick staying with you, haven't you?' he said. + +Lady Wetherby beamed. + +'Do you know Claire?' + +'Yes, rather!' + +'She's my best friend. We used to be in the same company when I +was in England.' + +'So she has told me.' + +'She was my bridesmaid when I married Lord Wetherby.' + +'Yes.' + +Lady Wetherby was feeling perfectly happy now, and when Lady +Wetherby felt happy she always became garrulous. She was one of +those people who are incapable of looking on anybody as a stranger +after five minutes' acquaintance. Already she had begun to regard +Bill as an old friend. + +'Those were great days,' she said, cheerfully. 'None of us had a +bean, and Algie was the hardest up of the whole bunch. After we +were married we went to the Savoy for the wedding-breakfast, and +when it was over and the waiter came with the check, Algie said he +was sorry, but he had had a bad week at Lincoln and hadn't the +price on him. He tried to touch me, but I passed. Then he had a go +at the best man, but the best man had nothing in the world but one +suit of clothes and a spare collar. Claire was broke, too, so the +end of it was that the best man had to sneak out and pawn my watch +and the wedding-ring.' + +The room rang with her reminiscent laughter, Bill supplying a bass +accompaniment. Bill was delighted. He had never hoped that it +would be granted to him to become so rapidly intimate with +Claire's hostess. Why, he had only to keep the conversation in +this chummy vein for a little while longer and she would give him +the run of the house. + +'Miss Fenwick isn't in now, I suppose?' he asked. + +'No, Claire's out with Dudley Pickering. You don't know him, do +you?' + +'No.' + +'She's engaged to him.' + +It is an ironical fact that Lady Wetherby was by nature one of the +firmest believers in existence in the policy of breaking things +gently to people. She had a big, soft heart, and she hated hurting +her fellows. As a rule, when she had bad news to impart to any one +she administered the blow so gradually and with such mystery as to +the actual facts that the victim, having passed through the +various stages of imagined horrors, was genuinely relieved, when +she actually came to the point, to find that all that had happened +was that he had lost all his money. But now in perfect innocence, +thinking only to pass along an interesting bit of information, she +had crushed Bill as effectively as if she had used a club for that +purpose. + +'I'm tickled to death about it,' she went on, as it were over her +hearer's prostrate body. It was I who brought them together, you +know. I wrote telling Claire to come out here on the _Atlantic,_ +knowing that Dudley was sailing on that boat. I had an idea they +would hit it off together. Dudley fell for her right away, and she +must have fallen for him, for they had only known each other +for a few weeks when they came and told me they were engaged. +It happened last Sunday.' + +'Last Sunday!' + +It had seemed to Bill a moment before that he would never again be +capable of speech, but this statement dragged the words out of +him. Last Sunday! Why, it was last Sunday that Claire had broken +off her engagement with him! + +'Last Sunday at nine o'clock in the evening, with a full moon +shining and soft music going on off-stage. Real third-act stuff.' + +Bill felt positively dizzy. He groped back in his memory for +facts. He had gone out for his walk after dinner. They had dined +at eight. He had been walking some time. Why, in Heaven's name, +this was the quickest thing in the amatory annals of civilization! +His brain was too numbed to work out a perfectly accurate +schedule, but it looked as if she must have got engaged to this +Pickering person before she met him, Bill, in the road that night. + +'It's a wonderful match for dear old Claire,' resumed Lady +Wetherby, twisting the knife in the wound with a happy unconsciousness. +'Dudley's not only a corking good fellow, but he has thirty million +dollars stuffed away in the stocking and a business that brings him +in a perfectly awful mess of money every year. He's the Pickering of +the Pickering automobiles, you know.' + +Bill got up. He stood for a moment holding to the back of his +chair before speaking. It was almost exactly thus that he had felt +in the days when he had gone in for boxing and had stopped +forceful swings with the more sensitive portions of his person. + +'That--that's splendid!' he said. 'I--I think I'll be going.' + +'I heard the car outside just now,' said Lady Wetherby. 'I think +it's probably Claire and Dudley come back. Won't you wait and see +her?' + +Bill shook his head. + +'Well, good-bye for the present, then. You must come round again. +Any friend of Claire's--and it was bully of you to bother about +looking in to tell of Eustace.' + +Bill had reached the door. He was about to turn the handle when +someone turned it on the other side. + +'Why, here is Dudley,' said Lady Wetherby. 'Dudley, this is a +friend of Claire's.' + +Dudley Pickering was one of those men who take the ceremony of +introduction with a measured solemnity. It was his practice to +grasp the party of the second part firmly by the hand, hold it, +look into his eyes in a reverent manner, and get off some little +speech of appreciation, short but full of feeling. The opening +part of this ceremony he performed now. He grasped Bill's hand +firmly, held it, and looked into his eyes. And then, having +performed his business, he fell down on his lines. Not a word +proceeded from him. He dropped the hand and stared at Bill +amazedly and--more than that--with fear. + +Bill, too, uttered no word. It was not one of those chatty +meetings. + +But if they were short on words, both Bill and Mr Pickering were +long on looks. Bill stared at Mr Pickering. Mr Pickering stared at +Bill. + +Bill was drinking in Mr Pickering. The stoutness of Mr Pickering--the +orderliness of Mr Pickering--the dullness of Mr Pickering--all these +things he perceived. And illumination broke upon him. + +Mr Pickering was drinking in Bill. The largeness of Bill--the +embarrassment of Bill--the obvious villainy of Bill--none of these +things escaped his notice. And illumination broke upon him also. + +For Dudley Pickering, in the first moment of their meeting, had +recognized Bill as the man who had been lurking in the grounds and +peering in at the window, the man at whom on the night when he had +become engaged to Claire he had shouted 'Hi!' + +'Where's Claire, Dudley?' asked Lady Wetherby. + +Mr Pickering withdrew his gaze reluctantly from Bill. + +'Gone upstairs.' + +I'll go and tell her that you're here, Mr--You never told me your +name.' + +Bill came to life with an almost acrobatic abruptness. There were +many things of which at that moment he felt absolutely incapable, +and meeting Claire was one of them. + +'No; I must be going,' he said, hurriedly. 'Good-bye.' + +He came very near running out of the room. Lady Wetherby regarded +the practically slammed door with wide eyes. + +'Quick exit of Nut Comedian!' she said. 'Whatever was the matter +with the man? He's scorched a trail in the carpet.' + +Mr Pickering was trembling violently. + +'Do you know who that was? He was the man!' said Mr Pickering. + +'What man?' + +'The man I caught looking in at the window that night!' + +'What nonsense! You must be mistaken. He said he knew Claire quite +well.' + +'But when you suggested that he should meet her he ran.' + +This aspect of the matter had not occurred to Lady Wetherby. + +'So he did!' + +'What did he tell you that showed he knew Claire?' + +'Well, now that I come to think of it, he didn't tell me anything. +I did the talking. He just sat there.' + +Mr Pickering quivered with combined fear and excitement and +inductive reasoning. + +'It was a trick!' he cried. 'Remember what Sherriff said that +night when I told you about finding the man looking in at the +window? He said that the fellow was spying round as a preliminary +move. To-day he trumps up an obviously false excuse for getting +into the house. Was he left alone in the rooms at all?' + +'Yes. Wrench loosed him in here and then came up to tell me.' + +'For several minutes, then, he was alone in the house. Why, he had +time to do all he wanted to do!' + +'Calm down!' + +'I am perfectly calm. But--' + +'You've been seeing too many crook plays, Dudley. A man isn't +necessarily a burglar because he wears a decent suit of clothes.' + +'Why was he lurking in the grounds that night?' + +'You're just imagining that it was the same man.' + +'I am absolutely positive it was the same man.' + +'Well, we can easily settle one thing about him, at any rate. Here +comes Claire. Claire, old girl,' she said, as the door opened, 'do +you know a man named--Darn it! I never got his name, but he's--' + +Claire stood in the doorway, looking from one to the other. + +'What's the matter, Dudley?' she said. + +'Dudley's gone clean up in the air,' explained Lady Wetherby, +tolerantly. 'A friend of yours called to tell me he had seen +Eustace--' + +'So that was his excuse, was it?' said Dudley Pickering. 'Did he +say where Eustace was?' + +'No; he said he had seen him; that was all' + +'An obviously trumped-up story. He had heard of Eustace's escape +and he knew that any story connected with him would be a passport +into the house.' + +Lady Wetherby turned to Claire. + +'You haven't told us yet if you know the man. He was a big, tall, +broad gazook,' said Lady Wetherby. 'Very English' + +'He faked the English,' said Dudley Pickering. 'That man was no +more an Englishman than I am.' + +'Be patient with him, Claire,' urged Lady Wetherby. 'He's been +going to the movies too much, and thinks every man who has had his +trousers pressed is a social gangster. This man was the most +English thing I've ever seen--talked like this.' + +She gave a passable reproduction of Bill's speech. Claire started. + +'I don't know him!' she cried. + +Her mind was in a whirl of agitation. Why had Bill come to the +house? What had he said? Had he told Dudley anything? + +'I don't recognize the description,' she said, quickly. 'I don't +know anything about him.' + +'There!' said Dudley Pickering, triumphantly. + +'It's queer,' said Lady Wetherby. 'You're sure you don't know him, +Claire?' + +'Absolutely sure.' + +'He said he was living at a place near here, called Flack's.' + +'I know the place,' said Dudley Pickering. 'A sinister, tumbledown +sort of place. Just where a bunch of crooks would be living.' + +'I thought it was a bee-farm,' said Lady Wetherby. 'One of the +tradesmen told me about it. I saw a most corkingly pretty girl +bicycling down to the village one morning, and they told me she +was named Boyd and kept a bee-farm at Flack's.' + +'A blind!' said Mr Pickering, stoutly. 'The girl's the man's +accomplice. It's quite easy to see the way they work. The girl +comes and settles in the place so that everybody knows her. That's +to lull suspicion. Then the man comes down for a visit and goes +about cleaning up the neighbouring houses. You can't get away from +the fact that this summer there have been half a dozen burglaries +down here, and nobody has found out who did them.' + +Lady Wetherby looked at him indulgently. + +'And now,' she said, 'having got us scared stiff, what are you +going to do about it?' + +'I am going,' he said, with determination, 'to take steps.' + +He went out quickly, the keen, tense man of affairs. + +'Bless him!' said Lady Wetherby. 'I'd no idea your Dudley had so +much imagination, Claire. He's a perfect bomb-shell.' + +Claire laughed shakily. + +'It is odd, though,' said Lady Wetherby, meditatively, 'that this +man should have said that he knew you, when you don't--' + +Claire turned impulsively. + +'Polly, I want to tell you something. Promise you won't tell +Dudley. I wasn't telling the truth just now. I do know this man. I +was engaged to him once.' + +'What!' + +'For goodness' sake don't tell Dudley!' + +'But--' + +'It's all over now; but I used to be engaged to him.' + +'Not when I was in England?' + +'No, after that.' + +'Then he didn't know you are engaged to Dudley now?' + +'N-no. I--I haven't seen him for a long time.' + +Lady Wetherby looked remorseful. + +'Poor man! I must have given him a jolt! But why didn't you tell +me about him before?' + +'Oh, I don't know.' + +'Oh, well, I'm not inquisitive. There's no rubber in my +composition. It's your affair.' + +'You won't tell Dudley?' + +'Of course not. But why not? You've nothing to be ashamed of.' + +'No; but--' + +'Well, I won't tell him, anyway. But I'm glad you told me about +him. Dudley was so eloquent about burglars that he almost had me +going. I wonder where he rushed off to?' + +Dudley Pickering had rushed off to his bedroom, and was examining +a revolver there. He examined it carefully, keenly. Preparedness +was Dudley Pickering's slogan. He looked rather like a stout +sheriff in a film drama. + + + + +16 + + +In the interesting land of India, where snakes abound and +scorpions are common objects of the wayside, a native who has had +the misfortune to be bitten by one of the latter pursues an +admirably common-sense plan. He does not stop to lament, nor does +he hang about analysing his emotions. He runs and runs and runs, +and keeps on running until he has worked the poison out of his +system. Not until then does he attempt introspection. + +Lord Dawlish, though ignorant of this fact, pursued almost +identically the same policy. He did not run on leaving Lady +Wetherby's house, but he took a very long and very rapid walk, +than which in times of stress there are few things of greater +medicinal value to the human mind. To increase the similarity, he +was conscious of a curious sense of being poisoned. He felt +stifled--in want of air. + +Bill was a simple young man, and he had a simple code of ethics. +Above all things he prized and admired and demanded from his +friends the quality of straightness. It was his one demand. He had +never actually had a criminal friend, but he was quite capable of +intimacy with even a criminal, provided only that there was +something spacious about his brand of crime and that it did not +involve anything mean or underhand. It was the fact that Mr +Breitstein whom Claire had wished him to insinuate into his club, +though acquitted of actual crime, had been proved guilty of +meanness and treachery, that had so prejudiced Bill against him. +The worst accusation that he could bring against a man was that he +was not square, that he had not played the game. + +Claire had not been square. It was that, more than the shock of +surprise of Lady Wetherby's news, that had sent him striding along +the State Road at the rate of five miles an hour, staring before +him with unseeing eyes. A sudden recollection of their last +interview brought a dull flush to Bill's face and accelerated his +speed. He felt physically ill. + +It was not immediately that he had arrived at even this sketchy +outline of his feelings. For perhaps a mile he walked as the +scorpion-stung natives run--blindly, wildly, with nothing in his +mind but a desire to walk faster and faster, to walk as no man had +ever walked before. And then--one does not wish to be unduly +realistic, but the fact is too important to be ignored--he began +to perspire. And hard upon that unrefined but wonder-working flow +came a certain healing of spirit. Dimly at first but every moment +more clearly, he found it possible to think. + +In a man of Bill's temperament there are so many qualities wounded +by a blow such as he had received, that it is hardly surprising +that his emotions, when he began to examine them, were mixed. Now +one, now another, of his wounds presented itself to his notice. +And then individual wounds would become difficult to distinguish +in the mass of injuries. Spiritually, he was in the position of a +man who has been hit simultaneously in a number of sensitive spots +by a variety of hard and hurtful things. He was as little able, +during the early stages of his meditations, to say where he was +hurt most as a man who had been stabbed in the back, bitten in the +ankle, hit in the eye, smitten with a blackjack, and kicked on the +shin in the same moment of time. All that such a man would be able +to say with certainty would be that unpleasant things had happened +to him; and that was all that Bill was able to say. + +Little by little, walking swiftly the while, he began to make a +rough inventory. He sorted out his injuries, catalogued them. It +was perhaps his self-esteem that had suffered least of all, for he +was by nature modest. He had a savage humility, valuable in a +crisis of this sort. + +But he looked up to Claire. He had thought her straight. And all +the time that she had been saying those things to him that night +of their last meeting she had been engaged to another man, a fat, +bald, doddering, senile fool, whose only merit was his money. +Scarcely a fair description of Mr Pickering, but in a man in +Bill's position a little bias is excusable. + +Bill walked on. He felt as if he could walk for ever. Automobiles +whirred past, hooting peevishly, but he heeded them not. Dogs +trotted out to exchange civilities, but he ignored them. The +poison in his blood drove him on. + +And then quite suddenly and unexpectedly the fever passed. Almost +in mid-stride he became another man, a healed, sane man, keenly +aware of a very vivid thirst and a desire to sit down and rest +before attempting the ten miles of cement road that lay between +him and home. Half an hour at a wayside inn completed the cure. It +was a weary but clear-headed Bill who trudged back through the +gathering dusk. + +He found himself thinking of Claire as of someone he had known +long ago, someone who had never touched his life. She seemed so +far away that he wondered how she could ever have affected him for +pain or pleasure. He looked at her across a chasm. This is the +real difference between love and infatuation, that infatuation +can be slain cleanly with a single blow. In the hour of clear +vision which had come to him, Bill saw that he had never loved +Claire. It was her beauty that had held him, that and the appeal +which her circumstances had made to his pity. Their minds had not +run smoothly together. Always there had been something that +jarred, a subtle antagonism. And she was crooked. + +Almost unconsciously his mind began to build up an image of the +ideal girl, the girl he would have liked Claire to be, the girl +who would conform to all that he demanded of woman. She would be +brave. He realized now that, even though it had moved his pity, +Claire's querulousness had offended something in him. + +He had made allowances for her, but the ideal girl would have had +no need of allowances. The ideal girl would be plucky, cheerfully +valiant, a fighter. She would not admit the existence of hard +luck. + +She would be honest. Here, too, she would have no need of allowances. +No temptation would be strong enough to make her do a mean act or +think a mean thought, for her courage would give her strength, and +her strength would make her proof against temptation. She would be +kind. That was because she would also be extremely intelligent, +and, being extremely intelligent, would have need of kindness to +enable her to bear with a not very intelligent man like himself. +For the rest, she would be small and alert and pretty, and fair +haired--and brown-eyed--and she would keep a bee farm and her name +would be Elizabeth Boyd. + +Having arrived with a sense of mild astonishment at this +conclusion, Bill found, also to his surprise, that he had walked +ten miles without knowing it and that he was turning in at the +farm gate. Somebody came down the drive, and he saw that it was +Elizabeth. + +She hurried to meet him, small and shadowy in the uncertain light. +James, the cat, stalked rheumatically at her side. She came up to +Bill, and he saw that her face wore an anxious look. He gazed at +her with a curious feeling that it was a very long time since he +had seen her last. + +'Where have you been?' she said, her voice troubled. 'I couldn't +think what had become of you.' + +'I went for a walk.' + +'But you've been gone hours and hours.' + +'I went to a place called Morrisville.' + +'Morrisville!' Elizabeth's eyes opened wide. 'Have you walked +twenty miles?' + +'Why, I--I believe I have.' + +It was the first time he had been really conscious of it. +Elizabeth looked at him in consternation. Perhaps it was the +association in her mind of unexpected walks with the newly-born +activities of the repentant Nutty that gave her the feeling that +there must be some mental upheaval on a large scale at the back of +this sudden ebullition of long-distance pedestrianism. She +remembered that the thought had come to her once or twice during +the past week that all was not well with her visitor, and that he +had seemed downcast and out of spirits. + +She hesitated. + +'Is anything the matter, Mr Chalmers?' + +'No,' said Bill, decidedly. He would have found a difficulty in +making that answer with any ring of conviction earlier in the day, +but now it was different. There was nothing whatever the matter +with him now. He had never felt happier. + +'You're sure?' + +'Absolutely. I feel fine.' + +'I thought--I've been thinking for some days--that you might be in +trouble of some sort.' + +Bill swiftly added another to that list of qualities which he had +been framing on his homeward journey. That girl of his would be +angelically sympathetic. + +'It's awfully good of you,' he said, 'but honestly I feel like--I +feel great.' + +The little troubled look passed from Elizabeth's face. Her eyes +twinkled. + +'You're really feeling happy?' + +'Tremendously.' + +'Then let me damp you. We're in an awful fix!' + +'What! In what way?' + +'About the monkey.' + +'Has he escaped?' + +'That's the trouble--he hasn't.' + +'I don't understand.' + +'Come and sit down and I'll tell you. It's a shame to keep you +standing after your walk.' + +They made their way to the massive stone seat which Mr Flack, the +landlord, had bought at a sale and dumped in a moment of +exuberance on the farm grounds. + +'This is the most hideous thing on earth,' said Elizabeth +casually, 'but it will do to sit on. Now tell me: why did you go +to Lady Wetherby's this afternoon?' + +It was all so remote, it seemed so long ago that he had wanted to +find an excuse for meeting Claire again, that for a moment Bill +hesitated in actual perplexity, and before he could speak Elizabeth +had answered the question for him. + +'I suppose you went out of kindness of heart to relieve the poor +lady's mind,' she said. 'But you certainly did the wrong thing. +You started something!' + +'I didn't tell her the animal was here.' + +'What did you tell her?' + +'I said I had seen it, don't you know.' + +'That was enough.' + +'I'm awfully sorry.' + +'Oh, we shall pull through all right, but we must act at once. We +must be swift and resolute. We must saddle our chargers and up and +away, and all that sort of thing. Show a flash of speed,' she +explained kindly, at the sight of Bill's bewildered face. + +'But what has happened?' + +'The press is on our trail. I've been interviewing reporters all +the afternoon.' + +'Reporters!' + +'Millions of them. The place is alive with them. Keen, hatchet-faced +young men, and every one of them was the man who really unravelled +some murder mystery or other, though the police got the credit for +it. They told me so.' + +'But, I say, how on earth--' + +'--did they get here? I suppose Lady Wetherby invited them,' + +'But why?' + +'She wants the advertisement, of course. I know it doesn't sound +sensational--a lost monkey; but when it's a celebrity's lost +monkey it makes a difference. Suppose King George had lost a +monkey; wouldn't your London newspapers give it a good deal of +space? Especially if it had thrown eggs at one of the ladies and +bitten the Duke of Norfolk in the leg? That's what our visitor has +been doing apparently. At least, he threw eggs at the scullery-maid +and bit a millionaire. It's practically the same thing. At any +rate, there it is. The newspaper men are here, and they seem +to regard this farm as their centre of operations. I had the +greatest difficulty in inducing them to go home to their well-earned +dinners. They wanted to camp out on the place. As it is, there may +still be some of them round, hiding in the grass with notebooks, +and telling one another in whispers that they were the men who +really solved the murder mystery. What shall we do?' + +Bill had no suggestions. + +'You realize our position? I wonder if we could be arrested for +kidnapping. The monkey is far more human than most of the +millionaire children who get kidnapped. It's an awful fix. Did you +know that Lady Wetherby is going to offer a reward for the +animal?' + +'No, really?' + +'Five hundred dollars!' + +'Surely not!' + +'She is. I suppose she feels she can charge it up to necessary +expenses for publicity and still be ahead of the game, taking into +account the advertising she's going to get.' + +'She said nothing about that when I saw her.' + +'No, because it won't be offered until to-morrow or the day after. +One of the newspaper men told me that. The idea is, of course, to +make the thing exciting just when it would otherwise be dying as a +news item. Cumulative interest. It's a good scheme, too, but it +makes it very awkward for me. I don't want to be in the position +of keeping a monkey locked up with the idea of waiting until +somebody starts a bull market in monkeys. I consider that that +sort of thing would stain the spotless escutcheon of the Boyds. It +would be a low trick for that old-established family to play. Not +but what poor, dear Nutty would do it like a shot,' she concluded +meditatively. + +Bill was impressed. + +'It does make it awkward, what?' + +'It makes it more than awkward, what! Take another aspect of the +situation. The night before last my precious Nutty, while ruining +his constitution with the demon rum, thought he saw a monkey that +wasn't there, and instantly resolved to lead a new and better +life. He hates walking, but he has now begun to do his five miles +a day. He loathes cold baths, but he now wallows in them. I don't +know his views on Indian clubs, but I should think that he has a +strong prejudice against them, too, but now you can't go near him +without taking a chance of being brained. Are all these good +things to stop as quickly as they began? If I know Nutty, he would +drop them exactly one minute after he heard that it was a real +monkey he saw that night. And how are we to prevent his hearing? +By a merciful miracle he was out taking his walk when the +newspaper men began to infest the place to-day, but that might not +happen another time. What conclusion does all this suggest to you, +Mr Chalmers?' + +'We ought to get rid of the animal.' + +'This very minute. But don't you bother to come. You must be tired +out, poor thing.' + +'I never felt less tired,' said Bill stoutly. + +Elizabeth looked at him in silence for a moment. + +'You're rather splendid, you know, Mr Chalmers. You make a great +partner for an adventure of this kind. You're nice and solid.' + +The outhouse lay in the neighbourhood of the hives, a gaunt, +wooden structure surrounded by bushes. Elizabeth glanced over her +shoulder as she drew the key from her pocket. + +'You can't think how nervous I was this afternoon,' she said. 'I +thought every moment one of those newspaper men would look in +here. I--James! James! I thought I heard James in those bushes--I +kept heading them away. Once I thought it was all up.' She +unlocked the door. 'One of them was about a yard from the window, +just going to look in. Thank goodness, a bee stung him at the +psychological moment, and--Oh!' + +'What's the matter?' + +'Come and get a banana.' + +They walked to the house. On the way Elizabeth stopped. + +'Why, you haven't had any dinner either!' she said. + +'Never mind me,' said Bill, 'I can wait. Let's get this thing +finished first.' + +'You really are a sport, Mr Chalmers,' said Elizabeth gratefully. +'It would kill me to wait a minute. I shan't feel happy until I've +got it over. Will you stay here while I go up and see that Nutty's +safe in his room?' she added as they entered the house. + +She stopped abruptly. A feline howl had broken the stillness of +the night, followed instantly by a sharp report. + +'What was that?' + +'It sounded like a car backfiring.' + +'No, it was a shot. One of the neighbours, I expect. You can hear +miles away on a night like this. I suppose a cat was after his +chickens. Thank goodness, James isn't a pirate cat. Wait while I +go up and see Nutty.' + +She was gone only a moment. + +'It's all right,' she said. 'I peeped in. He's doing deep +breathing exercises at his window which looks out the other way. +Come along.' + +When they reached the outhouse they found the door open. + +'Did you do that?' said Elizabeth. 'Did you leave it open?' + +'No.' + +'I don't remember doing it myself. It must have swung open. Well, +this saves us a walk. He'll have gone.' + +'Better take a look round, what?' + +'Yes, I suppose so; but he's sure not to be there. Have you a +match?' + +Bill struck one and held it up. + +'Good Lord!' + +The match went out. + +'What is it? What has happened?' + +Bill was fumbling for another match. + +'There's something on the floor. It looks like--I thought for a +minute--' The small flame shot out of the gloom, flickered, then +burned with a steady glow. Bill stooped, bending over something on +the ground. The match burned down. + +Bill's voice came out of the darkness: + +'I say, you were right about that noise. It was a shot. The poor +little chap's down there on the floor with a hole in him the size +of my fist.' + + + + +17 + + +Boyhood, like measles, is one of those complaints which a man +should catch young and have done with, for when it comes in +middle life it is apt to be serious. Dudley Pickering had escaped +boyhood at the time when his contemporaries were contracting it. +It is true that for a few years after leaving the cradle he had +exhibited a certain immatureness, but as soon as he put on +knickerbockers and began to go about a little he outgrew all that. +He avoided altogether the chaotic period which usually lies +between the years of ten and fourteen. At ten he was a thoughtful +and sober-minded young man, at fourteen almost an old fogy. + +And now--thirty-odd years overdue--boyhood had come upon him. As +he examined the revolver in his bedroom, wild and unfamiliar +emotions seethed within him. He did not realize it, but they were +the emotions which should have come to him thirty years before and +driven him out to hunt Indians in the garden. An imagination which +might well have become atrophied through disuse had him as +thoroughly in its control as ever he had had his Pickering Giant. + +He believed almost with devoutness in the plot which he had +detected for the spoliation of Lord Wetherby's summer-house, that +plot of which he held Lord Dawlish to be the mainspring. And it +must be admitted that circumstances had combined to help his +belief. If the atmosphere in which he was moving was not sinister +then there was no meaning in the word. + +Summer homes had been burgled, there was no getting away from +that--half a dozen at least in the past two months. He was a +stranger in the locality, so had no means of knowing that summer +homes were always burgled on Long Island every year, as regularly +as the coming of the mosquito and the advent of the jelly-fish. It +was one of the local industries. People left summer homes lying +about loose in lonely spots, and you just naturally got in through +the cellar window. Such was the Long Islander's simple creed. + +This created in Mr Pickering's mind an atmosphere of burglary, a +receptiveness, as it were, toward burglars as phenomena, and the +extremely peculiar behaviour of the person whom in his thoughts he +always referred to as The Man crystallized it. He had seen The Man +hanging about, peering in at windows. He had shouted 'Hi!' and The +Man had run. The Man had got into the house under the pretence of +being a friend of Claire's. At the suggestion that he should meet +Claire he had dashed away in a panic. And Claire, both then and +later, had denied absolutely any knowledge of him. + +As for the apparently blameless beekeeping that was going on at +the place where he lived, that was easily discounted. Mr Pickering +had heard somewhere or read somewhere--he rather thought that it +was in those interesting but disturbing chronicles of Raffles--that +the first thing an intelligent burglar did was to assume some +open and innocent occupation to avert possible inquiry into his +real mode of life. Mr Pickering did not put it so to himself, for +he was rarely slangy even in thought, but what he felt was that he +had caught The Man and his confederate with the goods. + +If Mr Pickering had had his boyhood at the proper time and +finished with it, he would no doubt have acted otherwise than he +did. He would have contented himself with conducting a war of +defence. He would have notified the police, and considered that +all that remained for him personally to do was to stay in his room +at night with his revolver. But boys will be boys. The only course +that seemed to him in any way satisfactory in this his hour of +rejuvenation was to visit the bee farm, the hotbed of crime, and +keep an eye on it. He wanted to go there and prowl. + +He did not anticipate any definite outcome of his visit. In his +boyish, elemental way he just wanted to take a revolver and a +pocketful of cartridges, and prowl. + +It was a great night for prowling. A moon so little less than full +that the eye could barely detect its slight tendency to become +concave, shone serenely, creating a desirable combination of black +shadows where the prowler might hide and great stretches of light +in which the prowler might reveal his wickedness without disguise. +Mr Pickering walked briskly along the road, then less briskly as +he drew nearer the farm. An opportune belt of shrubs that ran from +the gate adjoining the road to a point not far from the house gave +him just the cover he needed. He slipped into this belt of shrubs +and began to work his way through them. + +Like generals, authors, artists, and others who, after planning +broad effects, have to get down to the detail work, he found that +this was where his troubles began. He had conceived the journey +through the shrubbery in rather an airy mood. He thought he would +just go through the shrubbery. He had not taken into account the +branches, the thorns, the occasional unexpected holes, and he was +both warm and dishevelled when he reached the end of it and found +himself out in the open within a short distance of what he +recognized as beehives. It was not for some time that he was able +to give that selfless attention to exterior objects which is the +prowler's chief asset. For quite a while the only thought of which +he was conscious was that what he needed most was a cold drink and +a cold bath. Then, with a return to clear-headedness, he realized +that he was standing out in the open, visible from three sides to +anyone who might be in the vicinity, and he withdrew into the +shrubbery. He was not fond of the shrubbery, but it was a splendid +place to withdraw into. It swallowed you up. + +This was the last move of the first part of Mr Pickering's active +campaign. He stayed where he was, in the middle of a bush, and +waited for the enemy to do something. What he expected him to do +he did not know. The subconscious thought that animated him was +that on a night like this something was bound to happen sooner or +later. Just such a thought on similarly stimulating nights had +animated men of his acquaintance thirty years ago, men who were +as elderly and stolid and unadventurous now as Mr Pickering had +been then. He would have resented the suggestion profoundly, but +the truth of the matter was that Dudley Pickering, after a late +start, had begun to play Indians. + +Nothing had happened for a long time--for such a long time that, +in spite of the ferment within him, Mr Pickering almost began to +believe that nothing would happen. The moon shone with unutterable +calm. The crickets and the tree frogs performed their interminable +duet, apparently unconscious that they were attacking it in +different keys--a fact that, after a while, began to infuriate +Mr Pickering. Mosquitoes added their reedy tenor to the concert. +A twig on which he was standing snapped with a report like a pistol. +The moon went on shining. + +Away in the distance a dog began to howl. An automobile passed in +the road. For a few moments Mr Pickering was able to occupy +himself pleasantly with speculations as to its make; and then he +became aware that something was walking down the back of his neck +just beyond the point where his fingers could reach it. Discomfort +enveloped Mr Pickering. At various times by day he had seen +long-winged black creatures with slim waists and unpleasant faces. +Could it be one of these? Or a caterpillar? Or--and the maddening +thing was that he did not dare to slap at it, for who knew what +desperate characters the sound might not attract? + +Well, it wasn't stinging him; that was something. + +A second howling dog joined the first one. A wave of sadness was +apparently afflicting the canine population of the district to-night. + +Mr Pickering's vitality began to ebb. He was ageing, and +imagination slackened its grip. And then, just as he had begun to +contemplate the possibility of abandoning the whole adventure and +returning home, he was jerked back to boyhood again by the sound +of voices. + +He shrank farther back into the bushes. A man--The Man--was +approaching, accompanied by his female associate. They passed so +close to him that he could have stretched out a hand and touched +them. + +The female associate was speaking, and her first words set all Mr +Pickering's suspicions dancing a dance of triumph. The girl gave +herself away with her opening sentence. + +'You can't think how nervous I was this afternoon,' he heard her +say. She had a soft pleasant voice; but soft, pleasant voices may +be the vehicles for conveying criminal thoughts. 'I thought every +moment one of those newspaper men would look in here.' + +Where was here? Ah, that outhouse! Mr Pickering had had his +suspicions of that outhouse already. It was one of those +structures that look at you furtively as if something were hiding +in them. + +'James! James! I thought I heard James in those bushes.' + +The girl was looking straight at the spot occupied by Mr +Pickering, and it had been the start caused by her first words and +the resultant rustle of branches that had directed her attention +to him. He froze. The danger passed. She went on speaking. Mr +Pickering pondered on James. Who was James? Another of the gang, +of course. How many of them were there? + +'Once I thought it was all up. One of them was about a yard from +the window, just going to look in.' + +Mr Pickering thrilled. There was something hidden in the outhouse, +then! Swag? + +'Thank goodness, a bee stung him at the psychological moment, +and--oh!' + +She stopped, and The Man spoke: + +'What's the matter?' + +It interested Mr Pickering that The Man retained his English +accent even when talking privately with his associates. For +practice, no doubt. + +'Come and get a banana,' said the girl. And they went off together +in the direction of the house, leaving Mr Pickering bewildered. +Why a banana? Was it a slang term of the underworld for a pistol? +It must be that. + +But he had no time for speculation. Now was his chance, the only +chance he would ever get of looking into that outhouse and finding +out its mysterious contents. He had seen the girl unlock the door. +A few steps would take him there. All it needed was nerve. With a +strong effort Mr Pickering succeeded in obtaining the nerve. He +burst from his bush and trotted to the outhouse door, opened it, +and looked in. And at that moment something touched his leg. + +At the right time and in the right frame of mind man is capable of +stoic endurances that excite wonder and admiration. Mr Pickering +was no weakling. He had once upset his automobile in a ditch, and +had waited for twenty minutes until help came to relieve a broken +arm, and he had done it without a murmur. But on the present +occasion there was a difference. His mind was not adjusted for the +occurrence. There are times when it is unseasonable to touch a man +on the leg. This was a moment when it was unseasonable in the case +of Mr Pickering. He bounded silently into the air, his whole being +rent asunder as by a cataclysm. + +He had been holding his revolver in his hand as a protection +against nameless terrors, and as he leaped he pulled the trigger. +Then with the automatic instinct for self-preservation, he sprang +back into the bushes, and began to push his way through them until +he had reached a safe distance from the danger zone. + +James, the cat, meanwhile, hurt at the manner in which his +friendly move had been received, had taken refuge on the outhouse +roof. He mewed complainingly, a puzzled note in his voice. Mr +Pickering's behaviour had been one of those things that no fellow +can understand. The whole thing seemed inexplicable to James. + + + + +18 + + +Lord Dawlish stood in the doorway of the outhouse, holding the +body of Eustace gingerly by the tail. It was a solemn moment. +There was no room for doubt as to the completeness of the +extinction of Lady Wetherby's pet. + +Dudley Pickering's bullet had done its lethal work. Eustace's +adventurous career was over. He was through. + +Elizabeth's mouth was trembling, and she looked very white in the +moonlight. Being naturally soft-hearted, she deplored the tragedy +for its own sake; and she was also, though not lacking in courage, +decidedly upset by the discovery that some person unknown had been +roaming her premises with a firearm. + +'Oh, Bill!' she said. Then: 'Poor little chap!' And then: 'Who +could have done it?' + +Lord Dawlish did not answer. His whole mind was occupied at the +moment with the contemplation of the fact that she had called him +Bill. Then he realized that she had spoken three times and +expected a reply. + +'Who could have done it?' + +Bill pondered. Never a quick thinker, the question found him +unprepared. + +'Some fellow, I expect,' he said at last brightly. 'Got in, don't +you know, and then his pistol went off by accident.' + +'But what was he doing with a pistol?' + +Bill looked a little puzzled at this. + +'Why, he would have a pistol, wouldn't he? I thought everybody +had over here.' + +Except for what he had been able to observe during the brief +period of his present visit, Lord Dawlish's knowledge of the +United States had been derived from the American plays which he +had seen in London, and in these chappies were producing revolvers +all the time. He had got the impression that a revolver was as +much a part of the ordinary well-dressed man's equipment in the +United States as a collar. + +'I think it was a burglar,' said Elizabeth. 'There have been a lot +of burglaries down here this summer.' + +'Would a burglar burgle the outhouse? Rummy idea, rather, what? +Not much sense in it. I think it must have been a tramp. I expect +tramps are always popping about and nosing into all sorts of +extraordinary places, you know.' + +'He must have been standing quite close to us while we were +talking,' said Elizabeth, with a shiver. + +Bill looked about him. Everywhere was peace. No sinister sounds +competed with the croaking of the tree frogs. No alien figures +infested the landscape. The only alien figure, that of Mr +Pickering, was wedged into a bush, invisible to the naked eye. + +'He's gone now, at any rate,' he said. 'What are we going to do?' + +Elizabeth gave another shiver as she glanced hurriedly at the +deceased. After life's fitful fever Eustace slept well, but he was +not looking his best. + +'With--it?' she said. + +'I say,' advised Bill, 'I shouldn't call him "it," don't you know. +It sort of rubs it in. Why not "him"? I suppose we had better bury +him. Have you a spade anywhere handy?' + +'There isn't a spade on the place.' + +Bill looked thoughtful. + +'It takes weeks to make a hole with anything else, you know,' he +said. 'When I was a kid a friend of mine bet me I wouldn't dig my +way through to China with a pocket knife. It was an awful frost. I +tried for a couple of days, and broke the knife and didn't get +anywhere near China.' He laid the remains on the grass and +surveyed them meditatively. 'This is what fellows always run up +against in the detective novels--What to Do With the Body. They +manage the murder part of it all right, and then stub their toes +on the body problem.' + +'I wish you wouldn't talk as if we had done a murder.' + +'I feel as if we had, don't you?' + +'Exactly.' + +'I read a story once where a fellow slugged somebody and melted +the corpse down in a bath tub with sulphuric--' + +'Stop! You're making me sick!' + +'Only a suggestion, don't you know,' said Bill apologetically. + +'Well, suggest something else, then.' + +'How about leaving him on Lady Wetherby's doorstep? See what I +mean--let them take him in with the morning milk? Or, if you would +rather ring the bell and go away, and--you don't think much of +it?' + +'I simply haven't the nerve to do anything so risky.' + +'Oh, I would do it. There would be no need for you to come.' + +'I wouldn't dream of deserting you.' + +'That's awfully good of you.' + +'Besides, I'm not going to be left alone to-night until I can jump +into my little white bed and pull the clothes over my head. I'm +scared, I'm just boneless with fright. And I wouldn't go anywhere +near Lady Wetherby's doorstep with it.' + +'Him.' + +'It's no use, I can't think of it as "him." It's no good asking me +to.' + +Bill frowned thoughtfully. + +'I read a story once where two chappies wanted to get rid of a +body. They put it inside a fellow's piano.' + +'You do seem to have read the most horrible sort of books.' + +'I rather like a bit of blood with my fiction,' said Bill. 'What +about this piano scheme I read about?' + +'People only have talking machines in these parts.' + +'I read a story--' + +'Let's try to forget the stories you've read. Suggest something of +your own.' + +'Well, could we dissect the little chap?' + +'Dissect him?' + +'And bury him in the cellar, you know. Fellows do it to their +wives.' + +Elizabeth shuddered. + +'Try again,' she said. + +'Well, the only other thing I can think of is to take him into the +woods and leave him there. It's a pity we can't let Lady Wetherby +know where he is; she seems rather keen on him. But I suppose the +main point is to get rid of him.' + +'I know how we can do both. That's a good idea of yours about the +woods. They are part of Lady Wetherby's property. I used to wander +about there in the spring when the house was empty. There's a sort +of shack in the middle of them. I shouldn't think anybody ever +went there--it's a deserted sort of place. We could leave him +there, and then--well, we might write Lady Wetherby a letter or +something. We could think out that part afterward.' + +'It's the best thing we've thought of. You really want to come?' + +'If you attempt to leave here without me I shall scream. Let's be +starting.' + +Bill picked Eustace up by his convenient tail. + +'I read a story once,' he said, 'where a fellow was lugging a +corpse through a wood, when suddenly--' + +'Stop right there,' said Elizabeth firmly. + +During the conversation just recorded Dudley Pickering had been +keeping a watchful eye on Bill and Elizabeth from the interior of +a bush. His was not the ideal position for espionage, for he was +too far off to hear what they said, and the light was too dim to +enable him to see what it was that Bill was holding. It looked to +Mr Pickering like a sack or bag of some sort. As time went by he +became convinced that it was a sack, limp and empty at present, +but destined later to receive and bulge with what he believed was +technically known as the swag. When the two objects of vigilance +concluded their lengthy consultation, and moved off in the +direction of Lady Wetherby's woods, any doubts he may have had as +to whether they were the criminals he had suspected them of being +were dispersed. The whole thing worked out logically. + +The Man, having spied out the land in his two visits to Lady +Wetherby's house, was now about to break in. His accomplice would +stand by with the sack. With a beating heart Mr Pickering gripped +his revolver and moved round in the shadow of the shrubbery till +he came to the gate, when he was just in time to see the guilty +couple disappear into the woods. He followed them. He was glad to +get on the move again. While he had been wedged into the bush, +quite a lot of the bush had been wedged into him. Something sharp +had pressed against the calf of his leg, and he had been pinched +in a number of tender places. And he was convinced that one more +of God's unpleasant creatures had got down the back of his neck. + +Dudley Pickering moved through the wood as snakily as he could. +Nature had shaped him more for stability than for snakiness, but +he did his best. He tingled with the excitement of the chase, and +endeavoured to creep through the undergrowth like one of those +intelligent Indians of whom he had read so many years before in +the pages of Mr Fenimore Cooper. In those days Dudley Pickering +had not thought very highly of Fenimore Cooper, holding his work +deficient in serious and scientific interest; but now it seemed to +him that there had been something in the man after all, and he +resolved to get some of his books and go over them again. He +wished he had read them more carefully at the time, for they +doubtless contained much information and many hints which would +have come in handy just now. He seemed, for example, to recall +characters in them who had the knack of going through forests +without letting a single twig crack beneath their feet. Probably +the author had told how this was done. In his unenlightened state +it was beyond Mr Pickering. The wood seemed carpeted with twigs. +Whenever he stepped he trod on one, and whenever he trod on one it +cracked beneath his feet. There were moments when he felt gloomily +that he might just as well be firing a machine-gun. + +Bill, meanwhile, Elizabeth following close behind him, was +ploughing his way onward. From time to time he would turn to +administer some encouraging remark, for it had come home to him by +now that encouraging remarks were what she needed very much in the +present crisis of her affairs. She was showing him a new and +hitherto unsuspected side of her character. The Elizabeth whom he +had known--the valiant, self-reliant Elizabeth--had gone, leaving +in her stead someone softer, more appealing, more approachable. It +was this that was filling him with strange emotions as he led the +way to their destination. + +He was becoming more and more conscious of a sense of being drawn +very near to Elizabeth, of a desire to soothe, comfort, and protect +her. It was as if to-night he had discovered the missing key to a +puzzle or the missing element in some chemical combination. Like +most big men, his mind was essentially a protective mind; weakness +drew out the best that was in him. And it was only to-night that +Elizabeth had given any sign of having any weakness in her +composition. That clear vision which had come to him on his long +walk came again now, that vivid conviction that she was the only +girl in the world for him. + +He was debating within himself the advisability of trying to find +words to express this sentiment, when Mr Pickering, the modern +Chingachgook, trod on another twig in the background and Elizabeth +stopped abruptly with a little cry. + +'What was that?' she demanded. + +Bill had heard a noise too. It was impossible to be within a dozen +yards of Mr Pickering, when on the trail, and not hear a noise. +The suspicion that someone was following them did not come to him, +for he was a man rather of common sense than of imagination, and +common sense was asking him bluntly why the deuce anybody should +want to tramp after them through a wood at that time of night. He +caught the note of panic in Elizabeth's voice, and was soothing +her. + +'It was just a branch breaking. You hear all sorts of rum noises +in a wood.' + +'I believe it's the man with the pistol following us!' + +'Nonsense. Why should he? Silly thing to do!' He spoke almost +severely. + +'Look!' cried Elizabeth. + +'What?' + +'I saw someone dodge behind that tree.' + +'You mustn't let yourself imagine things. Buck up!' + +'I can't buck up. I'm scared.' + +'Which tree did you think you saw someone dodge behind?' + +'That big one there.' + +'Well, listen: I'll go back and--' + +'If you leave me for an instant I shall die in agonies.' She +gulped. 'I never knew I was such a coward before. I'm just a +worm.' + +'Nonsense. This sort of thing might frighten anyone. I read a +story once--' + +'Don't!' + +Bill found that his heart had suddenly begun to beat with +unaccustomed rapidity. The desire to soothe, comfort, and protect +Elizabeth became the immediate ambition of his life. It was very +dark where they stood. The moonlight, which fell in little patches +round them, did not penetrate the thicket which they had entered. +He could hardly see her. He was merely aware of her as a presence. +An excellent idea occurred to him. + +'Hold my hand,' he said. + +It was what he would have said to a frightened child, and there was +much of the frightened child about Elizabeth then. The Eustace mystery +had given her a shock which subsequent events had done nothing to +dispel, and she had lost that jauntiness and self-confidence which was +her natural armour against the more ordinary happenings of life. + +Something small and soft slid gratefully into his palm, and there +was silence for a space. Bill said nothing. Elizabeth said +nothing. And Mr Pickering had stopped treading on twigs. The +faintest of night breezes ruffled the tree-tops above them. The +moonbeams filtered through the branches. He held her hand tightly. + +'Better?' + +'Much.' + +The breeze died away. Not a leaf stirred. The wood was very still. +Somewhere on a bough a bird moved drowsily 'All right?' + +'Yes.' + +And then something happened--something shattering, disintegrating. +It was only a pheasant, but it sounded like the end of the world. +It rose at their feet with a rattle that filled the universe, and +for a moment all was black confusion. And when that moment had +passed it became apparent to Bill that his arm was round +Elizabeth, that she was sobbing helplessly, and that he was +kissing her. Somebody was talking very rapidly in a low voice. + +He found that it was himself. + +'Elizabeth!' + +There was something wonderful about the name, a sort of music. +This was odd, because the name, as a name, was far from being a +favourite of his. Until that moment childish associations had +prejudiced him against it. It had been inextricably involved in +his mind with an atmosphere of stuffy schoolrooms and general +misery, for it had been his misfortune that his budding mind was +constitutionally incapable of remembering who had been Queen of +England at the time of the Spanish Armada--a fact that had caused +a good deal of friction with a rather sharp-tempered governess. +But now it seemed the only possible name for a girl to have, the +only label that could even remotely suggest those feminine charms +which he found in this girl beside him. There was poetry in every +syllable of it. It was like one of those deep chords which fill +the hearer with vague yearnings for strange and beautiful things. +He asked for nothing better than to stand here repeating it. + +'Elizabeth!' + +'Bill, dear!' + +That sounded good too. There was music in 'Bill' when properly +spoken. The reason why all the other Bills in the world had got +the impression that it was a prosaic sort of name was that there +was only one girl in existence capable of speaking it properly, +and she was not for them. + +'Bill, are you really fond of me?' + +'Fond of you!' + +She gave a sigh. 'You're so splendid!' + +Bill was staggered. These were strange words. He had never thought +much of himself. He had always looked on himself as rather a +chump--well-meaning, perhaps, but an awful ass. It seemed +incredible that any one--and Elizabeth of all people--could look +on him as splendid. + +And yet the very fact that she had said it gave it a plausible +sort of sound. It shook his convictions. Splendid! Was he? By +Jove, perhaps he was, what? Rum idea, but it grew on a chap. +Filled with a novel feeling of exaltation, he kissed Elizabeth +eleven times in rapid succession. + +He felt devilish fit. He would have liked to run a mile or two and +jump a few gates. He wished five or six starving beggars would +come along; it would be pleasant to give the poor blighters money. +It was too much to expect at that time of night, of course, but it +would be rather jolly if Jess Willard would roll up and try to +pick a quarrel. He would show him something. He felt grand and +strong and full of beans. What a ripping thing life was when you +came to think of it. + +'This,' he said, 'is perfectly extraordinary!' And time stood +still. + +A sense of something incongruous jarred upon Bill. Something +seemed to be interfering with the supreme romance of that golden +moment. It baffled him at first. Then he realized that he was +still holding Eustace by the tail. + +Dudley Pickering had watched these proceedings--as well as the +fact that it was extremely dark and that he was endeavouring to +hide a portly form behind a slender bush would permit him--with a +sense of bewilderment. A comic artist drawing Mr Pickering at that +moment would no doubt have placed above his head one of those +large marks of interrogation which lend vigour and snap to modern +comic art. Certainly such a mark of interrogation would have +summed up his feelings exactly. Of what was taking place he had +not the remotest notion. All he knew was that for some inexplicable +reason his quarry had come to a halt and seemed to have settled down +for an indefinite stay. Voices came to him in an indistinguishable +murmur, intensely irritating to a conscientious tracker. One of +Fenimore Cooper's Indians--notably Chingachgook, if, which seemed +incredible, that was really the man's name--would have crept up +without a sound and heard what was being said and got in on the +ground floor of whatever plot was being hatched. But experience +had taught Mr Pickering that, superior as he was to Chingachgook +and his friends in many ways, as a creeper he was not in their class. +He weighed thirty or forty pounds more than a first-class creeper +should. Besides, creeping is like golf. You can't take it up in the +middle forties and expect to compete with those who have been at it +from infancy. + +He had resigned himself to an all-night vigil behind the bush, +when to his great delight he perceived that things had begun to +move again. There was a rustling of feet in the undergrowth, and +he could just see two indistinct forms making their way among the +bushes. He came out of his hiding place and followed stealthily, +or as stealthily as the fact that he had not even taken a +correspondence course in creeping allowed. And profiting by +earlier mistakes, he did succeed in making far less noise than +before. In place of his former somewhat elephantine method of +progression he adopted a species of shuffle which had excellent +results, for it enabled him to brush twigs away instead of +stepping flatfootedly on them. The new method was slow, but it had +no other disadvantages. + +Because it was slow, Mr Pickering was obliged to follow his prey +almost entirely by ear. It was easy at first, for they seemed to +be hurrying on regardless of noise. Then unexpectedly the sounds +of their passage ceased. + +He halted. In his boyish way the first thing he thought was that +it was an ambush. He had a vision of that large man suspecting his +presence and lying in wait for him with a revolver. This was not a +comforting thought. Of course, if a man is going to fire a +revolver at you it makes little difference whether he is a giant +or a pygmy, but Mr Pickering was in no frame of mind for nice +reasoning. It was the thought of Bill's physique which kept him +standing there irresolute. + +What would Chingachgook--assuming, for purposes of argument, that +any sane godfather could really have given a helpless child a name +like that--have done? He would, Mr Pickering considered, after +giving the matter his earnest attention, have made a _detour_ +and outflanked the enemy. An excellent solution of the difficulty. +Mr Pickering turned to the left and began to advance circuitously, +with the result that, before he knew what he was doing, he came +out into a clearing and understood the meaning of the sudden +silence which had perplexed him. Footsteps made no sound on this +mossy turf. + +He knew where he was now; the clearing was familiar. This was +where Lord Wetherby's shack-studio stood; and there it was, right +in front of him, black and clear in the moonlight. And the two +dark figures were going into it. + +Mr Pickering retreated into the shelter of the bushes and mused +upon this thing. It seemed to him that for centuries he had been +doing nothing but retreat into bushes for this purpose. His +perplexity had returned. He could imagine no reason why burglars +should want to visit Lord Wetherby's studio. He had taken it for +granted, when he had tracked them to the clearing, that they were +on their way to the house, which was quite close to the shack, +separated from it only by a thin belt of trees and a lawn. + +They had certainly gone in. He had seen them with his own eyes--first +the man, then very close behind him, apparently holding to his coat, +the girl. But why? + +Creep up and watch them? Would Chingachgook have taken a risk like +that? Hardly, unless insured with some good company. Then what? He +was still undecided when he perceived the objects of his attention +emerging. He backed a little farther into the bushes. + +They stood for an instant, listening apparently. The man no longer +carried the sack. They exchanged a few inaudible words. Then they +crossed the clearing and entered the wood a few yards to his +right. He could hear the crackling of their footsteps diminishing +in the direction of the road. + +A devouring curiosity seized upon Mr Pickering. He wanted, more +than he had wanted almost anything before in his life, to find out +what the dickens they had been up to in there. He listened. The +footsteps were no longer audible. He ran across the clearing and +into the shack. It was then that he discovered that he had no +matches. + +This needless infliction, coming upon him at the crisis of an +adventurous night, infuriated Mr Pickering. He swore softly. He +groped round the walls for an electric-light switch, but the shack +had no electric-light switch. When there was need to illuminate it +an oil lamp performed the duty. This occurred to Mr Pickering +after he had been round the place three times, and he ceased to +grope for a switch and began to seek for a match-box. He was still +seeking it when he was frozen in his tracks by the sound of +footsteps, muffled but by their nearness audible, just outside the +door. He pulled out his pistol, which he had replaced in his +pocket, backed against the wall, and stood there prepared to sell +his life dearly. + +The door opened. + +One reads of desperate experiences ageing people in a single +night. His present predicament aged Mr Pickering in a single +minute. In the brief interval of time between the opening of the +door and the moment when a voice outside began to speak he became +a full thirty years older. His boyish ardour slipped from him, and +he was once more the Dudley Pickering whom the world knew, the +staid and respectable middle-aged man of affairs, who would have +given a million dollars not to have got himself mixed up in this +deplorable business. + +And then the voice spoke. + +'I'll light the lamp,' it said; and with an overpowering feeling +of relief Mr Pickering recognized it as Lord Wetherby's. A moment +later the temperamental peer's dapper figure became visible in +silhouette against a background of pale light. + +'Ah-hum!' said Mr Pickering. + +The effect on Lord Wetherby was remarkable. To hear some one clear +his throat at the back of a dark room, where there should +rightfully be no throat to be cleared, would cause even your man +of stolid habit a passing thrill. The thing got right in among +Lord Wetherby's highly sensitive ganglions like an earthquake. He +uttered a strangled cry, then dashed out and slammed the door +behind him. + +'There's someone in there!' + +Lady Wetherby's tranquil voice made itself heard. + +'Nonsense; who could be in there?' + +'I heard him, I tell you. He growled at me!' + +It seemed to Mr Pickering that the time had come to relieve the +mental distress which he was causing his host. He raised his +voice. + +'It's all right!' he called. + +'There!' said Lord Wetherby. + +'Who's that?' asked Lady Wetherby, through the door. + +'It's all right. It's me--Pickering.' + +The door was opened a few inches by a cautious hand. + +'Is that you, Pickering?' + +'Yes. It's all right.' + +'Don't keep saying it's all right,' said Lord Wetherby, irritably. +'It isn't all right. What do you mean by hiding in the dark and +popping out and barking at a man? You made me bite my tongue. I've +never had such a shock in my life.' + +Mr Pickering left his lair and came out into the open. Lord +Wetherby was looking aggrieved, Lady Wetherby peacefully +inquisitive. For the first time Mr Pickering discovered that +Claire was present. She was standing behind Lady Wetherby with a +floating white something over her head, looking very beautiful. + +'For the love of Mike!' said Lady Wetherby. + +Mr Pickering became aware that he was still holding the revolver. + +'Oh, ah!' he said, and pocketed the weapon. + +'Barking at people!' muttered Lord Wetherby in a querulous +undertone. + +'What on earth are you doing, Dudley?' said Claire. + +There was a note in her voice which both puzzled and pained Mr +Pickering, a note that seemed to suggest that she found herself in +imperfect sympathy with him. Her expression deepened the +suggestion. It was a cold expression, unfriendly, as if it was not +so keen a pleasure to Claire to look at him as it should be for a +girl to look at the man whom she is engaged to marry. He had +noticed the same note in her voice and the same hostile look in +her eye earlier in the evening. He had found her alone, reading a +letter which, as the stamp on the envelope showed, had come from +England. She had seemed so upset that he had asked her if it +contained bad news, and she had replied in the negative with so +much irritation that he had desisted from inquiries. But his own +idea was that she had had bad news from home. Mr Pickering still +clung to his early impression that her little brother Percy was +consumptive, and he thought the child must have taken a turn for +the worse. It was odd that she should have looked and spoken like +that then, and it was odd that she should look and speak like that +now. He had been vaguely disturbed then and he was vaguely +disturbed now. He had the feeling that all was not well. + +'Yes,' said Lady Wetherby. 'What on earth are you doing, Dudley?' + +'Popping out!' grumbled Lord Wetherby. + +'We came here to see Algie's picture, which has got something +wrong with its eyes apparently, and we find you hiding in the dark +with a gun. What's the idea?' + +'It's a long story,' said Mr Pickering. + +'We have the night before us,' said Lady Wetherby. + +'You remember The Man--the fellow I found looking in at the +window, The Man who said he knew Claire?' + +'You've got that man on the brain, Dudley. What's he been doing to +you now?' + +'I tracked him here.' + +'Tracked him? Where from?' + +'From that bee-farm place where he's living. He and that girl you +spoke of went into these woods. I thought they were making for the +house, but they went into the shack.' + +'What did they do then?' asked Lady Wetherby + +'They came out again.' + +'Why?' + +'That's what I was trying to find out.' + +Lord Wetherby uttered an exclamation. + +'By Jove!' There was apprehension in his voice, but mingled with +it a certain pleased surprise. 'Perhaps they were after my +picture. I'll light the lamp. Good Lord, picture thieves--Romneys +--missing Gainsboroughs--' His voice trailed off as he found the +lamp and lit it. Relief and disappointment were nicely blended in +his next words: 'No, it's still there.' + +The soft light of the lamp filled the studio. + +'Well, that's a comfort,' said Lady Wetherby, sauntering in. 'We +couldn't afford to lose--Oh!' + +Lord Wetherby spun round as her scream burst upon his already +tortured nerve centres. Lady Wetherby was kneeling on the floor. +Claire hurried in. + +'What is it, Polly?' + +Lady Wetherby rose to her feet, and pointed. Her face had lost its +look of patient amusement. It was hard and set. She eyed Mr +Pickering in a menacing way. + +'Look!' + +Claire followed her finger. + +'Good gracious! It's Eustace!' + +'Shot!' + +She was looking intently at Mr Pickering. 'Well, Dudley,' she +said, coldly, 'what about it?' + +Mr Pickering found that they were all looking at him--Lady +Wetherby with glittering eyes, Claire with cool scorn, Lord +Wetherby with a horror which he seemed to have achieved with +something of an effort. + +'Well!' said Claire. + +'What about it, Dudley?' said Lady Wetherby. + +'I must say, Pickering,' said Lord Wetherby, 'much as I disliked +the animal, it's a bit thick!' + +Mr Pickering recoiled from their accusing gaze. + +'Good heavens! Do you think I did it?' + +In the midst of his anguish there flashed across his mind the +recollection of having seen just this sort of situation in a +moving picture, and of having thought it far-fetched. + +Lady Wetherby's good-tempered mouth, far from good-tempered now, +curled in a devastating sneer. She was looking at him as Claire, +in the old days when they had toured England together in road +companies, had sometimes seen her look at recalcitrant landladies. +The landladies, without exception, had wilted beneath that gaze, +and Mr Pickering wilted now. + +'But--but--but--' was all he could contrive to say. + +'Why should we think you did it?' said Lady Wetherby, bitterly. +'You had a grudge against the poor brute for biting you. We find +you hiding here with a pistol and a story about burglars which an +infant couldn't swallow. I suppose you thought that, if you +planted the poor creature's body here, it would be up to Algie to +get rid of it, and that if he were found with it I should think +that it was he who had killed the animal.' + +The look of horror which Lord Wetherby had managed to assume +became genuine at these words. The gratitude which he had been +feeling towards Mr Pickering for having removed one of the chief +trials of his existence vanished. + +'Great Scot!' he cried. 'So that was the game, was it?' + +Mr Pickering struggled for speech. This was a nightmare. + +'But I didn't! I didn't! I didn't! I tell you I hadn't the +remotest notion the creature was there.' + +'Oh, come, Pickering!' said Lord Wetherby. 'Come, come, come!' + +Mr Pickering found that his accusers were ebbing away. Lady +Wetherby had gone. Claire had gone. Only Lord Wetherby remained, +looking at him like a pained groom. He dashed from the place and +followed his hostess, speaking incoherently of burglars, +outhouses, and misunderstandings. He even mentioned Chingachgook. +But Lady Wetherby would not listen. Nobody would listen. + +He found Lord Wetherby at his side, evidently prepared to go +deeper into the subject. Lord Wetherby was looking now like a +groom whose favourite horse has kicked him in the stomach. + +'Wouldn't have thought it of you, Pickering,' said Lord Wetherby. +Mr Pickering found no words. 'Wouldn't, honestly. Low trick!' + +'But I tell you--' + +'Devilish low trick!' repeated Lord Wetherby, with a shake of the +head. 'Laws of hospitality--eaten our bread and salt, what!--all +that sort of thing--kill valuable monkey--not done, you know--low, +very low!' + +And he followed his wife, now in full retreat, with scorn and +repulsion written in her very walk. + +'Mr Pickering!' + +It was Claire. She stood there, holding something towards him, +something that glittered in the moonlight. Her voice was hard, and +the expression on her face suggested that in her estimation he was +a particularly low-grade worm, one of the submerged tenth of the +worm world. + +'Eh?' said Mr Pickering, dazedly. + +He looked at what she had in her hand, but it conveyed nothing to +his overwrought mind. + +'Take it!' + +'Eh?' + +Claire stamped. + +'Very well,' she said. + +She flung something on the ground before him--a small, sparkling +object. Then she swept away, his eyes following her, and was lost +in the darkness of the trees. Mechanically Mr Pickering stooped to +pick up what she had let fall. He recognized it now. It was her +engagement ring. + + + + +19 + + +Bill leaned his back against the gate that separated the grounds of +the bee-farm from the high road and mused pleasantly. He was alone. +Elizabeth was walking up the drive on her way to the house to tell +the news to Nutty. James, the cat, who had come down from the roof +of the outhouse, was sharpening his claws on a neighbouring tree. +After the whirl of excitement that had been his portion for the past +few hours, the peace of it all appealed strongly to Bill. It suited +the mood of quiet happiness which was upon him. + +Quietly happy, that was how he felt now that it was all over. The +white heat of emotion had subsided to a gentle glow of contentment +conducive to thought. He thought tenderly of Elizabeth. She had +turned to wave her hand before going into the house, and he was +still smiling fatuously. Wonderful girl! Lucky chap he was! Rum, +the way they had come together! Talk about Fate, what? + +He stooped to tickle James, who had finished stropping his claws +and was now enjoying a friction massage against his leg, and began +to brood on the inscrutable way of Fate. + +Rum thing, Fate! Most extraordinary! + +Suppose he had never gone down to Marvis Bay that time. He had +wavered between half a dozen places; it was pure chance that he +had chosen Marvis Bay. If he hadn't he would never have met old +Nutcombe. Probably old Nutcombe had wavered between half a dozen +places too. If they hadn't both happened to choose Marvis Bay they +would never have met. And if they hadn't been the only visitors +there they might never have got to know each other. And if old +Nutcombe hadn't happened to slice his approach shots he would +never have put him under an obligation. Queer old buster, old +Nutcombe, leaving a fellow he hardly knew from Adam a cool million +quid just because he cured him of slicing. + +It was at this point in his meditations that it suddenly occurred to +Bill that he had not yet given a thought to what was immeasurably +the most important of any of the things that ought to be occupying +his mind just now. What was he to do about this Lord Dawlish +business? + +Life at Brookport had so accustomed him to being plain Bill +Chalmers that it had absolutely slipped his mind that he was +really Lord Dawlish, the one man in the world whom Elizabeth +looked on as an enemy. What on earth was he to do about that? Tell +her? But if he told her, wouldn't she chuck him on the spot? + +This was awful. The dreamy sense of well-being left him. He +straightened himself to face this problem, ignoring the hint of +James, who was weaving circles about his legs expectant of more +tickling. A man cannot spend his time tickling cats when he has to +concentrate on a dilemma of this kind. + +Suppose he didn't tell her? How would that work out? Was a marriage +legal if the cove who was being married went through it under a +false name? He seemed to remember seeing a melodrama in his boyhood +the plot of which turned on that very point. Yes, it began to come +back to him. An unpleasant bargee with a black moustache had said, +'This woman is not your wife!' and caused the dickens of a lot of +unpleasantness; but there in its usual slipshod way memory failed. +Had subsequent events proved the bargee right or wrong? It was a +question for a lawyer to decide. Jerry Nichols would know. Well, +there was plenty of time, thank goodness, to send Jerry Nichols a +cable, asking for his professional opinion, and to get the straight +tip long before the wedding day arrived. + +Laying this part of it aside for the moment, and assuming that the +thing could be worked, what about the money? Like a chump, he had +told Elizabeth on the first day of his visit that he hadn't any +money except what he made out of his job as secretary of the club. +He couldn't suddenly spring five million dollars on her and +pretend that he had forgotten all about it till then. + +Of course, he could invent an imaginary uncle or something, and +massacre him during the honeymoon. Something in that. He pictured +the thing in his mind. Breakfast: Elizabeth doling out the +scrambled eggs. 'What's the matter, Bill? Why did you exclaim like +that? Is there some bad news in the letter you are reading?' + +'Oh, it's nothing--only my Uncle John's died and left me five +million dollars.' + +The scene worked out so well that his mind became a little above +itself. It suggested developments of serpentine craftiness. Why +not get Jerry Nichols to write him a letter about his Uncle John +and the five millions? Jerry liked doing that sort of thing. He +would do it like a shot, and chuck in a lot of legal words to make +it sound right. It began to be clear to Bill that any move he +took--except full confession, at which he jibbed--was going to +involve Jerry Nichols as an ally; and this discovery had a +soothing effect on him. It made him feel that the responsibility +had been shifted. He couldn't do anything till he had consulted +Jerry, so there was no use in worrying. And, being one of those +rare persons who can cease worrying instantly when they have +convinced themselves that it is useless, he dismissed the entire +problem from his mind and returned to the more congenial +occupation of thinking of Elizabeth. + +It was a peculiar feature of his position that he found himself +unable to think of Elizabeth without thinking of Claire. He tried +to, but failed. Every virtue in Elizabeth seemed to call up the +recollection of a corresponding defect in Claire It became almost +mathematical. Elizabeth was so straight on the level they called +it over here. Claire was a corkscrew among women. Elizabeth was +sunny and cheerful. Querulousness was Claire's besetting sin. +Elizabeth was such a pal. Claire had never been that. The effect +that Claire had always had on him was to deepen the conviction, +which never really left him, that he was a bit of an ass. +Elizabeth, on the other hand, bucked him up and made him feel as +if he really amounted to something. + +How different they were! Their very voices--Elizabeth had a sort +of quiet, soothing, pleasant voice, the kind of voice that somehow +suggested that she thought a lot of a chap without her having to +say it in so many words. Whereas Claire's voice--he had noticed it +right from the beginning--Claire's voice-- + +While he was trying to make clear to himself just what it was +about Claire's voice that he had not liked he was granted the +opportunity of analysing by means of direct observation its +failure to meet his vocal ideals, for at this moment it spoke +behind him. + +'Bill!' + +She was standing in the road, her head still covered with that +white, filmy something which had commended itself to Mr Pickering's +eyes. She was looking at him in a way that seemed somehow to strike +a note of appeal. She conveyed an atmosphere of softness and +repentance, a general suggestion of prodigal daughters revisiting +old homesteads. + +'We seem always to be meeting at gates, don't we?' she said, with +a faint smile. + +It was a deprecating smile, wistful. + +'Bill!' she said again, and stopped. She laid her left hand +lightly on the gate. Bill had a sort of impression that there was +some meaning behind this action; that, if he were less of a chump +than Nature had made him, he would at this point receive some sort +of a revelation. But, being as Nature had made him, he did not get +it. + +He was one of those men to whom a girl's left hand is simply a +girl's left hand, irrespective of whether it wears rings on its +third finger or not. + +This having become evident to Claire after a moment of silence, +she withdrew her hand in rather a disappointed way and prepared to +attack the situation from another angle. + +'Bill, I've come to say something to you.' + +Bill was looking at her curiously. He could not have believed +that, even after what had happened, he could face her with such +complete detachment; that she could so extraordinarily not matter. +He felt no resentment toward her. It was simply that she had gone +out of his life. + +'Bill, I've been a fool.' + +He made no reply to this for he could think of no reply that was +sufficiently polite. 'Yes?' sounded as if he meant to say that +that was just what he had expected. 'Really?' had a sarcastic +ring. He fell back on facial expression, to imply that he was +interested and that she might tell all. + +Claire looked away down the road and began to speak in a low, +quick voice: + +'I've been a fool all along. I lost you through being a fool. When +I saw you dancing with that girl in the restaurant I didn't stop +to think. I was angry. I was jealous. I ought to have trusted you, +but--Oh, well, I was a fool.' + +'My dear girl, you had a perfect right--' + +'I hadn't. I was an idiot. Bill, I've come to ask you if you can't +forgive me.' + +'I wish you wouldn't talk like that--there's nothing to forgive.' + +The look which Claire gave him in answer to this was meek and +affectionate, but inwardly she was wishing that she could bang his +head against the gate. His slowness was maddening. Long before +this he should have leaped into the road in order to fold her in +his arms. Her voice shook with the effort she had to make to keep +it from sharpness. + +'I mean, is it too late? I mean, can you really forgive me? Oh, +Bill'--she stopped herself by the fraction of a second from adding +'you idiot'--'can't we be the same again to each other? Can't +we--pretend all this has never happened?' + +Exasperating as Bill's wooden failure to play the scene in the +spirit in which her imagination had conceived it was to Claire, +several excuses may be offered for him: He had opened the evening +with a shattering blow at his faith in woman. He had walked twenty +miles at a rapid pace. He had heard shots and found a corpse, and +carried the latter by the tail across country. Finally, he had had +the stunning shock of discovering that Elizabeth Boyd loved him. +He was not himself. He found a difficulty in concentrating. With +the result that, in answer to this appeal from a beautiful girl +whom he had once imagined that he loved, all he could find to say +was: 'How do you mean?' + +Claire, never an adept at patience, just succeeded in swallowing +the remark that sprang into her mind. It was incredible to her +that a man could exist who had so little intuition. She had not +anticipated the necessity of being compelled to put the substance +of her meaning in so many blunt words, but it seemed that only so +could she make him understand. + +'I mean, can't we be engaged again, Bill?' + +Bill's overtaxed brain turned one convulsive hand-spring, and came +to rest with a sense of having dislocated itself. This was too +much. This was not right. No fellow at the end of a hard evening +ought to have to grapple with this sort of thing. What on earth +did she mean, springing questions like that on him? How could they +be engaged? She was going to marry someone else, and so was he. +Something of these thoughts he managed to put into words: + +'But you're engaged to--' + +'I've broken my engagement with Mr Pickering.' + +'Great Scot! When?' + +'To-night. I found out his true character. He is cruel and +treacherous. Something happened--it may sound nothing to you, but +it gave me an insight into what he really was. Polly Wetherby had +a little monkey, and just because it bit Mr Pickering he shot it.' + +'Pickering!' + +'Yes. He wasn't the sort of man I should have expected to do a +mean, cruel thing like that. It sickened me. I gave him back his +ring then and there. Oh, what a relief it was! What a fool I was +ever to have got engaged to such a man.' + +Bill was puzzled. He was one of those simple men who take their +fellows on trust, but who, if once that trust is shattered, can +never recover it. Like most simple men, he was tenacious of ideas +when he got them, and the belief that Claire was playing fast and +loose was not lightly to be removed from his mind. He had found +her out during his self-communion that night, and he could never +believe her again. He had the feeling that there was something +behind what she was saying. He could not put his finger on the +clue, but that there was a clue he was certain. + +'I only got engaged to him out of pique. I was angry with you, +and--Well, that's how it happened.' + +Still Bill could not believe. It was plausible. It sounded true. +And yet some instinct told him that it was not true. And while he +waited, perplexed, Claire made a false step. + +The thing had been so close to the top of her mind ever since she +had come to the knowledge of it that it had been hard for her to +keep it down. Now she could keep it down no longer. + +'How wonderful about old Mr Nutcombe, Bill!' she said. + +A vast relief rolled over Bill. Despite his instinct, he had been +wavering. But now he understood. He had found the clue. + +'You got my letter, then?' + +'Yes; it was forwarded on from the theatre. I got it to-night.' + +Too late she realized what she had said and the construction that +an intelligent man would put on it. Then she reflected that Bill +was not an intelligent man. She shot a swift glance at him. To all +appearances he had suspected nothing. + +'It went all over the place,' she hurried on. 'The people at the +Portsmouth theatre sent it to the London office, who sent it home, +and mother mailed it on to me.' + +'I see.' + +There was a silence. Claire drew a step nearer. + +'Bill!' she said softly. + +Bill shut his eyes. The moment had come which he had dreaded. Not +even the thought that she was crooked, that she had been playing +with him, could make it any better. She was a woman and he was a +man. That was all that mattered, and nothing could alter it. + +'I'm sorry,' he said. 'It's impossible.' + +Claire stared at him in amazement. She had not been prepared for +this. He met her eyes, but every nerve in his body was protesting. + +'Bill!' + +'I'm sorry. + +'But, Bill!' + +He set his teeth. It was just as bad as he had thought it would +be. + +'But, Bill, I've explained. I've told you how--' + +'I know.' + +Claire's eyes opened wide. + +'I thought you loved me.' She came closer. She pulled at his +sleeve. Her voice took on a note of soft raillery. 'Don't be +absurd, Bill! You mustn't behave like a sulky schoolboy. It isn't +like you, this. You surely don't want me to humble myself more +than I have done.' She gave a little laugh. 'Why, Bill, I'm +proposing to you! I know I've treated you badly, but I've +explained why. You must be just enough to see that it wasn't +altogether my fault. I'm only human. And if I made a mistake I've +done all I can do to undo it. I--' + +'Claire, listen: I'm engaged!' + +She fell back. For the first time the sense of defeat came to her. +She had anticipated many things. She had looked for difficulties. +But she had not expected this. A feeling of cold fury surged over +her at the way fate had tricked her. She had gambled recklessly on +her power of fascination, and she had lost. + +Mr Pickering, at that moment brooding in solitude in the smoking-room +of Lady Wetherby's house, would have been relieved could he have +known how wistfully she was thinking of him. + +'You're engaged?' + +'Yes.' + +'Well!' She forced another laugh. 'How very--rapid of you! To +whom?' + +'To Elizabeth Boyd.' + +'I'm afraid I'm very ignorant, but who is Elizabeth Boyd? The +ornate lady you were dancing with at the restaurant?' + +'No!' + +'Who then?' + +'She is old Ira Nutcombe's niece. The money ought to have been +left to her. That was why I came over to America, to see if I +could do anything for her.' + +'And you're going to marry her? How very romantic--and convenient! +What an excellent arrangement for her. Which of you suggested it?' + +Bill drew in a deep breath. All this was, he supposed, +unavoidable, but it was not pleasant. + +Claire suddenly abandoned her pose of cool amusement. The fire +behind it blazed through. + +'You fool!' she cried passionately. 'Are you blind? Can't you see +that this girl is simply after your money? A child could see it.' + +Bill looked at her steadily. + +'You're quite wrong. She doesn't know who I am.' + +'Doesn't know who you are? What do you mean? She must know by this +time that her uncle left his money to you.' + +'But she doesn't know that I am Lord Dawlish. I came to America +under another name. She knows me as Chalmers.' + +Claire was silent for a moment. + +'How did you get to know her?' she asked, more quietly. + +'I met her brother by chance in New York.' + +'By chance!' + +'Quite by chance. A man I knew in England lent me his rooms in New +York. He happened to be a friend of Boyd's. Boyd came to call on +him one night, and found me.' + +'Odd! Had your mutual friend been away from New York long?' + +'Some months.' + +'And in all that time Mr Boyd had not discovered that he had left. +They must have been great friends! What happened then?' + +'Boyd invited me down here.' + +'Down here?' + +'They live in this house.' + +'Is Miss Boyd the girl who keeps the bee-farm?' + +'She is.' + +Claire's eyes suddenly lit up. She began to speak in a louder +voice: + +'Bill, you're an infant, a perfect infant! Of course, she's after +your money. Do you really imagine for one instant that this +Elizabeth Boyd of yours and her brother don't know as well as I do +that you are really Lord Dawlish? I always thought you had a +trustful nature! You tell me the brother met you by chance. +Chance! And invited you down here. I bet he did! He knew his +business! And now you're going to marry the girl so that they will +get the money after all! Splendid! Oh, Bill, you're a wonderful, +wonderful creature! Your innocence is touching.' + +She swung round. + +'Good night,' she called over her shoulder. + +He could hear her laughing as she went down the road. + + + + +20 + + +In the smoking-room of Lady Wetherby's house, chewing the dead +stump of a once imposing cigar, Dudley Pickering sat alone with +his thoughts. He had been alone for half an hour now. Once Lord +Wetherby had looked in, to withdraw at once coldly, with the +expression of a groom who has found loathsome things in the +harness-room. Roscoe Sherriff, good, easy man, who could never +dislike people, no matter what they had done, had come for a while +to bear him company; but Mr Pickering's society was not for the +time being entertaining. He had answered with grunts the +Press-agent's kindly attempts at conversation, and the latter +Had withdrawn to seek a more congenial audience. And now Mr +Pickering was alone, talking things over with his subconscious +self. + +A man's subconscious self is not the ideal companion. It lurks for +the greater part of his life in some dark den of its own, hidden +away, and emerges only to taunt and deride and increase the misery +of a miserable hour. Mr Pickering's rare interviews with his +subconscious self had happened until now almost entirely in the +small hours of the night, when it had popped out to remind him, as +he lay sleepless, that all flesh was grass and that he was not +getting any younger. To-night, such had been the shock of the +evening's events, it came to him at a time which was usually his +happiest--the time that lay between dinner and bed. Mr Pickering +at that point of the day was generally feeling his best. But to-night +was different from the other nights of his life. + +One may picture Subconscious Self as a withered, cynical, +malicious person standing before Mr Pickering and regarding him +with an evil smile. There has been a pause, and now Subconscious +Self speaks again: + +'You will have to leave to-morrow. Couldn't possibly stop on after +what's happened. Now you see what comes of behaving like a boy.' + +Mr Pickering writhed. + +'Made a pretty considerable fool of yourself, didn't you, with +your revolvers and your hidings and your trailings? Too old for +that sort of thing, you know. You're getting on. Probably have a +touch of lumbago to-morrow. You must remember you aren't a +youngster. Got to take care of yourself. Next time you feel an +impulse to hide in shrubberies and take moonlight walks through +damp woods, perhaps you will listen to me.' + +Mr Pickering relit the stump of his cigar defiantly and smoked in +long gulps for a while. He was trying to persuade himself that all +this was untrue, but it was not easy. The cigar became uncomfortably +hot, and he threw it away. He fumbled in his waistcoat pocket and +produced a diamond ring, at which he looked pensively. + +'A pretty thing, is it not?' said Subconscious Self + +Mr Pickering sighed. That moment when Claire had thrown the ring +at his feet and swept out of his life like an offended queen had +been the culminating blow of a night of blows, the knock-out +following on a series of minor punches. Subconscious Self seized +the opportunity to become offensive again. + +'You've lost her, all through your own silly fault,' it said. 'How +on earth you can have been such a perfect fool beats me. Running +round with a gun like a boy of fourteen! Well, it's done now and +it can't be mended. Countermand the order for cake, send a wire +putting off the wedding, dismiss the bridesmaids, tell the +organist he can stop practising "The Voice that Breathed O'er +Eden"--no wedding-bells for you! For Dudley Damfool Pickering, +Esquire, the lonely hearth for evermore! Little feet pattering +about the house? Not on your life! Childish voices sticking up the +old man for half a dollar to buy candy? No, sir! Not for D. +Bonehead Pickering, the amateur trailing arbutus!' + +Subconscious Self may have had an undesirable way of expressing +itself, but there was no denying the truth of what it said. Its +words carried conviction. Mr Pickering replaced the ring in his +pocket, and, burying his head in his hands, groaned in bitterness +of spirit. + +He had lost her. He must face the fact. She had thrown him over. +Never now would she sit at his table, the brightest jewel of +Detroit's glittering social life. She would have made a stir in +Detroit. Now that city would never know her. Not that he was +worrying much about Detroit. He was worrying about himself. How +could he ever live without her? + +This mood of black depression endured for a while, and then Mr +Pickering suddenly became aware that Subconscious Self was +sneering at him. 'You're a wonder!' said Subconscious Self. + +'What do you mean?' + +'Why, trying to make yourself think that at the bottom of your +heart you aren't tickled to death that this has happened. You know +perfectly well that you're tremendously relieved that you haven't +got to marry the girl after all. You can fool everybody else, but +you can't fool me. You're delighted, man, delighted!' The mere +suggestion revolted Mr Pickering. He was on the point of indignant +denial, when quite abruptly there came home to him the suspicion +that the statement was not so preposterous after all. It seemed +incredible and indecent that such a thing should be, but he could +not deny, now that it was put to him point-blank in this way, that +a certain sense of relief was beginning to mingle itself with his +gloom. It was shocking to realize, but--yes, he actually was +feeling as if he had escaped from something which he had dreaded. +Half an hour ago there had been no suspicion of such an emotion +among the many which had occupied his attention, but now he +perceived it clearly. Half an hour ago he had felt like Lucifer +hurled from heaven. Now, though how that train of thought had +started he could not have said, he was distinctly conscious of the +silver lining. Subconscious Self began to drive the thing home. + +'Be honest with yourself,' it said. 'You aren't often. No man is. +Look at the matter absolutely fairly. You know perfectly well that +the mere idea of marriage has always scared you. You hate making +yourself conspicuous in public. Think what it would be like, +standing up there in front of all the world and getting married. +And then--afterwards! Why on earth do you think that you would +have been happy with this girl? What do you know about her except +that she is a beauty? I grant you she's that, but are you aware of +the infinitesimal part looks play in married life? My dear chap, +better is it for a man that he marry a sympathetic gargoyle than a +Venus with a streak of hardness in her. You know--and you would +admit it if you were honest with yourself--that this girl is hard. +She's got a chilled-steel soul. + +'If you wanted to marry some one--and there's no earthly reason +why you should, for your life's perfectly full and happy with your +work--this is the last girl you ought to marry. You're a middle-aged +man. You're set. You like life to jog along at a peaceful walk. +This girl wants it to be a fox-trot. You've got habits which +you have had for a dozen years. I ask you, is she the sort of girl +to be content to be a stepmother to a middle-aged man's habits? Of +course, if you were really in love with her, if she were your +mate, and all that sort of thing, you would take a pleasure in +making yourself over to suit her requirements. But you aren't in +love with her. You are simply caught by her looks. I tell you, you +ought to look on that moment when she gave you back your ring as +the luckiest moment of your life. You ought to make a sort of +anniversary of it. You ought to endow a hospital or something out +of pure gratitude. I don't know how long you're going to live--if +you act like a grown-up man instead of a boy and keep out of woods +and shrubberies at night you may live for ever--but you will never +have a greater bit of luck than the one that happened to you +to-night.' + +Mr Pickering was convinced. His spirits soared. Marriage! What was +marriage? Slavery, not to be endured by your man of spirit. Look +at all the unhappy marriages you saw everywhere. Besides, you had +only to recall some of the novels and plays of recent years to get +the right angle on marriage. According to the novelists and +playwrights, shrewd fellows who knew what was what, if you talked +to your wife about your business she said you had no soul; if you +didn't, she said you didn't think enough of her to let her share +your life. If you gave her expensive presents and an unlimited +credit account, she complained that you looked on her as a mere +doll; and if you didn't, she called you a screw. That was +marriage. If it didn't get you with the left jab, it landed on you +with the right upper-cut. None of that sort of thing for Dudley +Pickering. + +'You're absolutely right,' he said, enthusiastically. 'Funny I +never looked at it that way before.' + +Somebody was turning the door-handle. He hoped it was Roscoe +Sherriff. He had been rather dull the last time Sherriff had +looked in. He would be quite different now. He would be gay and +sparkling. He remembered two good stories he would like to tell +Sherriff. + +The door opened and Claire came in. There was a silence. She stood +looking at him in a way that puzzled Mr Pickering. If it had not +been for her attitude at their last meeting and the manner in +which she had broken that last meeting up, he would have said that +her look seemed somehow to strike a note of appeal. There was +something soft and repentant about her. She suggested, it seemed +to Mr Pickering, the prodigal daughter revisiting the old +homestead. + +'Dudley!' + +She smiled a faint smile, a wistful, deprecating smile. She was +looking lovelier than ever. Her face glowed with a wonderful +colour and her eyes were very bright. Mr Pickering met her gaze, +and strange things began to happen to his mind, that mind which a +moment before had thought so clearly and established so definite a +point of view. + +What a gelatine-backboned thing is man, who prides himself on his +clear reason and becomes as wet blotting-paper at one glance from +bright eyes! A moment before Mr Pickering had thought out the +whole subject of woman and marriage in a few bold flashes of his +capable brain, and thanked Providence that he was not as those men +who take unto themselves wives to their undoing. Now in an instant +he had lost that iron outlook. Reason was temporarily out of +business. He was slipping. + +'Dudley!' + +For a space Subconscious Self thrust itself forward. + +'Look out! Be careful!' it warned. + +Mr Pickering ignored it. He was watching, fascinated, the glow on +Claire's face, her shining eyes. + +'Dudley, I want to speak to you.' + +'Tell her you can only be seen by appointment! Escape! Bolt!' + +Mr Pickering did not bolt. Claire came towards him, still smiling +that pathetic smile. A thrill permeated Mr Pickering's entire one +hundred and ninety-seven pounds, trickling down his spine like hot +water and coming out at the soles of his feet. He had forgotten +now that he had ever sneered at marriage. It seemed to him now +that there was nothing in life to be compared with that beatific +state, and that bachelors were mere wild asses of the desert. + +Claire came and sat down on the arm of his chair. He moved +convulsively, but he stayed where he was. + +'Fool!' said Subconscious Self. + +Claire took hold of his hand and patted it. He quivered, but +remained. + +'Ass!' hissed Subconscious Self. + +Claire stopped patting his hand and began to stroke it. Mr +Pickering breathed heavily. + +'Dudley, dear,' said Claire, softly, 'I've been an awful fool, and +I'm dreadful, dreadful sorry, and you're going to be the nicest, +kindest, sweetest man on earth and tell me you've forgiven me. +Aren't you?' + +Mr Pickering's lips moved silently. Claire kissed the thinning +summit of his head. There was a pause. + +'Where is it?' she asked. + +Mr Pickering started. + +'Eh?' + +'Where is it? Where did you put it? The ring, silly!' + +Mr Pickering became aware that Subconscious Self was addressing +him. The occasion was tense, and Subconscious Self did not mince +its words. + +'You poor, maudlin, sentimental, doddering chunk of imbecility,' +it said; 'are there no limits to your insanity? After all I said +to you just now, are you deliberately going to start the old +idiocy all over again?' + +'She's so beautiful!' pleaded Mr Pickering. 'Look at her eyes!' + +'Ass! Don't you remember what I said about beauty?' + +'Yes, I know, but--' + +'She's as hard as nails.' + +'I'm sure you're wrong.' + +'I'm not wrong.' + +'But she loves me.' + +'Forget it!' + +Claire jogged his shoulders. + +'Dudley, dear, what are you sitting there dreaming for? Where did +you put the ring?' + +Mr Pickering fumbled for it, located it, produced it. Claire +examined it fondly. + +'Did she throw it at him and nearly break his heart!' she said. + +'Bolt!' urged Subconscious Self. 'Fly! Go to Japan!' + +Mr Pickering did not go to Japan. He was staring worshippingly at +Claire. With rapturous gaze he noted the grey glory of her eyes, +the delicate curve of her cheek, the grace of her neck. He had no +time to listen to pessimistic warnings from any Gloomy Gus of a +Subconscious Self. He was ashamed that he had ever even for a +moment allowed himself to be persuaded that Claire was not all +that was perfect. No more doubts and hesitations for Dudley +Pickering. He was under the influence. + +'There!' said Claire, and slipped the ring on her finger. + +She kissed the top of his head once more. + +'So there we are!' she said. + +'There we are!' gurgled the infatuated Dudley. + +'Happy now?' + +'Ur-r!' + +'Then kiss me.' + +Mr Pickering kissed her. + +'Dudley, darling,' said Claire, 'we're going to be awfully, +awfully happy, aren't we?' + +'You bet we are!' said Mr Pickering. + +Subconscious Self said nothing, being beyond speech. + + + + +21 + + +For some minutes after Claire had left him Bill remained where he +was, motionless. He felt physically incapable of moving. All the +strength that was in him he was using to throw off the insidious +poison of her parting speech, and it became plainer to him with +each succeeding moment that he would have need of strength. + +It is part of the general irony of things that in life's crises a +man's good qualities are often the ones that help him least, if +indeed they do not actually turn treacherously and fight against +him. It was so with Bill. Modesty, if one may trust to the verdict +of the mass of mankind, is a good quality. It sweetens the soul +and makes for a kindly understanding of one's fellows. But +arrogance would have served Bill better now. It was his fatal +habit of self-depreciation that was making Claire's words so +specious as he stood there trying to cast them from his mind. Who +was he, after all, that he should imagine that he had won on his +personal merits a girl like Elizabeth Boyd? + +He had the not very common type of mind that perceives the merit +in others more readily than their faults, and in himself the +faults more readily than the merit. Time and the society of a +great number of men of different ranks and natures had rid him of +the outer symbol of this type of mind, which is shyness, but it +had left him still unconvinced that he amounted to anything very +much as an individual. + +This was the thought that met him every time he tried to persuade +himself that what Claire had said was ridiculous, the mere parting +shaft of an angry woman. With this thought as an ally her words +took on a plausibility hard to withstand. Plausible! That was the +devil of it. By no effort could he blind himself to the fact that +they were that. In the light of Claire's insinuations what had +seemed coincidences took on a more sinister character. It had +seemed to him an odd and lucky chance that Nutty Boyd should have +come to the rooms which he was occupying that night, seeking a +companion. Had it been chance? Even at the time he had thought it +strange that, on the strength of a single evening spent together, +Nutty should have invited a total stranger to make an indefinite +visit to his home. Had there been design behind the invitation? + +Bill began to walk slowly to the house. He felt tired and unhappy. +He meant to go to bed and try to sleep away these wretched doubts +and questionings. Daylight would bring relief. + +As he reached the open front door he caught the sound of voices, +and paused for an instant, almost unconsciously, to place them. +They came from one of the rooms upstairs. It was Nutty speaking +now, and it was impossible for Bill not to hear what he said, for +Nutty had abandoned his customary drawl in favour of a high, +excited tone. + +'Of course, you hate him and all that,' said Nutty; 'but after all +you will be getting five million dollars that ought to have come +to--' + +That was all that Bill heard, for he had stumbled across the hall +and was in his room, sitting on the bed and staring into the +darkness with burning eyes. The door banged behind him. + +So it was true! + +There came a knock at the door. It was repeated. The handle +turned. + +'Is that you, Bill?' + +It was Elizabeth's voice. He could just see her, framed in the +doorway. + +'Bill!' + +His throat was dry. He swallowed, and found that he could speak. + +'Yes?' + +'Did you just come in?' + +'Yes.' + +'Then--you heard?' + +'Yes.' + +There was a long silence. Then the door closed gently and he heard +her go upstairs. + + + + +22 + + +When Bill woke next morning it was ten o'clock; and his first +emotion, on a day that was to be crowded with emotions of various +kinds, was one of shame. The desire to do the fitting thing is +innate in man, and it struck Bill, as he hurried through his +toilet, that he must be a shallow, coarse-fibred sort of person, +lacking in the finer feelings, not to have passed a sleepless +night. There was something revolting in the thought that, in +circumstances which would have made sleep an impossibility for +most men, he had slept like a log. He did not do himself the +justice to recollect that he had had a singularly strenuous day, +and that it is Nature's business, which she performs quietly and +unromantically, to send sleep to tired men regardless of their +private feelings; and it was in a mood of dissatisfaction with the +quality of his soul that he left his room. + +He had a general feeling that he was not much of a chap and that +when he died--which he trusted would be shortly--the world would +be well rid of him. He felt humble and depressed and hopeless. + +Elizabeth met him in the passage. At the age of eleven or +thereabouts women acquire a poise and an ability to handle +difficult situations which a man, if he is lucky, manages to +achieve somewhere in the later seventies. Except for a pallor +strange to her face and a drawn look about her eyes, there was +nothing to show that all was not for the best with Elizabeth in a +best of all possible worlds. If she did not look jaunty, she at +least looked composed. She greeted Bill with a smile. + +'I didn't wake you. I thought I would let you sleep on.' + +The words had the effect of lending an additional clarity and +firmness of outline to the picture of himself which Bill had +already drawn in his mind--of a soulless creature sunk in hoggish +slumber. + +'We've had breakfast. Nutty has gone for a walk. Isn't he +wonderful nowadays? I've kept your breakfast warm for you.' + +Bill protested. He might be capable of sleep, but he was not going +to sink to food. + +'Not for me, thanks,' he said, hollowly. + +'Come along.' + +'Honestly--' + +'Come along.' + +He followed her meekly. How grimly practical women were! They let +nothing interfere with the essentials of life. It seemed all +wrong. Nevertheless, he breakfasted well and gratefully, Elizabeth +watching him in silence across the table. + +'Finished?' + +'Yes, thanks.' + +She hesitated for a moment. + +'Well, Bill, I've slept on it. Things are in rather a muddle, +aren't they? I think I had better begin by explaining what led up +to those words you heard Nutty say last night. Won't you smoke?' + +'No, thanks.' + +'You'll feel better if you do.' + +'I couldn't.' + +A bee had flown in through the open window. She followed it with +her eye as it blundered about the room. It flew out again into the +sunshine. She turned to Bill again. + +'They were supposed to be words of consolation,' she said. + +Bill said nothing. + +'Nutty, you see, has his own peculiar way of looking at things, +and it didn't occur to him that I might have promised to marry you +because I loved you. He took it for granted that I had done it to +save the Boyd home. He has been very anxious from the first that I +should marry you. I think that that must have been why he asked +you down here. He found out in New York, you know, who you were. +Someone you met at supper recognized you, and told Nutty. So, as +far as that is concerned, the girl you were speaking to at the +gate last night was right.' + +He started. 'You heard her?' + +'I couldn't help it. She meant me to hear. She was raising her +voice quite unnecessarily if she did not mean to include me in the +conversation. I had gone in to find Nutty, and he was out, and I +was coming back to you. That's how I was there. You didn't see me +because your back was turned. She saw me.' + +Bill met her eyes. 'You don't ask who she was?' + +'It doesn't matter who she was. It's what she said that matters. +She said that we knew you were Lord Dawlish.' + +'Did you know?' + +'Nutty told me two or three days ago.' Her voice shook and a flush +came into her face. 'You probably won't believe it, but the news +made absolutely no difference to me one way or the other. I had +always imagined Lord Dawlish as a treacherous, adventurer sort of +man, because I couldn't see how a man who was not like that could +have persuaded Uncle Ira to leave him his money. But after knowing +you even for this short time, I knew you were quite the opposite of +that, and I remembered that the first thing you had done on coming +into the money had been to offer me half, so the information that +you were the Lord Dawlish whom I had been hating did not affect me. +And the fact that you were rich and I was poor did not affect me +either. I loved you, and that was all I cared about. If all this had +not happened everything would have been all right. But, you see, +nine-tenths of what that girl said to you was so perfectly true that +it is humanly impossible for you not to believe the other tenth, +which wasn't. And then, to clinch it, you hear Nutty consoling me. +That brings me back to Nutty.' + +'I--' + +'Let me tell you about Nutty first. I said that he had always been +anxious that I should marry you. Something happened last night to +increase his anxiety. I have often wondered how he managed to get +enough money to enable him to spend three days in New York, and +last night he told me. He came in just after I had got back to the +house after leaving you and that girl, and he was very scared. It +seems that when the letter from the London lawyer came telling him +that he had been left a hundred dollars, he got the idea of +raising money on the strength of it. You know Nutty by this time, +so you won't be surprised at the way he went about it. He borrowed +a hundred dollars from the man at the chemist's on the security of +that letter, and then--I suppose it seemed so easy that it struck +him as a pity to let the opportunity slip--he did the same thing +with four other tradesmen. Nutty's so odd that I don't know even +now whether it ever occurred to him that he was obtaining money +under false pretences; but the poor tradesmen hadn't any doubt +about it at all. They compared notes and found what had happened, +and last night, while we were in the woods, one of them came here +and called Nutty a good many names and threatened him with +imprisonment. + +'You can imagine how delighted Nutty was when I came in and told +him that I was engaged to you. In his curious way, he took it for +granted that I had heard about his financial operations, and was +doing it entirely for his sake, to get him out of his fix. And +while I was trying to put him right on that point he began to +console me. You see, Nutty looks on you as the enemy of the +family, and it didn't strike him that it was possible that I +didn't look on you in that light too. So, after being delighted +for a while, he very sweetly thought that he ought to cheer me up +and point out some of the compensations of marriage with you. +And--Well, that was what you heard. There you have the full +explanation. You can't possibly believe it.' + +She broke off and began to drum her fingers on the table. And as +she did so there came to Bill a sudden relief from all the doubts +and black thoughts that had tortured him. Elizabeth was straight. +Whatever appearances might seem to suggest, nothing could convince +him that she was playing an underhand game. It was as if something +evil had gone out of him. He felt lighter, cleaner. He could +breathe. + +'I do believe it,' he said. 'I believe every word you say.' + +She shook her head. + +'You can't in the face of the evidence.' + +'I believe it.' + +'No. You may persuade yourself for the moment that you do, but +after a while you will have to go by the evidence. You won't be +able to help yourself. You haven't realized what a crushing thing +evidence is. You have to go by it against your will. You see, +evidence is the only guide. You don't know that I am speaking the +truth; you just feel it. You're trusting your heart and not your +head. The head must win in the end. You might go on believing for +a time, but sooner or later you would be bound to begin to doubt +and worry and torment yourself. You couldn't fight against the +evidence, when once your instinct--or whatever it is that tells +you that I am speaking the truth--had begun to weaken. And it +would weaken. Think what it would have to be fighting all the +time. Think of the case your intelligence would be making out, day +after day, till it crushed you. It's impossible that you could +keep yourself from docketing the evidence and arranging it and +absorbing it. Think! Consider what you know are actual facts! +Nutty invites you down here, knowing that you are Lord Dawlish. +All you know about my attitude towards Lord Dawlish is what I told +you on the first morning of your visit. I told you I hated him. +Yet, knowing you are Lord Dawlish, I become engaged to you. +Directly afterwards you hear Nutty consoling me as if I were +marrying you against my will. Isn't that an absolutely fair +statement of what has happened? How could you go on believing me +with all that against you?' + +'I know you're straight. You couldn't do anything crooked.' + +'The evidence proves that I did.' + +'I don't care.' + +'Not now.' + +'Never.' + +She shook her head. + +'It's dear of you, Bill, but you're promising an impossibility. +And just because it's impossible, and because I love you too much +to face what would be bound to happen, I'm going to send you +away.' + +'Send me away!' + +'Yes. It's going to hurt. You don't know how it's going to hurt, +Bill; but it's the only thing to do. I love you too much to live +with you for the rest of my life wondering all the time whether +you still believed or whether the weight of the evidence had +crushed out that tiny little spark of intuition which is all that +makes you believe me now. You could never know the truth for +certain, you see--that's the horror of it; and sometimes you would +be able to make yourself believe, but more often, in spite of all +you could do, you would doubt. It would poison both our lives. +Little things would happen, insignificant in themselves, which +would become tremendously important just because they added a +little bit more to the doubt which you would never be able to get +rid of. + +'When we had quarrels--which we should, as we are both human--they +wouldn't be over and done with in an hour. They would stick in +your mind and rankle, because, you see, they might be proofs that +I didn't really love you. And then when I seemed happy with you, +you would wonder if I was acting. I know all this sounds morbid +and exaggerated, but it isn't. What have you got to go on, as +regards me? What do you really know of me? If something like this +had happened after we had been married half a dozen years and +really knew each other, we could laugh at it. But we are +strangers. We came together and loved each other because there was +something in each of us which attracted the other. We took that +little something as a foundation and built on it. But what has +happened has knocked away our poor little foundation. That's all. +We don't really know anything at all about each other for certain. +It's just guesswork.' + +She broke off and looked at the clock. + +'I had better be packing if you're to catch the train.' + +He gave a rueful laugh. + +'You're throwing me out!' + +'Yes, I am. I want you to go while I am strong enough to let you +go.' + +'If you really feel like that, why send me away?' + +'How do you know I really feel like that? How do you know that I +am not pretending to feel like that as part of a carefully-prepared +plan?' + +He made an impatient gesture. + +'Yes, I know,' she said. 'You think I am going out of my way to +manufacture unnecessary complications. I'm not; I'm simply looking +ahead. If I were trying to trap you for the sake of your money, +could I play a stronger card than by seeming anxious to give you +up? If I were to give in now, sooner or later that suspicion would +come to you. You would drive it away. You might drive it away a +hundred times. But you couldn't kill it. In the end it would beat +you.' + +He shrugged his shoulders helplessly. + +'I can't argue.' + +'Nor can I. I can only put very badly things which I know are +true. Come and pack.' + +'I'll do it. Don't you bother.' + +'Nonsense! No man knows how to pack properly.' + +He followed her to his room, pulled out his suitcase, the symbol +of the end of all things, watched her as she flitted about, the +sun shining on her hair as she passed and repassed the window. She +was picking things up, folding them, packing them. Bill looked on +with an aching sense of desolation. It was all so friendly, so +intimate, so exactly as it would have been if she were his wife. +It seemed to him needlessly cruel that she should be playing on +this note of domesticity at the moment when she was barring for +ever the door between him and happiness. He rebelled helplessly +against the attitude she had taken. He had not thought it all out, +as she had done. It was folly, insanity, ruining their two lives +like this for a scruple. + +Once again he was to encounter that practical strain in the +feminine mind which jars upon a man in trouble. She was holding +something in her hand and looking at it with concern. + +'Why didn't you tell me?' she said. 'Your socks are in an awful +state, poor boy!' + +He had the feeling of having been hit by something. A man has not +a woman's gift of being able to transfer his mind at will from +sorrow to socks. + +'Like sieves!' She sighed. A troubled frown wrinkled her forehead. +'Men are so helpless! Oh, dear, I'm sure you don't pay any +attention to anything important. I don't believe you ever bother +your head about keeping warm in winter and not getting your feet +wet. And now I shan't be able to look after you!' + +Bill's voice broke. He felt himself trembling. + +'Elizabeth!' + +She was kneeling on the floor, her head bent over the suitcase. +She looked up and met his eyes. + +'It's no use, Bill, dear. I must. It's the only way.' + +The sense of the nearness of the end broke down the numbness +which held him. + +'Elizabeth! It's so utterly absurd. It's just--chucking everything +away!' + +She was silent for a moment. + +'Bill, dear, I haven't said anything about it before but don't you +see that there's my side to be considered too? I only showed you +that you could never possibly know that I loved you. How am I to +know that you really love me?' + +He had moved a step towards her. He drew back, chilled. + +'I can't do more than tell you,' he said. + +'You can't. And there you have put in two words just what I've +been trying to make clear all the time. Don't you see that that's +the terrible thing about life, that nobody can do more than tell +anybody anything? Life's nothing but words, words, words; and how +are we to know when words are true? How am I to know that you +didn't ask me to marry you out of sheer pity and an exaggerated +sense of justice?' + +He stared at her. + +'That,' he said, 'is absolutely ridiculous!' + +'Why? Look at it as I should look at it later on, when whatever it +is inside me that tell me it's ridiculous now had died. Just at +this moment, while we're talking here, there's something stronger +than reason which tells me you really do love me. But can't you +understand that that won't last? It's like a candle burning on a +rock with the tide coming up all round it. It's burning brightly +enough now, and we can see the truth by the light of it. But the +tide will put it out, and then we shall have nothing left to see +by. There's a great black sea of suspicion and doubt creeping up +to swamp the little spark of intuition inside us. + +'I will tell you what would happen to me if I didn't send you +away. Remember I heard what that girl was saying last night. +Remember that you hated the thought of depriving me of Uncle Ira's +money so much that your first act was to try to get me to accept +half of it. The quixotic thing is the first that it occurs to you +to do, because you're like that, because you're the straightest, +whitest man I've ever known or shall know. Could anything be more +likely, looking at it as I should later on, than that you should +have hit on the idea of marrying me as the only way of undoing the +wrong you thought you had done me? I've been foolish about +obligations all my life. I've a sort of morbid pride that hates +the thought of owing anything to anybody, of getting anything that +I have not earned. By and by, if I were to marry you, a little +rotten speck of doubt would begin to eat its way farther and +farther into me. It would be the same with you. We should react on +each other. We should be watching each other, testing each other, +trying each other out all the time. It would be horrible, +horrible!' + +He started to speak; then, borne down by the hopelessness of it, +stopped. Elizabeth stood up. They did not look at each other. He +strapped the suitcase and picked it up. The end of all things was +at hand. + +'Better to end it all cleanly, Bill,' she said, in a low voice. +'It will hurt less.' + +He did not speak. + +'I'll come down to the gate with you.' + +They walked in silence down the drive. The air was heavy with +contentment. He hummed a tune. + +'Good-bye, Bill, dear.' + +He took her hand dully. + +'Good-bye,' he said. + +Elizabeth stood at the gate, watching. He swung down the road with +long strides. At the bend he turned and for a moment stood there, +as if waiting for her to make some sign. Then he fell into his +stride again and was gone. Elizabeth leaned on the gate. Her face +was twisted, and she clutched the warm wood as if it gave her +strength. + +The grounds were very empty. The spirit of loneliness brooded on +them. Elizabeth walked slowly back to the house. Nutty was coming +towards her from the orchard. + +'Halloa!' said Nutty. + +He was cheerful and debonair. His little eyes were alight with +contentment. He hummed a tune. + +'Where's Dawlish?' he said. + +'He has gone.' + +Nutty's tune failed in the middle of a bar. Something in his +sister's voice startled him. The glow of contentment gave way to a +look of alarm. + +'Gone? How do you mean--gone? You don't mean--gone?' + +'Yes.' + +'Gone away?' + +'Gone away.' + +They had reached the house before he spoke again. + +'You don't mean--gone away?' + +'Yes.' + +'Do you mean--gone away?' + +'Yes.' + +'You aren't going to marry him?' + +'No.' + +The world stood still. The noise of the crickets and all the +little sounds of summer smote on Nutty's ear in one discordant +shriek. + +'Oh, gosh!' he exclaimed, faintly, and collapsed on the front +steps like a jelly-fish. + + + + +23 + + +The spectacle of Nutty in his anguish did not touch Elizabeth. +Normally a kind-hearted girl, she was not in the least sorry for +him. She had even taken a bitter pleasure and found a momentary +relief in loosing the thunderbolt which had smitten him down. Even +if it has to manufacture it, misery loves company. She watched +Nutty with a cold and uninterested eye as he opened his mouth +feebly, shut it again and reopened it; and then when it became +apparent that these manoeuvres were about to result in speech, she +left him and walked quickly down the drive again. She had the +feeling that if Nutty were to begin to ask her questions--and he +had the aspect of one who is about to ask a thousand--she would +break down. She wanted solitude and movement, so she left Nutty +sitting and started for the gate. Presently she would go and do +things among the beehives; and after that, if that brought no +solace, she would go in and turn the house upside down and get +dusty and tired. Anything to occupy herself. + +Reaction had set in. She had known it would come, and had made +ready to fight against it, but she had underestimated the strength +of the enemy. It seemed to her, in those first minutes, that she +had done a mad thing; that all those arguments which she had used +were far-fetched and ridiculous. It was useless to tell herself +that she had thought the whole thing out clearly and had taken the +only course that could have been taken. With Bill's departure the +power to face the situation steadily had left her. All she could +think of was that she loved him and that she had sent him away. + +Why had he listened to her? Why hadn't he taken her in his arms +and told her not to be a little fool? Why did men ever listen to +women? If he had really loved her, would he have gone away? She +tormented herself with this last question for a while. She was +still tormenting herself with it when a melancholy voice broke in +on her meditations. + +'I can't believe it,' said the voice. She turned, to perceive +Nutty drooping beside her. 'I simply can't believe it!' + +Elizabeth clenched her teeth. She was not in the mood for Nutty. + +'It will gradually sink in,' she said, unsympathetically. + +'Did you really send him away?' + +'I did.' + +'But what on earth for?' + +'Because it was the only thing to do.' + +A light shone on Nutty's darkness. + +'Oh, I say, did he hear what I said last night?' + +'He did hear what you said last night.' + +Nutty's mouth opened slowly. + +'Oh!' + +Elizabeth said nothing. + +'But you could have explained that.' + +'How?' + +'Oh, I don't know--somehow or other.' He appeared to think. 'But +you said it was you who sent him away.' + +'I did.' + +'Well, this beats me!' + +Elizabeth's strained patience reached the limit. + +'Nutty, please!' she said. 'Don't let's talk about it. It's all +over now.' + +'Yes, but--' + +'Nutty, don't! I can't stand it. I'm raw all over. I'm hating +myself. Please don't make it worse.' + +Nutty looked at her face, and decided not to make it worse. But +his anguish demanded some outlet. He found it in soliloquy. + +'Just like this for the rest of our lives!' he murmured, taking in +the farm-grounds and all that in them stood with one glassy stare +of misery. 'Nothing but ghastly bees and sweeping floors and +fetching water till we die of old age! That is, if those blighters +don't put me in jail for getting that money out of them. How was I +to know that it was obtaining money under false pretences? It +simply seemed to me a darned good way of collecting a few dollars. +I don't see how I'm ever going to pay them back, so I suppose it's +prison for me all right.' + +Elizabeth had been trying not to listen to him, but without +success. + +'I'll look after that, Nutty. I have a little money saved up, +enough to pay off what you owe. I was saving it for something +else, but never mind.' + +'Awfully good of you,' said Nutty, but his voice sounded almost +disappointed. He was in the frame of mind which resents alleviation +of its gloom. He would have preferred at that moment to be allowed to +round off the picture of the future which he was constructing in his +mind with a reel or two showing himself brooding in a cell. After +all, what difference did it make to a man of spacious tastes whether +he languished for the rest of his life in a jail or on a farm in the +country? Jail, indeed, was almost preferable. You knew where you were +when you were in prison. They didn't spring things on you. Whereas +life on a farm was nothing but one long succession of things sprung +on you. Now that Lord Dawlish had gone, he supposed that Elizabeth +would make him help her with the bees again. At this thought he +groaned aloud. When he contemplated a lifetime at Flack's, a lifetime +of bee-dodging and carpet-beating and water-lugging, and reflected +that, but for a few innocent words--words spoken, mark you, in a pure +spirit of kindliness and brotherly love with the object of putting a +bit of optimistic pep into sister!--he might have been in a position +to touch a millionaire brother-in-law for the needful whenever he +felt disposed, the iron entered into Nutty's soul. A rotten, rotten +world! + +Nutty had the sort of mind that moves in circles. After contemplating +for a time the rottenness of the world, he came back to the point +from which he had started. + +'I can't understand it,' he said. 'I can't believe it.' + +He kicked a small pebble that lay convenient to his foot. + +'You say you sent him away. If he had legged it on his own +account, because of what he heard me say, I could understand that. +But why should you--' + +It became evident to Elizabeth that, until some explanation of +this point was offered to him, Nutty would drift about in her +vicinity, moaning and shuffling his feet indefinitely. + +'I sent him away because I loved him,' she said, 'and because, +after what had happened, he could never be certain that I loved +him. Can you understand that?' + +'No,' said Nutty, frankly, 'I'm darned if I can! It sounds loony +to me.' + +'You can't see that it wouldn't have been fair to him to marry +him?' + +'No.' + +The doubts which she was trying to crush increased the violence of +their attack. It was not that she respected Nutty's judgement in +itself. It was that his view of what she had done chimed in so +neatly with her own. She longed for someone to tell her that she +had done right: someone who would bring back that feeling of +certainty which she had had during her talk with Bill. And in +these circumstances Nutty's attitude had more weight than on its +merits it deserved. She wished she could cry. She had a feeling +that if she once did that the right outlook would come back to +her. + +Nutty, meanwhile, had found another pebble and was kicking it +sombrely. He was beginning to perceive something of the intricate +and unfathomable workings of the feminine mind. He had always +looked on Elizabeth as an ordinary good fellow, a girl whose mind +worked in a more or less understandable way. She was not one of +those hysterical women you read about in the works of the +novelists; she was just a regular girl. And yet now, at the one +moment of her life when everything depended on her acting +sensibly, she had behaved in a way that made his head swim when he +thought of it. What it amounted to was that you simply couldn't +understand women. + +Into this tangle of silent sorrow came a hooting automobile. It +drew up at the gate and a man jumped out. + + + + +24 + + +The man who had alighted from the automobile was young and +cheerful. He wore a flannel suit of a gay blue and a straw hat +with a coloured ribbon, and he looked upon a world which, his +manner seemed to indicate, had been constructed according to his +own specifications through a single eyeglass. When he spoke it +became plain that his nationality was English. + +Nutty regarded his beaming countenance with a lowering hostility. +The indecency of anyone being cheerful at such a time struck him +forcibly. He would have liked mankind to have preserved till +further notice a hushed gloom. He glared at the young man. + +Elizabeth, such was her absorption in her thoughts, was not even +aware of his presence till he spoke to her. + +'I beg your pardon, is this Flack's?' + +She looked up and met that sunny eyeglass. + +'This is Flack's,' she said. + +'Thank you,' said the young man. + +The automobile, a stout, silent man at the helm, throbbed in the +nervous way automobiles have when standing still, suggesting +somehow that it were best to talk quick, as they can give you only +a few minutes before dashing on to keep some other appointment. +Either this or a natural volatility lent a breezy rapidity to the +visitor's speech. He looked at Elizabeth across the gate, which it +had not occurred to her to open, as if she were just what he had +expected her to be and a delight to his eyes, and burst into +speech. + +'My name's Nichols--J. Nichols. I expect you remember getting a +letter from me a week or two ago?' + +The name struck Elizabeth as familiar. But he had gone on to +identify himself before she could place it in her mind. + +'Lawyer, don't you know. Wrote you a letter telling you that your +Uncle Ira Nutcombe had left all his money to Lord Dawlish.' + +'Oh, yes,' said Elizabeth, and was about to invite him to pass the +barrier, when he began to speak again. + +'You know, I want to explain that letter. Wrote it on a sudden +impulse, don't you know. The more I have to do with the law, the +more it seems to hit me that a lawyer oughtn't to act on impulse. +At the moment, you see, it seemed to me the decent thing to do--put +you out of your misery, and so forth--stop your entertaining +hopes never to be realized, what? and all that sort of thing. You +see, it was like this: Bill--I mean Lord Dawlish--is a great pal +of mine, a dear old chap. You ought to know him. Well, being in +the know, you understand, through your uncle having deposited the +will with us, I gave Bill the tip directly I heard of Mr +Nutcombe's death. I sent him a telephone message to come to the +office, and I said: "Bill, old man, this old buster"--I beg your +pardon, this old gentleman--"has left you all his money." Quite +informal, don't you know, and at the same time, in the same +informal spirit, I wrote you the letter.' He dammed the torrent +for a moment. 'By the way, of course you are Miss Elizabeth Boyd, +what?' + +'Yes.' + +The young man seemed relieved. + +'I'm glad of that,' he said. 'Funny if you hadn't been. You'd have +wondered what on earth I was talking about.' + +In spite of her identity, this was precisely what Elizabeth was +doing. Her mind, still under a cloud, had been unable to +understand one word of Mr Nichols's discourse. Judging from his +appearance, which was that of a bewildered hosepipe or a snake +whose brain is being momentarily overtaxed, Nutty was in the same +difficulty. He had joined the group at the gate, abandoning the +pebble which he had been kicking in the background, and was now +leaning on the top bar, a picture of silent perplexity. + +'You see, the trouble is,' resumed the young man, 'my governor, +who's the head of the firm, is all for doing things according to +precedent. He loves red tape--wears it wrapped round him in winter +instead of flannel. He's all for doing things in the proper legal +way, which, as I dare say you know, takes months. And, meanwhile, +everybody's wondering what's happening and who has got the money, +and so on and so forth. I thought I would skip all that and let +you know right away exactly where you stood, so I wrote you that +letter. I don't think my temperament's quite suited to the law, +don't you know, and if he ever hears that I wrote you that letter +I have a notion that the governor will think so too. So I came +over here to ask you, if you don't mind, not to mention it when +you get in touch with the governor. I frankly admit that that +letter, written with the best intentions, was a bloomer.' + +With which manly admission the young man paused, and allowed the +rays of his eyeglass to play upon Elizabeth in silence. Elizabeth +tried to piece together what little she understood of his +monologue. + +'You mean that you want me not to tell your father that I got a +letter from you?' + +'Exactly that. And thanks very much for not saying "without +prejudice," or anything of that kind. The governor would have.' + +'But I don't understand. Why should you think that I should ever +mention anything to your father?' + +'Might slip out, you know, without your meaning it.' + +'But when? I shall never meet your father.' + +'You might quite easily. He might want to see you about the +money.' + +'The money?' + +The eyebrow above the eyeglass rose, surprised. + +'Haven't you had a letter from the governor?' + +'No.' + +The young man made a despairing gesture. + +'I took it for granted that it had come on the same boat that I +did. There you have the governor's methods! Couldn't want a better +example. I suppose some legal formality or other has cropped up +and laid him a stymie, and he's waiting to get round it. You +really mean he hasn't written? + +'Why, dash it,' said the young man, as one to whom all is +revealed, 'then you can't have understood a word of what I've been +saying!' + +For the first time Elizabeth found herself capable of smiling. She +liked this incoherent young man. + +'I haven't,' she said. + +'You don't know about the will?' + +'Only what you told me in your letter.' + +'Well, I'm hanged! Tell me--I hadn't the honour of knowing him +personally--was the late Mr Nutcombe's whole life as eccentric as +his will-making? It seems to me--' + +Nutty spoke. + +'Uncle Ira's middle name,' he said, 'was Bloomingdale. That,' he +proceeded, bitterly, 'is the frightful injustice of it all. I had +to suffer from it right along, and all I get, when it comes to a +finish, is a miserable hundred dollars. Uncle Ira insisted on +father and mother calling me Nutcombe; and whenever he got a new +craze I was always the one he worked it off on. You remember the +time he became a vegetarian, Elizabeth? Gosh!' Nutty brooded +coldly on the past. 'You remember the time he had it all worked +out that the end of the world was to come at five in the morning +one February? Made me stop up all night with him, reading Marcus +Aurelius! And the steam-heat turned off at twelve-thirty! I could +tell you a dozen things just as bad as that. He always picked on +me. And now I've gone through it all he leaves me a hundred +dollars!' + +Mr Nichols nodded sympathetically. + +'I should have imagined that he was rather like that. You know, of +course, why he made that will I wrote to you about, leaving all +his money to Bill Dawlish? Simply because Bill, who met him +golfing at a place in Cornwall in the off season, cured him of +slicing his approach-shots! I give you my word that was the only +reason. I'm sorry for old Bill, poor old chap. Such a good sort!' + +'He's all right,' said Nutty. 'But why you should be sorry for him +gets past me. A fellow who gets five million--' + +'But he doesn't, don't you see?' + +'How do you mean?' + +'Why, this other will puts him out of the running.' + +'Which other will?' + +'Why, the one I'm telling you about.' + +He looked from one to the other, apparently astonished at their +slowness of understanding. Then an idea occurred to him. + +'Why, now that I think of it, I never told you, did I? Yes, your +uncle made another will at the very last moment, leaving all he +possessed to Miss Boyd.' + +The dead silence in which his words were received stimulated him +to further speech. It occurred to him that, after that letter of +his, perhaps these people were wary about believing anything he +said. + +'It's absolutely true. It's the real, stable information this +time. I had it direct from the governor, who was there when he +made the will. He and the governor had had a row about something, +you know, and they made it up during those last days, and--Well, +apparently your uncle thought he had better celebrate it somehow, +so he made a new will. From what little I know of him, that was +the way he celebrated most things. I took it for granted the +governor would have written to you by this time. I expect you'll +hear by the next mail. You see, what brought me over was the idea +that when he wrote you might possibly take it into your heads to +mention having heard from me. You don't know my governor. If he +found out I had done that I should never hear the last of it. So I +said to him: "Gov'nor, I'm feeling a bit jaded. Been working too +hard, or something. I'll take a week or so off, if you can spare +me." He didn't object, so I whizzed over. Well, of course, I'm +awfully sorry for old Bill, but I congratulate you, Miss Boyd.' + +'What's the time?' said Elizabeth. + +Mr Nichols was surprised. He could not detect the connexion of +ideas. + +'It's about five to eleven,' he said, consulting his watch. + +The next moment he was even more surprised, for Elizabeth, making +nothing of the barrier of the gate, had rushed past him and was +even now climbing into his automobile. + +'Take me to the station, at once,' she was crying to the stout, +silent man, whom not even these surprising happenings had shaken +from his attitude of well-fed detachment. + +The stout man, ceasing to be silent, became interrogative. + +'Uh?' + +'Take me to the station. I must catch the eleven o'clock train.' + +The stout man was not a rapid thinker. He enveloped her in a +stodgy gaze. It was only too plain to Elizabeth that he was a man +who liked to digest one idea slowly before going on to absorb the +next. Jerry Nichols had told him to drive to Flack's. He had +driven to Flack's. Here he was at Flack's. Now this young woman +was telling him to drive to the station. It was a new idea, and he +bent himself to the Fletcherizing of it. + +'I'll give you ten dollars if you get me there by eleven,' shouted +Elizabeth. + +The car started as if it were some living thing that had had a +sharp instrument jabbed into it. Once or twice in his life it had +happened to the stout man to encounter an idea which he could +swallow at a gulp. This was one of them. + +Mr Nichols, following the car with a wondering eye, found that +Nutty was addressing him. + +'Is this really true?' said Nutty. + +'Absolute gospel.' + +A wild cry, a piercing whoop of pure joy, broke the summer +stillness. + +'Come and have a drink, old man!' babbled Nutty. 'This wants +celebrating!' His face fell. 'Oh, I was forgetting! I'm on the +wagon.' + +'On the wagon?' + +'Sworn off, you know. I'm never going to touch another drop as +long as I live. I began to see things--monkeys!' + +'I had a pal,' said Mr Nichols, sympathetically, 'who used to see +kangaroos.' + +Nutty seized him by the arm, hospitable though handicapped. + +'Come and have a bit of bread and butter, or a slice of cake or +something, and a glass of water. I want to tell you a lot more +about Uncle Ira, and I want to hear all about your end of it. Gee, +what a day!' + +'"The maddest, merriest of all the glad New Year,"' assented Mr +Nichols. 'A slice of that old 'eighty-seven cake. Just the thing!' + + + + +25 + + +Bill made his way along the swaying train to the smoking-car, +which was almost empty. It had come upon him overwhelmingly that +he needed tobacco. He was in the mood when a man must either smoke +or give up altogether the struggle with Fate. He lit his pipe, and +looked out of the window at Long Island racing past him. It was +only a blur to him. + +The conductor was asking for tickets. Bill showed his mechanically, +and the conductor passed on. Then he settled down once more to his +thoughts. He could not think coherently yet. His walk to the station +had been like a walk in a dream. He was conscious of a great, dull +pain that weighed on his mind, smothering it. The trees and houses +still moved past him in the same indistinguishable blur. + +He became aware that the conductor was standing beside him, saying +something about a ticket. He produced his once more, but this did +not seem to satisfy the conductor. To get rid of the man, who was +becoming a nuisance, he gave him his whole attention, as far as +that smothering weight would allow him to give his whole attention +to anything, and found that the man was saying strange things. He +thought that he could not have heard him correctly. + +'What?' he said. + +'Lady back there told me to collect her fare from you,' repeated +the conductor. 'Said you would pay.' + +Bill blinked. Either there was some mistake or trouble had turned +his brain. He pushed himself together with a supreme effort. + +'A lady said I would pay her fare?' + +'Yes.' + +'But--but why?' demanded Bill, feebly. + +The conductor seemed unwilling to go into first causes. + +'Search me!' he replied. + +'Pay her fare!' + +'Told me to collect it off the gentleman in the grey suit in the +smoking-car. You're the only one that's got a grey suit.' + +'There's some mistake.' + +'Not mine.' + +'What does she look like?' + +The conductor delved in his mind for adjectives. + +'Small,' he said, collecting them slowly. 'Brown eyes--' + +He desisted from his cataloguing at this point, for, with a loud +exclamation, Bill had dashed away. + +Two cars farther back he had dropped into the seat by Elizabeth +and was gurgling wordlessly. A massive lady, who had entered the +train at East Moriches in company with three children and a cat in +a basket, eyed him with a curiosity that she made no attempt to +conceal. Two girls in a neighbouring seat leaned forward eagerly +to hear all. This was because one of them had told the other that +Elizabeth was Mary Pickford. Her companion was sceptical, but +nevertheless obviously impressed. + +'My God!' said Bill. + +The massive lady told the three children sharply to look at their +picture-book. + +'Well, I'm hanged!' + +The mother of three said that if her offspring did not go right +along to the end of the car and look at the pretty trees trouble +must infallibly ensue. + +'Elizabeth!' At the sound of the name the two girls leaned back, +taking no further interest in the proceedings. + +'What are you doing here?' + +Elizabeth smiled, a shaky but encouraging smile. + +'I came after you, Bill.' + +'You've got no hat!' + +'I was in too much of a hurry to get one, and I gave all my money +to the man who drove the car. That's why I had to ask you to pay +my fare. You see, I'm not too proud to use your money after all.' + +'Then--' + +'Tickets please. One seventy-nine.' + +It was the indefatigable conductor, sensible of his duty to the +company and resolved that nothing should stand in the way of its +performance. Bill gave him five dollars and told him to keep the +change. The conductor saw eye to eye with him in this. + +'Bill! You gave him--' She gave a little shrug of her shoulders. +'Well, it's lucky you're going to marry a rich girl.' + +A look of the utmost determination overspread Bill's face. + +'I don't know what you're talking about. I'm going to marry you. +Now that I've got you again I'm not going to let you go. You can +use all the arguments you like, but it won't matter. I was a fool +ever to listen. If you try the same sort of thing again I'm just +going to pick you up and carry you off. I've been thinking it over +since I left you. My mind has been working absolutely clearly. +I've gone into the whole thing. It's perfect rot to take the +attitude you did. We know we love each other, and I'm not going to +listen to any talk about time making us doubt it. Time will only +make us love each other all the more.' + +'Why, Bill, this is eloquence.' + +'I feel eloquent.' + +The stout lady ceased to listen. They had lowered their voices and +she was hard of hearing. She consoled herself by taking up her +copy of Gingery Stories and burying herself in the hectic +adventures of a young millionaire and an artist's model. + +Elizabeth caught a fleeting glimpse of the cover. + +'I bet there's a story in there of a man named Harold who was too +proud to marry a girl, though he loved her, because she was rich +and he wasn't. You wouldn't be so silly as that, Bill, would you?' + +'It's the other way about with me.' + +'No, it's not. Bill, do you know a man named Nichols?' + +'Nichols?' + +'J. Nichols. He said he knew you. He said he had told you about +Uncle Ira leaving you his money.' + +'Jerry Nichols! How on earth--Oh, I remember. He wrote to you, +didn't he?' + +'He did. And this morning, just after you had left, he called.' + +'Jerry Nichols called?' + +'To tell me that Uncle Ira had made another will before he died, +leaving the money to me.' + +Their eyes met. + +'So I stole his car and caught the train,' said Elizabeth, simply. + +Bill was recovering slowly from the news. + +'But--this makes rather a difference, you know,' he said. + +'In what way?' + +'Well, what I mean to say is, you've got five million dollars and +I've got two thousand a year, don't you know, and so--' + +Elizabeth tapped him on the knee. + +'Bill, do you see what this is in my hand?' + +'Eh? What?' + +'It's a pin. And I'm going to dig it right into you wherever I +think it will hurt most, unless you stop being Harold at once. +I'll tell you exactly what you've got to do, and you needn't think +you're going to do anything else. When we get to New York, I first +borrow the money from you to buy a hat, and then we walk to the +City Hall, where you go to the window marked "Marriage Licences", +and buy one. It will cost you one dollar. You will give your +correct name and age and you will hear mine. It will come as a +shock to you to know that my second name is something awful! I've +kept it concealed all my life. After we've done that we shall go +to the only church that anybody could possibly be married in. It's +on Twenty-ninth Street, just round the corner from Fifth Avenue. +It's got a fountain playing in front of it, and it's a little bit +of heaven dumped right down in the middle of New York. And after +that--well, we might start looking about for that farm we've +talked of. We can get a good farm for five million dollars, and +leave something over to be doled out--cautiously--to Nutty. + +'And then all we have to do is to live happily ever after.' + +Something small and soft slipped itself into his hand, just as it +had done ages and ages ago in Lady Wetherby's wood. + +It stimulated Bill's conscience to one last remonstrance. + +'But, I say, you know--' + +'Well?' + +'This business of the money, you know. What I mean to say is--Ow!' + +He broke off, as a sharp pain manifested itself in the fleshy part +of his leg. Elizabeth was looking at him reprovingly, her weapon +poised for another onslaught. + +'I told you!' she said. + +'All right, I won't do it again.' + +'That's a good child. Bill, listen. Come closer and tell me all +sorts of nice things about myself till we get to Jamaica, and then +I'll tell you what I think of you. We've just passed Islip, so +you've plenty of time.' + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Uneasy Money, by P.G. Wodehouse + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK UNEASY MONEY *** + +This file should be named nsmny10.txt or nsmny10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, nsmny11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, nsmny10a.txt + +Produced by Suzanne L. Shell, Tom Allen, Charles Franks +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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