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Wodehouse + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .75em; margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%; text-align: justify; font-size: 80%; font-style: italic;} + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + .xx-small {font-size: 60%;} + .x-small {font-size: 75%;} + .small {font-size: 85%;} + .large {font-size: 115%;} + .x-large {font-size: 130%;} + .indent5 { margin-left: 5%;} + .indent10 { margin-left: 10%;} + .indent15 { margin-left: 15%;} + .indent20 { margin-left: 20%;} + .indent25 { margin-left: 25%;} + .indent30 { margin-left: 30%;} + .indent35 { margin-left: 35%;} + .indent40 { margin-left: 40%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {position: absolute; right: 1%; font-size: 0.6em; + font-variant: normal; font-style: normal; + text-align: right; background-color: #FFFACD; + border: 1px solid; padding: 0.3em;text-indent: 0em;} + .side { float: left; font-size: 75%; width: 15%; padding-left: 0.8em; + border-left: dashed thin; text-align: left; + text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; + font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;} + .head { float: left; font-size: 90%; width: 98%; padding-left: 0.8em; + border-left: dashed thin; text-align: center; + text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; + font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;} + p.pfirst, p.noindent {text-indent: 0} + span.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 0.8 } + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Man with Two Left Feet, 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: The Man with Two Left Feet + and Other Stories + +Author: P. G. Wodehouse + +Release Date: February, 2005 [EBook #7471] +First Posted: May 6, 2003 +Last Updated: November 11, 2018 + + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN WITH TWO LEFT FEET *** + + + + +Etext Produced by Suzanne L. Shell, Charles Franks and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team + +HTML file produced by David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <div style="height: 8em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + THE MAN WITH TWO LEFT FEET + </h1> + <h2> + <i>And Other Stories</i> + </h2> + <h2> + By P. G. WODEHOUSE + </h2> + <h4> + 1917 + </h4> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + CONTENTS + </h3> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto" cellpadding="4" border="3"> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> BILL THE BLOODHOUND </a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> EXTRICATING YOUNG GUSSIE </a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> WILTON'S HOLIDAY </a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> THE MIXER </a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> CROWNED HEADS </a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> AT GEISENHEIMER'S </a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> THE MAKING OF MAC'S </a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> ONE TOUCH OF NATURE </a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> BLACK FOR LUCK </a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> THE ROMANCE OF AN UGLY POLICEMAN </a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> A SEA OF TROUBLES </a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> THE MAN WITH TWO LEFT FEET </a> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BILL THE BLOODHOUND + </h2> + <p> + There's a divinity that shapes our ends. Consider the case of Henry + Pifield Rice, detective. + </p> + <p> + I must explain Henry early, to avoid disappointment. If I simply said he + was a detective, and let it go at that, I should be obtaining the reader's + interest under false pretences. He was really only a sort of detective, a + species of sleuth. At Stafford's International Investigation Bureau, in + the Strand, where he was employed, they did not require him to solve + mysteries which had baffled the police. He had never measured a footprint + in his life, and what he did not know about bloodstains would have filled + a library. The sort of job they gave Henry was to stand outside a + restaurant in the rain, and note what time someone inside left it. In + short, it is not 'Pifield Rice, Investigator. No. 1.—The Adventure + of the Maharajah's Ruby' that I submit to your notice, but the + unsensational doings of a quite commonplace young man, variously known to + his comrades at the Bureau as 'Fathead', 'That blighter what's-his-name', + and 'Here, you!' + </p> + <p> + Henry lived in a boarding-house in Guildford Street. One day a new girl + came to the boarding-house, and sat next to Henry at meals. Her name was + Alice Weston. She was small and quiet, and rather pretty. They got on + splendidly. Their conversation, at first confined to the weather and the + moving-pictures, rapidly became more intimate. Henry was surprised to find + that she was on the stage, in the chorus. Previous chorus-girls at the + boarding-house had been of a more pronounced type—good girls, but + noisy, and apt to wear beauty-spots. Alice Weston was different. + </p> + <p> + 'I'm rehearsing at present,' she said. 'I'm going out on tour next month + in "The Girl From Brighton". What do you do, Mr Rice?' + </p> + <p> + Henry paused for a moment before replying. He knew how sensational he was + going to be. + </p> + <p> + 'I'm a detective.' + </p> + <p> + Usually, when he told girls his profession, squeaks of amazed admiration + greeted him. Now he was chagrined to perceive in the brown eyes that met + his distinct disapproval. + </p> + <p> + 'What's the matter?' he said, a little anxiously, for even at this early + stage in their acquaintance he was conscious of a strong desire to win her + approval. 'Don't you like detectives?' + </p> + <p> + 'I don't know. Somehow I shouldn't have thought you were one.' + </p> + <p> + This restored Henry's equanimity somewhat. Naturally a detective does not + want to look like a detective and give the whole thing away right at the + start. + </p> + <p> + 'I think—you won't be offended?' + </p> + <p> + 'Go on.' + </p> + <p> + 'I've always looked on it as rather a <i>sneaky</i> job.' + </p> + <p> + 'Sneaky!' moaned Henry. + </p> + <p> + 'Well, creeping about, spying on people.' + </p> + <p> + Henry was appalled. She had defined his own trade to a nicety. There might + be detectives whose work was above this reproach, but he was a confirmed + creeper, and he knew it. It wasn't his fault. The boss told him to creep, + and he crept. If he declined to creep, he would be sacked <i>instanter</i>. + It was hard, and yet he felt the sting of her words, and in his bosom the + first seeds of dissatisfaction with his occupation took root. + </p> + <p> + You might have thought that this frankness on the girl's part would have + kept Henry from falling in love with her. Certainly the dignified thing + would have been to change his seat at table, and take his meals next to + someone who appreciated the romance of detective work a little more. But + no, he remained where he was, and presently Cupid, who never shoots with a + surer aim than through the steam of boarding-house hash, sniped him where + he sat. + </p> + <p> + He proposed to Alice Weston. She refused him. + </p> + <p> + 'It's not because I'm not fond of you. I think you're the nicest man I + ever met.' A good deal of assiduous attention had enabled Henry to win + this place in her affections. He had worked patiently and well before + actually putting his fortune to the test. 'I'd marry you tomorrow if + things were different. But I'm on the stage, and I mean to stick there. + Most of the girls want to get off it, but not me. And one thing I'll never + do is marry someone who isn't in the profession. My sister Genevieve did, + and look what happened to her. She married a commercial traveller, and + take it from me he travelled. She never saw him for more than five minutes + in the year, except when he was selling gent's hosiery in the same town + where she was doing her refined speciality, and then he'd just wave his + hand and whiz by, and start travelling again. My husband has got to be + close by, where I can see him. I'm sorry, Henry, but I know I'm right.' + </p> + <p> + It seemed final, but Henry did not wholly despair. He was a resolute young + man. You have to be to wait outside restaurants in the rain for any length + of time. + </p> + <p> + He had an inspiration. He sought out a dramatic agent. + </p> + <p> + 'I want to go on the stage, in musical comedy.' + </p> + <p> + 'Let's see you dance.' + </p> + <p> + 'I can't dance.' + </p> + <p> + 'Sing,' said the agent. 'Stop singing,' added the agent, hastily. + </p> + <p> + 'You go away and have a nice cup of hot tea,' said the agent, soothingly, + 'and you'll be as right as anything in the morning.' + </p> + <p> + Henry went away. + </p> + <p> + A few days later, at the Bureau, his fellow-detective Simmonds hailed him. + </p> + <p> + 'Here, you! The boss wants you. Buck up!' + </p> + <p> + Mr Stafford was talking into the telephone. He replaced the receiver as + Henry entered. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, Rice, here's a woman wants her husband shadowed while he's on the + road. He's an actor. I'm sending you. Go to this address, and get + photographs and all particulars. You'll have to catch the eleven o'clock + train on Friday.' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, sir.' + </p> + <p> + 'He's in "The Girl From Brighton" company. They open at Bristol.' + </p> + <p> + It sometimes seemed to Henry as if Fate did it on purpose. If the + commission had had to do with any other company, it would have been well + enough, for, professionally speaking, it was the most important with which + he had ever been entrusted. If he had never met Alice Weston, and heard + her views upon detective work, he would have been pleased and flattered. + Things being as they were, it was Henry's considered opinion that Fate had + slipped one over on him. + </p> + <p> + In the first place, what torture to be always near her, unable to reveal + himself; to watch her while she disported herself in the company of other + men. He would be disguised, and she would not recognize him; but he would + recognize her, and his sufferings would be dreadful. + </p> + <p> + In the second place, to have to do his creeping about and spying + practically in her presence— + </p> + <p> + Still, business was business. + </p> + <p> + At five minutes to eleven on the morning named he was at the station, a + false beard and spectacles shielding his identity from the public eye. If + you had asked him he would have said that he was a Scotch business man. As + a matter of fact, he looked far more like a motor-car coming through a + haystack. + </p> + <p> + The platform was crowded. Friends of the company had come to see the + company off. Henry looked on discreetly from behind a stout porter, whose + bulk formed a capital screen. In spite of himself, he was impressed. The + stage at close quarters always thrilled him. He recognized celebrities. + The fat man in the brown suit was Walter Jelliffe, the comedian and star + of the company. He stared keenly at him through the spectacles. Others of + the famous were scattered about. He saw Alice. She was talking to a man + with a face like a hatchet, and smiling, too, as if she enjoyed it. Behind + the matted foliage which he had inflicted on his face, Henry's teeth came + together with a snap. + </p> + <p> + In the weeks that followed, as he dogged 'The Girl From Brighton' company + from town to town, it would be difficult to say whether Henry was happy or + unhappy. On the one hand, to realize that Alice was so near and yet so + inaccessible was a constant source of misery; yet, on the other, he could + not but admit that he was having the very dickens of a time, loafing round + the country like this. + </p> + <p> + He was made for this sort of life, he considered. Fate had placed him in a + London office, but what he really enjoyed was this unfettered travel. Some + gipsy strain in him rendered even the obvious discomforts of theatrical + touring agreeable. He liked catching trains; he liked invading strange + hotels; above all, he revelled in the artistic pleasure of watching + unsuspecting fellow-men as if they were so many ants. + </p> + <p> + That was really the best part of the whole thing. It was all very well for + Alice to talk about creeping and spying, but, if you considered it without + bias, there was nothing degrading about it at all. It was an art. It took + brains and a genius for disguise to make a man a successful creeper and + spyer. You couldn't simply say to yourself, 'I will creep.' If you + attempted to do it in your own person, you would be detected instantly. + You had to be an adept at masking your personality. You had to be one man + at Bristol and another quite different man at Hull—especially if, + like Henry, you were of a gregarious disposition, and liked the society of + actors. + </p> + <p> + The stage had always fascinated Henry. To meet even minor members of the + profession off the boards gave him a thrill. There was a resting juvenile, + of fit-up calibre, at his boarding-house who could always get a shilling + out of him simply by talking about how he had jumped in and saved the show + at the hamlets which he had visited in the course of his wanderings. And + on this 'Girl From Brighton' tour he was in constant touch with men who + really amounted to something. Walter Jelliffe had been a celebrity when + Henry was going to school; and Sidney Crane, the baritone, and others of + the lengthy cast, were all players not unknown in London. Henry courted + them assiduously. + </p> + <p> + It had not been hard to scrape acquaintance with them. The principals of + the company always put up at the best hotel, and—his expenses being + paid by his employer—so did Henry. It was the easiest thing possible + to bridge with a well-timed whisky-and-soda the gulf between + non-acquaintance and warm friendship. Walter Jelliffe, in particular, was + peculiarly accessible. Every time Henry accosted him—as a different + individual, of course—and renewed in a fresh disguise the friendship + which he had enjoyed at the last town, Walter Jelliffe met him more than + half-way. + </p> + <p> + It was in the sixth week of the tour that the comedian, promoting him from + mere casual acquaintanceship, invited him to come up to his room and smoke + a cigar. + </p> + <p> + Henry was pleased and flattered. Jelliffe was a personage, always + surrounded by admirers, and the compliment was consequently of a high + order. + </p> + <p> + He lit his cigar. Among his friends at the Green-Room Club it was + unanimously held that Walter Jelliffe's cigars brought him within the + scope of the law forbidding the carrying of concealed weapons; but Henry + would have smoked the gift of such a man if it had been a cabbage-leaf. He + puffed away contentedly. He was made up as an old Indian colonel that + week, and he complimented his host on the aroma with a fine old-world + courtesy. + </p> + <p> + Walter Jelliffe seemed gratified. + </p> + <p> + 'Quite comfortable?' he asked. + </p> + <p> + 'Quite, I thank you,' said Henry, fondling his silver moustache. + </p> + <p> + 'That's right. And now tell me, old man, which of us is it you're + trailing?' + </p> + <p> + Henry nearly swallowed his cigar. + </p> + <p> + 'What do you mean?' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, come,' protested Jelliffe; 'there's no need to keep it up with me. I + know you're a detective. The question is, Who's the man you're after? + That's what we've all been wondering all this time.' + </p> + <p> + All! They had all been wondering! It was worse than Henry could have + imagined. Till now he had pictured his position with regard to 'The Girl + From Brighton' company rather as that of some scientist who, seeing but + unseen, keeps a watchful eye on the denizens of a drop of water under his + microscope. And they had all detected him—every one of them. + </p> + <p> + It was a stunning blow. If there was one thing on which Henry prided + himself it was the impenetrability of his disguises. He might be slow; he + might be on the stupid side; but he could disguise himself. He had a + variety of disguises, each designed to befog the public more hopelessly + than the last. + </p> + <p> + Going down the street, you would meet a typical commercial traveller, + dapper and alert. Anon, you encountered a heavily bearded Australian. + Later, maybe, it was a courteous old retired colonel who stopped you and + inquired the way to Trafalgar Square. Still later, a rather flashy + individual of the sporting type asked you for a match for his cigar. Would + you have suspected for one instant that each of these widely differing + personalities was in reality one man? + </p> + <p> + Certainly you would. + </p> + <p> + Henry did not know it, but he had achieved in the eyes of the small + servant who answered the front-door bell at his boarding-house a + well-established reputation as a humorist of the more practical kind. It + was his habit to try his disguises on her. He would ring the bell, inquire + for the landlady, and when Bella had gone, leap up the stairs to his room. + Here he would remove the disguise, resume his normal appearance, and come + downstairs again, humming a careless air. Bella, meanwhile, in the + kitchen, would be confiding to her ally the cook that 'Mr Rice had jest + come in, lookin' sort o' funny again'. + </p> + <p> + He sat and gaped at Walter Jelliffe. The comedian regarded him curiously. + </p> + <p> + 'You look at least a hundred years old,' he said. 'What are you made up + as? A piece of Gorgonzola?' + </p> + <p> + Henry glanced hastily at the mirror. Yes, he did look rather old. He must + have overdone some of the lines on his forehead. He looked something + between a youngish centenarian and a nonagenarian who had seen a good deal + of trouble. + </p> + <p> + 'If you knew how you were demoralizing the company,' Jelliffe went on, + 'you would drop it. As steady and quiet a lot of boys as ever you met till + you came along. Now they do nothing but bet on what disguise you're going + to choose for the next town. I don't see why you need to change so often. + You were all right as the Scotchman at Bristol. We were all saying how + nice you looked. You should have stuck to that. But what do you do at Hull + but roll in in a scrubby moustache and a tweed suit, looking rotten. + However, all that is beside the point. It's a free country. If you like to + spoil your beauty, I suppose there's no law against it. What I want to + know is, who's the man? Whose track are you sniffing on, Bill? You'll + pardon my calling you Bill. You're known as Bill the Bloodhound in the + company. Who's the man?' + </p> + <p> + 'Never mind,' said Henry. + </p> + <p> + He was aware, as he made it, that it was not a very able retort, but he + was feeling too limp for satisfactory repartee. Criticisms in the Bureau, + dealing with his alleged solidity of skull, he did not resent. He + attributed them to man's natural desire to chaff his fellow-man. But to be + unmasked by the general public in this way was another matter. It struck + at the root of all things. + </p> + <p> + 'But I do mind,' objected Jelliffe. 'It's most important. A lot of money + hangs on it. We've got a sweepstake on in the company, the holder of the + winning name to take the entire receipts. Come on. Who is he?' + </p> + <p> + Henry rose and made for the door. His feelings were too deep for words. + Even a minor detective has his professional pride; and the knowledge that + his espionage is being made the basis of sweepstakes by his quarry cuts + this to the quick. + </p> + <p> + 'Here, don't go! Where are you going?' + </p> + <p> + 'Back to London,' said Henry, bitterly. 'It's a lot of good my staying + here now, isn't it?' + </p> + <p> + 'I should say it was—to me. Don't be in a hurry. You're thinking + that, now we know all about you, your utility as a sleuth has waned to + some extent. Is that it?' + </p> + <p> + 'Well?' + </p> + <p> + 'Well, why worry? What does it matter to you? You don't get paid by + results, do you? Your boss said "Trail along." Well, do it, then. I should + hate to lose you. I don't suppose you know it, but you've been the best + mascot this tour that I've ever come across. Right from the start we've + been playing to enormous business. I'd rather kill a black cat than lose + you. Drop the disguises, and stay with us. Come behind all you want, and + be sociable.' + </p> + <p> + A detective is only human. The less of a detective, the more human he is. + Henry was not much of a detective, and his human traits were consequently + highly developed. From a boy, he had never been able to resist curiosity. + If a crowd collected in the street he always added himself to it, and he + would have stopped to gape at a window with 'Watch this window' written on + it, if he had been running for his life from wild bulls. He was, and + always had been, intensely desirous of some day penetrating behind the + scenes of a theatre. + </p> + <p> + And there was another thing. At last, if he accepted this invitation, he + would be able to see and speak to Alice Weston, and interfere with the + manoeuvres of the hatchet-faced man, on whom he had brooded with suspicion + and jealousy since that first morning at the station. To see Alice! + Perhaps, with eloquence, to talk her out of that ridiculous resolve of + hers! + </p> + <p> + 'Why, there's something in that,' he said. + </p> + <p> + 'Rather! Well, that's settled. And now, touching that sweep, who <i>is</i> + it?' + </p> + <p> + 'I can't tell you that. You see, so far as that goes, I'm just where I was + before. I can still watch—whoever it is I'm watching.' + </p> + <p> + 'Dash it, so you can. I didn't think of that,' said Jelliffe, who + possessed a sensitive conscience. 'Purely between ourselves, it isn't <i>me</i>, + is it?' + </p> + <p> + Henry eyed him inscrutably. He could look inscrutable at times. + </p> + <p> + 'Ah!' he said, and left quickly, with the feeling that, however poorly he + had shown up during the actual interview, his exit had been good. He might + have been a failure in the matter of disguise, but nobody could have put + more quiet sinister-ness into that 'Ah!' It did much to soothe him and + ensure a peaceful night's rest. + </p> + <p> + On the following night, for the first time in his life, Henry found + himself behind the scenes of a theatre, and instantly began to experience + all the complex emotions which come to the layman in that situation. That + is to say, he felt like a cat which has strayed into a strange hostile + back-yard. He was in a new world, inhabited by weird creatures, who + flitted about in an eerie semi-darkness, like brightly coloured animals in + a cavern. + </p> + <p> + 'The Girl From Brighton' was one of those exotic productions specially + designed for the Tired Business Man. It relied for a large measure of its + success on the size and appearance of its chorus, and on their constant + change of costume. Henry, as a consequence, was the centre of a + kaleidoscopic whirl of feminine loveliness, dressed to represent such + varying flora and fauna as rabbits, Parisian students, colleens, Dutch + peasants, and daffodils. Musical comedy is the Irish stew of the drama. + Anything may be put into it, with the certainty that it will improve the + general effect. + </p> + <p> + He scanned the throng for a sight of Alice. Often as he had seen the piece + in the course of its six weeks' wandering in the wilderness he had never + succeeded in recognizing her from the front of the house. Quite possibly, + he thought, she might be on the stage already, hidden in a rose-tree or + some other shrub, ready at the signal to burst forth upon the audience in + short skirts; for in 'The Girl From Brighton' almost anything could turn + suddenly into a chorus-girl. + </p> + <p> + Then he saw her, among the daffodils. She was not a particularly + convincing daffodil, but she looked good to Henry. With wabbling knees he + butted his way through the crowd and seized her hand enthusiastically. + </p> + <p> + 'Why, Henry! Where did you come from?' + </p> + <p> + 'I <i>am</i> glad to see you!' + </p> + <p> + 'How did you get here?' + </p> + <p> + 'I <i>am</i> glad to see you!' + </p> + <p> + At this point the stage-manager, bellowing from the prompt-box, urged + Henry to desist. It is one of the mysteries of behind-the-scenes acoustics + that a whisper from any minor member of the company can be heard all over + the house, while the stage-manager can burst himself without annoying the + audience. + </p> + <p> + Henry, awed by authority, relapsed into silence. From the unseen stage + came the sound of someone singing a song about the moon. June was also + mentioned. He recognized the song as one that had always bored him. He + disliked the woman who was singing it—a Miss Clarice Weaver, who + played the heroine of the piece to Sidney Crane's hero. + </p> + <p> + In his opinion he was not alone. Miss Weaver was not popular in the + company. She had secured the role rather as a testimony of personal esteem + from the management than because of any innate ability. She sang badly, + acted indifferently, and was uncertain what to do with her hands. All + these things might have been forgiven her, but she supplemented them by + the crime known in stage circles as 'throwing her weight about'. That is + to say, she was hard to please, and, when not pleased, apt to say so in no + uncertain voice. To his personal friends Walter Jelliffe had frequently + confided that, though not a rich man, he was in the market with a + substantial reward for anyone who was man enough to drop a ton of iron on + Miss Weaver. + </p> + <p> + Tonight the song annoyed Henry more than usual, for he knew that very soon + the daffodils were due on the stage to clinch the verisimilitude of the + scene by dancing the tango with the rabbits. He endeavoured to make the + most of the time at his disposal. + </p> + <p> + 'I <i>am</i> glad to see you!' he said. + </p> + <p> + 'Sh-h!' said the stage-manager. + </p> + <p> + Henry was discouraged. Romeo could not have made love under these + conditions. And then, just when he was pulling himself together to begin + again, she was torn from him by the exigencies of the play. + </p> + <p> + He wandered moodily off into the dusty semi-darkness. He avoided the + prompt-box, whence he could have caught a glimpse of her, being loath to + meet the stage-manager just at present. + </p> + <p> + Walter Jelliffe came up to him, as he sat on a box and brooded on life. + </p> + <p> + 'A little less of the double forte, old man,' he said. 'Miss Weaver has + been kicking about the noise on the side. She wanted you thrown out, but I + said you were my mascot, and I would die sooner than part with you. But I + should go easy on the chest-notes, I think, all the same.' + </p> + <p> + Henry nodded moodily. He was depressed. He had the feeling, which comes so + easily to the intruder behind the scenes, that nobody loved him. + </p> + <p> + The piece proceeded. From the front of the house roars of laughter + indicated the presence on the stage of Walter Jelliffe, while now and then + a lethargic silence suggested that Miss Clarice Weaver was in action. From + time to time the empty space about him filled with girls dressed in + accordance with the exuberant fancy of the producer of the piece. When + this happened, Henry would leap from his seat and endeavour to locate + Alice; but always, just as he thought he had done so, the hidden orchestra + would burst into melody and the chorus would be called to the front. + </p> + <p> + It was not till late in the second act that he found an opportunity for + further speech. + </p> + <p> + The plot of 'The Girl From Brighton' had by then reached a critical stage. + The situation was as follows: The hero, having been disinherited by his + wealthy and titled father for falling in love with the heroine, a poor + shop-girl, has disguised himself (by wearing a different coloured necktie) + and has come in pursuit of her to a well-known seaside resort, where, + having disguised herself by changing her dress, she is serving as a + waitress in the Rotunda, on the Esplanade. The family butler, disguised as + a Bath-chair man, has followed the hero, and the wealthy and titled + father, disguised as an Italian opera-singer, has come to the place for a + reason which, though extremely sound, for the moment eludes the memory. + Anyhow, he is there, and they all meet on the Esplanade. Each recognizes + the other, but thinks he himself is unrecognized. <i>Exeunt</i> all, + hurriedly, leaving the heroine alone on the stage. + </p> + <p> + It is a crisis in the heroine's life. She meets it bravely. She sings a + song entitled 'My Honolulu Queen', with chorus of Japanese girls and + Bulgarian officers. + </p> + <p> + Alice was one of the Japanese girls. + </p> + <p> + She was standing a little apart from the other Japanese girls. Henry was + on her with a bound. Now was his time. He felt keyed up, full of + persuasive words. In the interval which had elapsed since their last + conversation yeasty emotions had been playing the dickens with his + self-control. It is practically impossible for a novice, suddenly + introduced behind the scenes of a musical comedy, not to fall in love with + somebody; and, if he is already in love, his fervour is increased to a + dangerous point. + </p> + <p> + Henry felt that it was now or never. He forgot that it was perfectly + possible—indeed, the reasonable course—to wait till the + performance was over, and renew his appeal to Alice to marry him on the + way back to her hotel. He had the feeling that he had got just about a + quarter of a minute. Quick action! That was Henry's slogan. + </p> + <p> + He seized her hand. + </p> + <p> + 'Alice!' + </p> + <p> + 'Sh-h!' hissed the stage-manager. + </p> + <p> + 'Listen! I love you. I'm crazy about you. What does it matter whether I'm + on the stage or not? I love you.' + </p> + <p> + 'Stop that row there!' + </p> + <p> + 'Won't you marry me?' + </p> + <p> + She looked at him. It seemed to him that she hesitated. + </p> + <p> + 'Cut it out!' bellowed the stage-manager, and Henry cut it out. + </p> + <p> + And at this moment, when his whole fate hung in the balance, there came + from the stage that devastating high note which is the sign that the solo + is over and that the chorus are now about to mobilize. As if drawn by some + magnetic power, she suddenly receded from him, and went on to the stage. + </p> + <p> + A man in Henry's position and frame of mind is not responsible for his + actions. He saw nothing but her; he was blind to the fact that important + manoeuvres were in progress. All he understood was that she was going from + him, and that he must stop her and get this thing settled. + </p> + <p> + He clutched at her. She was out of range, and getting farther away every + instant. + </p> + <p> + He sprang forward. + </p> + <p> + The advice that should be given to every young man starting life is—if + you happen to be behind the scenes at a theatre, never spring forward. The + whole architecture of the place is designed to undo those who so spring. + Hours before, the stage-carpenters have laid their traps, and in the + semi-darkness you cannot but fall into them. + </p> + <p> + The trap into which Henry fell was a raised board. It was not a very + highly-raised board. It was not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a + church-door, but 'twas enough—it served. Stubbing it squarely with + his toe, Henry shot forward, all arms and legs. + </p> + <p> + It is the instinct of Man, in such a situation, to grab at the nearest + support. Henry grabbed at the Hotel Superba, the pride of the Esplanade. + It was a thin wooden edifice, and it supported him for perhaps a tenth of + a second. Then he staggered with it into the limelight, tripped over a + Bulgarian officer who was inflating himself for a deep note, and finally + fell in a complicated heap as exactly in the centre of the stage as if he + had been a star of years' standing. + </p> + <p> + It went well; there was no question of that. Previous audiences had always + been rather cold towards this particular song, but this one got on its + feet and yelled for more. From all over the house came rapturous demands + that Henry should go back and do it again. + </p> + <p> + But Henry was giving no encores. He rose to his feet, a little stunned, + and automatically began to dust his clothes. The orchestra, unnerved by + this unrehearsed infusion of new business, had stopped playing. Bulgarian + officers and Japanese girls alike seemed unequal to the situation. They + stood about, waiting for the next thing to break loose. From somewhere far + away came faintly the voice of the stage-manager inventing new words, new + combinations of words, and new throat noises. + </p> + <p> + And then Henry, massaging a stricken elbow, was aware of Miss Weaver at + his side. Looking up, he caught Miss Weaver's eye. + </p> + <p> + A familiar stage-direction of melodrama reads, 'Exit cautious through gap + in hedge'. It was Henry's first appearance on any stage, but he did it + like a veteran. + </p> + <p> + 'My dear fellow,' said Walter Jelliffe. The hour was midnight, and he was + sitting in Henry's bedroom at the hotel. Leaving the theatre, Henry had + gone to bed almost instinctively. Bed seemed the only haven for him. 'My + dear fellow, don't apologize. You have put me under lasting obligations. + In the first place, with your unerring sense of the stage, you saw just + the spot where the piece needed livening up, and you livened it up. That + was good; but far better was it that you also sent our Miss Weaver into + violent hysterics, from which she emerged to hand in her notice. She + leaves us tomorrow.' + </p> + <p> + Henry was appalled at the extent of the disaster for which he was + responsible. + </p> + <p> + 'What will you do?' + </p> + <p> + 'Do! Why, it's what we have all been praying for—a miracle which + should eject Miss Weaver. It needed a genius like you to come to bring it + off. Sidney Crane's wife can play the part without rehearsal. She + understudied it all last season in London. Crane has just been speaking to + her on the phone, and she is catching the night express.' + </p> + <p> + Henry sat up in bed. + </p> + <p> + 'What!' + </p> + <p> + 'What's the trouble now?' + </p> + <p> + 'Sidney Crane's wife?' + </p> + <p> + 'What about her?' + </p> + <p> + A bleakness fell upon Henry's soul. + </p> + <p> + 'She was the woman who was employing me. Now I shall be taken off the job + and have to go back to London.' + </p> + <p> + 'You don't mean that it was really Crane's wife?' + </p> + <p> + Jelliffe was regarding him with a kind of awe. + </p> + <p> + 'Laddie,' he said, in a hushed voice, 'you almost scare me. There seems to + be no limit to your powers as a mascot. You fill the house every night, + you get rid of the Weaver woman, and now you tell me this. I drew Crane in + the sweep, and I would have taken twopence for my chance of winning it.' + </p> + <p> + 'I shall get a telegram from my boss tomorrow recalling me.' + </p> + <p> + 'Don't go. Stick with me. Join the troupe.' + </p> + <p> + Henry stared. + </p> + <p> + 'What do you mean? I can't sing or act.' + </p> + <p> + Jelliffe's voice thrilled with earnestness. + </p> + <p> + 'My boy, I can go down the Strand and pick up a hundred fellows who can + sing and act. I don't want them. I turn them away. But a seventh son of a + seventh son like you, a human horseshoe like you, a king of mascots like + you—they don't make them nowadays. They've lost the pattern. If you + like to come with me I'll give you a contract for any number of years you + suggest. I need you in my business.' He rose. 'Think it over, laddie, and + let me know tomorrow. Look here upon this picture, and on that. As a + sleuth you are poor. You couldn't detect a bass-drum in a telephone-booth. + You have no future. You are merely among those present. But as a mascot—my + boy, you're the only thing in sight. You can't help succeeding on the + stage. You don't have to know how to act. Look at the dozens of good + actors who are out of jobs. Why? Unlucky. No other reason. With your luck + and a little experience you'll be a star before you know you've begun. + Think it over, and let me know in the morning.' + </p> + <p> + Before Henry's eyes there rose a sudden vision of Alice: Alice no longer + unattainable; Alice walking on his arm down the aisle; Alice mending his + socks; Alice with her heavenly hands fingering his salary envelope. + </p> + <p> + 'Don't go,' he said. 'Don't go. I'll let you know now.' + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + The scene is the Strand, hard by Bedford Street; the time, that restful + hour of the afternoon when they of the gnarled faces and the bright + clothing gather together in groups to tell each other how good they are. + </p> + <p> + Hark! A voice. + </p> + <p> + 'Rather! Courtneidge and the Guv'nor keep on trying to get me, but I turn + them down every time. "No," I said to Malone only yesterday, "not for me! + I'm going with old Wally Jelliffe, the same as usual, and there isn't the + money in the Mint that'll get me away." Malone got all worked up. He—' + </p> + <p> + It is the voice of Pifield Rice, actor. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + EXTRICATING YOUNG GUSSIE + </h2> + <p> + She sprang it on me before breakfast. There in seven words you have a + complete character sketch of my Aunt Agatha. I could go on indefinitely + about brutality and lack of consideration. I merely say that she routed me + out of bed to listen to her painful story somewhere in the small hours. It + can't have been half past eleven when Jeeves, my man, woke me out of the + dreamless and broke the news: + </p> + <p> + 'Mrs Gregson to see you, sir.' + </p> + <p> + I thought she must be walking in her sleep, but I crawled out of bed and + got into a dressing-gown. I knew Aunt Agatha well enough to know that, if + she had come to see me, she was going to see me. That's the sort of woman + she is. + </p> + <p> + She was sitting bolt upright in a chair, staring into space. When I came + in she looked at me in that darn critical way that always makes me feel as + if I had gelatine where my spine ought to be. Aunt Agatha is one of those + strong-minded women. I should think Queen Elizabeth must have been + something like her. She bosses her husband, Spencer Gregson, a battered + little chappie on the Stock Exchange. She bosses my cousin, Gussie + Mannering-Phipps. She bosses her sister-in-law, Gussie's mother. And, + worst of all, she bosses me. She has an eye like a man-eating fish, and + she has got moral suasion down to a fine point. + </p> + <p> + I dare say there are fellows in the world—men of blood and iron, + don't you know, and all that sort of thing—whom she couldn't + intimidate; but if you're a chappie like me, fond of a quiet life, you + simply curl into a ball when you see her coming, and hope for the best. My + experience is that when Aunt Agatha wants you to do a thing you do it, or + else you find yourself wondering why those fellows in the olden days made + such a fuss when they had trouble with the Spanish Inquisition. + </p> + <p> + 'Halloa, Aunt Agatha!' I said + </p> + <p> + 'Bertie,' she said, 'you look a sight. You look perfectly dissipated.' + </p> + <p> + I was feeling like a badly wrapped brown-paper parcel. I'm never at my + best in the early morning. I said so. + </p> + <p> + 'Early morning! I had breakfast three hours ago, and have been walking in + the park ever since, trying to compose my thoughts.' + </p> + <p> + If I ever breakfasted at half past eight I should walk on the Embankment, + trying to end it all in a watery grave. + </p> + <p> + 'I am extremely worried, Bertie. That is why I have come to you.' + </p> + <p> + And then I saw she was going to start something, and I bleated weakly to + Jeeves to bring me tea. But she had begun before I could get it. + </p> + <p> + 'What are your immediate plans, Bertie?' + </p> + <p> + 'Well, I rather thought of tottering out for a bite of lunch later on, and + then possibly staggering round to the club, and after that, if I felt + strong enough, I might trickle off to Walton Heath for a round of golf.' + </p> + <p> + I am not interested in your totterings and tricklings. I mean, have you + any important engagements in the next week or so?' + </p> + <p> + I scented danger. + </p> + <p> + 'Rather,' I said. 'Heaps! Millions! Booked solid!' + </p> + <p> + 'What are they?' + </p> + <p> + 'I—er—well, I don't quite know.' + </p> + <p> + 'I thought as much. You have no engagements. Very well, then, I want you + to start immediately for America.' + </p> + <p> + 'America!' + </p> + <p> + Do not lose sight of the fact that all this was taking place on an empty + stomach, shortly after the rising of the lark. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, America. I suppose even you have heard of America?' + </p> + <p> + 'But why America?' + </p> + <p> + 'Because that is where your Cousin Gussie is. He is in New York, and I + can't get at him.' + </p> + <p> + 'What's Gussie been doing?' + </p> + <p> + 'Gussie is making a perfect idiot of himself.' + </p> + <p> + To one who knew young Gussie as well as I did, the words opened up a wide + field for speculation. + </p> + <p> + 'In what way?' + </p> + <p> + 'He has lost his head over a creature.' + </p> + <p> + On past performances this rang true. Ever since he arrived at man's estate + Gussie had been losing his head over creatures. He's that sort of chap. + But, as the creatures never seemed to lose their heads over him, it had + never amounted to much. + </p> + <p> + 'I imagine you know perfectly well why Gussie went to America, Bertie. You + know how wickedly extravagant your Uncle Cuthbert was.' + </p> + <p> + She alluded to Gussie's governor, the late head of the family, and I am + bound to say she spoke the truth. Nobody was fonder of old Uncle Cuthbert + than I was, but everybody knows that, where money was concerned, he was + the most complete chump in the annals of the nation. He had an expensive + thirst. He never backed a horse that didn't get housemaid's knee in the + middle of the race. He had a system of beating the bank at Monte Carlo + which used to make the administration hang out the bunting and ring the + joy-bells when he was sighted in the offing. Take him for all in all, dear + old Uncle Cuthbert was as willing a spender as ever called the family + lawyer a bloodsucking vampire because he wouldn't let Uncle Cuthbert cut + down the timber to raise another thousand. + </p> + <p> + 'He left your Aunt Julia very little money for a woman in her position. + Beechwood requires a great deal of keeping up, and poor dear Spencer, + though he does his best to help, has not unlimited resources. It was + clearly understood why Gussie went to America. He is not clever, but he is + very good-looking, and, though he has no title, the Mannering-Phippses are + one of the best and oldest families in England. He had some excellent + letters of introduction, and when he wrote home to say that he had met the + most charming and beautiful girl in the world I felt quite happy. He + continued to rave about her for several mails, and then this morning a + letter has come from him in which he says, quite casually as a sort of + afterthought, that he knows we are broadminded enough not to think any the + worse of her because she is on the vaudeville stage.' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, I say!' + </p> + <p> + 'It was like a thunderbolt. The girl's name, it seems, is Ray Denison, and + according to Gussie she does something which he describes as a single on + the big time. What this degraded performance may be I have not the least + notion. As a further recommendation he states that she lifted them out of + their seats at Mosenstein's last week. Who she may be, and how or why, and + who or what Mr Mosenstein may be, I cannot tell you.' + </p> + <p> + 'By jove,' I said, 'it's like a sort of thingummybob, isn't it? A sort of + fate, what?' + </p> + <p> + 'I fail to understand you.' + </p> + <p> + 'Well, Aunt Julia, you know, don't you know? Heredity, and so forth. + What's bred in the bone will come out in the wash, and all that kind of + thing, you know.' + </p> + <p> + 'Don't be absurd, Bertie.' + </p> + <p> + That was all very well, but it was a coincidence for all that. Nobody ever + mentions it, and the family have been trying to forget it for twenty-five + years, but it's a known fact that my Aunt Julia, Gussie's mother, was a + vaudeville artist once, and a very good one, too, I'm told. She was + playing in pantomime at Drury Lane when Uncle Cuthbert saw her first. It + was before my time, of course, and long before I was old enough to take + notice the family had made the best of it, and Aunt Agatha had pulled up + her socks and put in a lot of educative work, and with a microscope you + couldn't tell Aunt Julia from a genuine dyed-in-the-wool aristocrat. Women + adapt themselves so quickly! + </p> + <p> + I have a pal who married Daisy Trimble of the Gaiety, and when I meet her + now I feel like walking out of her presence backwards. But there the thing + was, and you couldn't get away from it. Gussie had vaudeville blood in + him, and it looked as if he were reverting to type, or whatever they call + it. + </p> + <p> + 'By Jove,' I said, for I am interested in this heredity stuff, 'perhaps + the thing is going to be a regular family tradition, like you read about + in books—a sort of Curse of the Mannering-Phippses, as it were. + Perhaps each head of the family's going to marry into vaudeville for ever + and ever. Unto the what-d'you-call-it generation, don't you know?' + </p> + <p> + 'Please do not be quite idiotic, Bertie. There is one head of the family + who is certainly not going to do it, and that is Gussie. And you are going + to America to stop him.' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, but why me?' + </p> + <p> + 'Why you? You are too vexing, Bertie. Have you no sort of feeling for the + family? You are too lazy to try to be a credit to yourself, but at least + you can exert yourself to prevent Gussie's disgracing us. You are going to + America because you are Gussie's cousin, because you have always been his + closest friend, because you are the only one of the family who has + absolutely nothing to occupy his time except golf and night clubs.' + </p> + <p> + 'I play a lot of auction.' + </p> + <p> + 'And as you say, idiotic gambling in low dens. If you require another + reason, you are going because I ask you as a personal favour.' + </p> + <p> + What she meant was that, if I refused, she would exert the full bent of + her natural genius to make life a Hades for me. She held me with her + glittering eye. I have never met anyone who can give a better imitation of + the Ancient Mariner. + </p> + <p> + 'So you will start at once, won't you, Bertie?' + </p> + <p> + I didn't hesitate. + </p> + <p> + 'Rather!' I said. 'Of course I will' + </p> + <p> + Jeeves came in with the tea. + </p> + <p> + 'Jeeves,' I said, 'we start for America on Saturday.' + </p> + <p> + 'Very good, sir,' he said; 'which suit will you wear?' + </p> + <p> + New York is a large city conveniently situated on the edge of America, so + that you step off the liner right on to it without an effort. You can't + lose your way. You go out of a barn and down some stairs, and there you + are, right in among it. The only possible objection any reasonable chappie + could find to the place is that they loose you into it from the boat at + such an ungodly hour. + </p> + <p> + I left Jeeves to get my baggage safely past an aggregation of + suspicious-minded pirates who were digging for buried treasures among my + new shirts, and drove to Gussie's hotel, where I requested the squad of + gentlemanly clerks behind the desk to produce him. + </p> + <p> + That's where I got my first shock. He wasn't there. I pleaded with them to + think again, and they thought again, but it was no good. No Augustus + Mannering-Phipps on the premises. + </p> + <p> + I admit I was hard hit. There I was alone in a strange city and no signs + of Gussie. What was the next step? I am never one of the master minds in + the early morning; the old bean doesn't somehow seem to get into its + stride till pretty late in the p.m.'s, and I couldn't think what to do. + However, some instinct took me through a door at the back of the lobby, + and I found myself in a large room with an enormous picture stretching + across the whole of one wall, and under the picture a counter, and behind + the counter divers chappies in white, serving drinks. They have barmen, + don't you know, in New York, not barmaids. Rum idea! + </p> + <p> + I put myself unreservedly into the hands of one of the white chappies. He + was a friendly soul, and I told him the whole state of affairs. I asked + him what he thought would meet the case. + </p> + <p> + He said that in a situation of that sort he usually prescribed a + 'lightning whizzer', an invention of his own. He said this was what + rabbits trained on when they were matched against grizzly bears, and there + was only one instance on record of the bear having lasted three rounds. So + I tried a couple, and, by Jove! the man was perfectly right. As I drained + the second a great load seemed to fall from my heart, and I went out in + quite a braced way to have a look at the city. + </p> + <p> + I was surprised to find the streets quite full. People were bustling along + as if it were some reasonable hour and not the grey dawn. In the tramcars + they were absolutely standing on each other's necks. Going to business or + something, I take it. Wonderful johnnies! + </p> + <p> + The odd part of it was that after the first shock of seeing all this + frightful energy the thing didn't seem so strange. I've spoken to fellows + since who have been to New York, and they tell me they found it just the + same. Apparently there's something in the air, either the ozone or the + phosphates or something, which makes you sit up and take notice. A kind of + zip, as it were. A sort of bally freedom, if you know what I mean, that + gets into your blood and bucks you up, and makes you feel that— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>God's in His Heaven: + All's right with the world</i>, +</pre> + <p> + and you don't care if you've got odd socks on. I can't express it better + than by saying that the thought uppermost in my mind, as I walked about + the place they call Times Square, was that there were three thousand miles + of deep water between me and my Aunt Agatha. + </p> + <p> + It's a funny thing about looking for things. If you hunt for a needle in a + haystack you don't find it. If you don't give a darn whether you ever see + the needle or not it runs into you the first time you lean against the + stack. By the time I had strolled up and down once or twice, seeing the + sights and letting the white chappie's corrective permeate my system, I + was feeling that I wouldn't care if Gussie and I never met again, and I'm + dashed if I didn't suddenly catch sight of the old lad, as large as life, + just turning in at a doorway down the street. + </p> + <p> + I called after him, but he didn't hear me, so I legged it in pursuit and + caught him going into an office on the first floor. The name on the door + was Abe Riesbitter, Vaudeville Agent, and from the other side of the door + came the sound of many voices. + </p> + <p> + He turned and stared at me. + </p> + <p> + 'Bertie! What on earth are you doing? Where have you sprung from? When did + you arrive?' + </p> + <p> + 'Landed this morning. I went round to your hotel, but they said you + weren't there. They had never heard of you.' + </p> + <p> + 'I've changed my name. I call myself George Wilson.' + </p> + <p> + 'Why on earth?' + </p> + <p> + 'Well, you try calling yourself Augustus Mannering-Phipps over here, and + see how it strikes you. You feel a perfect ass. I don't know what it is + about America, but the broad fact is that it's not a place where you can + call yourself Augustus Mannering-Phipps. And there's another reason. I'll + tell you later. Bertie, I've fallen in love with the dearest girl in the + world.' + </p> + <p> + The poor old nut looked at me in such a deuced cat-like way, standing with + his mouth open, waiting to be congratulated, that I simply hadn't the + heart to tell him that I knew all about that already, and had come over to + the country for the express purpose of laying him a stymie. + </p> + <p> + So I congratulated him. + </p> + <p> + 'Thanks awfully, old man,' he said. 'It's a bit premature, but I fancy + it's going to be all right. Come along in here, and I'll tell you about + it.' + </p> + <p> + 'What do you want in this place? It looks a rummy spot.' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, that's part of the story. I'll tell you the whole thing.' + </p> + <p> + We opened the door marked 'Waiting Room'. I never saw such a crowded place + in my life. The room was packed till the walls bulged. + </p> + <p> + Gussie explained. + </p> + <p> + 'Pros,' he said, 'music-hall artistes, you know, waiting to see old Abe + Riesbitter. This is September the first, vaudeville's opening day. The + early fall,' said Gussie, who is a bit of a poet in his way, 'is + vaudeville's springtime. All over the country, as August wanes, sparkling + comediennes burst into bloom, the sap stirs in the veins of tramp + cyclists, and last year's contortionists, waking from their summer sleep, + tie themselves tentatively into knots. What I mean is, this is the + beginning of the new season, and everybody's out hunting for bookings.' + </p> + <p> + 'But what do you want here?' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, I've just got to see Abe about something. If you see a fat man with + about fifty-seven chins come out of that door there grab him, for that'll + be Abe. He's one of those fellows who advertise each step up they take in + the world by growing another chin. I'm told that way back in the nineties + he only had two. If you do grab Abe, remember that he knows me as George + Wilson.' + </p> + <p> + 'You said that you were going to explain that George Wilson business to + me, Gussie, old man.' + </p> + <p> + 'Well, it's this way—' + </p> + <p> + At this juncture dear old Gussie broke off short, rose from his seat, and + sprang with indescribable vim at an extraordinarily stout chappie who had + suddenly appeared. There was the deuce of a rush for him, but Gussie had + got away to a good start, and the rest of the singers, dancers, jugglers, + acrobats, and refined sketch teams seemed to recognize that he had won the + trick, for they ebbed back into their places again, and Gussie and I went + into the inner room. + </p> + <p> + Mr Riesbitter lit a cigar, and looked at us solemnly over his zareba of + chins. + </p> + <p> + 'Now, let me tell ya something,' he said to Gussie. 'You lizzun t' me.' + </p> + <p> + Gussie registered respectful attention. Mr Riesbitter mused for a moment + and shelled the cuspidor with indirect fire over the edge of the desk. + </p> + <p> + 'Lizzun t' me,' he said again. 'I seen you rehearse, as I promised Miss + Denison I would. You ain't bad for an amateur. You gotta lot to learn, but + it's in you. What it comes to is that I can fix you up in the four-a-day, + if you'll take thirty-five per. I can't do better than that, and I + wouldn't have done that if the little lady hadn't of kep' after me. Take + it or leave it. What do you say?' + </p> + <p> + 'I'll take it,' said Gussie, huskily. 'Thank you.' + </p> + <p> + In the passage outside, Gussie gurgled with joy and slapped me on the + back. 'Bertie, old man, it's all right. I'm the happiest man in New York.' + </p> + <p> + 'Now what?' + </p> + <p> + 'Well, you see, as I was telling you when Abe came in, Ray's father used + to be in the profession. He was before our time, but I remember hearing + about him—Joe Danby. He used to be well known in London before he + came over to America. Well, he's a fine old boy, but as obstinate as a + mule, and he didn't like the idea of Ray marrying me because I wasn't in + the profession. Wouldn't hear of it. Well, you remember at Oxford I could + always sing a song pretty well; so Ray got hold of old Riesbitter and made + him promise to come and hear me rehearse and get me bookings if he liked + my work. She stands high with him. She coached me for weeks, the darling. + And now, as you heard him say, he's booked me in the small time at + thirty-five dollars a week.' + </p> + <p> + I steadied myself against the wall. The effects of the restoratives + supplied by my pal at the hotel bar were beginning to work off, and I felt + a little weak. Through a sort of mist I seemed to have a vision of Aunt + Agatha hearing that the head of the Mannering-Phippses was about to appear + on the vaudeville stage. Aunt Agatha's worship of the family name amounts + to an obsession. The Mannering-Phippses were an old-established clan when + William the Conqueror was a small boy going round with bare legs and a + catapult. For centuries they have called kings by their first names and + helped dukes with their weekly rent; and there's practically nothing a + Mannering-Phipps can do that doesn't blot his escutcheon. So what Aunt + Agatha would say—beyond saying that it was all my fault—when + she learned the horrid news, it was beyond me to imagine. + </p> + <p> + 'Come back to the hotel, Gussie,' I said. 'There's a sportsman there who + mixes things he calls "lightning whizzers". Something tells me I need one + now. And excuse me for one minute, Gussie. I want to send a cable.' + </p> + <p> + It was clear to me by now that Aunt Agatha had picked the wrong man for + this job of disentangling Gussie from the clutches of the American + vaudeville profession. What I needed was reinforcements. For a moment I + thought of cabling Aunt Agatha to come over, but reason told me that this + would be overdoing it. I wanted assistance, but not so badly as that. I + hit what seemed to me the happy mean. I cabled to Gussie's mother and made + it urgent. + </p> + <p> + 'What were you cabling about?' asked Gussie, later. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh just to say I had arrived safely, and all that sort of tosh,' I + answered. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + Gussie opened his vaudeville career on the following Monday at a rummy + sort of place uptown where they had moving pictures some of the time and, + in between, one or two vaudeville acts. It had taken a lot of careful + handling to bring him up to scratch. He seemed to take my sympathy and + assistance for granted, and I couldn't let him down. My only hope, which + grew as I listened to him rehearsing, was that he would be such a + frightful frost at his first appearance that he would never dare to + perform again; and, as that would automatically squash the marriage, it + seemed best to me to let the thing go on. + </p> + <p> + He wasn't taking any chances. On the Saturday and Sunday we practically + lived in a beastly little music-room at the offices of the publishers + whose songs he proposed to use. A little chappie with a hooked nose sucked + a cigarette and played the piano all day. Nothing could tire that lad. He + seemed to take a personal interest in the thing. + </p> + <p> + Gussie would cleat his throat and begin: + </p> + <p> + 'There's a great big choo-choo waiting at the deepo.' + </p> + <p> + THE CHAPPIE (playing chords): 'Is that so? What's it waiting for?' + </p> + <p> + GUSSIE (rather rattled at the interruption): 'Waiting for me.' + </p> + <p> + THE CHAPPIE (surprised): For you?' + </p> + <p> + GUSSIE (sticking to it): 'Waiting for me-e-ee!' + </p> + <p> + THE CHAPPIE (sceptically): 'You don't say!' + </p> + <p> + GUSSIE: 'For I'm off to Tennessee.' + </p> + <p> + THE CHAPPIE (conceding a point): 'Now, I live at Yonkers.' + </p> + <p> + He did this all through the song. At first poor old Gussie asked him to + stop, but the chappie said, No, it was always done. It helped to get pep + into the thing. He appealed to me whether the thing didn't want a bit of + pep, and I said it wanted all the pep it could get. And the chappie said + to Gussie, 'There you are!' So Gussie had to stand it. + </p> + <p> + The other song that he intended to sing was one of those moon songs. He + told me in a hushed voice that he was using it because it was one of the + songs that the girl Ray sang when lifting them out of their seats at + Mosenstein's and elsewhere. The fact seemed to give it sacred associations + for him. + </p> + <p> + You will scarcely believe me, but the management expected Gussie to show + up and start performing at one o'clock in the afternoon. I told him they + couldn't be serious, as they must know that he would be rolling out for a + bit of lunch at that hour, but Gussie said this was the usual thing in the + four-a-day, and he didn't suppose he would ever get any lunch again until + he landed on the big time. I was just condoling with him, when I found + that he was taking it for granted that I should be there at one o'clock, + too. My idea had been that I should look in at night, when—if he + survived—he would be coming up for the fourth time; but I've never + deserted a pal in distress, so I said good-bye to the little lunch I'd + been planning at a rather decent tavern I'd discovered on Fifth Avenue, + and trailed along. They were showing pictures when I reached my seat. It + was one of those Western films, where the cowboy jumps on his horse and + rides across country at a hundred and fifty miles an hour to escape the + sheriff, not knowing, poor chump! that he might just as well stay where he + is, the sheriff having a horse of his own which can do three hundred miles + an hour without coughing. I was just going to close my eyes and try to + forget till they put Gussie's name up when I discovered that I was sitting + next to a deucedly pretty girl. + </p> + <p> + No, let me be honest. When I went in I had seen that there was a deucedly + pretty girl sitting in that particular seat, so I had taken the next one. + What happened now was that I began, as it were, to drink her in. I wished + they would turn the lights up so that I could see her better. She was + rather small, with great big eyes and a ripping smile. It was a shame to + let all that run to seed, so to speak, in semi-darkness. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly the lights did go up, and the orchestra began to play a tune + which, though I haven't much of an ear for music, seemed somehow familiar. + The next instant out pranced old Gussie from the wings in a purple + frock-coat and a brown top-hat, grinned feebly at the audience, tripped + over his feet, blushed, and began to sing the Tennessee song. + </p> + <p> + It was rotten. The poor nut had got stage fright so badly that it + practically eliminated his voice. He sounded like some far-off echo of the + past 'yodelling' through a woollen blanket. + </p> + <p> + For the first time since I had heard that he was about to go into + vaudeville I felt a faint hope creeping over me. I was sorry for the + wretched chap, of course, but there was no denying that the thing had its + bright side. No management on earth would go on paying thirty-five dollars + a week for this sort of performance. This was going to be Gussie's first + and only. He would have to leave the profession. The old boy would say, + 'Unhand my daughter'. And, with decent luck, I saw myself leading Gussie + on to the next England-bound liner and handing him over intact to Aunt + Agatha. + </p> + <p> + He got through the song somehow and limped off amidst roars of silence + from the audience. There was a brief respite, then out he came again. + </p> + <p> + He sang this time as if nobody loved him. As a song, it was not a very + pathetic song, being all about coons spooning in June under the moon, and + so on and so forth, but Gussie handled it in such a sad, crushed way that + there was genuine anguish in every line. By the time he reached the + refrain I was nearly in tears. It seemed such a rotten sort of world with + all that kind of thing going on in it. + </p> + <p> + He started the refrain, and then the most frightful thing happened. The + girl next to me got up in her seat, chucked her head back, and began to + sing too. I say 'too', but it wasn't really too, because her first note + stopped Gussie dead, as if he had been pole-axed. + </p> + <p> + I never felt so bally conspicuous in my life. I huddled down in my seat + and wished I could turn my collar up. Everybody seemed to be looking at + me. + </p> + <p> + In the midst of my agony I caught sight of Gussie. A complete change had + taken place in the old lad. He was looking most frightfully bucked. I must + say the girl was singing most awfully well, and it seemed to act on Gussie + like a tonic. When she came to the end of the refrain, he took it up, and + they sang it together, and the end of it was that he went off the popular + hero. The audience yelled for more, and were only quieted when they turned + down the lights and put on a film. + </p> + <p> + When I had recovered I tottered round to see Gussie. I found him sitting + on a box behind the stage, looking like one who had seen visions. + </p> + <p> + 'Isn't she a wonder, Bertie?' he said, devoutly. 'I hadn't a notion she + was going to be there. She's playing at the Auditorium this week, and she + can only just have had time to get back to her <i>matinee</i>. She risked + being late, just to come and see me through. She's my good angel, Bertie. + She saved me. If she hadn't helped me out I don't know what would have + happened. I was so nervous I didn't know what I was doing. Now that I've + got through the first show I shall be all right.' + </p> + <p> + I was glad I had sent that cable to his mother. I was going to need her. + The thing had got beyond me. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + During the next week I saw a lot of old Gussie, and was introduced to the + girl. I also met her father, a formidable old boy with quick eyebrows and + a sort of determined expression. On the following Wednesday Aunt Julia + arrived. Mrs Mannering-Phipps, my aunt Julia, is, I think, the most + dignified person I know. She lacks Aunt Agatha's punch, but in a quiet way + she has always contrived to make me feel, from boyhood up, that I was a + poor worm. Not that she harries me like Aunt Agatha. The difference + between the two is that Aunt Agatha conveys the impression that she + considers me personally responsible for all the sin and sorrow in the + world, while Aunt Julia's manner seems to suggest that I am more to be + pitied than censured. + </p> + <p> + If it wasn't that the thing was a matter of historical fact, I should be + inclined to believe that Aunt Julia had never been on the vaudeville + stage. She is like a stage duchess. + </p> + <p> + She always seems to me to be in a perpetual state of being about to desire + the butler to instruct the head footman to serve lunch in the blue-room + overlooking the west terrace. She exudes dignity. Yet, twenty-five years + ago, so I've been told by old boys who were lads about town in those days, + she was knocking them cold at the Tivoli in a double act called 'Fun in a + Tea-Shop', in which she wore tights and sang a song with a chorus that + began, 'Rumpty-tiddley-umpty-ay'. + </p> + <p> + There are some things a chappie's mind absolutely refuses to picture, and + Aunt Julia singing 'Rumpty-tiddley-umpty-ay' is one of them. + </p> + <p> + She got straight to the point within five minutes of our meeting. + </p> + <p> + 'What is this about Gussie? Why did you cable for me, Bertie?' + </p> + <p> + 'It's rather a long story,' I said, 'and complicated. If you don't mind, + I'll let you have it in a series of motion pictures. Suppose we look in at + the Auditorium for a few minutes.' + </p> + <p> + The girl, Ray, had been re-engaged for a second week at the Auditorium, + owing to the big success of her first week. Her act consisted of three + songs. She did herself well in the matter of costume and scenery. She had + a ripping voice. She looked most awfully pretty; and altogether the act + was, broadly speaking, a pippin. + </p> + <p> + Aunt Julia didn't speak till we were in our seats. Then she gave a sort of + sigh. + </p> + <p> + 'It's twenty-five years since I was in a music-hall!' + </p> + <p> + She didn't say any more, but sat there with her eyes glued on the stage. + </p> + <p> + After about half an hour the johnnies who work the card-index system at + the side of the stage put up the name of Ray Denison, and there was a good + deal of applause. + </p> + <p> + 'Watch this act, Aunt Julia,' I said. + </p> + <p> + She didn't seem to hear me. + </p> + <p> + 'Twenty-five years! What did you say, Bertie?' + </p> + <p> + 'Watch this act and tell me what you think of it.' + </p> + <p> + 'Who is it? Ray. Oh!' + </p> + <p> + 'Exhibit A,' I said. 'The girl Gussie's engaged to.' + </p> + <p> + The girl did her act, and the house rose at her. They didn't want to let + her go. She had to come back again and again. When she had finally + disappeared I turned to Aunt Julia. + </p> + <p> + 'Well?' I said. + </p> + <p> + 'I like her work. She's an artist.' + </p> + <p> + 'We will now, if you don't mind, step a goodish way uptown.' + </p> + <p> + And we took the subway to where Gussie, the human film, was earning his + thirty-five per. As luck would have it, we hadn't been in the place ten + minutes when out he came. + </p> + <p> + 'Exhibit B,' I said. 'Gussie.' + </p> + <p> + I don't quite know what I had expected her to do, but I certainly didn't + expect her to sit there without a word. She did not move a muscle, but + just stared at Gussie as he drooled on about the moon. I was sorry for the + woman, for it must have been a shock to her to see her only son in a mauve + frockcoat and a brown top-hat, but I thought it best to let her get a + strangle-hold on the intricacies of the situation as quickly as possible. + If I had tried to explain the affair without the aid of illustrations I + should have talked all day and left her muddled up as to who was going to + marry whom, and why. + </p> + <p> + I was astonished at the improvement in dear old Gussie. He had got back + his voice and was putting the stuff over well. It reminded me of the night + at Oxford when, then but a lad of eighteen, he sang 'Let's All Go Down the + Strand' after a bump supper, standing the while up to his knees in the + college fountain. He was putting just the same zip into the thing now. + </p> + <p> + When he had gone off Aunt Julia sat perfectly still for a long time, and + then she turned to me. Her eyes shone queerly. + </p> + <p> + 'What does this mean, Bertie?' + </p> + <p> + She spoke quite quietly, but her voice shook a bit. + </p> + <p> + 'Gussie went into the business,' I said, 'because the girl's father + wouldn't let him marry her unless he did. If you feel up to it perhaps you + wouldn't mind tottering round to One Hundred and Thirty-third Street and + having a chat with him. He's an old boy with eyebrows, and he's Exhibit C + on my list. When I've put you in touch with him I rather fancy my share of + the business is concluded, and it's up to you.' + </p> + <p> + The Danbys lived in one of those big apartments uptown which look as if + they cost the earth and really cost about half as much as a hall-room down + in the forties. We were shown into the sitting-room, and presently old + Danby came in. + </p> + <p> + 'Good afternoon, Mr Danby,' I began. + </p> + <p> + I had got as far as that when there was a kind of gasping cry at my elbow. + </p> + <p> + 'Joe!' cried Aunt Julia, and staggered against the sofa. + </p> + <p> + For a moment old Danby stared at her, and then his mouth fell open and his + eyebrows shot up like rockets. + </p> + <p> + 'Julie!' + </p> + <p> + And then they had got hold of each other's hands and were shaking them + till I wondered their arms didn't come unscrewed. + </p> + <p> + I'm not equal to this sort of thing at such short notice. The change in + Aunt Julia made me feel quite dizzy. She had shed her <i>grande-dame</i> + manner completely, and was blushing and smiling. I don't like to say such + things of any aunt of mine, or I would go further and put it on record + that she was giggling. And old Danby, who usually looked like a cross + between a Roman emperor and Napoleon Bonaparte in a bad temper, was + behaving like a small boy. + </p> + <p> + 'Joe!' + </p> + <p> + 'Julie!' + </p> + <p> + 'Dear old Joe! Fancy meeting you again!' + </p> + <p> + 'Wherever have you come from, Julie?' + </p> + <p> + Well, I didn't know what it was all about, but I felt a bit out of it. I + butted in: + </p> + <p> + 'Aunt Julia wants to have a talk with you, Mr Danby.' + </p> + <p> + 'I knew you in a second, Joe!' + </p> + <p> + 'It's twenty-five years since I saw you, kid, and you don't look a day + older.' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, Joe! I'm an old woman!' + </p> + <p> + 'What are you doing over here? I suppose'—old Danby's cheerfulness + waned a trifle—'I suppose your husband is with you?' + </p> + <p> + 'My husband died a long, long while ago, Joe.' + </p> + <p> + Old Danby shook his head. + </p> + <p> + 'You never ought to have married out of the profession, Julie. I'm not + saying a word against the late—I can't remember his name; never + could—but you shouldn't have done it, an artist like you. Shall I + ever forget the way you used to knock them with + "Rumpty-tiddley-umpty-ay"?' + </p> + <p> + 'Ah! how wonderful you were in that act, Joe.' Aunt Julia sighed. 'Do you + remember the back-fall you used to do down the steps? I always have said + that you did the best back-fall in the profession.' + </p> + <p> + 'I couldn't do it now!' + </p> + <p> + 'Do you remember how we put it across at the Canterbury, Joe? Think of it! + The Canterbury's a moving-picture house now, and the old Mogul runs French + revues.' + </p> + <p> + 'I'm glad I'm not there to see them.' + </p> + <p> + 'Joe, tell me, why did you leave England?' + </p> + <p> + 'Well, I—I wanted a change. No I'll tell you the truth, kid. I + wanted you, Julie. You went off and married that—whatever that + stage-door johnny's name was—and it broke me all up.' + </p> + <p> + Aunt Julia was staring at him. She is what they call a well-preserved + woman. It's easy to see that, twenty-five years ago, she must have been + something quite extraordinary to look at. Even now she's almost beautiful. + She has very large brown eyes, a mass of soft grey hair, and the + complexion of a girl of seventeen. + </p> + <p> + 'Joe, you aren't going to tell me you were fond of me yourself!' + </p> + <p> + 'Of course I was fond of you. Why did I let you have all the fat in "Fun + in a Tea-Shop"? Why did I hang about upstage while you sang + "Rumpty-tiddley-umpty-ay"? Do you remember my giving you a bag of buns + when we were on the road at Bristol?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, but—' + </p> + <p> + 'Do you remember my giving you the ham sandwiches at Portsmouth?' + </p> + <p> + 'Joe!' + </p> + <p> + 'Do you remember my giving you a seed-cake at Birmingham? What did you + think all that meant, if not that I loved you? Why, I was working up by + degrees to telling you straight out when you suddenly went off and married + that cane-sucking dude. That's why I wouldn't let my daughter marry this + young chap, Wilson, unless he went into the profession. She's an artist—' + </p> + <p> + 'She certainly is, Joe.' + </p> + <p> + 'You've seen her? Where?' + </p> + <p> + 'At the Auditorium just now. But, Joe, you mustn't stand in the way of her + marrying the man she's in love with. He's an artist, too.' + </p> + <p> + 'In the small time.' + </p> + <p> + 'You were in the small time once, Joe. You mustn't look down on him + because he's a beginner. I know you feel that your daughter is marrying + beneath her, but—' + </p> + <p> + 'How on earth do you know anything about young Wilson? + </p> + <p> + 'He's my son.' + </p> + <p> + 'Your son?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, Joe. And I've just been watching him work. Oh, Joe, you can't think + how proud I was of him! He's got it in him. It's fate. He's my son and + he's in the profession! Joe, you don't know what I've been through for his + sake. They made a lady of me. I never worked so hard in my life as I did + to become a real lady. They kept telling me I had got to put it across, no + matter what it cost, so that he wouldn't be ashamed of me. The study was + something terrible. I had to watch myself every minute for years, and I + never knew when I might fluff my lines or fall down on some bit of + business. But I did it, because I didn't want him to be ashamed of me, + though all the time I was just aching to be back where I belonged.' + </p> + <p> + Old Danby made a jump at her, and took her by the shoulders. + </p> + <p> + 'Come back where you belong, Julie!' he cried. 'Your husband's dead, your + son's a pro. Come back! It's twenty-five years ago, but I haven't changed. + I want you still. I've always wanted you. You've got to come back, kid, + where you belong.' + </p> + <p> + Aunt Julia gave a sort of gulp and looked at him. + </p> + <p> + 'Joe!' she said in a kind of whisper. + </p> + <p> + 'You're here, kid,' said Old Danby, huskily. 'You've come back.... + Twenty-five years!... You've come back and you're going to stay!' + </p> + <p> + She pitched forward into his arms, and he caught her. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, Joe! Joe! Joe!' she said. 'Hold me. Don't let me go. Take care of + me.' + </p> + <p> + And I edged for the door and slipped from the room. I felt weak. The old + bean will stand a certain amount, but this was too much. I groped my way + out into the street and wailed for a taxi. + </p> + <p> + Gussie called on me at the hotel that night. He curveted into the room as + if he had bought it and the rest of the city. + </p> + <p> + 'Bertie,' he said, 'I feel as if I were dreaming.' + </p> + <p> + 'I wish I could feel like that, old top,' I said, and I took another + glance at a cable that had arrived half an hour ago from Aunt Agatha. I + had been looking at it at intervals ever since. + </p> + <p> + 'Ray and I got back to her flat this evening. Who do you think was there? + The mater! She was sitting hand in hand with old Danby.' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes?' + </p> + <p> + 'He was sitting hand in hand with her.' + </p> + <p> + 'Really?' + </p> + <p> + 'They are going to be married.' + </p> + <p> + 'Exactly.' + </p> + <p> + 'Ray and I are going to be married.' + </p> + <p> + 'I suppose so.' + </p> + <p> + 'Bertie, old man, I feel immense. I look round me, and everything seems to + be absolutely corking. The change in the mater is marvellous. She is + twenty-five years younger. She and old Danby are talking of reviving "Fun + in a Tea-Shop", and going out on the road with it.' + </p> + <p> + I got up. + </p> + <p> + 'Gussie, old top,' I said, 'leave me for a while. I would be alone. I + think I've got brain fever or something.' + </p> + <p> + 'Sorry, old man; perhaps New York doesn't agree with you. When do you + expect to go back to England?' + </p> + <p> + I looked again at Aunt Agatha's cable. + </p> + <p> + 'With luck,' I said, 'in about ten years.' + </p> + <p> + When he was gone I took up the cable and read it again. + </p> + <p> + 'What is happening?' it read. 'Shall I come over?' + </p> + <p> + I sucked a pencil for a while, and then I wrote the reply. + </p> + <p> + It was not an easy cable to word, but I managed it. + </p> + <p> + 'No,' I wrote, 'stay where you are. Profession overcrowded.' + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + WILTON'S HOLIDAY + </h2> + <p> + When Jack Wilton first came to Marois Bay, none of us dreamed that he was + a man with a hidden sorrow in his life. There was something about the man + which made the idea absurd, or would have made it absurd if he himself had + not been the authority for the story. He looked so thoroughly pleased with + life and with himself. He was one of those men whom you instinctively + label in your mind as 'strong'. He was so healthy, so fit, and had such a + confident, yet sympathetic, look about him that you felt directly you saw + him that here was the one person you would have selected as the recipient + of that hard-luck story of yours. You felt that his kindly strength would + have been something to lean on. + </p> + <p> + As a matter of fact, it was by trying to lean on it that Spencer Clay got + hold of the facts of the case; and when young Clay got hold of anything, + Marois Bay at large had it hot and fresh a few hours later; for Spencer + was one of those slack-jawed youths who are constitutionally incapable of + preserving a secret. + </p> + <p> + Within two hours, then, of Clay's chat with Wilton, everyone in the place + knew that, jolly and hearty as the new-comer might seem, there was that + gnawing at his heart which made his outward cheeriness simply heroic. + </p> + <p> + Clay, it seems, who is the worst specimen of self-pitier, had gone to + Wilton, in whom, as a new-comer, he naturally saw a fine fresh repository + for his tales of woe, and had opened with a long yarn of some misfortune + or other. I forget which it was; it might have been any one of a dozen or + so which he had constantly in stock, and it is immaterial which it was. + The point is that, having heard him out very politely and patiently, + Wilton came back at him with a story which silenced even Clay. Spencer was + equal to most things, but even he could not go on whining about how he had + foozled his putting and been snubbed at the bridge-table, or whatever it + was that he was pitying himself about just then, when a man was telling + him the story of a wrecked life. + </p> + <p> + 'He told me not to let it go any further,' said Clay to everyone he met, + 'but of course it doesn't matter telling you. It is a thing he doesn't + like to have known. He told me because he said there was something about + me that seemed to extract confidences—a kind of strength, he said. + You wouldn't think it to look at him, but his life is an absolute blank. + Absolutely ruined, don't you know. He told me the whole thing so simply + and frankly that it broke me all up. It seems that he was engaged to be + married a few years ago, and on the wedding morning—absolutely on + the wedding morning—the girl was taken suddenly ill, and—' + </p> + <p> + 'And died?' + </p> + <p> + 'And died. Died in his arms. Absolutely in his arms, old top.' + </p> + <p> + 'What a terrible thing!' + </p> + <p> + 'Absolutely. He's never got over it. You won't let it go any further, will + you old man?' + </p> + <p> + And off sped Spencer, to tell the tale to someone else. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + Everyone was terribly sorry for Wilton. He was such a good fellow, such a + sportsman, and, above all, so young, that one hated the thought that, + laugh as he might, beneath his laughter there lay the pain of that awful + memory. He seemed so happy, too. It was only in moments of confidence, in + those heart-to-heart talks when men reveal their deeper feelings, that he + ever gave a hint that all was not well with him. As, for example, when + Ellerton, who is always in love with someone, backed him into a corner one + evening and began to tell him the story of his latest affair, he had + hardly begun when such a look of pain came over Wilton's face that he + ceased instantly. He said afterwards that the sudden realization of the + horrible break he was making hit him like a bullet, and the manner in + which he turned the conversation practically without pausing from love to + a discussion of the best method of getting out of the bunker at the + seventh hole was, in the circumstances, a triumph of tact. + </p> + <p> + Marois Bay is a quiet place even in the summer, and the Wilton tragedy was + naturally the subject of much talk. It is a sobering thing to get a + glimpse of the underlying sadness of life like that, and there was a + disposition at first on the part of the community to behave in his + presence in a manner reminiscent of pall-bearers at a funeral. But things + soon adjusted themselves. He was outwardly so cheerful that it seemed + ridiculous for the rest of us to step softly and speak with hushed voices. + After all, when you came to examine it, the thing was his affair, and it + was for him to dictate the lines on which it should be treated. If he + elected to hide his pain under a bright smile and a laugh like that of a + hyena with a more than usually keen sense of humour, our line was + obviously to follow his lead. + </p> + <p> + We did so; and by degrees the fact that his life was permanently blighted + became almost a legend. At the back of our minds we were aware of it, but + it did not obtrude itself into the affairs of every day. It was only when + someone, forgetting, as Ellerton had done, tried to enlist his sympathy + for some misfortune of his own that the look of pain in his eyes and the + sudden tightening of his lips reminded us that he still remembered. + </p> + <p> + Matters had been at this stage for perhaps two weeks when Mary Campbell + arrived. + </p> + <p> + Sex attraction is so purely a question of the taste of the individual that + the wise man never argues about it. He accepts its vagaries as part of the + human mystery, and leaves it at that. To me there was no charm whatever + about Mary Campbell. It may have been that, at the moment, I was in love + with Grace Bates, Heloise Miller, and Clarice Wembley—for at Marois + Bay, in the summer, a man who is worth his salt is more than equal to + three love affairs simultaneously—but anyway, she left me cold. Not + one thrill could she awake in me. She was small and, to my mind, + insignificant. Some men said that she had fine eyes. They seemed to me + just ordinary eyes. And her hair was just ordinary hair. In fact, ordinary + was the word that described her. + </p> + <p> + But from the first it was plain that she seemed wonderful with Wilton, + which was all the more remarkable, seeing that he was the one man of us + all who could have got any girl in Marois Bay that he wanted. When a man + is six foot high, is a combination of Hercules and Apollo, and plays + tennis, golf, and the banjo with almost superhuman vim, his path with the + girls of a summer seaside resort is pretty smooth. But, when you add to + all these things a tragedy like Wilton's, he can only be described as + having a walk-over. + </p> + <p> + Girls love a tragedy. At least, most girls do. It makes a man interesting + to them. Grace Bates was always going on about how interesting Wilton was. + So was Heloise Miller. So was Clarice Wembley. But it was not until Mary + Campbell came that he displayed any real enthusiasm at all for the + feminine element of Marois Bay. We put it down to the fact that he could + not forget, but the real reason, I now know, was that he considered that + girls were a nuisance on the links and in the tennis-court. I suppose a + plus two golfer and a Wildingesque tennis-player, such as Wilton was, does + feel like that. Personally, I think that girls add to the fun of the + thing. But then, my handicap is twelve, and, though I have been playing + tennis for many years, I doubt if I have got my first serve—the fast + one—over the net more than half a dozen times. + </p> + <p> + But Mary Campbell overcame Wilton's prejudices in twenty-four hours. He + seemed to feel lonely on the links without her, and he positively egged + her to be his partner in the doubles. What Mary thought of him we did not + know. She was one of those inscrutable girls. + </p> + <p> + And so things went on. If it had not been that I knew Wilton's story, I + should have classed the thing as one of those summer love-affairs to which + the Marois Bay air is so peculiarly conducive. The only reason why anyone + comes away from a summer at Marois Bay unbetrothed is because there are so + many girls that he falls in love with that his holiday is up before he + can, so to speak, concentrate. + </p> + <p> + But in Wilton's case this was out of the question. A man does not get over + the sort of blow he had had, not, at any rate, for many years: and we had + gathered that his tragedy was comparatively recent. + </p> + <p> + I doubt if I was ever more astonished in my life than the night when he + confided in me. Why he should have chosen me as a confidant I cannot say. + I am inclined to think that I happened to be alone with him at the + psychological moment when a man must confide in somebody or burst; and + Wilton chose the lesser evil. + </p> + <p> + I was strolling along the shore after dinner, smoking a cigar and thinking + of Grace Bates, Heloise Miller, and Clarice Wembley, when I happened upon + him. It was a beautiful night, and we sat down and drank it in for a + while. The first intimation I had that all was not well with him was when + he suddenly emitted a hollow groan. + </p> + <p> + The next moment he had begun to confide. + </p> + <p> + 'I'm in the deuce of a hole,' he said. 'What would you do in my position?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes?' I said. + </p> + <p> + 'I proposed to Mary Campbell this evening.' + </p> + <p> + 'Congratulations.' + </p> + <p> + 'Thanks. She refused me.' + </p> + <p> + 'Refused you!' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes—because of Amy.' + </p> + <p> + It seemed to me that the narrative required footnotes. + </p> + <p> + 'Who is Amy?' I said. + </p> + <p> + 'Amy is the girl—' + </p> + <p> + 'Which girl?' + </p> + <p> + 'The girl who died, you know. Mary had got hold of the whole story. In + fact, it was the tremendous sympathy she showed that encouraged me to + propose. If it hadn't been for that, I shouldn't have had the nerve. I'm + not fit to black her shoes.' + </p> + <p> + Odd, the poor opinion a man always has—when he is in love—of + his personal attractions. There were times when I thought of Grace Bates, + Heloise Miller, and Clarice Wembley, when I felt like one of the beasts + that perish. But then, I'm nothing to write home about, whereas the + smallest gleam of intelligence should have told Wilton that he was a kind + of Ouida guardsman. + </p> + <p> + 'This evening I managed somehow to do it. She was tremendously nice about + it—said she was very fond of me and all that—but it was quite + out of the question because of Amy.' + </p> + <p> + 'I don't follow this. What did she mean?' + </p> + <p> + 'It's perfectly clear, if you bear in mind that Mary is the most + sensitive, spiritual, highly strung girl that ever drew breath,' said + Wilton, a little coldly. 'Her position is this: she feels that, because of + Amy, she can never have my love completely; between us there would always + be Amy's memory. It would be the same as if she married a widower.' + </p> + <p> + 'Well, widowers marry.' + </p> + <p> + 'They don't marry girls like Mary.' + </p> + <p> + I couldn't help feeling that this was a bit of luck for the widowers; but + I didn't say so. One has always got to remember that opinions differ about + girls. One man's peach, so to speak, is another man's poison. I have met + men who didn't like Grace Bates, men who, if Heloise Miller or Clarice + Wembley had given them their photographs, would have used them to cut the + pages of a novel. + </p> + <p> + 'Amy stands between us,' said Wilton. + </p> + <p> + I breathed a sympathetic snort. I couldn't think of anything noticeably + suitable to say. + </p> + <p> + 'Stands between us,' repeated Wilton. 'And the damn silly part of the + whole thing is that there isn't any Amy. I invented her.' + </p> + <p> + 'You—what!' + </p> + <p> + 'Invented her. Made her up. No, I'm not mad. I had a reason. Let me see, + you come from London, don't you?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes.' + </p> + <p> + 'Then you haven't any friends. It's different with me. I live in a small + country town, and everyone's my friend. I don't know what it is about me, + but for some reason, ever since I can remember, I've been looked on as the + strong man of my town, the man who's <i>all right</i>. Am I making myself + clear?' + </p> + <p> + 'Not quite.' + </p> + <p> + 'Well, what I am trying to get at is this. Either because I'm a strong + sort of fellow to look at, and have obviously never been sick in my life, + or because I can't help looking pretty cheerful, the whole of + Bridley-in-the-Wold seems to take it for granted that I can't possibly + have any troubles of my own, and that I am consequently fair game for + anyone who has any sort of worry. I have the sympathetic manner, and they + come to me to be cheered up. If a fellow's in love, he makes a bee-line + for me, and tells me all about it. If anyone has had a bereavement, I am + the rock on which he leans for support. Well, I'm a patient sort of man, + and, as far as Bridley-in-the-Wold is concerned, I am willing to play the + part. But a strong man does need an occasional holiday, and I made up my + mind that I would get it. Directly I got here I saw that the same old game + was going to start. Spencer Clay swooped down on me at once. I'm as big a + draw with the Spencer Clay type of maudlin idiot as catnip is with a cat. + Well, I could stand it at home, but I was hanged if I was going to have my + holiday spoiled. So I invented Amy. Now do you see?' + </p> + <p> + 'Certainly I see. And I perceive something else which you appear to have + overlooked. If Amy doesn't exist—or, rather, never did exist—she + cannot stand between you and Miss Campbell. Tell her what you have told + me, and all will be well.' + </p> + <p> + He shook his head. + </p> + <p> + 'You don't know Mary. She would never forgive me. You don't know what + sympathy, what angelic sympathy, she has poured out on me about Amy. I + can't possibly tell her the whole thing was a fraud. It would make her + feel so foolish.' + </p> + <p> + 'You must risk it. At the worst, you lose nothing.' + </p> + <p> + He brightened a little. + </p> + <p> + 'No, that's true,' he said. 'I've half a mind to do it.' + </p> + <p> + 'Make it a whole mind,' I said, 'and you win out.' + </p> + <p> + I was wrong. Sometimes I am. The trouble was, apparently, that I didn't + know Mary. I am sure Grace Bates, Heloise Miller, or Clarice Wembley would + not have acted as she did. They might have been a trifle stunned at first, + but they would soon have come round, and all would have been joy. But with + Mary, no. What took place at the interview I do not know; but it was + swiftly perceived by Marois Bay that the Wilton-Campbell alliance was off. + They no longer walked together, golfed together, and played tennis on the + same side of the net. They did not even speak to each other. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + The rest of the story I can speak of only from hearsay. How it became + public property, I do not know. But there was a confiding strain in + Wilton, and I imagine he confided in someone, who confided in someone + else. At any rate, it is recorded in Marois Bay's unwritten archives, from + which I now extract it. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + For some days after the breaking-off of diplomatic relations, Wilton + seemed too pulverized to resume the offensive. He mooned about the links + by himself, playing a shocking game, and generally comported himself like + a man who has looked for the escape of gas with a lighted candle. In + affairs of love the strongest men generally behave with the most spineless + lack of resolution. Wilton weighed thirteen stone, and his muscles were + like steel cables; but he could not have shown less pluck in this crisis + in his life if he had been a poached egg. It was pitiful to see him. + </p> + <p> + Mary, in these days, simply couldn't see that he was on the earth. She + looked round him, above him, and through him, but never at him; which was + rotten from Wilton's point of view, for he had developed a sort of wistful + expression—I am convinced that he practised it before the mirror + after his bath—which should have worked wonders, if only he could + have got action with it. But she avoided his eye as if he had been a + creditor whom she was trying to slide past on the street. + </p> + <p> + She irritated me. To let the breach widen in this way was absurd. Wilton, + when I said as much to him, said that it was due to her wonderful + sensitiveness and highly strungness, and that it was just one more proof + to him of the loftiness of her soul and her shrinking horror of any form + of deceit. In fact, he gave me the impression that, though the affair was + rending his vitals, he took a mournful pleasure in contemplating her + perfection. + </p> + <p> + Now one afternoon Wilton took his misery for a long walk along the + seashore. He tramped over the sand for some considerable time, and finally + pulled up in a little cove, backed by high cliffs and dotted with rocks. + The shore around Marois Bay is full of them. + </p> + <p> + By this time the afternoon sun had begun to be too warm for comfort, and + it struck Wilton that he could be a great deal more comfortable nursing + his wounded heart with his back against one of the rocks than tramping any + farther over the sand. Most of the Marois Bay scenery is simply made as a + setting for the nursing of a wounded heart. The cliffs are a sombre + indigo, sinister and forbidding; and even on the finest days the sea has a + curious sullen look. You have only to get away from the crowd near the + bathing-machines and reach one of these small coves and get your book + against a rock and your pipe well alight, and you can simply wallow in + misery. I have done it myself. The day when Heloise Miller went golfing + with Teddy Bingley I spent the whole afternoon in one of these retreats. + It is true that, after twenty minutes of contemplating the breakers, I + fell asleep; but that is bound to happen. + </p> + <p> + It happened to Wilton. For perhaps half an hour he brooded, and then his + pipe fell from his mouth and he dropped off into a peaceful slumber. And + time went by. + </p> + <p> + It was a touch of cramp that finally woke him. He jumped up with a yell, + and stood there massaging his calf. And he had hardly got rid of the pain, + when a startled exclamation broke the primeval stillness; and there, on + the other side of the rock, was Mary Campbell. + </p> + <p> + Now, if Wilton had had any inductive reasoning in his composition at all, + he would have been tremendously elated. A girl does not creep out to a + distant cove at Marois Bay unless she is unhappy; and if Mary Campbell was + unhappy she must be unhappy about him; and if she was unhappy about him + all he had to do was to show a bit of determination and get the whole + thing straightened out. But Wilton, whom grief had reduced to the mental + level of an oyster, did not reason this out; and the sight of her deprived + him of practically all his faculties, including speech. He just stood + there and yammered. + </p> + <p> + 'Did you follow me here, Mr Wilton?' said Mary, very coldly. + </p> + <p> + He shook his head. Eventually he managed to say that he had come there by + chance, and had fallen asleep under the rock. As this was exactly what + Mary had done, she could not reasonably complain. So that concluded the + conversation for the time being. She walked away in the direction of + Marois Bay without another word, and presently he lost sight of her round + a bend in the cliffs. + </p> + <p> + His position now was exceedingly unpleasant. If she had such a distaste + for his presence, common decency made it imperative that he should give + her a good start on the homeward journey. He could not tramp along a + couple of yards in the rear all the way. So he had to remain where he was + till she had got well off the mark. And as he was wearing a thin flannel + suit, and the sun had gone in, and a chilly breeze had sprung up, his + mental troubles were practically swamped in physical discomfort. + </p> + <p> + Just as he had decided that he could now make a move, he was surprised to + see her coming back. + </p> + <p> + Wilton really was elated at this. The construction he put on it was that + she had relented and was coming back to fling her arms round his neck. He + was just bracing himself for the clash, when he caught her eye, and it was + as cold and unfriendly as the sea. + </p> + <p> + 'I must go round the other way,' she said. 'The water has come up too far + on that side.' + </p> + <p> + And she walked past him to the other end of the cove. + </p> + <p> + The prospect of another wait chilled Wilton to the marrow. The wind had + now grown simply freezing, and it came through his thin suit and roamed + about all over him in a manner that caused him exquisite discomfort. He + began to jump to keep himself warm. + </p> + <p> + He was leaping heavenwards for the hundredth time, when, chancing to + glance to one side, he perceived Mary again returning. By this time his + physical misery had so completely overcome the softer emotions in his + bosom that his only feeling now was one of thorough irritation. It was not + fair, he felt, that she should jockey at the start in this way and keep + him hanging about here catching cold. He looked at her, when she came + within range, quite balefully. + </p> + <p> + 'It is impossible,' she said, 'to get round that way either.' + </p> + <p> + One grows so accustomed in this world to everything going smoothly, that + the idea of actual danger had not yet come home to her. From where she + stood in the middle of the cove, the sea looked so distant that the fact + that it had closed the only ways of getting out was at the moment merely + annoying. She felt much the same as she would have felt if she had arrived + at a station to catch a train and had been told that the train was not + running. + </p> + <p> + She therefore seated herself on a rock, and contemplated the ocean. Wilton + walked up and down. Neither showed any disposition to exercise that gift + of speech which places Man in a class of his own, above the ox, the ass, + the common wart-hog, and the rest of the lower animals. It was only when a + wave swished over the base of her rock that Mary broke the silence. + </p> + <p> + 'The tide is coming <i>in</i>' she faltered. + </p> + <p> + She looked at the sea with such altered feelings that it seemed a + different sea altogether. + </p> + <p> + There was plenty of it to look at. It filled the entire mouth of the + little bay, swirling up the sand and lashing among the rocks in a fashion + which made one thought stand out above all the others in her mind—the + recollection that she could not swim. + </p> + <p> + 'Mr Wilton!' + </p> + <p> + Wilton bowed coldly. + </p> + <p> + 'Mr Wilton, the tide. It's coming IN.' + </p> + <p> + Wilton glanced superciliously at the sea. + </p> + <p> + 'So,' he said, 'I perceive.' + </p> + <p> + 'But what shall we do?' + </p> + <p> + Wilton shrugged his shoulders. He was feeling at war with Nature and + Humanity combined. The wind had shifted a few points to the east, and was + exploring his anatomy with the skill of a qualified surgeon. + </p> + <p> + 'We shall drown,' cried Miss Campbell. 'We shall drown. We shall drown. We + shall drown.' + </p> + <p> + All Wilton's resentment left him. Until he heard that pitiful wail his + only thoughts had been for himself. + </p> + <p> + 'Mary!' he said, with a wealth of tenderness in his voice. + </p> + <p> + She came to him as a little child comes to its mother, and he put his arm + around her. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, Jack!' + </p> + <p> + 'My darling!' + </p> + <p> + 'I'm frightened!' + </p> + <p> + 'My precious!' + </p> + <p> + It is in moments of peril, when the chill breath of fear blows upon our + souls, clearing them of pettiness, that we find ourselves. + </p> + <p> + She looked about her wildly. + </p> + <p> + 'Could we climb the cliffs?' + </p> + <p> + 'I doubt it.' + </p> + <p> + 'If we called for help—' + </p> + <p> + 'We could do that.' + </p> + <p> + They raised their voices, but the only answer was the crashing of the + waves and the cry of the sea-birds. The water was swirling at their feet, + and they drew back to the shelter of the cliffs. There they stood in + silence, watching. + </p> + <p> + 'Mary,' said Wilton in a low voice, 'tell me one thing.' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, Jack?' + </p> + <p> + 'Have you forgiven me?' + </p> + <p> + 'Forgiven you! How can you ask at a moment like this? I love you with all + my heart and soul.' + </p> + <p> + He kissed her, and a strange look of peace came over his face. + </p> + <p> + 'I am happy.' + </p> + <p> + 'I, too.' + </p> + <p> + A fleck of foam touched her face, and she shivered. + </p> + <p> + 'It was worth it,' he said quietly. 'If all misunderstandings are cleared + away and nothing can come between us again, it is a small price to pay—unpleasant + as it will be when it comes.' + </p> + <p> + 'Perhaps—perhaps it will not be very unpleasant. They say that + drowning is an easy death.' + </p> + <p> + 'I didn't mean drowning, dearest. I meant a cold in the head.' + </p> + <p> + 'A cold in the head!' + </p> + <p> + He nodded gravely. + </p> + <p> + 'I don't see how it can be avoided. You know how chilly it gets these late + summer nights. It will be a long time before we can get away.' + </p> + <p> + She laughed a shrill, unnatural laugh. + </p> + <p> + 'You are talking like this to keep my courage up. You know in your heart + that there is no hope for us. Nothing can save us now. The water will come + creeping—creeping—' + </p> + <p> + 'Let it creep! It can't get past that rock there.' + </p> + <p> + 'What do you mean?' + </p> + <p> + 'It can't. The tide doesn't come up any farther. I know, because I was + caught here last week.' + </p> + <p> + For a moment she looked at him without speaking. Then she uttered a cry in + which relief, surprise, and indignation were so nicely blended that it + would have been impossible to say which predominated. + </p> + <p> + He was eyeing the approaching waters with an indulgent smile. + </p> + <p> + 'Why didn't you tell me?' she cried. + </p> + <p> + 'I did tell you.' + </p> + <p> + 'You know what I mean. Why did you let me go on thinking we were in + danger, when—' + </p> + <p> + 'We <i>were</i> in danger. We shall probably get pneumonia.' + </p> + <p> + 'Isch!' + </p> + <p> + 'There! You're sneezing already.' + </p> + <p> + 'I am not sneezing. That was an exclamation of disgust.' + </p> + <p> + 'It sounded like a sneeze. It must have been, for you've every reason to + sneeze, but why you should utter exclamations of disgust I cannot + imagine.' + </p> + <p> + 'I'm disgusted with you—with your meanness. You deliberately tricked + me into saying—' + </p> + <p> + 'Saying—' + </p> + <p> + She was silent. + </p> + <p> + 'What you said was that you loved me with all your heart and soul. You + can't get away from that, and it's good enough for me.' + </p> + <p> + 'Well, it's not true any longer.' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, it is,' said Wilton, comfortably; 'bless it.' + </p> + <p> + 'It is not. I'm going right away now, and I shall never speak to you + again.' + </p> + <p> + She moved away from him, and prepared to sit down. + </p> + <p> + 'There's a jelly-fish just where you're going to sit,' said Wilton. + </p> + <p> + 'I don't care.' + </p> + <p> + 'It will. I speak from experience, as one on whom you have sat so often.' + </p> + <p> + 'I'm not amused.' + </p> + <p> + 'Have patience. I can be funnier than that.' + </p> + <p> + 'Please don't talk to me.' + </p> + <p> + 'Very well.' + </p> + <p> + She seated herself with her back to him. Dignity demanded reprisals, so he + seated himself with his back to her; and the futile ocean raged towards + them, and the wind grew chillier every minute. + </p> + <p> + Time passed. Darkness fell. The little bay became a black cavern, dotted + here and there with white, where the breeze whipped the surface of the + water. + </p> + <p> + Wilton sighed. It was lonely sitting there all by himself. How much + jollier it would have been if— + </p> + <p> + A hand touched his shoulder, and a voice spoke—meekly. + </p> + <p> + 'Jack, dear, it—it's awfully cold. Don't you think if we were to—snuggle + up—' + </p> + <p> + He reached out and folded her in an embrace which would have aroused the + professional enthusiasm of Hackenschmidt and drawn guttural + congratulations from Zbysco. She creaked, but did not crack, beneath the + strain. + </p> + <p> + 'That's much nicer,' she said, softly. 'Jack, I don't think the tide's + started even to think of going down yet.' + </p> + <p> + 'I hope not,' said Wilton. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE MIXER + </h2> + <p> + I. <i>He Meets a Shy Gentleman</i> + </p> + <p> + Looking back, I always consider that my career as a dog proper really + started when I was bought for the sum of half a crown by the Shy Man. That + event marked the end of my puppyhood. The knowledge that I was worth + actual cash to somebody filled me with a sense of new responsibilities. It + sobered me. Besides, it was only after that half-crown changed hands that + I went out into the great world; and, however interesting life may be in + an East End public-house, it is only when you go out into the world that + you really broaden your mind and begin to see things. + </p> + <p> + Within its limitations, my life had been singularly full and vivid. I was + born, as I say, in a public-house in the East End, and, however lacking a + public-house may be in refinement and the true culture, it certainly + provides plenty of excitement. Before I was six weeks old I had upset + three policemen by getting between their legs when they came round to the + side-door, thinking they had heard suspicious noises; and I can still + recall the interesting sensation of being chased seventeen times round the + yard with a broom-handle after a well-planned and completely successful + raid on the larder. These and other happenings of a like nature soothed + for the moment but could not cure the restlessness which has always been + so marked a trait in my character. I have always been restless, unable to + settle down in one place and anxious to get on to the next thing. This may + be due to a gipsy strain in my ancestry—one of my uncles travelled + with a circus—or it may be the Artistic Temperament, acquired from a + grandfather who, before dying of a surfeit of paste in the property-room + of the Bristol Coliseum, which he was visiting in the course of a + professional tour, had an established reputation on the music-hall stage + as one of Professor Pond's Performing Poodles. + </p> + <p> + I owe the fullness and variety of my life to this restlessness of mine, + for I have repeatedly left comfortable homes in order to follow some + perfect stranger who looked as if he were on his way to somewhere + interesting. Sometimes I think I must have cat blood in me. + </p> + <p> + The Shy Man came into our yard one afternoon in April, while I was + sleeping with mother in the sun on an old sweater which we had borrowed + from Fred, one of the barmen. I heard mother growl, but I didn't take any + notice. Mother is what they call a good watch-dog, and she growls at + everybody except master. At first, when she used to do it, I would get up + and bark my head off, but not now. Life's too short to bark at everybody + who comes into our yard. It is behind the public-house, and they keep + empty bottles and things there, so people are always coming and going. + </p> + <p> + Besides, I was tired. I had had a very busy morning, helping the men bring + in a lot of cases of beer, and running into the saloon to talk to Fred and + generally looking after things. So I was just dozing off again, when I + heard a voice say, 'Well, he's ugly enough!' Then I knew that they were + talking about me. + </p> + <p> + I have never disguised it from myself, and nobody has ever disguised it + from me, that I am not a handsome dog. Even mother never thought me + beautiful. She was no Gladys Cooper herself, but she never hesitated to + criticize my appearance. In fact, I have yet to meet anyone who did. The + first thing strangers say about me is, 'What an ugly dog!' + </p> + <p> + I don't know what I am. I have a bulldog kind of a face, but the rest of + me is terrier. I have a long tail which sticks straight up in the air. My + hair is wiry. My eyes are brown. I am jet black, with a white chest. I + once overheard Fred saying that I was a Gorgonzola cheese-hound, and I + have generally found Fred reliable in his statements. + </p> + <p> + When I found that I was under discussion, I opened my eyes. Master was + standing there, looking down at me, and by his side the man who had just + said I was ugly enough. The man was a thin man, about the age of a barman + and smaller than a policeman. He had patched brown shoes and black + trousers. + </p> + <p> + 'But he's got a sweet nature,' said master. + </p> + <p> + This was true, luckily for me. Mother always said, 'A dog without + influence or private means, if he is to make his way in the world, must + have either good looks or amiability.' But, according to her, I overdid + it. 'A dog,' she used to say, 'can have a good heart, without chumming + with every Tom, Dick, and Harry he meets. Your behaviour is sometimes + quite un-doglike.' Mother prided herself on being a one-man dog. She kept + herself to herself, and wouldn't kiss anybody except master—not even + Fred. + </p> + <p> + Now, I'm a mixer. I can't help it. It's my nature. I like men. I like the + taste of their boots, the smell of their legs, and the sound of their + voices. It may be weak of me, but a man has only to speak to me and a sort + of thrill goes right down my spine and sets my tail wagging. + </p> + <p> + I wagged it now. The man looked at me rather distantly. He didn't pat me. + I suspected—what I afterwards found to be the case—that he was + shy, so I jumped up at him to put him at his ease. Mother growled again. I + felt that she did not approve. + </p> + <p> + 'Why, he's took quite a fancy to you already,' said master. + </p> + <p> + The man didn't say a word. He seemed to be brooding on something. He was + one of those silent men. He reminded me of Joe, the old dog down the + street at the grocer's shop, who lies at the door all day, blinking and + not speaking to anybody. + </p> + <p> + Master began to talk about me. It surprised me, the way he praised me. I + hadn't a suspicion he admired me so much. From what he said you would have + thought I had won prizes and ribbons at the Crystal Palace. But the man + didn't seem to be impressed. He kept on saying nothing. + </p> + <p> + When master had finished telling him what a wonderful dog I was till I + blushed, the man spoke. + </p> + <p> + 'Less of it,' he said. 'Half a crown is my bid, and if he was an angel + from on high you couldn't get another ha'penny out of me. What about it?' + </p> + <p> + A thrill went down my spine and out at my tail, for of course I saw now + what was happening. The man wanted to buy me and take me away. I looked at + master hopefully. + </p> + <p> + 'He's more like a son to me than a dog,' said master, sort of wistful. + </p> + <p> + 'It's his face that makes you feel that way,' said the man, + unsympathetically. 'If you had a son that's just how he would look. Half a + crown is my offer, and I'm in a hurry.' + </p> + <p> + 'All right,' said master, with a sigh, 'though it's giving him away, a + valuable dog like that. Where's your half-crown?' + </p> + <p> + The man got a bit of rope and tied it round my neck. + </p> + <p> + I could hear mother barking advice and telling me to be a credit to the + family, but I was too excited to listen. + </p> + <p> + 'Good-bye, mother,' I said. 'Good-bye, master. Good-bye, Fred. Good-bye + everybody. I'm off to see life. The Shy Man has bought me for half a + crown. Wow!' + </p> + <p> + I kept running round in circles and shouting, till the man gave me a kick + and told me to stop it. + </p> + <p> + So I did. + </p> + <p> + I don't know where we went, but it was a long way. I had never been off + our street before in my life and I didn't know the whole world was half as + big as that. We walked on and on, and the man jerked at my rope whenever I + wanted to stop and look at anything. He wouldn't even let me pass the time + of the day with dogs we met. + </p> + <p> + When we had gone about a hundred miles and were just going to turn in at a + dark doorway, a policeman suddenly stopped the man. I could feel by the + way the man pulled at my rope and tried to hurry on that he didn't want to + speak to the policeman. The more I saw of the man the more I saw how shy + he was. + </p> + <p> + 'Hi!' said the policeman, and we had to stop. + </p> + <p> + 'I've got a message for you, old pal,' said the policeman. 'It's from the + Board of Health. They told me to tell you you needed a change of air. + See?' + </p> + <p> + 'All right!' said the man. + </p> + <p> + 'And take it as soon as you like. Else you'll find you'll get it given + you. See?' + </p> + <p> + I looked at the man with a good deal of respect. He was evidently someone + very important, if they worried so about his health. + </p> + <p> + 'I'm going down to the country tonight,' said the man. + </p> + <p> + The policeman seemed pleased. + </p> + <p> + 'That's a bit of luck for the country,' he said. 'Don't go changing your + mind.' + </p> + <p> + And we walked on, and went in at the dark doorway, and climbed about a + million stairs and went into a room that smelt of rats. The man sat down + and swore a little, and I sat and looked at him. + </p> + <p> + Presently I couldn't keep it in any longer. + </p> + <p> + 'Do we live here?' I said. 'Is it true we're going to the country? Wasn't + that policeman a good sort? Don't you like policemen? I knew lots of + policemen at the public-house. Are there any other dogs here? What is + there for dinner? What's in that cupboard? When are you going to take me + out for another run? May I go out and see if I can find a cat?' + </p> + <p> + 'Stop that yelping,' he said. + </p> + <p> + 'When we go to the country, where shall we live? Are you going to be a + caretaker at a house? Fred's father is a caretaker at a big house in Kent. + I've heard Fred talk about it. You didn't meet Fred when you came to the + public-house, did you? You would like Fred. I like Fred. Mother likes + Fred. We all like Fred.' + </p> + <p> + I was going on to tell him a lot more about Fred, who had always been one + of my warmest friends, when he suddenly got hold of a stick and walloped + me with it. + </p> + <p> + 'You keep quiet when you're told,' he said. + </p> + <p> + He really was the shyest man I had ever met. It seemed to hurt him to be + spoken to. However, he was the boss, and I had to humour him, so I didn't + say any more. + </p> + <p> + We went down to the country that night, just as the man had told the + policeman we would. I was all worked up, for I had heard so much about the + country from Fred that I had always wanted to go there. Fred used to go + off on a motor-bicycle sometimes to spend the night with his father in + Kent, and once he brought back a squirrel with him, which I thought was + for me to eat, but mother said no. 'The first thing a dog has to learn,' + mother used often to say, 'is that the whole world wasn't created for him + to eat.' + </p> + <p> + It was quite dark when we got to the country, but the man seemed to know + where to go. He pulled at my rope, and we began to walk along a road with + no people in it at all. We walked on and on, but it was all so new to me + that I forgot how tired I was. I could feel my mind broadening with every + step I took. + </p> + <p> + Every now and then we would pass a very big house, which looked as if it + was empty, but I knew that there was a caretaker inside, because of Fred's + father. These big houses belong to very rich people, but they don't want + to live in them till the summer, so they put in caretakers, and the + caretakers have a dog to keep off burglars. I wondered if that was what I + had been brought here for. + </p> + <p> + 'Are you going to be a caretaker?' I asked the man. + </p> + <p> + 'Shut up,' he said. + </p> + <p> + So I shut up. + </p> + <p> + After we had been walking a long time, we came to a cottage. A man came + out. My man seemed to know him, for he called him Bill. I was quite + surprised to see the man was not at all shy with Bill. They seemed very + friendly. + </p> + <p> + 'Is that him?' said Bill, looking at me. + </p> + <p> + 'Bought him this afternoon,' said the man. + </p> + <p> + 'Well,' said Bill, 'he's ugly enough. He looks fierce. If you want a dog, + he's the sort of dog you want. But what do you want one for? It seems to + me it's a lot of trouble to take, when there's no need of any trouble at + all. Why not do what I've always wanted to do? What's wrong with just + fixing the dog, same as it's always done, and walking in and helping + yourself?' + </p> + <p> + 'I'll tell you what's wrong,' said the man. 'To start with, you can't get + at the dog to fix him except by day, when they let him out. At night he's + shut up inside the house. And suppose you do fix him during the day what + happens then? Either the bloke gets another before night, or else he sits + up all night with a gun. It isn't like as if these blokes was ordinary + blokes. They're down here to look after the house. That's their job, and + they don't take any chances.' + </p> + <p> + It was the longest speech I had ever heard the man make, and it seemed to + impress Bill. He was quite humble. + </p> + <p> + 'I didn't think of that,' he said. 'We'd best start in to train this tyke + at once.' + </p> + <p> + Mother often used to say, when I went on about wanting to go out into the + world and see life, 'You'll be sorry when you do. The world isn't all + bones and liver.' And I hadn't been living with the man and Bill in their + cottage long before I found out how right she was. + </p> + <p> + It was the man's shyness that made all the trouble. It seemed as if he + hated to be taken notice of. + </p> + <p> + It started on my very first night at the cottage. I had fallen asleep in + the kitchen, tired out after all the excitement of the day and the long + walks I had had, when something woke me with a start. It was somebody + scratching at the window, trying to get in. + </p> + <p> + Well, I ask you, I ask any dog, what would you have done in my place? Ever + since I was old enough to listen, mother had told me over and over again + what I must do in a case like this. It is the A B C of a dog's education. + 'If you are in a room and you hear anyone trying to get in,' mother used + to say, 'bark. It may be someone who has business there, or it may not. + Bark first, and inquire afterwards. Dogs were made to be heard and not + seen.' + </p> + <p> + I lifted my head and yelled. I have a good, deep voice, due to a hound + strain in my pedigree, and at the public-house, when there was a full + moon, I have often had people leaning out of the windows and saying things + all down the street. I took a deep breath and let it go. + </p> + <p> + 'Man!' I shouted. 'Bill! Man! Come quick! Here's a burglar getting in!' + </p> + <p> + Then somebody struck a light, and it was the man himself. He had come in + through the window. + </p> + <p> + He picked up a stick, and he walloped me. I couldn't understand it. I + couldn't see where I had done the wrong thing. But he was the boss, so + there was nothing to be said. + </p> + <p> + If you'll believe me, that same thing happened every night. Every single + night! And sometimes twice or three times before morning. And every time I + would bark my loudest and the man would strike a light and wallop me. The + thing was baffling. I couldn't possibly have mistaken what mother had said + to me. She said it too often for that. Bark! Bark! Bark! It was the main + plank of her whole system of education. And yet, here I was, getting + walloped every night for doing it. + </p> + <p> + I thought it out till my head ached, and finally I got it right. I began + to see that mother's outlook was narrow. No doubt, living with a man like + master at the public-house, a man without a trace of shyness in his + composition, barking was all right. But circumstances alter cases. I + belonged to a man who was a mass of nerves, who got the jumps if you spoke + to him. What I had to do was to forget the training I had had from mother, + sound as it no doubt was as a general thing, and to adapt myself to the + needs of the particular man who had happened to buy me. I had tried + mother's way, and all it had brought me was walloping, so now I would + think for myself. + </p> + <p> + So next night, when I heard the window go, I lay there without a word, + though it went against all my better feelings. I didn't even growl. + Someone came in and moved about in the dark, with a lantern, but, though I + smelt that it was the man, I didn't ask him a single question. And + presently the man lit a light and came over to me and gave me a pat, which + was a thing he had never done before. + </p> + <p> + 'Good dog!' he said. 'Now you can have this.' + </p> + <p> + And he let me lick out the saucepan in which the dinner had been cooked. + </p> + <p> + After that, we got on fine. Whenever I heard anyone at the window I just + kept curled up and took no notice, and every time I got a bone or + something good. It was easy, once you had got the hang of things. + </p> + <p> + It was about a week after that the man took me out one morning, and we + walked a long way till we turned in at some big gates and went along a + very smooth road till we came to a great house, standing all by itself in + the middle of a whole lot of country. There was a big lawn in front of it, + and all round there were fields and trees, and at the back a great wood. + </p> + <p> + The man rang a bell, and the door opened, and an old man came out. + </p> + <p> + 'Well?' he said, not very cordially. + </p> + <p> + 'I thought you might want to buy a good watch-dog,' said the man. + </p> + <p> + 'Well, that's queer, your saying that,' said the caretaker. 'It's a + coincidence. That's exactly what I do want to buy. I was just thinking of + going along and trying to get one. My old dog picked up something this + morning that he oughtn't to have, and he's dead, poor feller.' + </p> + <p> + 'Poor feller,' said the man. 'Found an old bone with phosphorus on it, I + guess.' + </p> + <p> + 'What do you want for this one?' + </p> + <p> + 'Five shillings.' + </p> + <p> + 'Is he a good watch-dog?' + </p> + <p> + 'He's a grand watch-dog.' + </p> + <p> + 'He looks fierce enough.' + </p> + <p> + 'Ah!' + </p> + <p> + So the caretaker gave the man his five shillings, and the man went off and + left me. + </p> + <p> + At first the newness of everything and the unaccustomed smells and getting + to know the caretaker, who was a nice old man, prevented my missing the + man, but as the day went on and I began to realize that he had gone and + would never come back, I got very depressed. I pattered all over the + house, whining. It was a most interesting house, bigger than I thought a + house could possibly be, but it couldn't cheer me up. You may think it + strange that I should pine for the man, after all the wallopings he had + given me, and it is odd, when you come to think of it. But dogs are dogs, + and they are built like that. By the time it was evening I was thoroughly + miserable. I found a shoe and an old clothes-brush in one of the rooms, + but could eat nothing. I just sat and moped. + </p> + <p> + It's a funny thing, but it seems as if it always happened that just when + you are feeling most miserable, something nice happens. As I sat there, + there came from outside the sound of a motor-bicycle, and somebody + shouted. + </p> + <p> + It was dear old Fred, my old pal Fred, the best old boy that ever stepped. + I recognized his voice in a second, and I was scratching at the door + before the old man had time to get up out of his chair. + </p> + <p> + Well, well, well! That was a pleasant surprise! I ran five times round the + lawn without stopping, and then I came back and jumped up at him. + </p> + <p> + 'What are you doing down here, Fred?' I said. 'Is this caretaker your + father? Have you seen the rabbits in the wood? How long are you going to + stop? How's mother? I like the country. Have you come all the way from the + public-house? I'm living here now. Your father gave five shillings for me. + That's twice as much as I was worth when I saw you last.' + </p> + <p> + 'Why, it's young Nigger!' That was what they called me at the saloon. + 'What are you doing here? Where did you get this dog, father?' + </p> + <p> + 'A man sold him to me this morning. Poor old Bob got poisoned. This one + ought to be just as good a watch-dog. He barks loud enough.' + </p> + <p> + 'He should be. His mother is the best watch-dog in London. This + cheese-hound used to belong to the boss. Funny him getting down here.' + </p> + <p> + We went into the house and had supper. And after supper we sat and talked. + Fred was only down for the night, he said, because the boss wanted him + back next day. + </p> + <p> + 'And I'd sooner have my job, than yours, dad,' he said. 'Of all the lonely + places! I wonder you aren't scared of burglars.' + </p> + <p> + 'I've my shot-gun, and there's the dog. I might be scared if it wasn't for + him, but he kind of gives me confidence. Old Bob was the same. Dogs are a + comfort in the country.' + </p> + <p> + 'Get many tramps here?' + </p> + <p> + 'I've only seen one in two months, and that's the feller who sold me the + dog here.' + </p> + <p> + As they were talking about the man, I asked Fred if he knew him. They + might have met at the public-house, when the man was buying me from the + boss. + </p> + <p> + 'You would like him,' I said. 'I wish you could have met.' + </p> + <p> + They both looked at me. + </p> + <p> + 'What's he growling at?' asked Fred. 'Think he heard something?' + </p> + <p> + The old man laughed. + </p> + <p> + 'He wasn't growling. He was talking in his sleep. You're nervous, Fred. It + comes of living in the city.' + </p> + <p> + 'Well, I am. I like this place in the daytime, but it gives me the pip at + night. It's so quiet. How you can stand it here all the time, I can't + understand. Two nights of it would have me seeing things.' + </p> + <p> + His father laughed. + </p> + <p> + 'If you feel like that, Fred, you had better take the gun to bed with you. + I shall be quite happy without it.' + </p> + <p> + 'I will,' said Fred. 'I'll take six if you've got them.' + </p> + <p> + And after that they went upstairs. I had a basket in the hall, which had + belonged to Bob, the dog who had got poisoned. It was a comfortable + basket, but I was so excited at having met Fred again that I couldn't + sleep. Besides, there was a smell of mice somewhere, and I had to move + around, trying to place it. + </p> + <p> + I was just sniffing at a place in the wall, when I heard a scratching + noise. At first I thought it was the mice working in a different place, + but, when I listened, I found that the sound came from the window. + Somebody was doing something to it from outside. + </p> + <p> + If it had been mother, she would have lifted the roof off right there, and + so should I, if it hadn't been for what the man had taught me. I didn't + think it possible that this could be the man come back, for he had gone + away and said nothing about ever seeing me again. But I didn't bark. I + stopped where I was and listened. And presently the window came open, and + somebody began to climb in. + </p> + <p> + I gave a good sniff, and I knew it was the man. + </p> + <p> + I was so delighted that for a moment I nearly forgot myself and shouted + with joy, but I remembered in time how shy he was, and stopped myself. But + I ran to him and jumped up quite quietly, and he told me to lie down. I + was disappointed that he didn't seem more pleased to see me. I lay down. + </p> + <p> + It was very dark, but he had brought a lantern with him, and I could see + him moving about the room, picking things up and putting them in a bag + which he had brought with him. Every now and then he would stop and + listen, and then he would start moving round again. He was very quick + about it, but very quiet. It was plain that he didn't want Fred or his + father to come down and find him. + </p> + <p> + I kept thinking about this peculiarity of his while I watched him. I + suppose, being chummy myself, I find it hard to understand that everybody + else in the world isn't chummy too. Of course, my experience at the + public-house had taught me that men are just as different from each other + as dogs. If I chewed master's shoe, for instance, he used to kick me; but + if I chewed Fred's, Fred would tickle me under the ear. And, similarly, + some men are shy and some men are mixers. I quite appreciated that, but I + couldn't help feeling that the man carried shyness to a point where it + became morbid. And he didn't give himself a chance to cure himself of it. + That was the point. Imagine a man hating to meet people so much that he + never visited their houses till the middle of the night, when they were in + bed and asleep. It was silly. Shyness has always been something so outside + my nature that I suppose I have never really been able to look at it + sympathetically. I have always held the view that you can get over it if + you make an effort. The trouble with the man was that he wouldn't make an + effort. He went out of his way to avoid meeting people. + </p> + <p> + I was fond of the man. He was the sort of person you never get to know + very well, but we had been together for quite a while, and I wouldn't have + been a dog if I hadn't got attached to him. + </p> + <p> + As I sat and watched him creep about the room, it suddenly came to me that + here was a chance of doing him a real good turn in spite of himself. Fred + was upstairs, and Fred, as I knew by experience, was the easiest man to + get along with in the world. Nobody could be shy with Fred. I felt that if + only I could bring him and the man together, they would get along + splendidly, and it would teach the man not to be silly and avoid people. + It would help to give him the confidence which he needed. I had seen him + with Bill, and I knew that he could be perfectly natural and easy when he + liked. + </p> + <p> + It was true that the man might object at first, but after a while he would + see that I had acted simply for his good, and would be grateful. + </p> + <p> + The difficulty was, how to get Fred down without scaring the man. I knew + that if I shouted he wouldn't wait, but would be out of the window and + away before Fred could get there. What I had to do was to go to Fred's + room, explain the whole situation quietly to him, and ask him to come down + and make himself pleasant. + </p> + <p> + The man was far too busy to pay any attention to me. He was kneeling in a + corner with his back to me, putting something in his bag. I seized the + opportunity to steal softly from the room. + </p> + <p> + Fred's door was shut, and I could hear him snoring. I scratched gently, + and then harder, till I heard the snores stop. He got out of bed and + opened the door. + </p> + <p> + 'Don't make a noise,' I whispered. 'Come on downstairs. I want you to meet + a friend of mine.' + </p> + <p> + At first he was quite peevish. + </p> + <p> + 'What's the idea,' he said, 'coming and spoiling a man's beauty-sleep? Get + out.' + </p> + <p> + He actually started to go back into the room. + </p> + <p> + 'No, honestly, Fred,' I said, 'I'm not fooling you. There is a man + downstairs. He got in through the window. I want you to meet him. He's + very shy, and I think it will do him good to have a chat with you.' + </p> + <p> + 'What are you whining about?' Fred began, and then he broke off suddenly + and listened. We could both hear the man's footsteps as he moved about. + </p> + <p> + Fred jumped back into the room. He came out, carrying something. He didn't + say any more but started to go downstairs, very quiet, and I went after + him. + </p> + <p> + There was the man, still putting things in his bag. I was just going to + introduce Fred, when Fred, the silly ass, gave a great yell. + </p> + <p> + I could have bitten him. + </p> + <p> + 'What did you want to do that for, you chump?' I said 'I told you he was + shy. Now you've scared him.' + </p> + <p> + He certainly had. The man was out of the window quicker than you would + have believed possible. He just flew out. I called after him that it was + only Fred and me, but at that moment a gun went off with a tremendous + bang, so he couldn't have heard me. + </p> + <p> + I was pretty sick about it. The whole thing had gone wrong. Fred seemed to + have lost his head entirely. He was behaving like a perfect ass. Naturally + the man had been frightened with him carrying on in that way. I jumped out + of the window to see if I could find the man and explain, but he was gone. + Fred jumped out after me, and nearly squashed me. + </p> + <p> + It was pitch dark out there. I couldn't see a thing. But I knew the man + could not have gone far, or I should have heard him. I started to sniff + round on the chance of picking up his trail. It wasn't long before I + struck it. + </p> + <p> + Fred's father had come down now, and they were running about. The old man + had a light. I followed the trail, and it ended at a large cedar-tree, not + far from the house. I stood underneath it and looked up, but of course I + could not see anything. + </p> + <p> + 'Are you up there?' I shouted. 'There's nothing to be scared at. It was + only Fred. He's an old pal of mine. He works at the place where you bought + me. His gun went off by accident. He won't hurt you.' + </p> + <p> + There wasn't a sound. I began to think I must have made a mistake. + </p> + <p> + 'He's got away,' I heard Fred say to his father, and just as he said it I + caught a faint sound of someone moving in the branches above me. + </p> + <p> + 'No he hasn't!' I shouted. 'He's up this tree.' + </p> + <p> + 'I believe the dog's found him, dad!' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, he's up here. Come along and meet him.' + </p> + <p> + Fred came to the foot of the tree. + </p> + <p> + 'You up there,' he said, 'come along down.' + </p> + <p> + Not a sound from the tree. + </p> + <p> + 'It's all right,' I explained, 'he <i>is</i> up there, but he's very shy. + Ask him again.' + </p> + <p> + 'All right,' said Fred. 'Stay there if you want to. But I'm going to shoot + off this gun into the branches just for fun.' + </p> + <p> + And then the man started to come down. As soon as he touched the ground I + jumped up at him. + </p> + <p> + 'This is fine!' I said 'Here's my friend Fred. You'll like him.' + </p> + <p> + But it wasn't any good. They didn't get along together at all. They hardly + spoke. The man went into the house, and Fred went after him, carrying his + gun. And when they got into the house it was just the same. The man sat in + one chair, and Fred sat in another, and after a long time some men came in + a motor-car, and the man went away with them. He didn't say good-bye to + me. + </p> + <p> + When he had gone, Fred and his father made a great fuss of me. I couldn't + understand it. Men are so odd. The man wasn't a bit pleased that I had + brought him and Fred together, but Fred seemed as if he couldn't do enough + for me for having introduced him to the man. However, Fred's father + produced some cold ham—my favourite dish—and gave me quite a + lot of it, so I stopped worrying over the thing. As mother used to say, + 'Don't bother your head about what doesn't concern you. The only thing a + dog need concern himself with is the bill-of-fare. Eat your bun, and don't + make yourself busy about other people's affairs.' Mother's was in some + ways a narrow outlook, but she had a great fund of sterling common sense. + </p> + <p> + II. <i>He Moves in Society</i> + </p> + <p> + It was one of those things which are really nobody's fault. It was not the + chauffeur's fault, and it was not mine. I was having a friendly turn-up + with a pal of mine on the side-walk; he ran across the road; I ran after + him; and the car came round the corner and hit me. It must have been going + pretty slow, or I should have been killed. As it was, I just had the + breath knocked out of me. You know how you feel when the butcher catches + you just as you are edging out of the shop with a bit of meat. It was like + that. + </p> + <p> + I wasn't taking much interest in things for awhile, but when I did I found + that I was the centre of a group of three—the chauffeur, a small + boy, and the small boy's nurse. + </p> + <p> + The small boy was very well-dressed, and looked delicate. He was crying. + </p> + <p> + 'Poor doggie,' he said, 'poor doggie.' + </p> + <p> + 'It wasn't my fault, Master Peter,' said the chauffeur respectfully. 'He + run out into the road before I seen him.' + </p> + <p> + 'That's right,' I put in, for I didn't want to get the man into trouble. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, he's not dead,' said the small boy. 'He barked.' + </p> + <p> + 'He growled,' said the nurse. 'Come away, Master Peter. He might bite + you.' + </p> + <p> + Women are trying sometimes. It is almost as if they deliberately + misunderstood. + </p> + <p> + 'I won't come away. I'm going to take him home with me and send for the + doctor to come and see him. He's going to be my dog.' + </p> + <p> + This sounded all right. Goodness knows I am no snob, and can rough it when + required, but I do like comfort when it comes my way, and it seemed to me + that this was where I got it. And I liked the boy. He was the right sort. + </p> + <p> + The nurse, a very unpleasant woman, had to make objections. + </p> + <p> + 'Master Peter! You can't take him home, a great, rough, fierce, common + dog! What would your mother say?' + </p> + <p> + 'I'm going to take him home,' repeated the child, with a determination + which I heartily admired, 'and he's going to be my dog. I shall call him + Fido.' + </p> + <p> + There's always a catch in these good things. Fido is a name I particularly + detest. All dogs do. There was a dog called that that I knew once, and he + used to get awfully sick when we shouted it out after him in the street. + No doubt there have been respectable dogs called Fido, but to my mind it + is a name like Aubrey or Clarence. You may be able to live it down, but + you start handicapped. However, one must take the rough with the smooth, + and I was prepared to yield the point. + </p> + <p> + 'If you wait, Master Peter, your father will buy you a beautiful, lovely + dog....' + </p> + <p> + 'I don't want a beautiful, lovely dog. I want this dog.' + </p> + <p> + The slur did not wound me. I have no illusions about my looks. Mine is an + honest, but not a beautiful, face. + </p> + <p> + 'It's no use talking,' said the chauffeur, grinning. 'He means to have + him. Shove him in, and let's be getting back, or they'll be thinking His + Nibs has been kidnapped.' + </p> + <p> + So I was carried to the car. I could have walked, but I had an idea that I + had better not. I had made my hit as a crippled dog, and a crippled dog I + intended to remain till things got more settled down. + </p> + <p> + The chauffeur started the car off again. What with the shock I had had and + the luxury of riding in a motor-car, I was a little distrait, and I could + not say how far we went. But it must have been miles and miles, for it + seemed a long time afterwards that we stopped at the biggest house I have + ever seen. There were smooth lawns and flower-beds, and men in overalls, + and fountains and trees, and, away to the right, kennels with about a + million dogs in them, all pushing their noses through the bars and + shouting. They all wanted to know who I was and what prizes I had won, and + then I realized that I was moving in high society. + </p> + <p> + I let the small boy pick me up and carry me into the house, though it was + all he could do, poor kid, for I was some weight. He staggered up the + steps and along a great hall, and then let me flop on the carpet of the + most beautiful room you ever saw. The carpet was a yard thick. + </p> + <p> + There was a woman sitting in a chair, and as soon as she saw me she gave a + shriek. + </p> + <p> + 'I told Master Peter you would not be pleased, m'lady,' said the nurse, + who seemed to have taken a positive dislike to me, 'but he would bring the + nasty brute home.' + </p> + <p> + 'He's not a nasty brute, mother. He's my dog, and his name's Fido. John + ran over him in the car, and I brought him home to live with us. I love + him.' + </p> + <p> + This seemed to make an impression. Peter's mother looked as if she were + weakening. + </p> + <p> + 'But, Peter, dear, I don't know what your father will say. He's so + particular about dogs. All his dogs are prize-winners, pedigree dogs. This + is such a mongrel.' + </p> + <p> + 'A nasty, rough, ugly, common dog, m'lady,' said the nurse, sticking her + oar in in an absolutely uncalled-for way. + </p> + <p> + Just then a man came into the room. + </p> + <p> + 'What on earth?' he said, catching sight of me. + </p> + <p> + 'It's a dog Peter has brought home. He says he wants to keep him.' + </p> + <p> + 'I'm going to keep him,' corrected Peter firmly. + </p> + <p> + I do like a child that knows his own mind. I was getting fonder of Peter + every minute. I reached up and licked his hand. + </p> + <p> + 'See! He knows he's my dog, don't you, Fido? He licked me.' + </p> + <p> + 'But, Peter, he looks so fierce.' This, unfortunately, is true. I do look + fierce. It is rather a misfortune for a perfectly peaceful dog. 'I'm sure + it's not safe your having him.' + </p> + <p> + 'He's my dog, and his name's Fido. I am going to tell cook to give him a + bone.' + </p> + <p> + His mother looked at his father, who gave rather a nasty laugh. + </p> + <p> + 'My dear Helen,' he said, 'ever since Peter was born, ten years ago, he + has not asked for a single thing, to the best of my recollection, which he + has not got. Let us be consistent. I don't approve of this caricature of a + dog, but if Peter wants him, I suppose he must have him.' + </p> + <p> + 'Very well. But the first sign of viciousness he shows, he shall be shot. + He makes me nervous.' + </p> + <p> + So they left it at that, and I went off with Peter to get my bone. + </p> + <p> + After lunch, he took me to the kennels to introduce me to the other dogs. + I had to go, but I knew it would not be pleasant, and it wasn't. Any dog + will tell you what these prize-ribbon dogs are like. Their heads are so + swelled they have to go into their kennels backwards. + </p> + <p> + It was just as I had expected. There were mastiffs, terriers, poodles, + spaniels, bulldogs, sheepdogs, and every other kind of dog you can + imagine, all prize-winners at a hundred shows, and every single dog in the + place just shoved his head back and laughed himself sick. I never felt so + small in my life, and I was glad when it was over and Peter took me off to + the stables. + </p> + <p> + I was just feeling that I never wanted to see another dog in my life, when + a terrier ran out, shouting. As soon as he saw me, he came up inquiringly, + walking very stiff-legged, as terriers do when they see a stranger. + </p> + <p> + 'Well,' I said, 'and what particular sort of a prize-winner are you? Tell + me all about the ribbons they gave you at the Crystal Palace, and let's + get it over.' + </p> + <p> + He laughed in a way that did me good. + </p> + <p> + 'Guess again!' he said. 'Did you take me for one of the nuts in the + kennels? My name's Jack, and I belong to one of the grooms.' + </p> + <p> + 'What!' I cried. 'You aren't Champion Bowlegs Royal or anything of that + sort! I'm glad to meet you.' + </p> + <p> + So we rubbed noses as friendly as you please. It was a treat meeting one + of one's own sort. I had had enough of those high-toned dogs who look at + you as if you were something the garbage-man had forgotten to take away. + </p> + <p> + 'So you've been talking to the swells, have you?' said Jack. + </p> + <p> + 'He would take me,' I said, pointing to Peter. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, you're his latest, are you? Then you're all right—while it + lasts.' + </p> + <p> + 'How do you mean, while it lasts?' + </p> + <p> + 'Well, I'll tell you what happened to me. Young Peter took a great fancy + to me once. Couldn't do enough for me for a while. Then he got tired of + me, and out I went. You see, the trouble is that while he's a perfectly + good kid, he has always had everything he wanted since he was born, and he + gets tired of things pretty easy. It was a toy railway that finished me. + Directly he got that, I might not have been on the earth. It was lucky for + me that Dick, my present old man, happened to want a dog to keep down the + rats, or goodness knows what might not have happened to me. They aren't + keen on dogs here unless they've pulled down enough blue ribbons to sink a + ship, and mongrels like you and me—no offence—don't last long. + I expect you noticed that the grown-ups didn't exactly cheer when you + arrived?' + </p> + <p> + 'They weren't chummy.' + </p> + <p> + 'Well take it from me, your only chance is to make them chummy. If you do + something to please them, they might let you stay on, even though Peter + was tired of you.' + </p> + <p> + 'What sort of thing?' + </p> + <p> + 'That's for you to think out. I couldn't find one. I might tell you to + save Peter from drowning. You don't need a pedigree to do that. But you + can't drag the kid to the lake and push him in. That's the trouble. A dog + gets so few opportunities. But, take it from me, if you don't do something + within two weeks to make yourself solid with the adults, you can make your + will. In two weeks Peter will have forgotten all about you. It's not his + fault. It's the way he has been brought up. His father has all the money + on earth, and Peter's the only child. You can't blame him. All I say is, + look out for yourself. Well, I'm glad to have met you. Drop in again when + you can. I can give you some good ratting, and I have a bone or two put + away. So long.' + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + It worried me badly what Jack had said. I couldn't get it out of my mind. + If it hadn't been for that, I should have had a great time, for Peter + certainly made a lot of fuss of me. He treated me as if I were the only + friend he had. + </p> + <p> + And, in a way, I was. When you are the only son of a man who has all the + money in the world, it seems that you aren't allowed to be like an + ordinary kid. They coop you up, as if you were something precious that + would be contaminated by contact with other children. In all the time that + I was at the house I never met another child. Peter had everything in the + world, except someone of his own age to go round with; and that made him + different from any of the kids I had known. + </p> + <p> + He liked talking to me. I was the only person round who really understood + him. He would talk by the hour and I would listen with my tongue hanging + out and nod now and then. + </p> + <p> + It was worth listening to, what he used to tell me. He told me the most + surprising things. I didn't know, for instance, that there were any Red + Indians in England but he said there was a chief named Big Cloud who lived + in the rhododendron bushes by the lake. I never found him, though I went + carefully through them one day. He also said that there were pirates on + the island in the lake. I never saw them either. + </p> + <p> + What he liked telling me about best was the city of gold and precious + stones which you came to if you walked far enough through the woods at the + back of the stables. He was always meaning to go off there some day, and, + from the way he described it, I didn't blame him. It was certainly a + pretty good city. It was just right for dogs, too, he said, having bones + and liver and sweet cakes there and everything else a dog could want. It + used to make my mouth water to listen to him. + </p> + <p> + We were never apart. I was with him all day, and I slept on the mat in his + room at night. But all the time I couldn't get out of my mind what Jack + had said. I nearly did once, for it seemed to me that I was so necessary + to Peter that nothing could separate us; but just as I was feeling safe + his father gave him a toy aeroplane, which flew when you wound it up. The + day he got it, I might not have been on the earth. I trailed along, but he + hadn't a word to say to me. + </p> + <p> + Well, something went wrong with the aeroplane the second day, and it + wouldn't fly, and then I was in solid again; but I had done some hard + thinking and I knew just where I stood. I was the newest toy, that's what + I was, and something newer might come along at any moment, and then it + would be the finish for me. The only thing for me was to do something to + impress the adults, just as Jack had said. + </p> + <p> + Goodness knows I tried. But everything I did turned out wrong. There + seemed to be a fate about it. One morning, for example, I was trotting + round the house early, and I met a fellow I could have sworn was a + burglar. He wasn't one of the family, and he wasn't one of the servants, + and he was hanging round the house in a most suspicious way. I chased him + up a tree, and it wasn't till the family came down to breakfast, two hours + later, that I found that he was a guest who had arrived overnight, and had + come out early to enjoy the freshness of the morning and the sun shining + on the lake, he being that sort of man. That didn't help me much. + </p> + <p> + Next, I got in wrong with the boss, Peter's father. I don't know why. I + met him out in the park with another man, both carrying bundles of sticks + and looking very serious and earnest. Just as I reached him, the boss + lifted one of the sticks and hit a small white ball with it. He had never + seemed to want to play with me before, and I took it as a great + compliment. I raced after the ball, which he had hit quite a long way, + picked it up in my mouth, and brought it back to him. I laid it at his + feet, and smiled up at him. + </p> + <p> + 'Hit it again,' I said. + </p> + <p> + He wasn't pleased at all. He said all sorts of things and tried to kick + me, and that night, when he thought I was not listening, I heard him + telling his wife that I was a pest and would have to be got rid of. That + made me think. + </p> + <p> + And then I put the lid on it. With the best intentions in the world I got + myself into such a mess that I thought the end had come. + </p> + <p> + It happened one afternoon in the drawing-room. There were visitors that + day—women; and women seem fatal to me. I was in the background, + trying not to be seen, for, though I had been brought in by Peter, the + family never liked my coming into the drawing-room. I was hoping for a + piece of cake and not paying much attention to the conversation, which was + all about somebody called Toto, whom I had not met. Peter's mother said + Toto was a sweet little darling, he was; and one of the visitors said Toto + had not been at all himself that day and she was quite worried. And a good + lot more about how all that Toto would ever take for dinner was a little + white meat of chicken, chopped up fine. It was not very interesting, and I + had allowed my attention to wander. + </p> + <p> + And just then, peeping round the corner of my chair to see if there were + any signs of cake, what should I see but a great beastly brute of a rat. + It was standing right beside the visitor, drinking milk out of a saucer, + if you please! + </p> + <p> + I may have my faults, but procrastination in the presence of rats is not + one of them. I didn't hesitate for a second. Here was my chance. If there + is one thing women hate, it is a rat. Mother always used to say, 'If you + want to succeed in life, please the women. They are the real bosses. The + men don't count.' By eliminating this rodent I should earn the gratitude + and esteem of Peter's mother, and, if I did that, it did not matter what + Peter's father thought of me. + </p> + <p> + I sprang. + </p> + <p> + The rat hadn't a chance to get away. I was right on to him. I got hold of + his neck, gave him a couple of shakes, and chucked him across the room. + Then I ran across to finish him off. + </p> + <p> + Just as I reached him, he sat up and barked at me. I was never so taken + aback in my life. I pulled up short and stared at him. + </p> + <p> + 'I'm sure I beg your pardon, sir,' I said apologetically. 'I thought you + were a rat.' + </p> + <p> + And then everything broke loose. Somebody got me by the collar, somebody + else hit me on the head with a parasol, and somebody else kicked me in the + ribs. Everybody talked and shouted at the same time. + </p> + <p> + 'Poor darling Toto!' cried the visitor, snatching up the little animal. + 'Did the great savage brute try to murder you!' + </p> + <p> + 'So absolutely unprovoked!' + </p> + <p> + 'He just flew at the poor little thing!' + </p> + <p> + It was no good my trying to explain. Any dog in my place would have made + the same mistake. The creature was a toy-dog of one of those extraordinary + breeds—a prize-winner and champion, and so on, of course, and worth + his weight in gold. I would have done better to bite the visitor than + Toto. That much I gathered from the general run of the conversation, and + then, having discovered that the door was shut, I edged under the sofa. I + was embarrassed. + </p> + <p> + 'That settles it!' said Peter's mother. 'The dog is not safe. He must be + shot.' + </p> + <p> + Peter gave a yell at this, but for once he didn't swing the voting an + inch. + </p> + <p> + 'Be quiet, Peter,' said his mother. 'It is not safe for you to have such a + dog. He may be mad.' + </p> + <p> + Women are very unreasonable. + </p> + <p> + Toto, of course, wouldn't say a word to explain how the mistake arose. He + was sitting on the visitor's lap, shrieking about what he would have done + to me if they hadn't separated us. + </p> + <p> + Somebody felt cautiously under the sofa. I recognized the shoes of Weeks, + the butler. I suppose they had rung for him to come and take me, and I + could see that he wasn't half liking it. I was sorry for Weeks, who was a + friend of mine, so I licked his hand, and that seemed to cheer him up a + whole lot. + </p> + <p> + 'I have him now, madam,' I heard him say. + </p> + <p> + 'Take him to the stables and tie him up, Weeks, and tell one of the men to + bring his gun and shoot him. He is not safe.' + </p> + <p> + A few minutes later I was in an empty stall, tied up to the manger. + </p> + <p> + It was all over. It had been pleasant while it lasted, but I had reached + the end of my tether now. I don't think I was frightened, but a sense of + pathos stole over me. I had meant so well. It seemed as if good intentions + went for nothing in this world. I had tried so hard to please everybody, + and this was the result—tied up in a dark stable, waiting for the + end. + </p> + <p> + The shadows lengthened in the stable-yard, and still nobody came. I began + to wonder if they had forgotten me, and presently, in spite of myself, a + faint hope began to spring up inside me that this might mean that I was + not to be shot after all. Perhaps Toto at the eleventh hour had explained + everything. + </p> + <p> + And then footsteps sounded outside, and the hope died away. I shut my + eyes. + </p> + <p> + Somebody put his arms round my neck, and my nose touched a warm cheek. I + opened my eyes. It was not the man with the gun come to shoot me. It was + Peter. He was breathing very hard, and he had been crying. + </p> + <p> + 'Quiet!' he whispered. + </p> + <p> + He began to untie the rope. + </p> + <p> + 'You must keep quite quiet, or they will hear us, and then we shall be + stopped. I'm going to take you into the woods, and we'll walk and walk + until we come to the city I told you about that's all gold and diamonds, + and we'll live there for the rest of our lives, and no one will be able to + hurt us. But you must keep very quiet.' + </p> + <p> + He went to the stable-gate and looked out. Then he gave a little whistle + to me to come after him. And we started out to find the city. + </p> + <p> + The woods were a long way away, down a hill of long grass and across a + stream; and we went very carefully, keeping in the shadows and running + across the open spaces. And every now and then we would stop and look + back, but there was nobody to be seen. The sun was setting, and everything + was very cool and quiet. + </p> + <p> + Presently we came to the stream and crossed it by a little wooden bridge, + and then we were in the woods, where nobody could see us. + </p> + <p> + I had never been in the woods before, and everything was very new and + exciting to me. There were squirrels and rabbits and birds, more than I + had ever seen in my life, and little things that buzzed and flew and + tickled my ears. I wanted to rush about and look at everything, but Peter + called to me, and I came to heel. He knew where we were going, and I + didn't, so I let him lead. + </p> + <p> + We went very slowly. The wood got thicker and thicker the farther we got + into it. There were bushes that were difficult to push through, and long + branches, covered with thorns, that reached out at you and tore at you + when you tried to get away. And soon it was quite dark, so dark that I + could see nothing, not even Peter, though he was so close. We went slower + and slower, and the darkness was full of queer noises. From time to time + Peter would stop, and I would run to him and put my nose in his hand. At + first he patted me, but after a while he did not pat me any more, but just + gave me his hand to lick, as if it was too much for him to lift it. I + think he was getting very tired. He was quite a small boy and not strong, + and we had walked a long way. + </p> + <p> + It seemed to be getting darker and darker. I could hear the sound of + Peter's footsteps, and they seemed to drag as he forced his way through + the bushes. And then, quite suddenly, he sat down without any warning, and + when I ran up I heard him crying. + </p> + <p> + I suppose there are lots of dogs who would have known exactly the right + thing to do, but I could not think of anything except to put my nose + against his cheek and whine. He put his arm round my neck, and for a long + time we stayed like that, saying nothing. It seemed to comfort him, for + after a time he stopped crying. + </p> + <p> + I did not bother him by asking about the wonderful city where we were + going, for he was so tired. But I could not help wondering if we were near + it. There was not a sign of any city, nothing but darkness and odd noises + and the wind singing in the trees. Curious little animals, such as I had + never smelt before, came creeping out of the bushes to look at us. I would + have chased them, but Peter's arm was round my neck and I could not leave + him. But when something that smelt like a rabbit came so near that I could + have reached out a paw and touched it, I turned my head and snapped; and + then they all scurried back into the bushes and there were no more noises. + </p> + <p> + There was a long silence. Then Peter gave a great gulp. + </p> + <p> + 'I'm not frightened,' he said. 'I'm not!' + </p> + <p> + I shoved my head closer against his chest. There was another silence for a + long time. + </p> + <p> + 'I'm going to pretend we have been captured by brigands,' said Peter at + last. 'Are you listening? There were three of them, great big men with + beards, and they crept up behind me and snatched me up and took me out + here to their lair. This is their lair. One was called Dick, the others' + names were Ted and Alfred. They took hold of me and brought me all the way + through the wood till we got here, and then they went off, meaning to come + back soon. And while they were away, you missed me and tracked me through + the woods till you found me here. And then the brigands came back, and + they didn't know you were here, and you kept quite quiet till Dick was + quite near, and then you jumped out and bit him and he ran away. And then + you bit Ted and you bit Alfred, and they ran away too. And so we were left + all alone, and I was quite safe because you were here to look after me. + And then—And then—' + </p> + <p> + His voice died away, and the arm that was round my neck went limp, and I + could hear by his breathing that he was asleep. His head was resting on my + back, but I didn't move. I wriggled a little closer to make him as + comfortable as I could, and then I went to sleep myself. + </p> + <p> + I didn't sleep very well. I had funny dreams all the time, thinking these + little animals were creeping up close enough out of the bushes for me to + get a snap at them without disturbing Peter. + </p> + <p> + If I woke once, I woke a dozen times, but there was never anything there. + The wind sang in the trees and the bushes rustled, and far away in the + distance the frogs were calling. + </p> + <p> + And then I woke once more with the feeling that this time something really + was coming through the bushes. I lifted my head as far as I could, and + listened. For a little while nothing happened, and then, straight in front + of me, I saw lights. And there was a sound of trampling in the + undergrowth. + </p> + <p> + It was no time to think about not waking Peter. This was something + definite, something that had to be attended to quick. I was up with a + jump, yelling. Peter rolled off my back and woke up, and he sat there + listening, while I stood with my front paws on him and shouted at the men. + I was bristling all over. I didn't know who they were or what they wanted, + but the way I looked at it was that anything could happen in those woods + at that time of night, and, if anybody was coming along to start + something, he had got to reckon with me. + </p> + <p> + Somebody called, 'Peter! Are you there, Peter?' + </p> + <p> + There was a crashing in the bushes, the lights came nearer and nearer, and + then somebody said 'Here he is!' and there was a lot of shouting. I stood + where I was, ready to spring if necessary, for I was taking no chances. + </p> + <p> + 'Who are you?' I shouted. 'What do you want?' A light flashed in my eyes. + </p> + <p> + 'Why, it's that dog!' + </p> + <p> + Somebody came into the light, and I saw it was the boss. He was looking + very anxious and scared, and he scooped Peter up off the ground and hugged + him tight. + </p> + <p> + Peter was only half awake. He looked up at the boss drowsily, and began to + talk about brigands, and Dick and Ted and Alfred, the same as he had said + to me. There wasn't a sound till he had finished. Then the boss spoke. + </p> + <p> + 'Kidnappers! I thought as much. And the dog drove them away!' + </p> + <p> + For the first time in our acquaintance he actually patted me. + </p> + <p> + 'Good old man!' he said. + </p> + <p> + 'He's my dog,' said Peter sleepily, 'and he isn't to be shot.' + </p> + <p> + 'He certainly isn't, my boy,' said the boss. 'From now on he's the + honoured guest. He shall wear a gold collar and order what he wants for + dinner. And now let's be getting home. It's time you were in bed.' + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + Mother used to say, 'If you're a good dog, you will be happy. If you're + not, you won't,' but it seems to me that in this world it is all a matter + of luck. When I did everything I could to please people, they wanted to + shoot me; and when I did nothing except run away, they brought me back and + treated me better than the most valuable prize-winner in the kennels. It + was puzzling at first, but one day I heard the boss talking to a friend + who had come down from the city. + </p> + <p> + The friend looked at me and said, 'What an ugly mongrel! Why on earth do + you have him about? I thought you were so particular about your dogs?' + </p> + <p> + And the boss replied, 'He may be a mongrel, but he can have anything he + wants in this house. Didn't you hear how he saved Peter from being + kidnapped?' + </p> + <p> + And out it all came about the brigands. + </p> + <p> + 'The kid called them brigands,' said the boss. 'I suppose that's how it + would strike a child of that age. But he kept mentioning the name Dick, + and that put the police on the scent. It seems there's a kidnapper well + known to the police all over the country as Dick the Snatcher. It was + almost certainly that scoundrel and his gang. How they spirited the child + away, goodness knows, but they managed it, and the dog tracked them and + scared them off. We found him and Peter together in the woods. It was a + narrow escape, and we have to thank this animal here for it.' + </p> + <p> + What could I say? It was no more use trying to put them right than it had + been when I mistook Toto for a rat. Peter had gone to sleep that night + pretending about the brigands to pass the time, and when he awoke he still + believed in them. He was that sort of child. There was nothing that I + could do about it. + </p> + <p> + Round the corner, as the boss was speaking, I saw the kennel-man coming + with a plate in his hand. It smelt fine, and he was headed straight for + me. + </p> + <p> + He put the plate down before me. It was liver, which I love. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes,' went on the boss, 'if it hadn't been for him, Peter would have been + kidnapped and scared half to death, and I should be poorer, I suppose, by + whatever the scoundrels had chosen to hold me up for.' + </p> + <p> + I am an honest dog, and hate to obtain credit under false pretences, but—liver + is liver. I let it go at that. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CROWNED HEADS + </h2> + <p> + Katie had never been more surprised in her life than when the serious + young man with the brown eyes and the Charles Dana Gibson profile spirited + her away from his friend and Genevieve. Till that moment she had looked on + herself as playing a sort of 'villager and retainer' part to the + brown-eyed young man's hero and Genevieve's heroine. She knew she was not + pretty, though somebody (unidentified) had once said that she had nice + eyes; whereas Genevieve was notoriously a beauty, incessantly pestered, so + report had it, by musical comedy managers to go on the stage. + </p> + <p> + Genevieve was tall and blonde, a destroyer of masculine peace of mind. She + said 'harf' and 'rahther', and might easily have been taken for an English + duchess instead of a cloak-model at Macey's. You would have said, in + short, that, in the matter of personable young men, Genevieve would have + swept the board. Yet, here was this one deliberately selecting her, Katie, + for his companion. It was almost a miracle. + </p> + <p> + He had managed it with the utmost dexterity at the merry-go-round. With + winning politeness he had assisted Genevieve on her wooden steed, and + then, as the machinery began to work, had grasped Katie's arm and led her + at a rapid walk out into the sunlight. Katie's last glimpse of Genevieve + had been the sight of her amazed and offended face as it whizzed round the + corner, while the steam melodeon drowned protests with a spirited plunge + into 'Alexander's Ragtime Band'. + </p> + <p> + Katie felt shy. This young man was a perfect stranger. It was true she had + had a formal introduction to him, but only from Genevieve, who had scraped + acquaintance with him exactly two minutes previously. It had happened on + the ferry-boat on the way to Palisades Park. Genevieve's bright eye, + roving among the throng on the lower deck, had singled out this young man + and his companion as suitable cavaliers for the expedition. The young man + pleased her, and his friend, with the broken nose and the face like a + good-natured bulldog, was obviously suitable for Katie. + </p> + <p> + Etiquette is not rigid on New York ferry-boats. Without fuss or delay she + proceeded to make their acquaintance—to Katie's concern, for she + could never get used to Genevieve's short way with strangers. The quiet + life she had led had made her almost prudish, and there were times when + Genevieve's conduct shocked her. Of course, she knew there was no harm in + Genevieve. As the latter herself had once put it, 'The feller that tries + to get gay with me is going to get a call-down that'll make him holler for + his winter overcoat.' But all the same she could not approve. And the net + result of her disapproval was to make her shy and silent as she walked by + this young man's side. + </p> + <p> + The young man seemed to divine her thoughts. + </p> + <p> + 'Say, I'm on the level,' he observed. 'You want to get that. Right on the + square. See?' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, yes,' said Katie, relieved but yet embarrassed. It was awkward to + have one's thoughts read like this. + </p> + <p> + 'You ain't like your friend. Don't think I don't see that.' + </p> + <p> + 'Genevieve's a sweet girl,' said Katie, loyally. + </p> + <p> + 'A darned sight too sweet. Somebody ought to tell her mother.' + </p> + <p> + 'Why did you speak to her if you did not like her?' + </p> + <p> + 'Wanted to get to know you,' said the young man simply. + </p> + <p> + They walked on in silence. Katie's heart was beating with a rapidity that + forbade speech. Nothing like this very direct young man had ever happened + to her before. She had grown so accustomed to regarding herself as + something too insignificant and unattractive for the notice of the lordly + male that she was overwhelmed. She had a vague feeling that there was a + mistake somewhere. It surely could not be she who was proving so alluring + to this fairy prince. The novelty of the situation frightened her. + </p> + <p> + 'Come here often?' asked her companion. + </p> + <p> + 'I've never been here before.' + </p> + <p> + 'Often go to Coney?' + </p> + <p> + 'I've never been.' + </p> + <p> + He regarded her with astonishment. + </p> + <p> + 'You've never been to Coney Island! Why, you don't know what this sort of + thing is till you've taken in Coney. This place isn't on the map with + Coney. Do you mean to say you've never seen Luna Park, or Dreamland, or + Steeplechase, or the diving ducks? Haven't you had a look at the Mardi + Gras stunts? Why, Coney during Mardi Gras is the greatest thing on earth. + It's a knockout. Just about a million boys and girls having the best time + that ever was. Say, I guess you don't go out much, do you?' + </p> + <p> + 'Not much.' + </p> + <p> + 'If it's not a rude question, what do you do? I been trying to place you + all along. Now I reckon your friend works in a store, don't she?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes. She's a cloak-model. She has a lovely figure, hasn't she?' + </p> + <p> + 'Didn't notice it. I guess so, if she's what you say. It's what they pay + her for, ain't it? Do you work in a store, too?' + </p> + <p> + 'Not exactly. I keep a little shop.' + </p> + <p> + 'All by yourself?' + </p> + <p> + 'I do all the work now. It was my father's shop, but he's dead. It began + by being my grandfather's. He started it. But he's so old now that, of + course, he can't work any longer, so I look after things.' + </p> + <p> + 'Say, you're a wonder! What sort of a shop?' + </p> + <p> + 'It's only a little second-hand bookshop. There really isn't much to do.' + </p> + <p> + 'Where is it?' + </p> + <p> + 'Sixth Avenue. Near Washington Square.' + </p> + <p> + 'What name?' + </p> + <p> + 'Bennett.' + </p> + <p> + 'That's your name, then?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes.' + </p> + <p> + 'Anything besides Bennett?' + </p> + <p> + 'My name's Kate.' + </p> + <p> + The young man nodded. + </p> + <p> + 'I'd make a pretty good district attorney,' he said, disarming possible + resentment at this cross-examination. 'I guess you're wondering if I'm + ever going to stop asking you questions. Well, what would you like to do?' + </p> + <p> + 'Don't you think we ought to go back and find your friend and Genevieve? + They will be wondering where we are.' + </p> + <p> + 'Let 'em,' said the young man briefly. 'I've had all I want of Jenny.' + </p> + <p> + 'I can't understand why you don't like her.' + </p> + <p> + 'I like you. Shall we have some ice-cream, or would you rather go on the + Scenic Railway?' + </p> + <p> + Katie decided on the more peaceful pleasure. They resumed their walk, + socially licking two cones. Out of the corner of her eyes Katie cast swift + glances at her friend's face. He was a very grave young man. There was + something important as well as handsome about him. Once, as they made + their way through the crowds, she saw a couple of boys look almost + reverently at him. She wondered who he could be, but was too shy to + inquire. She had got over her nervousness to a great extent, but there + were still limits to what she felt herself equal to saying. It did not + strike her that it was only fair that she should ask a few questions in + return for those which he had put. She had always repressed herself, and + she did so now. She was content to be with him without finding out his + name and history. + </p> + <p> + He supplied the former just before he finally consented to let her go. + </p> + <p> + They were standing looking over the river. The sun had spent its force, + and it was cool and pleasant in the breeze which was coming up the Hudson. + Katie was conscious of a vague feeling that was almost melancholy. It had + been a lovely afternoon, and she was sorry that it was over. + </p> + <p> + The young man shuffled his feet on the loose stones. + </p> + <p> + 'I'm mighty glad I met you,' he said. 'Say, I'm coming to see you. On + Sixth Avenue. Don't mind, do you?' + </p> + <p> + He did not wait for a reply. + </p> + <p> + 'Brady's my name. Ted Brady, Glencoe Athletic Club,' he paused. 'I'm on + the level,' he added, and paused again. 'I like you a whole lot. There's + your friend, Genevieve. Better go after her, hadn't you? Good-bye.' And he + was gone, walking swiftly through the crowd about the bandstand. + </p> + <p> + Katie went back to Genevieve, and Genevieve was simply horrid. Cold and + haughty, a beautiful iceberg of dudgeon, she refused to speak a single + word during the whole long journey back to Sixth Avenue. And Katie, whose + tender heart would at other times have been tortured by this hostility, + leant back in her seat, and was happy. Her mind was far away from + Genevieve's frozen gloom, living over again the wonderful happenings of + the afternoon. + </p> + <p> + Yes, it had been a wonderful afternoon, but trouble was waiting for her in + Sixth Avenue. Trouble was never absent for very long from Katie's + unselfish life. Arriving at the little bookshop, she found Mr Murdoch, the + glazier, preparing for departure. Mr Murdoch came in on Mondays, + Wednesdays, and Fridays to play draughts with her grandfather, who was + paralysed from the waist, and unable to leave the house except when Katie + took him for his outing in Washington Square each morning in his + bath-chair. + </p> + <p> + Mr Murdoch welcomed Katie with joy. + </p> + <p> + 'I was wondering whenever you would come back, Katie. I'm afraid the old + man's a little upset.' + </p> + <p> + 'Not ill?' + </p> + <p> + 'Not ill. Upset. And it was my fault, too. Thinking he'd be interested, I + read him a piece from the paper where I seen about these English + Suffragettes, and he just went up in the air. I guess he'll be all right + now you've come back. I was a fool to read it, I reckon. I kind of forgot + for the moment.' + </p> + <p> + 'Please don't worry yourself about it, Mr Murdoch. He'll be all right + soon. I'll go to him.' + </p> + <p> + In the inner room the old man was sitting. His face was flushed, and he + gesticulated from time to time. + </p> + <p> + 'I won't have it,' he cried as Katie entered. 'I tell you I won't have it. + If Parliament can't do anything, I'll send Parliament about its business.' + </p> + <p> + 'Here I am, grandpapa,' said Katie quickly. 'I've had the greatest time. + It was lovely up there. I—' + </p> + <p> + 'I tell you it's got to stop. I've spoken about it before. I won't have + it.' + </p> + <p> + 'I expect they're doing their best. It's your being so far away that makes + it hard for them. But I do think you might write them a very sharp + letter.' + </p> + <p> + 'I will. I will. Get out the paper. Are you ready?' He stopped, and looked + piteously at Katie. 'I don't know what to say. I don't know how to begin.' + </p> + <p> + Katie scribbled a few lines. + </p> + <p> + 'How would this do? "His Majesty informs his Government that he is greatly + surprised and indignant that no notice has been taken of his previous + communications. If this goes on, he will be reluctantly compelled to put + the matter in other hands."' + </p> + <p> + She read it glibly as she had written it. The formula had been a favourite + one of her late father, when roused to fall upon offending patrons of the + bookshop. + </p> + <p> + The old man beamed. His resentment was gone. He was soothed and happy. + </p> + <p> + 'That'll wake 'em up,' he said. 'I won't have these goings on while I'm + king, and if they don't like it, they know what to do. You're a good girl, + Katie.' + </p> + <p> + He chuckled. + </p> + <p> + 'I beat Lord Murdoch five games to nothing,' he said. + </p> + <p> + It was now nearly two years since the morning when old Matthew Bennett had + announced to an audience consisting of Katie and a smoky blue cat, which + had wandered in from Washington Square to take pot-luck, that he was the + King of England. + </p> + <p> + This was a long time for any one delusion of the old man's to last. + Usually they came and went with a rapidity which made it hard for Katie, + for all her tact, to keep abreast of them. She was not likely to forget + the time when he went to bed President Roosevelt and woke up the Prophet + Elijah. It was the only occasion in all the years they had passed together + when she had felt like giving way and indulging in the fit of hysterics + which most girls of her age would have had as a matter of course. + </p> + <p> + She had handled that crisis, and she handled the present one with equal + smoothness. When her grandfather made his announcement, which he did + rather as one stating a generally recognized fact than as if the + information were in any way sensational, she neither screamed nor swooned, + nor did she rush to the neighbours for advice. She merely gave the old man + his breakfast, not forgetting to set aside a suitable portion for the + smoky cat, and then went round to notify Mr Murdoch of what had happened. + </p> + <p> + Mr Murdoch, excellent man, received the news without any fuss or + excitement at all, and promised to look in on Schwartz, the stout + saloon-keeper, who was Mr Bennett's companion and antagonist at draughts + on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, and, as he expressed it, put him + wise. + </p> + <p> + Life ran comfortably in the new groove. Old Mr Bennett continued to play + draughts and pore over his second-hand classics. Every morning he took his + outing in Washington Square where, from his invalid's chair, he surveyed + somnolent Italians and roller-skating children with his old air of kindly + approval. Katie, whom circumstances had taught to be thankful for small + mercies, was perfectly happy in the shadow of the throne. She liked her + work; she liked looking after her grandfather; and now that Ted Brady had + come into her life, she really began to look on herself as an + exceptionally lucky girl, a spoilt favourite of Fortune. + </p> + <p> + For Ted Brady had called, as he said he would, and from the very first he + had made plain in his grave, direct way the objects of his visits. There + was no subtlety about Ted, no finesse. He was as frank as a music-hall + love song. + </p> + <p> + On his first visit, having handed Katie a large bunch of roses with the + stolidity of a messenger boy handing over a parcel, he had proceeded, by + way of establishing his <i>bona fides</i>, to tell her all about himself. + He supplied the facts in no settled order, just as they happened to occur + to him in the long silences with which his speech was punctuated. Small + facts jostled large facts. He spoke of his morals and his fox-terrier in + the same breath. + </p> + <p> + 'I'm on the level. Ask anyone who knows me. They'll tell you that. Say, I + got the cutest little dog you ever seen. Do you like dogs? I've never been + a fellow that's got himself mixed up with girls. I don't like 'em as a + general thing. A fellow's got too much to do keeping himself in training, + if his club expects him to do things. I belong to the Glencoe Athletic. I + ran the hundred yards dash in evens last sports there was. They expect me + to do it at the Glencoe, so I've never got myself mixed up with girls. + Till I seen you that afternoon I reckon I'd hardly looked at a girl, + honest. They didn't seem to kind of make any hit with me. And then I seen + you, and I says to myself, "That's the one." It sort of came over me in a + flash. I fell for you directly I seen you. And I'm on the level. Don't + forget that.' + </p> + <p> + And more in the same strain, leaning on the counter and looking into + Katie's eyes with a devotion that added emphasis to his measured speech. + </p> + <p> + Next day he came again, and kissed her respectfully but firmly, making a + sort of shuffling dive across the counter. Breaking away, he fumbled in + his pocket and produced a ring, which he proceeded to place on her finger + with the serious air which accompanied all his actions. + </p> + <p> + 'That looks pretty good to me,' he said, as he stepped back and eyed it. + </p> + <p> + It struck Katie, when he had gone, how differently different men did + things. Genevieve had often related stories of men who had proposed to + her, and according to Genevieve, they always got excited and emotional, + and sometimes cried. Ted Brady had fitted her with the ring more like a + glover's assistant than anything else, and he had hardly spoken a word + from beginning to end. He had seemed to take her acquiescence for granted. + And yet there had been nothing flat or disappointing about the + proceedings. She had been thrilled throughout. It is to be supposed that + Mr Brady had the force of character which does not require the aid of + speech. + </p> + <p> + It was not till she took the news of her engagement to old Mr Bennett that + it was borne in upon Katie that Fate did not intend to be so wholly + benevolent to her as she supposed. + </p> + <p> + That her grandfather could offer any opposition had not occurred to her as + a possibility. She took his approval for granted. Never, as long as she + could remember, had he been anything but kind to her. And the only + possible objections to marriage from a grandfather's point of view—badness + of character, insufficient means, or inferiority of social position—were + in this case gloriously absent. + </p> + <p> + She could not see how anyone, however hypercritical, could find a flaw in + Ted. His character was spotless. He was comfortably off. And so far from + being in any way inferior socially, it was he who condescended. For Ted, + she had discovered from conversation with Mr Murdoch, the glazier, was no + ordinary young man. He was a celebrity. So much so that for a moment, when + told the news of the engagement, Mr Murdoch, startled out of his usual + tact, had exhibited frank surprise that the great Ted Brady should not + have aimed higher. + </p> + <p> + 'You're sure you've got the name right, Katie?' he had said. 'It's really + Ted Brady? No mistake about the first name? Well-built, good-looking young + chap with brown eyes? Well, this beats me. Not,' he went on hurriedly, + 'that any young fellow mightn't think himself lucky to get a wife like + you, Katie, but Ted Brady! Why, there isn't a girl in this part of the + town, or in Harlem or the Bronx, for that matter, who wouldn't give her + eyes to be in your place. Why, Ted Brady is the big noise. He's the star + of the Glencoe.' + </p> + <p> + 'He told me he belonged to the Glencoe Athletic.' + </p> + <p> + 'Don't you believe it. It belongs to him. Why, the way that boy runs and + jumps is the real limit. There's only Billy Burton, of the Irish-American, + that can touch him. You've certainly got the pick of the bunch, Katie.' + </p> + <p> + He stared at her admiringly, as if for the first time realizing her true + worth. For Mr Murdoch was a great patron of sport. + </p> + <p> + With these facts in her possession Katie had approached the interview with + her grandfather with a good deal of confidence. + </p> + <p> + The old man listened to her recital of Mr Brady's qualities in silence. + Then he shook his head. + </p> + <p> + 'It can't be, Katie. I couldn't have it.' + </p> + <p> + 'Grandpapa!' + </p> + <p> + 'You're forgetting, my dear.' + </p> + <p> + 'Forgetting?' + </p> + <p> + 'Who ever heard of such a thing? The grand-daughter of the King of England + marrying a commoner! It wouldn't do at all.' + </p> + <p> + Consternation, surprise, and misery kept Katie dumb. She had learned in a + hard school to be prepared for sudden blows from the hand of fate, but + this one was so entirely unforeseen that it found her unprepared, and she + was crushed by it. She knew her grandfather's obstinacy too well to argue + against the decision. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, no, not at all,' he repeated. 'Oh, no, it wouldn't do.' + </p> + <p> + Katie said nothing; she was beyond speech. She stood there wide-eyed and + silent among the ruins of her little air-castle. The old man patted her + hand affectionately. He was pleased at her docility. It was the right + attitude, becoming in one of her high rank. + </p> + <p> + 'I am very sorry, my dear, but—oh, no! oh, no! oh, no—' His + voice trailed away into an unintelligible mutter. He was a very old man, + and he was not always able to concentrate his thoughts on a subject for + any length of time. + </p> + <p> + So little did Ted Brady realize at first the true complexity of the + situation that he was inclined, when he heard of the news, to treat the + crisis in the jaunty, dashing, love-laughs-at-locksmith fashion so popular + with young men of spirit when thwarted in their loves by the interference + of parents and guardians. + </p> + <p> + It took Katie some time to convince him that, just because he had the + licence in his pocket, he could not snatch her up on his saddle-bow and + carry her off to the nearest clergyman after the manner of young + Lochinvar. + </p> + <p> + In the first flush of his resentment at restraint he saw no reason why he + should differentiate between old Mr Bennett and the conventional + banns-forbidding father of the novelettes with which he was accustomed to + sweeten his hours of idleness. To him, till Katie explained the + intricacies of the position, Mr Bennett was simply the proud millionaire + who would not hear of his daughter marrying the artist. + </p> + <p> + 'But, Ted, dear, you don't understand,' Katie said. 'We simply couldn't do + that. There's no one but me to look after him, poor old man. How could I + run away like that and get married? What would become of him?' + </p> + <p> + 'You wouldn't be away long,' urged Mr Brady, a man of many parts, but not + a rapid thinker. 'The minister would have us fixed up inside of half an + hour. Then we'd look in at Mouquin's for a steak and fried, just to make a + sort of wedding breakfast. And then back we'd come, hand-in-hand, and say, + "Well, here we are. Now what?"' + </p> + <p> + 'He would never forgive me.' + </p> + <p> + 'That,' said Ted judicially, 'would be up to him.' + </p> + <p> + 'It would kill him. Don't you see, we know that it's all nonsense, this + idea of his; but he really thinks he is the king, and he's so old that the + shock of my disobeying him would be too much. Honest, Ted, dear, I + couldn't.' + </p> + <p> + Gloom unutterable darkened Ted Brady's always serious countenance. The + difficulties of the situation were beginning to come home to him. + </p> + <p> + 'Maybe if I went and saw him—' he suggested at last. + </p> + <p> + 'You <i>could</i>,' said Katie doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + Ted tightened his belt with an air of determination, and bit resolutely on + the chewing-gum which was his inseparable companion. + </p> + <p> + 'I will,' he said. + </p> + <p> + 'You'll be nice to him, Ted?' + </p> + <p> + He nodded. He was the man of action, not words. + </p> + <p> + It was perhaps ten minutes before he came out of the inner room in which + Mr Bennett passed his days. When he did, there was no light of jubilation + on his face. His brow was darker than ever. + </p> + <p> + Katie looked at him anxiously. He returned the look with a sombre shake of + the head. + </p> + <p> + 'Nothing doing,' he said shortly. He paused. 'Unless,' he added, 'you + count it anything that he's made me an earl.' + </p> + <p> + In the next two weeks several brains busied themselves with the situation. + Genevieve, reconciled to Katie after a decent interval of wounded dignity, + said she supposed there was a way out, if one could only think of it, but + it certainly got past her. The only approach to a plan of action was + suggested by the broken-nosed individual who had been Ted's companion that + day at Palisades Park, a gentleman of some eminence in the boxing world, + who rejoiced in the name of the Tennessee Bear-Cat. + </p> + <p> + What they ought to do, in the Bear-Cat's opinion, was to get the old man + out into Washington Square one morning. He of Tennessee would then sasshay + up in a flip manner and make a break. Ted, waiting close by, would resent + his insolence. There would be words, followed by blows. + </p> + <p> + 'See what I mean?' pursued the Bear-Cat. 'There's you and me mixing it. + I'll square the cop on the beat to leave us be; he's a friend of mine. + Pretty soon you land me one on the plexus, and I take th' count. Then + there's you hauling me up by th' collar to the old gentleman, and me + saying I quits and apologizing. See what I mean?' + </p> + <p> + The whole, presumably, to conclude with warm expressions of gratitude and + esteem from Mr Bennett, and an instant withdrawal of the veto. + </p> + <p> + Ted himself approved of the scheme. He said it was a cracker-jaw, and he + wondered how one so notoriously ivory-skulled as the other could have had + such an idea. The Bear-Cat said modestly that he had 'em sometimes. And it + is probable that all would have been well, had it not been necessary to + tell the plan to Katie, who was horrified at the very idea, spoke warmly + of the danger to her grandfather's nervous system, and said she did not + think the Bear-Cat could be a nice friend for Ted. And matters relapsed + into their old state of hopelessness. + </p> + <p> + And then, one day, Katie forced herself to tell Ted that she thought it + would be better if they did not see each other for a time. She said that + these meetings were only a source of pain to both of them. It would really + be better if he did not come round for—well, quite some time. + </p> + <p> + It had not been easy for her to say it. The decision was the outcome of + many wakeful nights. She had asked herself the question whether it was + fair for her to keep Ted chained to her in this hopeless fashion, when, + left to himself and away from her, he might so easily find some other girl + to make him happy. + </p> + <p> + So Ted went, reluctantly, and the little shop on Sixth Avenue knew him no + more. And Katie spent her time looking after old Mr Bennett (who had + completely forgotten the affair by now, and sometimes wondered why Katie + was not so cheerful as she had been), and—for, though unselfish, she + was human—hating those unknown girls whom in her mind's eye she + could see clustering round Ted, smiling at him, making much of him, and + driving the bare recollection of her out of his mind. + </p> + <p> + The summer passed. July came and went, making New York an oven. August + followed, and one wondered why one had complained of July's tepid + advances. + </p> + <p> + It was on the evening of September the eleventh that Katie, having closed + the little shop, sat in the dusk on the steps, as many thousands of her + fellow-townsmen and townswomen were doing, turning her face to the first + breeze which New York had known for two months. The hot spell had broken + abruptly that afternoon, and the city was drinking in the coolness as a + flower drinks water. + </p> + <p> + From round the corner, where the yellow cross of the Judson Hotel shone + down on Washington Square, came the shouts of children, and the strains, + mellowed by distance, of the indefatigable barrel-organ which had played + the same tunes in the same place since the spring. + </p> + <p> + Katie closed her eyes, and listened. It was very peaceful this evening, so + peaceful that for an instant she forgot even to think of Ted. And it was + just during this instant that she heard his voice. + </p> + <p> + 'That you, kid?' + </p> + <p> + He was standing before her, his hands in his pockets, one foot on the + pavement, the other in the road; and if he was agitated, his voice did not + show it. + </p> + <p> + 'Ted!' + </p> + <p> + 'That's me. Can I see the old man for a minute, Katie?' + </p> + <p> + This time it did seem to her that she could detect a slight ring of + excitement. + </p> + <p> + 'It's no use, Ted. Honest.' + </p> + <p> + 'No harm in going in and passing the time of day, is there? I've got + something I want to say to him.' + </p> + <p> + 'What?' + </p> + <p> + 'Tell you later, maybe. Is he in his room?' + </p> + <p> + He stepped past her, and went in. As he went, he caught her arm and + pressed it, but he did not stop. She saw him go into the inner room and + heard through the door as he closed it behind him, the murmur of voices. + And almost immediately, it seemed to her, her name was called. It was her + grandfather's voice which called, high and excited. The door opened, and + Ted appeared. + </p> + <p> + 'Come here a minute, Katie, will you?' he said. 'You're wanted.' + </p> + <p> + The old man was leaning forward in his chair. He was in a state of + extraordinary excitement. He quivered and jumped. Ted, standing by the + wall, looked as stolid as ever; but his eyes glittered. + </p> + <p> + 'Katie,' cried the old man, 'this is a most remarkable piece of news. This + gentleman has just been telling me—extraordinary. He—' + </p> + <p> + He broke off, and looked at Ted, as he had looked at Katie when he had + tried to write the letter to the Parliament of England. + </p> + <p> + Ted's eye, as it met Katie's, was almost defiant. + </p> + <p> + 'I want to marry you,' he said. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, yes,' broke in Mr Bennett, impatiently, 'but—' + </p> + <p> + 'And I'm a king.' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, yes, that's it, that's it, Katie. This gentleman is a king.' + </p> + <p> + Once more Ted's eye met Katie's, and this time there was an imploring look + in it. + </p> + <p> + 'That's right,' he said, slowly. 'I've just been telling your grandfather + I'm the King of Coney Island.' + </p> + <p> + 'That's it. Of Coney Island.' + </p> + <p> + 'So there's no objection now to us getting married, kid—Your Royal + Highness. It's a royal alliance, see?' + </p> + <p> + 'A royal alliance,' echoed Mr Bennett. + </p> + <p> + Out in the street, Ted held Katie's hand, and grinned a little sheepishly. + </p> + <p> + 'You're mighty quiet, kid,' he said. 'It looks as if it don't make much of + a hit with you, the notion of being married to me.' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, Ted! But—' + </p> + <p> + He squeezed her hand. + </p> + <p> + 'I know what you're thinking. I guess it was raw work pulling a tale like + that on the old man. I hated to do it, but gee! when a fellow's up against + it like I was, he's apt to grab most any chance that comes along. Why, + say, kid, it kind of looked to me as if it was sort of <i>meant</i>. + Coming just now, like it did, just when it was wanted, and just when it + didn't seem possible it could happen. Why, a week ago I was nigh on two + hundred votes behind Billy Burton. The Irish-American put him up, and + everybody thought he'd be King at the Mardi Gras. And then suddenly they + came pouring in for me, till at the finish I had Billy looking like a + regular has-been. + </p> + <p> + 'It's funny the way the voting jumps about every year in this Coney + election. It was just Providence, and it didn't seem right to let it go + by. So I went in to the old man, and told him. Say, I tell you I was just + sweating when I got ready to hand it to him. It was an outside chance he'd + remember all about what the Mardi Gras at Coney was, and just what being a + king at it amounted to. Then I remembered you telling me you'd never been + to Coney, so I figured your grandfather wouldn't be what you'd call well + fixed in his information about it, so I took the chance. + </p> + <p> + 'I tried him out first. I tried him with Brooklyn. Why, say, from the way + he took it, he'd either never heard of the place, or else he'd forgotten + what it was. I guess he don't remember much, poor old fellow. Then I + mentioned Yonkers. He asked me what Yonkers were. Then I reckoned it was + safe to bring on Coney, and he fell for it right away. I felt mean, but it + had to be done.' + </p> + <p> + He caught her up, and swung her into the air with a perfectly impassive + face. Then, having kissed her, he lowered her gently to the ground again. + The action seemed to have relieved his feelings, for when he spoke again + it was plain that his conscience no longer troubled him. + </p> + <p> + 'And say,' he said, 'come to think of it, I don't see where there's so + much call for me to feel mean. I'm not so far short of being a regular + king. Coney's just as big as some of those kingdoms you read about on the + other side; and, from what you see in the papers about the goings-on + there, it looks to me that, having a whole week on the throne like I'm + going to have, amounts to a pretty steady job as kings go.' + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + AT GEISENHEIMER'S + </h2> + <p> + As I walked to Geisenheimer's that night I was feeling blue and restless, + tired of New York, tired of dancing, tired of everything. Broadway was + full of people hurrying to the theatres. Cars rattled by. All the electric + lights in the world were blazing down on the Great White Way. And it all + seemed stale and dreary to me. + </p> + <p> + Geisenheimer's was full as usual. All the tables were occupied, and there + were several couples already on the dancing-floor in the centre. The band + was playing 'Michigan': + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>I want to go back, I want to go back + To the place where I was born. + Far away from harm + With a milk-pail on my arm.</i> +</pre> + <p> + I suppose the fellow who wrote that would have called for the police if + anyone had ever really tried to get him on to a farm, but he has certainly + put something into the tune which makes you think he meant what he said. + It's a homesick tune, that. + </p> + <p> + I was just looking round for an empty table, when a man jumped up and came + towards me, registering joy as if I had been his long-lost sister. + </p> + <p> + He was from the country. I could see that. It was written all over him, + from his face to his shoes. + </p> + <p> + He came up with his hand out, beaming. + </p> + <p> + 'Why, Miss Roxborough!' + </p> + <p> + 'Why not?' I said. + </p> + <p> + 'Don't you remember me?' + </p> + <p> + I didn't. + </p> + <p> + 'My name is Ferris.' + </p> + <p> + 'It's a nice name, but it means nothing in my young life.' + </p> + <p> + 'I was introduced to you last time I came here. We danced together.' + </p> + <p> + This seemed to bear the stamp of truth. If he was introduced to me, he + probably danced with me. It's what I'm at Geisenheimer's for. + </p> + <p> + 'When was it?' + </p> + <p> + 'A year ago last April.' + </p> + <p> + You can't beat these rural charmers. They think New York is folded up and + put away in camphor when they leave, and only taken out again when they + pay their next visit. The notion that anything could possibly have + happened since he was last in our midst to blur the memory of that happy + evening had not occurred to Mr Ferris. I suppose he was so accustomed to + dating things from 'when I was in New York' that he thought everybody else + must do the same. + </p> + <p> + 'Why, sure, I remember you,' I said. 'Algernon Clarence, isn't it?' + </p> + <p> + 'Not Algernon Clarence. My name's Charlie.' + </p> + <p> + 'My mistake. And what's the great scheme, Mr Ferris? Do you want to dance + with me again?' + </p> + <p> + He did. So we started. Mine not to reason why, mine but to do and die, as + the poem says. If an elephant had come into Geisenheimer's and asked me to + dance I'd have had to do it. And I'm not saying that Mr Ferris wasn't the + next thing to it. He was one of those earnest, persevering dancers—the + kind that have taken twelve correspondence lessons. + </p> + <p> + I guess I was about due that night to meet someone from the country. There + still come days in the spring when the country seems to get a stranglehold + on me and start in pulling. This particular day had been one of them. I + got up in the morning and looked out of the window, and the breeze just + wrapped me round and began whispering about pigs and chickens. And when I + went out on Fifth Avenue there seemed to be flowers everywhere. I headed + for the Park, and there was the grass all green, and the trees coming out, + and a sort of something in the air—why, say, if there hadn't have + been a big policeman keeping an eye on me, I'd have flung myself down and + bitten chunks out of the turf. + </p> + <p> + And as soon as I got to Geisenheimer's they played that 'Michigan' thing. + </p> + <p> + Why, Charlie from Squeedunk's 'entrance' couldn't have been better worked + up if he'd been a star in a Broadway show. The stage was just waiting for + him. + </p> + <p> + But somebody's always taking the joy out of life. I ought to have + remembered that the most metropolitan thing in the metropolis is a rustic + who's putting in a week there. We weren't thinking on the same plane, + Charlie and me. The way I had been feeling all day, what I wanted to talk + about was last season's crops. The subject he fancied was this season's + chorus-girls. Our souls didn't touch by a mile and a half. + </p> + <p> + 'This is the life!' he said. + </p> + <p> + There's always a point when that sort of man says that. + </p> + <p> + 'I suppose you come here quite a lot?' he said. + </p> + <p> + 'Pretty often.' + </p> + <p> + I didn't tell him that I came there every night, and that I came because I + was paid for it. If you're a professional dancer at Geisenheimer's, you + aren't supposed to advertise the fact. The management thinks that if you + did it might send the public away thinking too hard when they saw you win + the Great Contest for the Love-r-ly Silver Cup which they offer later in + the evening. Say, that Love-r-ly Cup's a joke. I win it on Mondays, + Wednesdays, and Fridays, and Mabel Francis wins it on Tuesdays, Thursdays, + and Saturdays. It's all perfectly fair and square, of course. It's purely + a matter of merit who wins the Love-r-ly Cup. Anybody could win it. Only + somehow they don't. And the coincidence of the fact that Mabel and I + always do has kind of got on the management's nerves, and they don't like + us to tell people we're employed there. They prefer us to blush unseen. + </p> + <p> + 'It's a great place,' said Mr Ferris, 'and New York's a great place. I'd + like to live in New York.' + </p> + <p> + 'The loss is ours. Why don't you?' + </p> + <p> + 'Some city! But dad's dead now, and I've got the drugstore, you know.' + </p> + <p> + He spoke as if I ought to remember reading about it in the papers. + </p> + <p> + 'And I'm making good with it, what's more. I've got push and ideas. Say, I + got married since I saw you last.' + </p> + <p> + 'You did, did you?' I said. 'Then what are you doing, may I ask, dancing + on Broadway like a gay bachelor? I suppose you have left your wife at + Hicks' Corners, singing "Where is my wandering boy tonight"?' + </p> + <p> + 'Not Hicks' Corners. Ashley, Maine. That's where I live. My wife comes + from Rodney.... Pardon me, I'm afraid I stepped on your foot.' + </p> + <p> + 'My fault,' I said; 'I lost step. Well, I wonder you aren't ashamed even + to think of your wife, when you've left her all alone out there while you + come whooping it up in New York. Haven't you got any conscience?' + </p> + <p> + 'But I haven't left her. She's here.' + </p> + <p> + 'In New York?' + </p> + <p> + 'In this restaurant. That's her up there.' + </p> + <p> + I looked up at the balcony. There was a face hanging over the red plush + rail. It looked to me as if it had some hidden sorrow. I'd noticed it + before, when we were dancing around, and I had wondered what the trouble + was. Now I began to see. + </p> + <p> + 'Why aren't you dancing with her and giving her a good time, then?' I + said. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, she's having a good time.' + </p> + <p> + 'She doesn't look it. She looks as if she would like to be down here, + treading the measure.' + </p> + <p> + 'She doesn't dance much.' + </p> + <p> + 'Don't you have dances at Ashley?' + </p> + <p> + 'It's different at home. She dances well enough for Ashley, but—well, + this isn't Ashley.' + </p> + <p> + 'I see. But you're not like that?' + </p> + <p> + He gave a kind of smirk. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, I've been in New York before.' + </p> + <p> + I could have bitten him, the sawn-off little rube! It made me mad. He was + ashamed to dance in public with his wife—didn't think her good + enough for him. So he had dumped her in a chair, given her a lemonade, and + told her to be good, and then gone off to have a good time. They could + have had me arrested for what I was thinking just then. + </p> + <p> + The band began to play something else. + </p> + <p> + 'This is the life!' said Mr Ferris. 'Let's do it again.' + </p> + <p> + 'Let somebody else do it,' I said. 'I'm tired. I'll introduce you to some + friends of mine.' + </p> + <p> + So I took him off, and whisked him on to some girls I knew at one of the + tables. + </p> + <p> + 'Shake hands with my friend Mr Ferris,' I said. 'He wants to show you the + latest steps. He does most of them on your feet.' + </p> + <p> + I could have betted on Charlie, the Debonair Pride of Ashley. Guess what + he said? He said, 'This is the life!' + </p> + <p> + And I left him, and went up to the balcony. + </p> + <p> + She was leaning with her elbows on the red plush, looking down on the + dancing-floor. They had just started another tune, and hubby was moving + around with one of the girls I'd introduced him to. She didn't have to + prove to me that she came from the country. I knew it. She was a little + bit of a thing, old-fashioned looking. She was dressed in grey, with white + muslin collar and cuffs, and her hair done simple. She had a black hat. + </p> + <p> + I kind of hovered for awhile. It isn't the best thing I do, being shy; as + a general thing I'm more or less there with the nerve; but somehow I sort + of hesitated to charge in. + </p> + <p> + Then I braced up, and made for the vacant chair. + </p> + <p> + 'I'll sit here, if you don't mind,' I said. + </p> + <p> + She turned in a startled way. I could see she was wondering who I was, and + what right I had there, but wasn't certain whether it might not be city + etiquette for strangers to come and dump themselves down and start + chatting. 'I've just been dancing with your husband,' I said, to ease + things along. + </p> + <p> + 'I saw you.' + </p> + <p> + She fixed me with a pair of big brown eyes. I took one look at them, and + then I had to tell myself that it might be pleasant, and a relief to my + feelings, to take something solid and heavy and drop it over the rail on + to hubby, but the management wouldn't like it. That was how I felt about + him just then. The poor kid was doing everything with those eyes except + crying. She looked like a dog that's been kicked. + </p> + <p> + She looked away, and fiddled with the string of the electric light. There + was a hatpin lying on the table. She picked it up, and began to dig at the + red plush. + </p> + <p> + 'Ah, come on sis,' I said; 'tell me all about it.' + </p> + <p> + 'I don't know what you mean.' + </p> + <p> + 'You can't fool me. Tell me your troubles.' + </p> + <p> + 'I don't know you.' + </p> + <p> + 'You don't have to know a person to tell her your troubles. I sometimes + tell mine to the cat that camps out on the wall opposite my room. What did + you want to leave the country for, with summer coming on?' + </p> + <p> + She didn't answer, but I could see it coming, so I sat still and waited. + And presently she seemed to make up her mind that, even if it was no + business of mine, it would be a relief to talk about it. + </p> + <p> + 'We're on our honeymoon. Charlie wanted to come to New York. I didn't want + to, but he was set on it. He's been here before.' + </p> + <p> + 'So he told me.' + </p> + <p> + 'He's wild about New York.' + </p> + <p> + 'But you're not.' + </p> + <p> + 'I hate it.' + </p> + <p> + 'Why?' + </p> + <p> + She dug away at the red plush with the hatpin, picking out little bits and + dropping them over the edge. I could see she was bracing herself to put me + wise to the whole trouble. There's a time comes when things aren't going + right, and you've had all you can stand, when you have got to tell + somebody about it, no matter who it is. + </p> + <p> + 'I hate New York,' she said getting it out at last with a rush. 'I'm + scared of it. It—it isn't fair Charlie bringing me here. I didn't + want to come. I knew what would happen. I felt it all along.' + </p> + <p> + 'What do you think will happen, then?' + </p> + <p> + She must have picked away at least an inch of the red plush before she + answered. It's lucky Jimmy, the balcony waiter, didn't see her; it would + have broken his heart; he's as proud of that red plush as if he had paid + for it himself. + </p> + <p> + 'When I first went to live at Rodney,' she said, 'two years ago—we + moved there from Illinois—there was a man there named Tyson—Jack + Tyson. He lived all alone and didn't seem to want to know anyone. I + couldn't understand it till somebody told me all about him. I can + understand it now. Jack Tyson married a Rodney girl, and they came to New + York for their honeymoon, just like us. And when they got there I guess + she got to comparing him with the fellows she saw, and comparing the city + with Rodney, and when she got home she just couldn't settle down.' + </p> + <p> + 'Well?' + </p> + <p> + 'After they had been back in Rodney for a little while she ran away. Back + to the city, I guess.' + </p> + <p> + 'I suppose he got a divorce?' + </p> + <p> + 'No, he didn't. He still thinks she may come back to him.' + </p> + <p> + 'He still thinks she will come back?' I said. 'After she has been away + three years!' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes. He keeps her things just the same as she left them when she went + away, everything just the same.' + </p> + <p> + 'But isn't he angry with her for what she did? If I was a man and a girl + treated me that way, I'd be apt to murder her if she tried to show up + again.' + </p> + <p> + 'He wouldn't. Nor would I, if—if anything like that happened to me; + I'd wait and wait, and go on hoping all the time. And I'd go down to the + station to meet the train every afternoon, just like Jack Tyson.' + </p> + <p> + Something splashed on the tablecloth. It made me jump. + </p> + <p> + 'For goodness' sake,' I said, 'what's your trouble? Brace up. I know it's + a sad story, but it's not your funeral.' + </p> + <p> + 'It is. It is. The same thing's going to happen to me.' + </p> + <p> + 'Take a hold on yourself. Don't cry like that.' + </p> + <p> + 'I can't help it. Oh! I knew it would happen. It's happening right now. + Look—look at him.' + </p> + <p> + I glanced over the rail, and I saw what she meant. There was her Charlie, + dancing about all over the floor as if he had just discovered that he + hadn't lived till then. I saw him say something to the girl he was dancing + with. I wasn't near enough to hear it, but I bet it was 'This is the + life!' If I had been his wife, in the same position as this kid, I guess + I'd have felt as bad as she did, for if ever a man exhibited all the + symptoms of incurable Newyorkitis, it was this Charlie Ferris. + </p> + <p> + 'I'm not like these New York girls,' she choked. 'I can't be smart. I + don't want to be. I just want to live at home and be happy. I knew it + would happen if we came to the city. He doesn't think me good enough for + him. He looks down on me.' + </p> + <p> + 'Pull yourself together.' + </p> + <p> + 'And I do love him so!' + </p> + <p> + Goodness knows what I should have said if I could have thought of anything + to say. But just then the music stopped, and somebody on the floor below + began to speak. + </p> + <p> + 'Ladeez 'n' gemmen,' he said, 'there will now take place our great Numbah + Contest. This gen-u-ine sporting contest—' + </p> + <p> + It was Izzy Baermann making his nightly speech, introducing the Love-r-ly + Cup; and it meant that, for me, duty called. From where I sat I could see + Izzy looking about the room, and I knew he was looking for me. It's the + management's nightmare that one of these evenings Mabel or I won't show + up, and somebody else will get away with the Love-r-ly Cup. + </p> + <p> + 'Sorry I've got to go,' I said. 'I have to be in this.' + </p> + <p> + And then suddenly I had the great idea. It came to me like a flash, I + looked at her, crying there, and I looked over the rail at Charlie the Boy + Wonder, and I knew that this was where I got a stranglehold on my place in + the Hall of Fame, along with the great thinkers of the age. + </p> + <p> + 'Come on,' I said. 'Come along. Stop crying and powder your nose and get a + move on. You're going to dance this.' + </p> + <p> + 'But Charlie doesn't want to dance with me.' + </p> + <p> + 'It may have escaped your notice,' I said, 'but your Charlie is not the + only man in New York, or even in this restaurant. I'm going to dance with + Charlie myself, and I'll introduce you to someone who can go through the + movements. Listen!' + </p> + <p> + 'The lady of each couple'—this was Izzy, getting it off his + diaphragm—'will receive a ticket containing a num-bah. The dance + will then proceed, and the num-bahs will be eliminated one by one, those + called out by the judge kindly returning to their seats as their num-bah + is called. The num-bah finally remaining is the winning num-bah. The + contest is a genuine sporting contest, decided purely by the skill of the + holders of the various num-bahs.' (Izzy stopped blushing at the age of + six.) 'Will ladies now kindly step forward and receive their num-bahs. The + winner, the holder of the num-bah left on the floor when the other + num-bahs have been eliminated' (I could see Izzy getting more and more + uneasy, wondering where on earth I'd got to), 'will receive this Love-r-ly + Silver Cup, presented by the management. Ladies will now kindly step + forward and receive their num-bahs.' + </p> + <p> + I turned to Mrs Charlie. 'There,' I said, 'don't you want to win a + Love-r-ly Silver Cup?' + </p> + <p> + 'But I couldn't.' + </p> + <p> + 'You never know your luck.' + </p> + <p> + 'But it isn't luck. Didn't you hear him say it's a contest decided purely + by skill?' + </p> + <p> + 'Well, try your skill, then.' I felt as if I could have shaken her. 'For + goodness' sake,' I said, 'show a little grit. Aren't you going to stir a + finger to keep your Charlie? Suppose you win, think what it will mean. He + will look up to you for the rest of your life. When he starts talking + about New York, all you will have to say is, "New York? Ah, yes, that was + the town I won that Love-r-ly Silver Cup in, was it not?" and he'll drop + as if you had hit him behind the ear with a sandbag. Pull yourself + together and try.' + </p> + <p> + I saw those brown eyes of hers flash, and she said, 'I'll try.' + </p> + <p> + 'Good for you,' I said. 'Now you get those tears dried, and fix yourself + up, and I'll go down and get the tickets.' + </p> + <p> + Izzy was mighty relieved when I bore down on him. + </p> + <p> + 'Gee!' he said, 'I thought you had run away, or was sick or something. + Here's your ticket.' + </p> + <p> + 'I want two, Izzy. One's for a friend of mine. And I say, Izzy, I'd take + it as a personal favour if you would let her stop on the floor as one of + the last two couples. There's a reason. She's a kid from the country, and + she wants to make a hit.' + </p> + <p> + 'Sure, that'll be all right. Here are the tickets. Yours is thirty-six, + hers is ten.' He lowered his voice. 'Don't go mixing them.' + </p> + <p> + I went back to the balcony. On the way I got hold of Charlie. + </p> + <p> + 'We're dancing this together,' I said. + </p> + <p> + He grinned all across his face. + </p> + <p> + I found Mrs Charlie looking as if she had never shed a tear in her life. + She certainly had pluck, that kid. + </p> + <p> + 'Come on,' I said. 'Stick to your ticket like wax and watch your step.' + </p> + <p> + I guess you've seen these sporting contests at Geisenheimer's. Or, if you + haven't seen them at Geisenheimer's, you've seen them somewhere else. + They're all the same. + </p> + <p> + When we began, the floor was so crowded that there was hardly elbow-room. + Don't tell me there aren't any optimists nowadays. Everyone was looking as + if they were wondering whether to have the Love-r-ly Cup in the + sitting-room or the bedroom. You never saw such a hopeful gang in your + life. + </p> + <p> + Presently Izzy gave tongue. The management expects him to be humorous on + these occasions, so he did his best. + </p> + <p> + 'Num-bahs, seven, eleven, and twenty-one will kindly rejoin their + sorrowing friends.' + </p> + <p> + This gave us a little more elbow-room, and the band started again. + </p> + <p> + A few minutes later, Izzy once more: 'Num-bahs thirteen, sixteen, and + seventeen—good-bye.' + </p> + <p> + Off we went again. + </p> + <p> + 'Num-bah twelve, we hate to part with you, but—back to your table!' + </p> + <p> + A plump girl in a red hat, who had been dancing with a kind smile, as if + she were doing it to amuse the children, left the floor. + </p> + <p> + 'Num-bahs six, fifteen, and twenty, thumbs down!' + </p> + <p> + And pretty soon the only couples left were Charlie and me, Mrs Charlie and + the fellow I'd introduced her to, and a bald-headed man and a girl in a + white hat. He was one of your stick-at-it performers. He had been dancing + all the evening. I had noticed him from the balcony. He looked like a + hard-boiled egg from up there. + </p> + <p> + He was a trier all right, that fellow, and had things been otherwise, so + to speak, I'd have been glad to see him win. But it was not to be. Ah, no! + </p> + <p> + 'Num-bah nineteen, you're getting all flushed. Take a rest.' + </p> + <p> + So there it was, a straight contest between me and Charlie and Mrs Charlie + and her man. Every nerve in my system was tingling with suspense and + excitement, was it not? It was not. + </p> + <p> + Charlie, as I've already hinted, was not a dancer who took much of his + attention off his feet while in action. He was there to do his durnedest, + not to inspect objects of interest by the wayside. The correspondence + college he'd attended doesn't guarantee to teach you to do two things at + once. It won't bind itself to teach you to look round the room while + you're dancing. So Charlie hadn't the least suspicion of the state of the + drama. He was breathing heavily down my neck in a determined sort of way, + with his eyes glued to the floor. All he knew was that the competition had + thinned out a bit, and the honour of Ashley, Maine, was in his hands. + </p> + <p> + You know how the public begins to sit up and take notice when these + dance-contests have been narrowed down to two couples. There are evenings + when I quite forget myself, when I'm one of the last two left in, and get + all excited. There's a sort of hum in the air, and, as you go round the + room, people at the tables start applauding. Why, if you didn't know about + the inner workings of the thing, you'd be all of a twitter. + </p> + <p> + It didn't take my practised ear long to discover that it wasn't me and + Charlie that the great public was cheering for. We would go round the + floor without getting a hand, and every time Mrs Charlie and her guy got + to a corner there was a noise like election night. She sure had made a + hit. + </p> + <p> + I took a look at her across the floor, and I didn't wonder. She was a + different kid from what she'd been upstairs. I never saw anybody look so + happy and pleased with herself. Her eyes were like lamps, and her cheeks + all pink, and she was going at it like a champion. I knew what had made a + hit with the people. It was the look of her. She made you think of fresh + milk and new-laid eggs and birds singing. To see her was like getting away + to the country in August. It's funny about people who live in the city. + They chuck out their chests, and talk about little old New York being good + enough for them, and there's a street in heaven they call Broadway, and + all the rest of it; but it seems to me that what they really live for is + that three weeks in the summer when they get away into the country. I knew + exactly why they were cheering so hard for Mrs Charlie. She made them + think of their holidays which were coming along, when they would go and + board at the farm and drink out of the old oaken bucket, and call the cows + by their first names. + </p> + <p> + Gee! I felt just like that myself. All day the country had been tugging at + me, and now it tugged worse than ever. + </p> + <p> + I could have smelled the new-mown hay if it wasn't that when you're in + Geisenheimer's you have to smell Geisenheimer's, because it leaves no + chance for competition. + </p> + <p> + 'Keep working,' I said to Charlie. 'It looks to me as if we are going back + in the betting.' + </p> + <p> + 'Uh, huh!' he says, too busy to blink. + </p> + <p> + 'Do some of those fancy steps of yours. We need them in our business.' + </p> + <p> + And the way that boy worked—it was astonishing! + </p> + <p> + Out of the corner of my eye I could see Izzy Baermann, and he wasn't + looking happy. He was nerving himself for one of those quick referee's + decisions—the sort you make and then duck under the ropes, and run + five miles, to avoid the incensed populace. It was this kind of thing + happening every now and then that prevented his job being perfect. Mabel + Francis told me that one night when Izzy declared her the winner of the + great sporting contest, it was such raw work that she thought there'd have + been a riot. It looked pretty much as if he was afraid the same thing was + going to happen now. There wasn't a doubt which of us two couples was the + one that the customers wanted to see win that Love-r-ly Silver Cup. It was + a walk-over for Mrs Charlie, and Charlie and I were simply among those + present. + </p> + <p> + But Izzy had his duty to do, and drew a salary for doing it, so he + moistened his lips, looked round to see that his strategic railways + weren't blocked, swallowed twice, and said in a husky voice: + </p> + <p> + 'Num-bah ten, please re-tiah!' + </p> + <p> + I stopped at once. + </p> + <p> + 'Come along,' said I to Charlie. 'That's our exit cue.' + </p> + <p> + And we walked off the floor amidst applause. + </p> + <p> + 'Well,' says Charlie, taking out his handkerchief and attending to his + brow, which was like the village blacksmith's, 'we didn't do so bad, did + we? We didn't do so bad, I guess! We—' + </p> + <p> + And he looked up at the balcony, expecting to see the dear little wife, + draped over the rail, worshipping him; when, just as his eye is moving up, + it gets caught by the sight of her a whole heap lower down than he had + expected—on the floor, in fact. + </p> + <p> + She wasn't doing much in the worshipping line just at that moment. She was + too busy. + </p> + <p> + It was a regular triumphal progress for the kid. She and her partner were + doing one or two rounds now for exhibition purposes, like the winning + couple always do at Geisenheimer's, and the room was fairly rising at + them. You'd have thought from the way they were clapping that they had + been betting all their spare cash on her. + </p> + <p> + Charlie gets her well focused, then he lets his jaw drop, till he pretty + near bumped it against the floor. + </p> + <p> + 'But—but—but—' he begins. + </p> + <p> + 'I know,' I said. 'It begins to look as if she could dance well enough for + the city after all. It begins to look as if she had sort of put one over + on somebody, don't it? It begins to look as if it were a pity you didn't + think of dancing with her yourself.' + </p> + <h3> + 'I—I—I—' + </h3> + <p> + 'You come along and have a nice cold drink,' I said, 'and you'll soon pick + up.' + </p> + <p> + He tottered after me to a table, looking as if he had been hit by a + street-car. He had got his. + </p> + <p> + I was so busy looking after Charlie, flapping the towel and working on him + with the oxygen, that, if you'll believe me, it wasn't for quite a time + that I thought of glancing around to see how the thing had struck Izzy + Baermann. + </p> + <p> + If you can imagine a fond father whose only son has hit him with a brick, + jumped on his stomach, and then gone off with all his money, you have a + pretty good notion of how poor old Izzy looked. He was staring at me + across the room, and talking to himself and jerking his hands about. + Whether he thought he was talking to me, or whether he was rehearsing the + scene where he broke it to the boss that a mere stranger had got away with + his Love-r-ly Silver Cup, I don't know. Whichever it was, he was being + mighty eloquent. + </p> + <p> + I gave him a nod, as much as to say that it would all come right in the + future, and then I turned to Charlie again. He was beginning to pick up. + </p> + <p> + 'She won the cup!' he said in a dazed voice, looking at me as if I could + do something about it. + </p> + <p> + 'You bet she did!' + </p> + <p> + 'But—well, what do you know about that?' + </p> + <p> + I saw that the moment had come to put it straight to him. 'I'll tell you + what I know about it,' I said. 'If you take my advice, you'll hustle that + kid straight back to Ashley—or wherever it is that you said you + poison the natives by making up the wrong prescriptions—before she + gets New York into her system. When I was talking to her upstairs, she was + telling me about a fellow in her village who got it in the neck just the + same as you're apt to do.' + </p> + <p> + He started. 'She was telling you about Jack Tyson?' + </p> + <p> + 'That was his name—Jack Tyson. He lost his wife through letting her + have too much New York. Don't you think it's funny she should have + mentioned him if she hadn't had some idea that she might act just the same + as his wife did?' + </p> + <p> + He turned quite green. + </p> + <p> + 'You don't think she would do that?' + </p> + <p> + 'Well, if you'd heard her—She couldn't talk of anything except this + Tyson, and what his wife did to him. She talked of it sort of sad, kind of + regretful, as if she was sorry, but felt that it had to be. I could see + she had been thinking about it a whole lot.' + </p> + <p> + Charlie stiffened in his seat, and then began to melt with pure fright. He + took up his empty glass with a shaking hand and drank a long drink out of + it. It didn't take much observation to see that he had had the jolt he + wanted, and was going to be a whole heap less jaunty and metropolitan from + now on. In fact, the way he looked, I should say he had finished with + metropolitan jauntiness for the rest of his life. + </p> + <p> + 'I'll take her home tomorrow,' he said. 'But—will she come?' + </p> + <p> + 'That's up to you. If you can persuade her—Here she is now. I should + start at once.' + </p> + <p> + Mrs Charlie, carrying the cup, came to the table. I was wondering what + would be the first thing she would say. If it had been Charlie, of course + he'd have said, 'This is the life!' but I looked for something snappier + from her. If I had been in her place there were at least ten things I + could have thought of to say, each nastier than the other. + </p> + <p> + She sat down and put the cup on the table. Then she gave the cup a long + look. Then she drew a deep breath. Then she looked at Charlie. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, Charlie, dear,' she said, 'I do wish I'd been dancing with you!' + </p> + <p> + Well, I'm not sure that that wasn't just as good as anything I would have + said. Charlie got right off the mark. After what I had told him, he wasn't + wasting any time. + </p> + <p> + 'Darling,' he said, humbly, 'you're a wonder! What will they say about + this at home?' He did pause here for a moment, for it took nerve to say + it; but then he went right on. 'Mary, how would it be if we went home + right away—first train tomorrow, and showed it to them?' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, Charlie!' she said. + </p> + <p> + His face lit up as if somebody had pulled a switch. + </p> + <p> + 'You will? You don't want to stop on? You aren't wild about New York?' + </p> + <p> + 'If there was a train,' she said, 'I'd start tonight. But I thought you + loved the city so, Charlie?' + </p> + <p> + He gave a kind of shiver. 'I never want to see it again in my life!' he + said. + </p> + <p> + 'You'll excuse me,' I said, getting up, 'I think there's a friend of mine + wants to speak to me.' + </p> + <p> + And I crossed over to where Izzy had been standing for the last five + minutes, making signals to me with his eyebrows. + </p> + <p> + You couldn't have called Izzy coherent at first. He certainly had trouble + with his vocal chords, poor fellow. There was one of those African + explorer men used to come to Geisenheimer's a lot when he was home from + roaming the trackless desert, and he used to tell me about tribes he had + met who didn't use real words at all, but talked to one another in clicks + and gurgles. He imitated some of their chatter one night to amuse me, and, + believe me, Izzy Baermann started talking the same language now. Only he + didn't do it to amuse me. + </p> + <p> + He was like one of those gramophone records when it's getting into its + stride. + </p> + <p> + 'Be calm, Isadore,' I said. 'Something is troubling you. Tell me all about + it.' + </p> + <p> + He clicked some more, and then he got it out. + </p> + <p> + 'Say, are you crazy? What did you do it for? Didn't I tell you as plain as + I could; didn't I say it twenty times, when you came for the tickets, that + yours was thirty-six?' + </p> + <p> + 'Didn't you say my friend's was thirty-six?' + </p> + <p> + 'Are you deaf? I said hers was ten.' + </p> + <p> + 'Then,' I said handsomely, 'say no more. The mistake was mine. It begins + to look as if I must have got them mixed.' + </p> + <p> + He did a few Swedish exercises. + </p> + <p> + 'Say no more? That's good! That's great! You've got nerve. I'll say that.' + </p> + <p> + 'It was a lucky mistake, Izzy. It saved your life. The people would have + lynched you if you had given me the cup. They were solid for her.' + </p> + <p> + 'What's the boss going to say when I tell him?' + </p> + <p> + 'Never mind what the boss will say. Haven't you any romance in your + system, Izzy? Look at those two sitting there with their heads together. + Isn't it worth a silver cup to have made them happy for life? They are on + their honeymoon, Isadore. Tell the boss exactly how it happened, and say + that I thought it was up to Geisenheimer's to give them a + wedding-present.' + </p> + <p> + He clicked for a spell. + </p> + <p> + 'Ah!' he said. 'Ah! now you've done it! Now you've given yourself away! + You did it on purpose. You mixed those tickets on purpose. I thought as + much. Say, who do you think you are, doing this sort of thing? Don't you + know that professional dancers are three for ten cents? I could go out + right now and whistle, and get a dozen girls for your job. The boss'll + sack you just one minute after I tell him.' + </p> + <p> + 'No, he won't, Izzy, because I'm going to resign.' + </p> + <p> + 'You'd better!' + </p> + <p> + 'That's what I think. I'm sick of this place, Izzy. I'm sick of dancing. + I'm sick of New York. I'm sick of everything. I'm going back to the + country. I thought I had got the pigs and chickens clear out of my system, + but I hadn't. I've suspected it for a long, long time, and tonight I know + it. Tell the boss, with my love, that I'm sorry, but it had to be done. + And if he wants to talk back, he must do it by letter: Mrs John Tyson, + Rodney, Maine, is the address.' + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE MAKING OF MAC'S + </h2> + <p> + Mac's Restaurant—nobody calls it MacFarland's—is a mystery. It + is off the beaten track. It is not smart. It does not advertise. It + provides nothing nearer to an orchestra than a solitary piano, yet, with + all these things against it, it is a success. In theatrical circles + especially it holds a position which might turn the white lights of many a + supper-palace green with envy. + </p> + <p> + This is mysterious. You do not expect Soho to compete with and even + eclipse Piccadilly in this way. And when Soho does so compete, there is + generally romance of some kind somewhere in the background. + </p> + <p> + Somebody happened to mention to me casually that Henry, the old waiter, + had been at Mac's since its foundation. + </p> + <p> + 'Me?' said Henry, questioned during a slack spell in the afternoon. + 'Rather!' + </p> + <p> + 'Then can you tell me what it was that first gave the place the impetus + which started it on its upward course? What causes should you say were + responsible for its phenomenal prosperity? What—' + </p> + <p> + 'What gave it a leg-up? Is that what you're trying to get at?' + </p> + <p> + 'Exactly. What gave it a leg-up? Can you tell me?' + </p> + <p> + 'Me?' said Henry. 'Rather!' + </p> + <p> + And he told me this chapter from the unwritten history of the London whose + day begins when Nature's finishes. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + Old Mr MacFarland (<i>said Henry</i>) started the place fifteen years ago. + He was a widower with one son and what you might call half a daughter. + That's to say, he had adopted her. Katie was her name, and she was the + child of a dead friend of his. The son's name was Andy. A little freckled + nipper he was when I first knew him—one of those silent kids that + don't say much and have as much obstinacy in them as if they were mules. + Many's the time, in them days, I've clumped him on the head and told him + to do something; and he didn't run yelling to his pa, same as most kids + would have done, but just said nothing and went on not doing whatever it + was I had told him to do. That was the sort of disposition Andy had, and + it grew on him. Why, when he came back from Oxford College the time the + old man sent for him—what I'm going to tell you about soon—he + had a jaw on him like the ram of a battleship. Katie was the kid for my + money. I liked Katie. We all liked Katie. + </p> + <p> + Old MacFarland started out with two big advantages. One was Jules, and the + other was me. Jules came from Paris, and he was the greatest cook you ever + seen. And me—well, I was just come from ten years as waiter at the + Guelph, and I won't conceal it from you that I gave the place a tone. I + gave Soho something to think about over its chop, believe me. It was a + come-down in the world for me, maybe, after the Guelph, but what I said to + myself was that, when you get a tip in Soho, it may be only tuppence, but + you keep it; whereas at the Guelph about ninety-nine hundredths of it goes + to helping to maintain some blooming head waiter in the style to which he + has been accustomed. It was through my kind of harping on that fact that + me and the Guelph parted company. The head waiter complained to the + management the day I called him a fat-headed vampire. + </p> + <p> + Well, what with me and what with Jules, MacFarland's—it wasn't Mac's + in them days—began to get a move on. Old MacFarland, who knew a good + man when he saw one and always treated me more like a brother than + anything else, used to say to me, 'Henry, if this keeps up, I'll be able + to send the boy to Oxford College'; until one day he changed it to, + 'Henry, I'm going to send the boy to Oxford College'; and next year, sure + enough, off he went. + </p> + <p> + Katie was sixteen then, and she had just been given the cashier job, as a + treat. She wanted to do something to help the old man, so he put her on a + high chair behind a wire cage with a hole in it, and she gave the + customers their change. And let me tell you, mister, that a man that + wasn't satisfied after he'd had me serve him a dinner cooked by Jules and + then had a chat with Katie through the wire cage would have groused at + Paradise. For she was pretty, was Katie, and getting prettier every day. I + spoke to the boss about it. I said it was putting temptation in the girl's + way to set her up there right in the public eye, as it were. And he told + me to hop it. So I hopped it. + </p> + <p> + Katie was wild about dancing. Nobody knew it till later, but all this + while, it turned out, she was attending regular one of them schools. That + was where she went to in the afternoons, when we all thought she was + visiting girl friends. It all come out after, but she fooled us then. + Girls are like monkeys when it comes to artfulness. She called me Uncle + Bill, because she said the name Henry always reminded her of cold mutton. + If it had been young Andy that had said it I'd have clumped him one; but + he never said anything like that. Come to think of it, he never said + anything much at all. He just thought a heap without opening his face. + </p> + <p> + So young Andy went off to college, and I said to him, 'Now then, you young + devil, you be a credit to us, or I'll fetch you a clip when you come + home.' And Katie said, 'Oh, Andy, I <i>shall</i> miss you.' And Andy + didn't say nothing to me, and he didn't say nothing to Katie, but he gave + her a look, and later in the day I found her crying, and she said she'd + got toothache, and I went round the corner to the chemist's and brought + her something for it. + </p> + <p> + It was in the middle of Andy's second year at college that the old man had + the stroke which put him out of business. He went down under it as if he'd + been hit with an axe, and the doctor tells him he'll never be able to + leave his bed again. + </p> + <p> + So they sent for Andy, and he quit his college, and come back to London to + look after the restaurant. + </p> + <p> + I was sorry for the kid. I told him so in a fatherly kind of way. And he + just looked at me and says, 'Thanks very much, Henry.' + </p> + <p> + 'What must be must be,' I says. 'Maybe, it's all for the best. Maybe it's + better you're here than in among all those young devils in your Oxford + school what might be leading you astray.' + </p> + <p> + 'If you would think less of me and more of your work, Henry,' he says, + 'perhaps that gentleman over there wouldn't have to shout sixteen times + for the waiter.' + </p> + <p> + Which, on looking into it, I found to be the case, and he went away + without giving me no tip, which shows what you lose in a hard world by + being sympathetic. + </p> + <p> + I'm bound to say that young Andy showed us all jolly quick that he hadn't + come home just to be an ornament about the place. There was exactly one + boss in the restaurant, and it was him. It come a little hard at first to + have to be respectful to a kid whose head you had spent many a happy hour + clumping for his own good in the past; but he pretty soon showed me I + could do it if I tried, and I done it. As for Jules and the two young + fellers that had been taken on to help me owing to increase of business, + they would jump through hoops and roll over if he just looked at them. He + was a boy who liked his own way, was Andy, and, believe me, at + MacFarland's Restaurant he got it. + </p> + <p> + And then, when things had settled down into a steady jog, Katie took the + bit in her teeth. + </p> + <p> + She done it quite quiet and unexpected one afternoon when there was only + me and her and Andy in the place. And I don't think either of them knew I + was there, for I was taking an easy on a chair at the back, reading an + evening paper. + </p> + <p> + She said, kind of quiet, 'Oh, Andy.' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, darling,' he said. + </p> + <p> + And that was the first I knew that there was anything between them. + </p> + <p> + 'Andy, I've something to tell you.' + </p> + <p> + 'What is it?' + </p> + <p> + She kind of hesitated. + </p> + <p> + 'Andy, dear, I shan't be able to help any more in the restaurant.' + </p> + <p> + He looked at her, sort of surprised. + </p> + <p> + 'What do you mean?' + </p> + <p> + 'I'm—I'm going on the stage.' + </p> + <p> + I put down my paper. What do you mean? Did I listen? Of course I listened. + What do you take me for? + </p> + <p> + From where I sat I could see young Andy's face, and I didn't need any more + to tell me there was going to be trouble. That jaw of his was right out. I + forgot to tell you that the old man had died, poor old feller, maybe six + months before, so that now Andy was the real boss instead of just acting + boss; and what's more, in the nature of things, he was, in a manner of + speaking, Katie's guardian, with power to tell her what she could do and + what she couldn't. And I felt that Katie wasn't going to have any smooth + passage with this stage business which she was giving him. Andy didn't + hold with the stage—not with any girl he was fond of being on it + anyway. And when Andy didn't like a thing he said so. + </p> + <p> + He said so now. + </p> + <p> + 'You aren't going to do anything of the sort.' + </p> + <p> + 'Don't be horrid about it, Andy dear. I've got a big chance. Why should + you be horrid about it?' + </p> + <p> + 'I'm not going to argue about it. You don't go.' + </p> + <p> + 'But it's such a big chance. And I've been working for it for years.' + </p> + <p> + 'How do you mean working for it?' + </p> + <p> + And then it came out about this dancing-school she'd been attending + regular. + </p> + <p> + When she'd finished telling him about it, he just shoved out his jaw + another inch. + </p> + <p> + 'You aren't going on the stage.' + </p> + <p> + 'But it's such a chance. I saw Mr Mandelbaum yesterday, and he saw me + dance, and he was very pleased, and said he would give me a solo dance to + do in this new piece he's putting on.' + </p> + <p> + 'You aren't going on the stage.' + </p> + <p> + What I always say is, you can't beat tact. If you're smooth and tactful + you can get folks to do anything you want; but if you just shove your jaw + out at them, and order them about, why, then they get their backs up and + sauce you. I knew Katie well enough to know that she would do anything for + Andy, if he asked her properly; but she wasn't going to stand this sort of + thing. But you couldn't drive that into the head of a feller like young + Andy with a steam-hammer. + </p> + <p> + She flared up, quick, as if she couldn't hold herself in no longer. + </p> + <p> + 'I certainly am,' she said. + </p> + <p> + 'You know what it means?' + </p> + <p> + 'What does it mean?' + </p> + <p> + 'The end of—everything.' + </p> + <p> + She kind of blinked as if he'd hit her, then she chucks her chin up. + </p> + <p> + 'Very well,' she says. 'Good-bye.' + </p> + <p> + 'Good-bye,' says Andy, the pig-headed young mule; and she walks out one + way and he walks out another. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + I don't follow the drama much as a general rule, but seeing that it was + now, so to speak, in the family, I did keep an eye open for the newspaper + notices of 'The Rose Girl', which was the name of the piece which Mr + Mandelbaum was letting Katie do a solo dance in; and while some of them + cussed the play considerable, they all gave Katie a nice word. One feller + said that she was like cold water on the morning after, which is high + praise coming from a newspaper man. + </p> + <p> + There wasn't a doubt about it. She was a success. You see, she was + something new, and London always sits up and takes notice when you give it + that. + </p> + <p> + There were pictures of her in the papers, and one evening paper had a + piece about 'How I Preserve My Youth' signed by her. I cut it out and + showed it to Andy. + </p> + <p> + He gave it a look. Then he gave me a look, and I didn't like his eye. + </p> + <p> + 'Well?' he says. + </p> + <p> + 'Pardon,' I says. + </p> + <p> + 'What about it?' he says. + </p> + <p> + 'I don't know,' I says. + </p> + <p> + 'Get back to your work,' he says. + </p> + <p> + So I got back. + </p> + <p> + It was that same night that the queer thing happened. + </p> + <p> + We didn't do much in the supper line at MacFarland's as a rule in them + days, but we kept open, of course, in case Soho should take it into its + head to treat itself to a welsh rabbit before going to bed; so all hands + was on deck, ready for the call if it should come, at half past eleven + that night; but we weren't what you might term sanguine. + </p> + <p> + Well, just on the half-hour, up drives a taxicab, and in comes a party of + four. There was a nut, another nut, a girl, and another girl. And the + second girl was Katie. + </p> + <p> + 'Hallo, Uncle Bill!' she says. + </p> + <p> + 'Good evening, madam,' I says dignified, being on duty. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, stop it, Uncle Bill,' she says. 'Say "Hallo!" to a pal, and smile + prettily, or I'll tell them about the time you went to the White City.' + </p> + <p> + Well, there's some bygones that are best left bygones, and the night at + the White City what she was alluding to was one of them. I still maintain, + as I always shall maintain, that the constable had no right to—but, + there, it's a story that wouldn't interest you. And, anyway, I was glad to + see Katie again, so I give her a smile. + </p> + <p> + 'Not so much of it,' I says. 'Not so much of it. I'm glad to see you, + Katie.' + </p> + <p> + 'Three cheers! Jimmy, I want to introduce you to my friend, Uncle Bill. + Ted, this is Uncle Bill. Violet, this is Uncle Bill.' + </p> + <p> + It wasn't my place to fetch her one on the side of the head, but I'd of + liked to have; for she was acting like she'd never used to act when I knew + her—all tough and bold. Then it come to me that she was nervous. And + natural, too, seeing young Andy might pop out any moment. + </p> + <p> + And sure enough out he popped from the back room at that very instant. + Katie looked at him, and he looked at Katie, and I seen his face get kind + of hard; but he didn't say a word. And presently he went out again. + </p> + <p> + I heard Katie breathe sort of deep. + </p> + <p> + 'He's looking well, Uncle Bill, ain't he?' she says to me, very soft. + </p> + <p> + 'Pretty fair,' I says. 'Well, kid, I been reading the pieces in the + papers. You've knocked 'em.' + </p> + <p> + 'Ah, don't Bill,' she says, as if I'd hurt her. And me meaning only to say + the civil thing. Girls are rum. + </p> + <p> + When the party had paid their bill and give me a tip which made me think I + was back at the Guelph again—only there weren't any Dick Turpin of a + head waiter standing by for his share—they hopped it. But Katie hung + back and had a word with me. + </p> + <p> + 'He <i>was</i> looking well, wasn't he, Uncle Bill?' + </p> + <p> + 'Rather!' + </p> + <p> + 'Does—does he ever speak of me?' + </p> + <p> + 'I ain't heard him.' + </p> + <p> + 'I suppose he's still pretty angry with me, isn't he, Uncle Bill? You're + sure you've never heard him speak of me?' + </p> + <p> + So, to cheer her up, I tells her about the piece in the paper I showed + him; but it didn't seem to cheer her up any. And she goes out. + </p> + <p> + The very next night in she come again for supper, but with different nuts + and different girls. There was six of them this time, counting her. And + they'd hardly sat down at their table, when in come the fellers she had + called Jimmy and Ted with two girls. And they sat eating of their suppers + and chaffing one another across the floor, all as pleasant and sociable as + you please. + </p> + <p> + 'I say, Katie,' I heard one of the nuts say, 'you were right. He's worth + the price of admission.' + </p> + <p> + I don't know who they meant, but they all laughed. And every now and again + I'd hear them praising the food, which I don't wonder at, for Jules had + certainly done himself proud. All artistic temperament, these Frenchmen + are. The moment I told him we had company, so to speak, he blossomed like + a flower does when you put it in water. + </p> + <p> + 'Ah, see, at last!' he says, trying to grab me and kiss me. 'Our fame has + gone abroad in the world which amuses himself, ain't it? For a good supper + connexion I have always prayed, and he has arrived.' + </p> + <p> + Well, it did begin to look as if he was right. Ten high-class supper-folk + in an evening was pretty hot stuff for MacFarland's. I'm bound to say I + got excited myself. I can't deny that I missed the Guelph at times. + </p> + <p> + On the fifth night, when the place was fairly packed and looked for all + the world like Oddy's or Romano's, and me and the two young fellers + helping me was working double tides, I suddenly understood, and I went up + to Katie and, bending over her very respectful with a bottle, I whispers, + 'Hot stuff, kid. This is a jolly fine boom you're working for the old + place.' And by the way she smiled back at me, I seen I had guessed right. + </p> + <p> + Andy was hanging round, keeping an eye on things, as he always done, and I + says to him, when I was passing, 'She's doing us proud, bucking up the old + place, ain't she?' And he says, 'Get on with your work.' And I got on. + </p> + <p> + Katie hung back at the door, when she was on her way out, and had a word + with me. + </p> + <p> + 'Has he said anything about me, Uncle Bill?' + </p> + <p> + 'Not a word,' I says. + </p> + <p> + And she goes out. + </p> + <p> + You've probably noticed about London, mister, that a flock of sheep isn't + in it with the nuts, the way they all troop on each other's heels to + supper-places. One month they're all going to one place, next month to + another. Someone in the push starts the cry that he's found a new place, + and off they all go to try it. The trouble with most of the places is that + once they've got the custom they think it's going to keep on coming and + all they've got to do is to lean back and watch it come. Popularity comes + in at the door, and good food and good service flies out at the window. We + wasn't going to have any of that at MacFarland's. Even if it hadn't been + that Andy would have come down like half a ton of bricks on the first sign + of slackness, Jules and me both of us had our professional reputations to + keep up. I didn't give myself no airs when I seen things coming our way. I + worked all the harder, and I seen to it that the four young fellers under + me—there was four now—didn't lose no time fetching of the + orders. + </p> + <p> + The consequence was that the difference between us and most popular + restaurants was that we kept our popularity. We fed them well, and we + served them well; and once the thing had started rolling it didn't stop. + Soho isn't so very far away from the centre of things, when you come to + look at it, and they didn't mind the extra step, seeing that there was + something good at the end of it. So we got our popularity, and we kept our + popularity; and we've got it to this day. That's how MacFarland's came to + be what it is, mister. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + With the air of one who has told a well-rounded tale, Henry ceased, and + observed that it was wonderful the way Mr Woodward, of Chelsea, preserved + his skill in spite of his advanced years. + </p> + <p> + I stared at him. + </p> + <p> + 'But, heavens, man!' I cried, 'you surely don't think you've finished? + What about Katie and Andy? What happened to them? Did they ever come + together again?' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, ah,' said Henry, 'I was forgetting!' + </p> + <p> + And he resumed. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + As time went on, I begin to get pretty fed up with young Andy. He was + making a fortune as fast as any feller could out of the sudden boom in the + supper-custom, and he knowing perfectly well that if it hadn't of been for + Katie there wouldn't of been any supper-custom at all; and you'd of + thought that anyone claiming to be a human being would have had the + gratitood to forgive and forget and go over and say a civil word to Katie + when she come in. But no, he just hung round looking black at all of them; + and one night he goes and fairly does it. + </p> + <p> + The place was full that night, and Katie was there, and the piano going, + and everybody enjoying themselves, when the young feller at the piano + struck up the tune what Katie danced to in the show. Catchy tune it was. + 'Lum-tum-tum, tiddle-iddle-um.' Something like that it went. Well, the + young feller struck up with it, and everybody begin clapping and hammering + on the tables and hollering to Katie to get up and dance; which she done, + in an open space in the middle, and she hadn't hardly started when along + come young Andy. + </p> + <p> + He goes up to her, all jaw, and I seen something that wanted dusting on + the table next to 'em, so I went up and began dusting it, so by good luck + I happened to hear the whole thing. + </p> + <p> + He says to her, very quiet, 'You can't do that here. What do you think + this place is?' + </p> + <p> + And she says to him, 'Oh, Andy!' + </p> + <p> + 'I'm very much obliged to you,' he says, 'for all the trouble you seem to + be taking, but it isn't necessary. MacFarland's got on very well before + your well-meant efforts to turn it into a bear-garden.' + </p> + <p> + And him coining the money from the supper-custom! Sometimes I think + gratitood's a thing of the past and this world not fit for a + self-respecting rattlesnake to live in. + </p> + <p> + 'Andy!' she says. + </p> + <p> + 'That's all. We needn't argue about it. If you want to come here and have + supper, I can't stop you. But I'm not going to have the place turned into + a night-club.' + </p> + <p> + I don't know when I've heard anything like it. If it hadn't of been that I + hadn't of got the nerve, I'd have give him a look. + </p> + <p> + Katie didn't say another word, but just went back to her table. + </p> + <p> + But the episode, as they say, wasn't conclooded. As soon as the party she + was with seen that she was through dancing, they begin to kick up a row; + and one young nut with about an inch and a quarter of forehead and the + same amount of chin kicked it up especial. + </p> + <p> + 'No, I say! I say, you know!' he hollered. 'That's too bad, you know. + Encore! Don't stop. Encore!' + </p> + <p> + Andy goes up to him. + </p> + <p> + 'I must ask you, please, not to make so much noise,' he says, quite + respectful. 'You are disturbing people.' + </p> + <p> + 'Disturbing be damned! Why shouldn't she—' + </p> + <p> + 'One moment. You can make all the noise you please out in the street, but + as long as you stay in here you'll be quiet. Do you understand?' + </p> + <p> + Up jumps the nut. He'd had quite enough to drink. I know, because I'd been + serving him. + </p> + <p> + 'Who the devil are you?' he says. + </p> + <p> + 'Sit down,' says Andy. + </p> + <p> + And the young feller took a smack at him. And the next moment Andy had him + by the collar and was chucking him out in a way that would have done + credit to a real professional down Whitechapel way. He dumped him on the + pavement as neat as you please. + </p> + <p> + That broke up the party. + </p> + <p> + You can never tell with restaurants. What kills one makes another. I've no + doubt that if we had chucked out a good customer from the Guelph that + would have been the end of the place. But it only seemed to do + MacFarland's good. I guess it gave just that touch to the place which made + the nuts think that this was real Bohemia. Come to think of it, it does + give a kind of charm to a place, if you feel that at any moment the feller + at the next table to you may be gathered up by the slack of his trousers + and slung into the street. + </p> + <p> + Anyhow, that's the way our supper-custom seemed to look at it; and after + that you had to book a table in advance if you wanted to eat with us. They + fairly flocked to the place. + </p> + <p> + But Katie didn't. She didn't flock. She stayed away. And no wonder, after + Andy behaving so bad. I'd of spoke to him about it, only he wasn't the + kind of feller you do speak to about things. + </p> + <p> + One day I says to him to cheer him up, 'What price this restaurant now, Mr + Andy?' + </p> + <p> + 'Curse the restaurant,' he says. + </p> + <p> + And him with all that supper-custom! It's a rum world! + </p> + <p> + Mister, have you ever had a real shock—something that came out of + nowhere and just knocked you flat? I have, and I'm going to tell you about + it. + </p> + <p> + When a man gets to be my age, and has a job of work which keeps him busy + till it's time for him to go to bed, he gets into the habit of not doing + much worrying about anything that ain't shoved right under his nose. + That's why, about now, Katie had kind of slipped my mind. It wasn't that I + wasn't fond of the kid, but I'd got so much to think about, what with + having four young fellers under me and things being in such a rush at the + restaurant that, if I thought of her at all, I just took it for granted + that she was getting along all right, and didn't bother. To be sure we + hadn't seen nothing of her at MacFarland's since the night when Andy + bounced her pal with the small size in foreheads, but that didn't worry + me. If I'd been her, I'd have stopped away the same as she done, seeing + that young Andy still had his hump. I took it for granted, as I'm telling + you, that she was all right, and that the reason we didn't see nothing of + her was that she was taking her patronage elsewhere. + </p> + <p> + And then, one evening, which happened to be my evening off, I got a + letter, and for ten minutes after I read it I was knocked flat. + </p> + <p> + You get to believe in fate when you get to be my age, and fate certainly + had taken a hand in this game. If it hadn't of been my evening off, don't + you see, I wouldn't have got home till one o'clock or past that in the + morning, being on duty. Whereas, seeing it was my evening off, I was back + at half past eight. + </p> + <p> + I was living at the same boarding-house in Bloomsbury what I'd lived at + for the past ten years, and when I got there I find her letter shoved half + under my door. + </p> + <p> + I can tell you every word of it. This is how it went: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>Darling Uncle Bill,</i> + + <i>Don't be too sorry when you read this. It is nobody's fault, + but I am just tired of everything, and I want to end it all. You + have been such a dear to me always that I want you to be good to + me now. I should not like Andy to know the truth, so I want you + to make it seem as if it had happened naturally. You will do this + for me, won't you? It will be quite easy. By the time you get this, + it will be one, and it will all be over, and you can just come up + and open the window and let the gas out and then everyone will + think I just died naturally. It will be quite easy. I am leaving + the door unlocked so that you can get in. I am in the room just + above yours. I took it yesterday, so as to be near you. Good-bye, + Uncle Bill. You will do it for me, won't you? I don't want Andy to + know what it really was.</i> + + KATIE +</pre> + <p> + That was it, mister, and I tell you it floored me. And then it come to me, + kind of as a new idea, that I'd best do something pretty soon, and up the + stairs I went quick. + </p> + <p> + There she was, on the bed, with her eyes closed, and the gas just + beginning to get bad. + </p> + <p> + As I come in, she jumped up, and stood staring at me. I went to the tap, + and turned the flow off, and then I gives her a look. + </p> + <p> + 'Now then,' I says. + </p> + <p> + 'How did you get here?' + </p> + <p> + 'Never mind how I got here. What have you got to say for yourself?' + </p> + <p> + She just began to cry, same as she used to when she was a kid and someone + had hurt her. + </p> + <p> + 'Here,' I says, 'let's get along out of here, and go where there's some + air to breathe. Don't you take on so. You come along out and tell me all + about it.' + </p> + <p> + She started to walk to where I was, and suddenly I seen she was limping. + So I gave her a hand down to my room, and set her on a chair. + </p> + <p> + 'Now then,' I says again. + </p> + <p> + 'Don't be angry with me, Uncle Bill,' she says. + </p> + <p> + And she looks at me so pitiful that I goes up to her and puts my arm round + her and pats her on the back. + </p> + <p> + 'Don't you worry, dearie,' I says, 'nobody ain't going to be angry with + you. But, for goodness' sake,' I says, 'tell a man why in the name of + goodness you ever took and acted so foolish.' + </p> + <p> + 'I wanted to end it all.' + </p> + <p> + 'But why?' + </p> + <p> + She burst out a-crying again, like a kid. + </p> + <p> + 'Didn't you read about it in the paper, Uncle Bill?' + </p> + <p> + 'Read about what in the paper?' + </p> + <p> + 'My accident. I broke my ankle at rehearsal ever so long ago, practising + my new dance. The doctors say it will never be right again. I shall never + be able to dance any more. I shall always limp. I shan't even be able to + walk properly. And when I thought of that ... and Andy ... and everything + ... I....' + </p> + <p> + I got on to my feet. + </p> + <p> + 'Well, well, well,' I says. 'Well, well, well! I don't know as I blame + you. But don't you do it. It's a mug's game. Look here, if I leave you + alone for half an hour, you won't go trying it on again? Promise.' + </p> + <p> + 'Very well, Uncle Bill. Where are you going?' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, just out. I'll be back soon. You sit there and rest yourself.' + </p> + <p> + It didn't take me ten minutes to get to the restaurant in a cab. I found + Andy in the back room. + </p> + <p> + 'What's the matter, Henry?' he says. + </p> + <p> + 'Take a look at this,' I says. + </p> + <p> + There's always this risk, mister, in being the Andy type of feller what + must have his own way and goes straight ahead and has it; and that is that + when trouble does come to him, it comes with a rush. It sometimes seems to + me that in this life we've all got to have trouble sooner or later, and + some of us gets it bit by bit, spread out thin, so to speak, and a few of + us gets it in a lump—<i>biff</i>! And that was what happened to + Andy, and what I knew was going to happen when I showed him that letter. I + nearly says to him, 'Brace up, young feller, because this is where you get + it.' + </p> + <p> + I don't often go to the theatre, but when I do I like one of those plays + with some ginger in them which the papers generally cuss. The papers say + that real human beings don't carry on in that way. Take it from me, + mister, they do. I seen a feller on the stage read a letter once which + didn't just suit him; and he gasped and rolled his eyes and tried to say + something and couldn't, and had to get a hold on a chair to keep him from + falling. There was a piece in the paper saying that this was all wrong, + and that he wouldn't of done them things in real life. Believe me, the + paper was wrong. There wasn't a thing that feller did that Andy didn't do + when he read that letter. + </p> + <p> + 'God!' he says. 'Is she ... She isn't.... Were you in time?' he says. + </p> + <p> + And he looks at me, and I seen that he had got it in the neck, right + enough. + </p> + <p> + 'If you mean is she dead,' I says, 'no, she ain't dead.' + </p> + <p> + 'Thank God!' + </p> + <p> + 'Not yet,' I says. + </p> + <p> + And the next moment we was out of that room and in the cab and moving + quick. + </p> + <p> + He was never much of a talker, wasn't Andy, and he didn't chat in that + cab. He didn't say a word till we was going up the stairs. + </p> + <p> + 'Where?' he says. + </p> + <p> + 'Here,' I says. + </p> + <p> + And I opens the door. + </p> + <p> + Katie was standing looking out of the window. She turned as the door + opened, and then she saw Andy. Her lips parted, as if she was going to say + something, but she didn't say nothing. And Andy, he didn't say nothing, + neither. He just looked, and she just looked. + </p> + <p> + And then he sort of stumbles across the room, and goes down on his knees, + and gets his arms around her. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, my kid' he says. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + And I seen I wasn't wanted, so I shut the door, and I hopped it. I went + and saw the last half of a music-hall. But, I don't know, it didn't kind + of have no fascination for me. You've got to give your mind to it to + appreciate good music-hall turns. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ONE TOUCH OF NATURE + </h2> + <p> + The feelings of Mr J. Wilmot Birdsey, as he stood wedged in the crowd that + moved inch by inch towards the gates of the Chelsea Football Ground, + rather resembled those of a starving man who has just been given a meal + but realizes that he is not likely to get another for many days. He was + full and happy. He bubbled over with the joy of living and a warm + affection for his fellow-man. At the back of his mind there lurked the + black shadow of future privations, but for the moment he did not allow it + to disturb him. On this maddest, merriest day of all the glad New Year he + was content to revel in the present and allow the future to take care of + itself. + </p> + <p> + Mr Birdsey had been doing something which he had not done since he left + New York five years ago. He had been watching a game of baseball. + </p> + <p> + New York lost a great baseball fan when Hugo Percy de Wynter Framlinghame, + sixth Earl of Carricksteed, married Mae Elinor, only daughter of Mr and + Mrs J. Wilmot Birdsey of East Seventy-Third Street; for scarcely had that + internationally important event taken place when Mrs Birdsey, announcing + that for the future the home would be in England as near as possible to + dear Mae and dear Hugo, scooped J. Wilmot out of his comfortable morris + chair as if he had been a clam, corked him up in a swift taxicab, and + decanted him into a Deck B stateroom on the <i>Olympic</i>. And there he + was, an exile. + </p> + <p> + Mr Birdsey submitted to the worst bit of kidnapping since the days of the + old press gang with that delightful amiability which made him so popular + among his fellows and such a cypher in his home. At an early date in his + married life his position had been clearly defined beyond possibility of + mistake. It was his business to make money, and, when called upon, to jump + through hoops and sham dead at the bidding of his wife and daughter Mae. + These duties he had been performing conscientiously for a matter of twenty + years. + </p> + <p> + It was only occasionally that his humble role jarred upon him, for he + loved his wife and idolized his daughter. The international alliance had + been one of these occasions. He had no objection to Hugo Percy, sixth Earl + of Carricksteed. The crushing blow had been the sentence of exile. He + loved baseball with a love passing the love of women, and the prospect of + never seeing a game again in his life appalled him. + </p> + <p> + And then, one morning, like a voice from another world, had come the news + that the White Sox and the Giants were to give an exhibition in London at + the Chelsea Football Ground. He had counted the days like a child before + Christmas. + </p> + <p> + There had been obstacles to overcome before he could attend the game, but + he had overcome them, and had been seated in the front row when the two + teams lined up before King George. + </p> + <p> + And now he was moving slowly from the ground with the rest of the + spectators. Fate had been very good to him. It had given him a great game, + even unto two home-runs. But its crowning benevolence had been to allot + the seats on either side of him to two men of his own mettle, two god-like + beings who knew every move on the board, and howled like wolves when they + did not see eye to eye with the umpire. Long before the ninth innings he + was feeling towards them the affection of a shipwrecked mariner who meets + a couple of boyhood's chums on a desert island. + </p> + <p> + As he shouldered his way towards the gate he was aware of these two men, + one on either side of him. He looked at them fondly, trying to make up his + mind which of them he liked best. It was sad to think that they must soon + go out of his life again for ever. + </p> + <p> + He came to a sudden resolution. He would postpone the parting. He would + ask them to dinner. Over the best that the Savoy Hotel could provide they + would fight the afternoon's battle over again. He did not know who they + were or anything about them, but what did that matter? They were + brother-fans. That was enough for him. + </p> + <p> + The man on his right was young, clean-shaven, and of a somewhat vulturine + cast of countenance. His face was cold and impassive now, almost + forbiddingly so; but only half an hour before it had been a battle-field + of conflicting emotions, and his hat still showed the dent where he had + banged it against the edge of his seat on the occasion of Mr Daly's + home-run. A worthy guest! + </p> + <p> + The man on Mr Birdsey's left belonged to another species of fan. Though + there had been times during the game when he had howled, for the most part + he had watched in silence so hungrily tense that a less experienced + observer than Mr Birdsey might have attributed his immobility to boredom. + But one glance at his set jaw and gleaming eyes told him that here also + was a man and a brother. + </p> + <p> + This man's eyes were still gleaming, and under their curiously deep tan + his bearded cheeks were pale. He was staring straight in front of him with + an unseeing gaze. + </p> + <p> + Mr Birdsey tapped the young man on the shoulder. + </p> + <p> + 'Some game!' he said. + </p> + <p> + The young man looked at him and smiled. + </p> + <p> + 'You bet,' he said. + </p> + <p> + 'I haven't seen a ball-game in five years.' + </p> + <p> + 'The last one I saw was two years ago next June.' + </p> + <p> + 'Come and have some dinner at my hotel and talk it over,' said Mr Birdsey + impulsively. + </p> + <p> + 'Sure!' said the young man. + </p> + <p> + Mr Birdsey turned and tapped the shoulder of the man on his left. + </p> + <p> + The result was a little unexpected. The man gave a start that was almost a + leap, and the pallor of his face became a sickly white. His eyes, as he + swung round, met Mr Birdsey's for an instant before they dropped, and + there was panic fear in them. His breath whistled softly through clenched + teeth. + </p> + <p> + Mr Birdsey was taken aback. The cordiality of the clean-shaven young man + had not prepared him for the possibility of such a reception. He felt + chilled. He was on the point of apologizing with some murmur about a + mistake, when the man reassured him by smiling. It was rather a painful + smile, but it was enough for Mr Birdsey. This man might be of a nervous + temperament, but his heart was in the right place. + </p> + <p> + He, too, smiled. He was a small, stout, red-faced little man, and he + possessed a smile that rarely failed to set strangers at their ease. Many + strenuous years on the New York Stock Exchange had not destroyed a certain + childlike amiability in Mr Birdsey, and it shone out when he smiled at + you. + </p> + <p> + 'I'm afraid I startled you,' he said soothingly. 'I wanted to ask you if + you would let a perfect stranger, who also happens to be an exile, offer + you dinner tonight.' + </p> + <p> + The man winced. 'Exile?' + </p> + <p> + 'An exiled fan. Don't you feel that the Polo Grounds are a good long way + away? This gentleman is joining me. I have a suite at the Savoy Hotel, and + I thought we might all have a quiet little dinner there and talk about the + game. I haven't seen a ball-game in five years.' + </p> + <p> + 'Nor have I.' + </p> + <p> + 'Then you must come. You really must. We fans ought to stick to one + another in a strange land. Do come.' + </p> + <p> + 'Thank you,' said the bearded man; 'I will.' + </p> + <p> + When three men, all strangers, sit down to dinner together, conversation, + even if they happen to have a mutual passion for baseball, is apt to be + for a while a little difficult. The first fine frenzy in which Mr Birdsey + had issued his invitations had begun to ebb by the time the soup was + served, and he was conscious of a feeling of embarrassment. + </p> + <p> + There was some subtle hitch in the orderly progress of affairs. He sensed + it in the air. Both of his guests were disposed to silence, and the + clean-shaven young man had developed a trick of staring at the man with + the beard, which was obviously distressing that sensitive person. + </p> + <p> + 'Wine,' murmured Mr Birdsey to the waiter. 'Wine, wine!' + </p> + <p> + He spoke with the earnestness of a general calling up his reserves for the + grand attack. The success of this little dinner mattered enormously to + him. There were circumstances which were going to make it an oasis in his + life. He wanted it to be an occasion to which, in grey days to come, he + could look back and be consoled. He could not let it be a failure. + </p> + <p> + He was about to speak when the young man anticipated him. Leaning forward, + he addressed the bearded man, who was crumbling bread with an absent look + in his eyes. + </p> + <p> + 'Surely we have met before?' he said. 'I'm sure I remember your face.' + </p> + <p> + The effect of these words on the other was as curious as the effect of Mr + Birdsey's tap on the shoulder had been. He looked up like a hunted animal. + </p> + <p> + He shook his head without speaking. + </p> + <p> + 'Curious,' said the young man. 'I could have sworn to it, and I am + positive that it was somewhere in New York. Do you come from New York?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes.' + </p> + <p> + 'It seems to me,' said Mr Birdsey, 'that we ought to introduce ourselves. + Funny it didn't strike any of us before. My name is Birdsey, J. Wilmot + Birdsey. I come from New York.' + </p> + <p> + 'My name is Waterall,' said the young man. 'I come from New York.' + </p> + <p> + The bearded man hesitated. + </p> + <p> + 'My name is Johnson. I—used to live in New York.' + </p> + <p> + 'Where do you live now, Mr Johnson?' asked Waterall. + </p> + <p> + The bearded man hesitated again. 'Algiers,' he said. + </p> + <p> + Mr Birdsey was inspired to help matters along with small-talk. + </p> + <p> + 'Algiers,' he said. 'I have never been there, but I understand that it is + quite a place. Are you in business there, Mr Johnson?' + </p> + <p> + 'I live there for my health.' + </p> + <p> + 'Have you been there some time?' inquired Waterall. + </p> + <p> + 'Five years.' + </p> + <p> + 'Then it must have been in New York that I saw you, for I have never been + to Algiers, and I'm certain I have seen you somewhere. I'm afraid you will + think me a bore for sticking to the point like this, but the fact is, the + one thing I pride myself on is my memory for faces. It's a hobby of mine. + If I think I remember a face, and can't place it, I worry myself into + insomnia. It's partly sheer vanity, and partly because in my job a good + memory for faces is a mighty fine asset. It has helped me a hundred + times.' + </p> + <p> + Mr Birdsey was an intelligent man, and he could see that Waterall's + table-talk was for some reason getting upon Johnson's nerves. Like a good + host, he endeavoured to cut in and make things smooth. + </p> + <p> + 'I've heard great accounts of Algiers,' he said helpfully. 'A friend of + mine was there in his yacht last year. It must be a delightful spot.' + </p> + <p> + 'It's a hell on earth,' snapped Johnson, and slew the conversation on the + spot. + </p> + <p> + Through a grim silence an angel in human form fluttered in—a waiter + bearing a bottle. The pop of the cork was more than music to Mr Birdsey's + ears. It was the booming of the guns of the relieving army. + </p> + <p> + The first glass, as first glasses will, thawed the bearded man, to the + extent of inducing him to try and pick up the fragments of the + conversation which he had shattered. + </p> + <p> + 'I am afraid you will have thought me abrupt, Mr Birdsey,' he said + awkwardly; 'but then you haven't lived in Algiers for five years, and I + have.' + </p> + <p> + Mr Birdsey chirruped sympathetically. + </p> + <p> + 'I liked it at first. It looked mighty good to me. But five years of it, + and nothing else to look forward to till you die....' + </p> + <p> + He stopped, and emptied his glass. Mr Birdsey was still perturbed. True, + conversation was proceeding in a sort of way, but it had taken a + distinctly gloomy turn. Slightly flushed with the excellent champagne + which he had selected for this important dinner, he endeavoured to lighten + it. + </p> + <p> + 'I wonder,' he said, 'which of us three fans had the greatest difficulty + in getting to the bleachers today. I guess none of us found it too easy.' + </p> + <p> + The young man shook his head. + </p> + <p> + 'Don't count on me to contribute a romantic story to this Arabian Night's + Entertainment. My difficulty would have been to stop away. My name's + Waterall, and I'm the London correspondent of the <i>New York Chronicle</i>. + I had to be there this afternoon in the way of business.' + </p> + <p> + Mr Birdsey giggled self-consciously, but not without a certain impish + pride. + </p> + <p> + 'The laugh will be on me when you hear my confession. My daughter married + an English earl, and my wife brought me over here to mix with his crowd. + There was a big dinner-party tonight, at which the whole gang were to be + present, and it was as much as my life was worth to side-step it. But when + you get the Giants and the White Sox playing ball within fifty miles of + you—Well, I packed a grip and sneaked out the back way, and got to + the station and caught the fast train to London. And what is going on back + there at this moment I don't like to think. About now,' said Mr Birdsey, + looking at his watch, 'I guess they'll be pronging the <i>hors d'oeuvres</i> + and gazing at the empty chair. It was a shame to do it, but, for the love + of Mike, what else could I have done?' + </p> + <p> + He looked at the bearded man. + </p> + <p> + 'Did you have any adventures, Mr Johnson?' + </p> + <p> + 'No. I—I just came.' + </p> + <p> + The young man Waterall leaned forward. His manner was quiet, but his eyes + were glittering. + </p> + <p> + 'Wasn't that enough of an adventure for you?' he said. + </p> + <p> + Their eyes met across the table. Seated between them, Mr Birdsey looked + from one to the other, vaguely disturbed. Something was happening, a drama + was going on, and he had not the key to it. + </p> + <p> + Johnson's face was pale, and the tablecloth crumpled into a crooked ridge + under his fingers, but his voice was steady as he replied: + </p> + <p> + 'I don't understand.' + </p> + <p> + 'Will you understand if I give you your right name, Mr Benyon?' + </p> + <p> + 'What's all this?' said Mr Birdsey feebly. + </p> + <p> + Waterall turned to him, the vulturine cast of his face more noticeable + than ever. Mr Birdsey was conscious of a sudden distaste for this young + man. + </p> + <p> + 'It's quite simple, Mr Birdsey. If you have not been entertaining angels + unawares, you have at least been giving a dinner to a celebrity. I told + you I was sure I had seen this gentleman before. I have just remembered + where, and when. This is Mr John Benyon, and I last saw him five years ago + when I was a reporter in New York, and covered his trial.' + </p> + <p> + 'His trial?' + </p> + <p> + 'He robbed the New Asiatic Bank of a hundred thousand dollars, jumped his + bail, and was never heard of again.' + </p> + <p> + 'For the love of Mike!' + </p> + <p> + Mr Birdsey stared at his guest with eyes that grew momently wider. He was + amazed to find that deep down in him there was an unmistakable feeling of + elation. He had made up his mind, when he left home that morning, that + this was to be a day of days. Well, nobody could call this an anti-climax. + </p> + <p> + 'So that's why you have been living in Algiers?' + </p> + <p> + Benyon did not reply. Outside, the Strand traffic sent a faint murmur into + the warm, comfortable room. + </p> + <p> + Waterall spoke. 'What on earth induced you, Benyon, to run the risk of + coming to London, where every second man you meet is a New Yorker, I can't + understand. The chances were two to one that you would be recognized. You + made a pretty big splash with that little affair of yours five years ago.' + </p> + <p> + Benyon raised his head. His hands were trembling. + </p> + <p> + 'I'll tell you,' he said with a kind of savage force, which hurt kindly + little Mr Birdsey like a blow. 'It was because I was a dead man, and saw a + chance of coming to life for a day; because I was sick of the damned tomb + I've been living in for five centuries; because I've been aching for New + York ever since I've left it—and here was a chance of being back + there for a few hours. I knew there was a risk. I took a chance on it. + Well?' + </p> + <p> + Mr Birdsey's heart was almost too full for words. He had found him at + last, the Super-Fan, the man who would go through fire and water for a + sight of a game of baseball. Till that moment he had been regarding + himself as the nearest approach to that dizzy eminence. He had braved + great perils to see this game. Even in this moment his mind would not + wholly detach itself from speculation as to what his wife would say to him + when he slunk back into the fold. But what had he risked compared with + this man Benyon? Mr Birdsey glowed. He could not restrain his sympathy and + admiration. True, the man was a criminal. He had robbed a bank of a + hundred thousand dollars. But, after all, what was that? They would + probably have wasted the money in foolishness. And, anyway, a bank which + couldn't take care of its money deserved to lose it. + </p> + <p> + Mr Birdsey felt almost a righteous glow of indignation against the New + Asiatic Bank. + </p> + <p> + He broke the silence which had followed Benyon's words with a peculiarly + immoral remark: + </p> + <p> + 'Well, it's lucky it's only us that's recognized you,' he said. + </p> + <p> + Waterall stared. 'Are you proposing that we should hush this thing up, Mr + Birdsey?' he said coldly. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, well—' + </p> + <p> + Waterall rose and went to the telephone. + </p> + <p> + 'What are you going to do?' + </p> + <p> + 'Call up Scotland Yard, of course. What did you think?' + </p> + <p> + Undoubtedly the young man was doing his duty as a citizen, yet it is to be + recorded that Mr Birdsey eyed him with unmixed horror. + </p> + <p> + 'You can't! You mustn't!' he cried. + </p> + <p> + 'I certainly shall.' + </p> + <p> + 'But—but—this fellow came all that way to see the ball-game.' + </p> + <p> + It seemed incredible to Mr Birdsey that this aspect of the affair should + not be the one to strike everybody to the exclusion of all other aspects. + </p> + <p> + 'You can't give him up. It's too raw.' + </p> + <p> + 'He's a convicted criminal.' + </p> + <p> + 'He's a fan. Why, say, he's <i>the</i> fan.' + </p> + <p> + Waterall shrugged his shoulders, and walked to the telephone. Benyon + spoke. + </p> + <p> + 'One moment.' + </p> + <p> + Waterall turned, and found himself looking into the muzzle of a small + pistol. He laughed. + </p> + <p> + 'I expected that. Wave it about all you want.' + </p> + <p> + Benyon rested his shaking hand on the edge of the table. + </p> + <p> + 'I'll shoot if you move.' + </p> + <p> + 'You won't. You haven't the nerve. There's nothing to you. You're just a + cheap crook, and that's all. You wouldn't find the nerve to pull that + trigger in a million years.' + </p> + <p> + He took off the receiver. + </p> + <p> + 'Give me Scotland Yard,' he said. + </p> + <p> + He had turned his back to Benyon. Benyon sat motionless. Then, with a + thud, the pistol fell to the ground. The next moment Benyon had broken + down. His face was buried in his arms, and he was a wreck of a man, + sobbing like a hurt child. + </p> + <p> + Mr Birdsey was profoundly distressed. He sat tingling and helpless. This + was a nightmare. + </p> + <p> + Waterall's level voice spoke at the telephone. + </p> + <p> + 'Is this Scotland Yard? I am Waterall, of the <i>New York Chronicle</i>. + Is Inspector Jarvis there? Ask him to come to the phone.... Is that you, + Jarvis? This is Waterall. I'm speaking from the Savoy, Mr Birdsey's rooms. + Birdsey. Listen, Jarvis. There's a man here that's wanted by the American + police. Send someone here and get him. Benyon. Robbed the New Asiatic Bank + in New York. Yes, you've a warrant out for him, five years old.... All + right.' + </p> + <p> + He hung up the receiver. Benyon sprang to his feet. He stood, shaking, a + pitiable sight. Mr Birdsey had risen with him. They stood looking at + Waterall. + </p> + <p> + 'You—skunk!' said Mr Birdsey. + </p> + <p> + 'I'm an American citizen,' said Waterall, 'and I happen to have some idea + of a citizen's duties. What is more, I'm a newspaper man, and I have some + idea of my duty to my paper. Call me what you like, you won't alter that.' + </p> + <p> + Mr Birdsey snorted. + </p> + <p> + 'You're suffering from ingrowing sentimentality, Mr Birdsey. That's what's + the matter with you. Just because this man has escaped justice for five + years, you think he ought to be considered quit of the whole thing.' + </p> + <p> + 'But—but—' + </p> + <p> + 'I don't.' + </p> + <p> + He took out his cigarette case. He was feeling a great deal more strung-up + and nervous than he would have had the others suspect. He had had a moment + of very swift thinking before he had decided to treat that ugly little + pistol in a spirit of contempt. Its production had given him a decided + shock, and now he was suffering from reaction. As a consequence, because + his nerves were strained, he lit his cigarette very languidly, very + carefully, and with an offensive superiority which was to Mr Birdsey the + last straw. + </p> + <p> + These things are matters of an instant. Only an infinitesimal fraction of + time elapsed between the spectacle of Mr Birdsey, indignant but inactive, + and Mr Birdsey berserk, seeing red, frankly and undisguisedly running + amok. The transformation took place in the space of time required for the + lighting of a match. + </p> + <p> + Even as the match gave out its flame, Mr Birdsey sprang. + </p> + <p> + Aeons before, when the young blood ran swiftly in his veins and life was + all before him, Mr Birdsey had played football. Once a footballer, always + a potential footballer, even to the grave. Time had removed the flying + tackle as a factor in Mr Birdsey's life. Wrath brought it back. He dived + at young Mr Waterall's neatly trousered legs as he had dived at other + legs, less neatly trousered, thirty years ago. They crashed to the floor + together; and with the crash came Mr Birdsey's shout: + </p> + <p> + 'Run! Run, you fool! Run!' + </p> + <p> + And, even as he clung to his man, breathless, bruised, feeling as if all + the world had dissolved in one vast explosion of dynamite, the door + opened, banged to, and feet fled down the passage. + </p> + <p> + Mr Birdsey disentangled himself, and rose painfully. The shock had brought + him to himself. He was no longer berserk. He was a middle-aged gentleman + of high respectability who had been behaving in a very peculiar way. + </p> + <p> + Waterall, flushed and dishevelled, glared at him speechlessly. He gulped. + 'Are you crazy?' + </p> + <p> + Mr Birdsey tested gingerly the mechanism of a leg which lay under + suspicion of being broken. Relieved, he put his foot to the ground again. + He shook his head at Waterall. He was slightly crumpled, but he achieved a + manner of dignified reproof. + </p> + <p> + 'You shouldn't have done it, young man. It was raw work. Oh, yes, I know + all about that duty-of-a-citizen stuff. It doesn't go. There are + exceptions to every rule, and this was one of them. When a man risks his + liberty to come and root at a ball-game, you've got to hand it to him. He + isn't a crook. He's a fan. And we exiled fans have got to stick together.' + </p> + <p> + Waterall was quivering with fury, disappointment, and the peculiar + unpleasantness of being treated by an elderly gentleman like a sack of + coals. He stammered with rage. + </p> + <p> + 'You damned old fool, do you realize what you've done? The police will be + here in another minute.' + </p> + <p> + 'Let them come.' + </p> + <p> + 'But what am I to say to them? What explanation can I give? What story can + I tell them? Can't you see what a hole you've put me in?' + </p> + <p> + Something seemed to click inside Mr Birdsey's soul. It was the berserk + mood vanishing and reason leaping back on to her throne. He was able now + to think calmly, and what he thought about filled him with a sudden gloom. + </p> + <p> + 'Young man,' he said, 'don't worry yourself. You've got a cinch. You've + only got to hand a story to the police. Any old tale will do for them. I'm + the man with the really difficult job—I've got to square myself with + my wife!' + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BLACK FOR LUCK + </h2> + <p> + He was black, but comely. Obviously in reduced circumstances, he had + nevertheless contrived to retain a certain smartness, a certain air—what + the French call the <i>tournure</i>. Nor had poverty killed in him the + aristocrat's instinct of personal cleanliness; for even as Elizabeth + caught sight of him he began to wash himself. + </p> + <p> + At the sound of her step he looked up. He did not move, but there was + suspicion in his attitude. The muscles of his back contracted, his eyes + glowed like yellow lamps against black velvet, his tail switched a little, + warningly. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth looked at him. He looked at Elizabeth. There was a pause, while + he summed her up. Then he stalked towards her, and, suddenly lowering his + head, drove it vigorously against her dress. He permitted her to pick him + up and carry him into the hall-way, where Francis, the janitor, stood. + </p> + <p> + 'Francis,' said Elizabeth, 'does this cat belong to anyone here?' + </p> + <p> + 'No, miss. That cat's a stray, that cat is. I been trying to locate that + cat's owner for days.' + </p> + <p> + Francis spent his time trying to locate things. It was the one recreation + of his eventless life. Sometimes it was a noise, sometimes a lost letter, + sometimes a piece of ice which had gone astray in the dumb-waiter—whatever + it was, Francis tried to locate it. + </p> + <p> + 'Has he been round here long, then?' + </p> + <p> + 'I seen him snooping about a considerable time.' + </p> + <p> + 'I shall keep him.' + </p> + <p> + 'Black cats bring luck,' said Francis sententiously. + </p> + <p> + 'I certainly shan't object to that,' said Elizabeth. She was feeling that + morning that a little luck would be a pleasing novelty. Things had not + been going very well with her of late. It was not so much that the usual + proportion of her manuscripts had come back with editorial compliments + from the magazine to which they had been sent—she accepted that as + part of the game; what she did consider scurvy treatment at the hands of + fate was the fact that her own pet magazine, the one to which she had been + accustomed to fly for refuge, almost sure of a welcome—when coldly + treated by all the others—had suddenly expired with a low gurgle for + want of public support. It was like losing a kind and open-handed + relative, and it made the addition of a black cat to the household almost + a necessity. + </p> + <p> + In her flat, the door closed, she watched her new ally with some anxiety. + He had behaved admirably on the journey upstairs, but she would not have + been surprised, though it would have pained her, if he had now proceeded + to try to escape through the ceiling. Cats were so emotional. However, he + remained calm, and, after padding silently about the room for awhile, + raised his head and uttered a crooning cry. + </p> + <p> + 'That's right,' said Elizabeth, cordially. 'If you don't see what you + want, ask for it. The place is yours.' + </p> + <p> + She went to the ice-box, and produced milk and sardines. There was nothing + finicky or affected about her guest. He was a good trencherman, and he did + not care who knew it. He concentrated himself on the restoration of his + tissues with the purposeful air of one whose last meal is a dim memory. + Elizabeth, brooding over him like a Providence, wrinkled her forehead in + thought. + </p> + <p> + 'Joseph,' she said at last, brightening; 'that's your name. Now settle + down, and start being a mascot.' + </p> + <p> + Joseph settled down amazingly. By the end of the second day he was + conveying the impression that he was the real owner of the apartment, and + that it was due to his good nature that Elizabeth was allowed the run of + the place. Like most of his species, he was an autocrat. He waited a day + to ascertain which was Elizabeth's favourite chair, then appropriated it + for his own. If Elizabeth closed a door while he was in a room, he wanted + it opened so that he might go out; if she closed it while he was outside, + he wanted it opened so that he might come in; if she left it open, he + fussed about the draught. But the best of us have our faults, and + Elizabeth adored him in spite of his. + </p> + <p> + It was astonishing what a difference he made in her life. She was a + friendly soul, and until Joseph's arrival she had had to depend for + company mainly on the footsteps of the man in the flat across the way. + Moreover, the building was an old one, and it creaked at night. There was + a loose board in the passage which made burglar noises in the dark behind + you when you stepped on it on the way to bed; and there were funny + scratching sounds which made you jump and hold your breath. Joseph soon + put a stop to all that. With Joseph around, a loose board became a loose + board, nothing more, and a scratching noise just a plain scratching noise. + </p> + <p> + And then one afternoon he disappeared. + </p> + <p> + Having searched the flat without finding him, Elizabeth went to the + window, with the intention of making a bird's-eye survey of the street. + She was not hopeful, for she had just come from the street, and there had + been no sign of him then. + </p> + <p> + Outside the window was a broad ledge, running the width of the building. + It terminated on the left, in a shallow balcony belonging to the flat + whose front door faced hers—the flat of the young man whose + footsteps she sometimes heard. She knew he was a young man, because + Francis had told her so. His name, James Renshaw Boyd, she had learned + from the same source. + </p> + <p> + On this shallow balcony, licking his fur with the tip of a crimson tongue + and generally behaving as if he were in his own backyard, sat Joseph. + </p> + <p> + 'Jo-seph!' cried Elizabeth—surprise, joy, and reproach combining to + give her voice an almost melodramatic quiver. + </p> + <p> + He looked at her coldly. Worse, he looked at her as if she had been an + utter stranger. Bulging with her meat and drink, he cut her dead; and, + having done so, turned and walked into the next flat. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth was a girl of spirit. Joseph might look at her as if she were a + saucerful of tainted milk, but he was her cat, and she meant to get him + back. She went out and rang the bell of Mr James Renshaw Boyd's flat. + </p> + <p> + The door was opened by a shirt-sleeved young man. He was by no means an + unsightly young man. Indeed, of his type—the rough-haired, + clean-shaven, square-jawed type—he was a distinctly good-looking + young man. Even though she was regarding him at the moment purely in the + light of a machine for returning strayed cats, Elizabeth noticed that. + </p> + <p> + She smiled upon him. It was not the fault of this nice-looking young man + that his sitting-room window was open; or that Joseph was an ungrateful + little beast who should have no fish that night. + </p> + <p> + 'Would you mind letting me have my cat, please?' she said pleasantly. 'He + has gone into your sitting-room through the window.' + </p> + <p> + He looked faintly surprised. + </p> + <p> + 'Your cat?' + </p> + <p> + 'My black cat, Joseph. He is in your sitting-room.' + </p> + <p> + 'I'm afraid you have come to the wrong place. I've just left my + sitting-room, and the only cat there is my black cat, Reginald.' + </p> + <p> + 'But I saw Joseph go in only a minute ago.' + </p> + <p> + 'That was Reginald.' + </p> + <p> + For the first time, as one who examining a fair shrub abruptly discovers + that it is a stinging-nettle, Elizabeth realized the truth. This was no + innocent young man who stood before her, but the blackest criminal known + to criminologists—a stealer of other people's cats. Her manner shot + down to zero. + </p> + <p> + 'May I ask how long you have had your Reginald?' + </p> + <p> + 'Since four o'clock this afternoon.' + </p> + <p> + 'Did he come in through the window?' + </p> + <p> + 'Why, yes. Now you mention it, he did.' + </p> + <p> + 'I must ask you to be good enough to give me back my cat,' said Elizabeth, + icily. + </p> + <p> + He regarded her defensively. + </p> + <p> + 'Assuming,' he said, 'purely for the purposes of academic argument, that + your Joseph is my Reginald, couldn't we come to an agreement of some sort? + Let me buy you another cat. A dozen cats.' + </p> + <p> + 'I don't want a dozen cats. I want Joseph.' + </p> + <p> + 'Fine, fat, soft cats,' he went on persuasively. 'Lovely, affectionate + Persians and Angoras, and—' + </p> + <p> + 'Of course, if you intend to steal Joseph—' + </p> + <p> + 'These are harsh words. Any lawyer will tell you that there are special + statutes regarding cats. To retain a stray cat is not a tort or a + misdemeanour. In the celebrated test-case of Wiggins <i>v</i>. Bluebody it + was established—' + </p> + <p> + 'Will you please give me back my cat?' + </p> + <p> + She stood facing him, her chin in the air and her eyes shining, and the + young man suddenly fell a victim to conscience. + </p> + <p> + 'Look here,' he said, 'I'll throw myself on your mercy. I admit the cat is + your cat, and that I have no right to it, and that I am just a common + sneak-thief. But consider. I had just come back from the first rehearsal + of my first play; and as I walked in at the door that cat walked in at the + window. I'm as superstitious as a coon, and I felt that to give him up + would be equivalent to killing the play before ever it was produced. I + know it will sound absurd to you. <i>You</i> have no idiotic + superstitions. You are sane and practical. But, in the circumstances, if + you <i>could</i> see your way to waiving your rights—' + </p> + <p> + Before the wistfulness of his eye Elizabeth capitulated. She felt quite + overcome by the revulsion of feeling which swept through her. How she had + misjudged him! She had taken him for an ordinary soulless purloiner of + cats, a snapper-up of cats at random and without reason; and all the time + he had been reluctantly compelled to the act by this deep and praiseworthy + motive. All the unselfishness and love of sacrifice innate in good women + stirred within her. + </p> + <p> + 'Why, of <i>course</i> you mustn't let him go! It would mean awful bad + luck.' + </p> + <p> + 'But how about you—' + </p> + <p> + 'Never mind about me. Think of all the people who are dependent on your + play being a success.' + </p> + <p> + The young man blinked. + </p> + <p> + 'This is overwhelming,' he said. + </p> + <p> + 'I had no notion why you wanted him. He was nothing to me—at least, + nothing much—that is to say—well, I suppose I was rather fond + of him—but he was not—not—' + </p> + <p> + 'Vital?' + </p> + <p> + 'That's just the word I wanted. He was just company, you know.' + </p> + <p> + 'Haven't you many friends?' + </p> + <p> + 'I haven't any friends.' + </p> + <p> + 'You haven't any friends! That settles it. You must take him back.' + </p> + <p> + 'I couldn't think of it.' + </p> + <p> + 'Of course you must take him back at once.' + </p> + <p> + 'I really couldn't.' + </p> + <p> + 'You must.' + </p> + <p> + 'I won't.' + </p> + <p> + 'But, good gracious, how do you suppose I should feel, knowing that you + were all alone and that I had sneaked your—your ewe lamb, as it + were?' + </p> + <p> + 'And how do you suppose I should feel if your play failed simply for lack + of a black cat?' + </p> + <p> + He started, and ran his fingers through his rough hair in an overwrought + manner. + </p> + <p> + 'Solomon couldn't have solved this problem,' he said. 'How would it be—it + seems the only possible way out—if you were to retain a sort of + managerial right in him? Couldn't you sometimes step across and chat with + him—and me, incidentally—over here? I'm very nearly as + lonesome as you are. Chicago is my home. I hardly know a soul in New + York.' + </p> + <p> + Her solitary life in the big city had forced upon Elizabeth the ability to + form instantaneous judgements on the men she met. She flashed a glance at + the young man and decided in his favour. + </p> + <p> + 'It's very kind of you,' she said. 'I should love to. I want to hear all + about your play. I write myself, you know, in a very small way, so a + successful playwright is Someone to me.' + </p> + <p> + 'I wish I were a successful playwright.' + </p> + <p> + 'Well, you are having the first play you have ever written produced on + Broadway. That's pretty wonderful.' + </p> + <p> + ''M—yes,' said the young man. It seemed to Elizabeth that he spoke + doubtfully, and this modesty consolidated the favourable impression she + had formed. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + The gods are just. For every ill which they inflict they also supply a + compensation. It seems good to them that individuals in big cities shall + be lonely, but they have so arranged that, if one of these individuals + does at last contrive to seek out and form a friendship with another, that + friendship shall grow more swiftly than the tepid acquaintanceships of + those on whom the icy touch of loneliness has never fallen. Within a week + Elizabeth was feeling that she had known this James Renshaw Boyd all her + life. + </p> + <p> + And yet there was a tantalizing incompleteness about his personal + reminiscences. Elizabeth was one of those persons who like to begin a + friendship with a full statement of their position, their previous life, + and the causes which led up to their being in this particular spot at this + particular time. At their next meeting, before he had had time to say much + on his own account, she had told him of her life in the small Canadian + town where she had passed the early part of her life; of the rich and + unexpected aunt who had sent her to college for no particular reason that + anyone could ascertain except that she enjoyed being unexpected; of the + legacy from this same aunt, far smaller than might have been hoped for, + but sufficient to send a grateful Elizabeth to New York, to try her luck + there; of editors, magazines, manuscripts refused or accepted, plots for + stories; of life in general, as lived down where the Arch spans Fifth + Avenue and the lighted cross of the Judson shines by night on Washington + Square. + </p> + <p> + Ceasing eventually, she waited for him to begin; and he did not begin—not, + that is to say, in the sense the word conveyed to Elizabeth. He spoke + briefly of college, still more briefly of Chicago—which city he + appeared to regard with a distaste that made Lot's attitude towards the + Cities of the Plain almost kindly by comparison. Then, as if he had + fulfilled the demands of the most exacting inquisitor in the matter of + personal reminiscence, he began to speak of the play. + </p> + <p> + The only facts concerning him to which Elizabeth could really have sworn + with a clear conscience at the end of the second week of their + acquaintance were that he was very poor, and that this play meant + everything to him. + </p> + <p> + The statement that it meant everything to him insinuated itself so + frequently into his conversation that it weighed on Elizabeth's mind like + a burden, and by degrees she found herself giving the play place of honour + in her thoughts over and above her own little ventures. With this + stupendous thing hanging in the balance, it seemed almost wicked of her to + devote a moment to wondering whether the editor of an evening paper, who + had half promised to give her the entrancing post of Adviser to the + Lovelorn on his journal, would fulfil that half-promise. + </p> + <p> + At an early stage in their friendship the young man had told her the plot + of the piece; and if he had not unfortunately forgotten several important + episodes and had to leap back to them across a gulf of one or two acts, + and if he had referred to his characters by name instead of by such + descriptions as 'the fellow who's in love with the girl—not + what's-his-name but the other chap'—she would no doubt have got that + mental half-Nelson on it which is such a help towards the proper + understanding of a four-act comedy. As it was, his precis had left her a + little vague; but she said it was perfectly splendid, and he said did she + really think so. And she said yes, she did, and they were both happy. + </p> + <p> + Rehearsals seemed to prey on his spirits a good deal. He attended them + with the pathetic regularity of the young dramatist, but they appeared to + bring him little balm. Elizabeth generally found him steeped in gloom, and + then she would postpone the recital, to which she had been looking + forward, of whatever little triumph she might have happened to win, and + devote herself to the task of cheering him up. If women were wonderful in + no other way, they would be wonderful for their genius for listening to + shop instead of talking it. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth was feeling more than a little proud of the way in which her + judgement of this young man was being justified. Life in Bohemian New York + had left her decidedly wary of strange young men, not formally introduced; + her faith in human nature had had to undergo much straining. Wolves in + sheep's clothing were common objects of the wayside in her unprotected + life; and perhaps her chief reason for appreciating this friendship was + the feeling of safety which it gave her. + </p> + <p> + Their relations, she told herself, were so splendidly unsentimental. There + was no need for that silent defensiveness which had come to seem almost an + inevitable accompaniment to dealings with the opposite sex. James Boyd, + she felt, she could trust; and it was wonderful how soothing the reflexion + was. + </p> + <p> + And that was why, when the thing happened, it so shocked and frightened + her. + </p> + <p> + It had been one of their quiet evenings. Of late they had fallen into the + habit of sitting for long periods together without speaking. But it had + differed from other quiet evenings through the fact that Elizabeth's + silence hid a slight but well-defined feeling of injury. Usually she sat + happy with her thoughts, but tonight she was ruffled. She had a grievance. + </p> + <p> + That afternoon the editor of the evening paper, whose angelic status not + even a bald head and an absence of wings and harp could conceal, had + definitely informed her that the man who had conducted the column hitherto + having resigned, the post of Heloise Milton, official adviser to readers + troubled with affairs of the heart, was hers; and he looked to her to + justify the daring experiment of letting a woman handle so responsible a + job. Imagine how Napoleon felt after Austerlitz, picture Colonel Goethale + contemplating the last spadeful of dirt from the Panama Canal, try to + visualize a suburban householder who sees a flower emerging from the soil + in which he has inserted a packet of guaranteed seeds, and you will have + some faint conception how Elizabeth felt as those golden words proceeded + from that editor's lips. For the moment Ambition was sated. The years, + rolling by, might perchance open out other vistas; but for the moment she + was content. + </p> + <p> + Into James Boyd's apartment she had walked, stepping on fleecy clouds of + rapture, to tell him the great news. + </p> + <p> + She told him the great news. + </p> + <p> + He said, 'Ah!' + </p> + <p> + There are many ways of saying 'Ah!' You can put joy, amazement, rapture + into it; you can also make it sound as if it were a reply to a remark on + the weather. James Boyd made it sound just like that. His hair was + rumpled, his brow contracted, and his manner absent. The impression he + gave Elizabeth was that he had barely heard her. The next moment he was + deep in a recital of the misdemeanours of the actors now rehearsing for + his four-act comedy. The star had done this, the leading woman that, the + juvenile something else. For the first time Elizabeth listened + unsympathetically. + </p> + <p> + The time came when speech failed James Boyd, and he sat back in his chair, + brooding. Elizabeth, cross and wounded, sat in hers, nursing Joseph. And + so, in a dim light, time flowed by. + </p> + <p> + Just how it happened she never knew. One moment, peace; the next chaos. + One moment stillness; the next, Joseph hurtling through the air, all claws + and expletives, and herself caught in a clasp which shook the breath from + her. + </p> + <p> + One can dimly reconstruct James's train of thought. He is in despair; + things are going badly at the theatre, and life has lost its savour. His + eye, as he sits, is caught by Elizabeth's profile. It is a pretty—above + all, a soothing—profile. An almost painful sentimentality sweeps + over James Boyd. There she sits, his only friend in this cruel city. If + you argue that there is no necessity to spring at your only friend and + nearly choke her, you argue soundly; the point is well taken. But James + Boyd was beyond the reach of sound argument. Much rehearsing had frayed + his nerves to ribbons. One may say that he was not responsible for his + actions. + </p> + <p> + That is the case for James. Elizabeth, naturally, was not in a position to + take a wide and understanding view of it. All she knew was that James had + played her false, abused her trust in him. For a moment, such was the + shock of the surprise, she was not conscious of indignation—or, + indeed, of any sensation except the purely physical one of + semi-strangulation. Then, flushed, and more bitterly angry than she could + ever have imagined herself capable of being, she began to struggle. She + tore herself away from him. Coming on top of her grievance, this thing + filled her with a sudden, very vivid hatred of James. At the back of her + anger, feeding it, was the humiliating thought that it was all her own + fault, that by her presence there she had invited this. + </p> + <p> + She groped her way to the door. Something was writhing and struggling + inside her, blinding her eyes, and robbing her of speech. She was only + conscious of a desire to be alone, to be back and safe in her own home. + She was aware that he was speaking, but the words did not reach her. She + found the door, and pulled it open. She felt a hand on her arm, but she + shook it off. And then she was back behind her own door, alone and at + liberty to contemplate at leisure the ruins of that little temple of + friendship which she had built up so carefully and in which she had been + so happy. + </p> + <p> + The broad fact that she would never forgive him was for a while her only + coherent thought. To this succeeded the determination that she would never + forgive herself. And having thus placed beyond the pale the only two + friends she had in New York, she was free to devote herself without + hindrance to the task of feeling thoroughly lonely and wretched. + </p> + <p> + The shadows deepened. Across the street a sort of bubbling explosion, + followed by a jerky glare that shot athwart the room, announced the + lighting of the big arc-lamp on the opposite side-walk. She resented it, + being in the mood for undiluted gloom; but she had not the energy to pull + down the shade and shut it out. She sat where she was, thinking thoughts + that hurt. + </p> + <p> + The door of the apartment opposite opened. There was a single ring at her + bell. She did not answer it. There came another. She sat where she was, + motionless. The door closed again. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + The days dragged by. Elizabeth lost count of time. Each day had its + duties, which ended when you went to bed; that was all she knew—except + that life had become very grey and very lonely, far lonelier even than in + the time when James Boyd was nothing to her but an occasional sound of + footsteps. + </p> + <p> + Of James she saw nothing. It is not difficult to avoid anyone in New York, + even when you live just across the way. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + It was Elizabeth's first act each morning, immediately on awaking, to open + her front door and gather in whatever lay outside it. Sometimes there + would be mail; and always, unless Francis, as he sometimes did, got mixed + and absent-minded, the morning milk and the morning paper. + </p> + <p> + One morning, some two weeks after that evening of which she tried not to + think, Elizabeth, opening the door, found immediately outside it a folded + scrap of paper. She unfolded it. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>I am just off to the theatre. Won't you wish me luck? I feel sure + it is going to be a hit. Joseph is purring like a dynamo.</i>—J.R.B. +</pre> + <p> + In the early morning the brain works sluggishly. For an instant Elizabeth + stood looking at the words uncomprehendingly; then, with a leaping of the + heart, their meaning came home to her. He must have left this at her door + on the previous night. The play had been produced! And somewhere in the + folded interior of the morning paper at her feet must be the opinion of + 'One in Authority' concerning it! + </p> + <p> + Dramatic criticisms have this peculiarity, that if you are looking for + them, they burrow and hide like rabbits. They dodge behind murders; they + duck behind baseball scores; they lie up snugly behind the Wall Street + news. It was a full minute before Elizabeth found what she sought, and the + first words she read smote her like a blow. + </p> + <p> + In that vein of delightful facetiousness which so endears him to all + followers and perpetrators of the drama, the 'One in Authority' rent and + tore James Boyd's play. He knocked James Boyd's play down, and kicked it; + he jumped on it with large feet; he poured cold water on it, and chopped + it into little bits. He merrily disembowelled James Boyd's play. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth quivered from head to foot. She caught at the door-post to + steady herself. In a flash all her resentment had gone, wiped away and + annihilated like a mist before the sun. She loved him, and she knew now + that she had always loved him. + </p> + <p> + It took her two seconds to realize that the 'One in Authority' was a + miserable incompetent, incapable of recognizing merit when it was + displayed before him. It took her five minutes to dress. It took her a + minute to run downstairs and out to the news-stand on the corner of the + street. Here, with a lavishness which charmed and exhilarated the + proprietor, she bought all the other papers which he could supply. + </p> + <p> + Moments of tragedy are best described briefly. Each of the papers noticed + the play, and each of them damned it with uncompromising heartiness. The + criticisms varied only in tone. One cursed with relish and gusto; another + with a certain pity; a third with a kind of wounded superiority, as of one + compelled against his will to speak of something unspeakable; but the + meaning of all was the same. James Boyd's play was a hideous failure. + </p> + <p> + Back to the house sped Elizabeth, leaving the organs of a free people to + be gathered up, smoothed, and replaced on the stand by the now more than + ever charmed proprietor. Up the stairs she sped, and arriving breathlessly + at James's door rang the bell. + </p> + <p> + Heavy footsteps came down the passage; crushed, disheartened footsteps; + footsteps that sent a chill to Elizabeth's heart. The door opened. James + Boyd stood before her, heavy-eyed and haggard. In his eyes was despair, + and on his chin the blue growth of beard of the man from whom the mailed + fist of Fate has smitten the energy to perform his morning shave. + </p> + <p> + Behind him, littering the floor, were the morning papers; and at the sight + of them Elizabeth broke down. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, Jimmy, darling!' she cried; and the next moment she was in his arms, + and for a space time stood still. + </p> + <p> + How long afterwards it was she never knew; but eventually James Boyd + spoke. + </p> + <p> + 'If you'll marry me,' he said hoarsely, 'I don't care a hang.' + </p> + <p> + 'Jimmy, darling!' said Elizabeth, 'of course I will.' + </p> + <p> + Past them, as they stood there, a black streak shot silently, and + disappeared out of the door. Joseph was leaving the sinking ship. + </p> + <p> + 'Let him go, the fraud,' said Elizabeth bitterly. 'I shall never believe + in black cats again.' + </p> + <p> + But James was not of this opinion. + </p> + <p> + 'Joseph has brought me all the luck I need.' + </p> + <p> + 'But the play meant everything to you.' + </p> + <p> + 'It did then.' + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth hesitated. + </p> + <p> + 'Jimmy, dear, it's all right, you know. I know you will make a fortune out + of your next play, and I've heaps for us both to live on till you make + good. We can manage splendidly on my salary from the <i>Evening Chronicle</i>.' + </p> + <p> + 'What! Have you got a job on a New York paper?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, I told you about it. I am doing Heloise Milton. Why, what's the + matter?' + </p> + <p> + He groaned hollowly. + </p> + <p> + 'And I was thinking that you would come back to Chicago with me!' + </p> + <p> + 'But I will. Of course I will. What did you think I meant to do?' + </p> + <p> + 'What! Give up a real job in New York!' He blinked. 'This isn't really + happening. I'm dreaming.' + </p> + <p> + 'But, Jimmy, are you sure you can get work in Chicago? Wouldn't it be + better to stay on here, where all the managers are, and—' + </p> + <p> + He shook his head. + </p> + <p> + 'I think it's time I told you about myself,' he said. 'Am I sure I can get + work in Chicago? I am, worse luck. Darling, have you in your more material + moments ever toyed with a Boyd's Premier Breakfast-Sausage or kept body + and soul together with a slice off a Boyd's Excelsior Home-Cured Ham? My + father makes them, and the tragedy of my life is that he wants me to help + him at it. This was my position. I loathed the family business as much as + dad loved it. I had a notion—a fool notion, as it has turned out—that + I could make good in the literary line. I've scribbled in a sort of way + ever since I was in college. When the time came for me to join the firm, I + put it to dad straight. I said, "Give me a chance, one good, square + chance, to see if the divine fire is really there, or if somebody has just + turned on the alarm as a practical joke." And we made a bargain. I had + written this play, and we made it a test-case. We fixed it up that dad + should put up the money to give it a Broadway production. If it succeeded, + all right; I'm the young Gus Thomas, and may go ahead in the literary + game. If it's a fizzle, off goes my coat, and I abandon pipe-dreams of + literary triumphs and start in as the guy who put the Co. in Boyd & + Co. Well, events have proved that I <i>am</i> the guy, and now I'm going + to keep my part of the bargain just as squarely as dad kept his. I know + quite well that if I refused to play fair and chose to stick on here in + New York and try again, dad would go on staking me. That's the sort of man + he is. But I wouldn't do it for a million Broadway successes. I've had my + chance, and I've foozled; and now I'm going back to make him happy by + being a real live member of the firm. And the queer thing about it is that + last night I hated the idea, and this morning, now that I've got you, I + almost look forward to it.' + </p> + <p> + He gave a little shiver. + </p> + <p> + 'And yet—I don't know. There's something rather gruesome still to my + near-artist soul in living in luxury on murdered piggies. Have you ever + seen them persuading a pig to play the stellar role in a Boyd Premier + Breakfast-Sausage? It's pretty ghastly. They string them up by their hind + legs, and—b-r-r-r-r!' + </p> + <p> + 'Never mind,' said Elizabeth soothingly. 'Perhaps they don't mind it + really.' + </p> + <p> + 'Well, I don't know,' said James Boyd, doubtfully. 'I've watched them at + it, and I'm bound to say they didn't seem any too well pleased.' + </p> + <p> + 'Try not to think of it.' + </p> + <p> + 'Very well,' said James dutifully. + </p> + <p> + There came a sudden shout from the floor above, and on the heels of it a + shock-haired youth in pyjamas burst into the apartment. + </p> + <p> + 'Now what?' said James. 'By the way, Miss Herrold, my fiancee; Mr Briggs—Paul + Axworthy Briggs, sometimes known as the Boy Novelist. What's troubling + you, Paul?' + </p> + <p> + Mr Briggs was stammering with excitement. + </p> + <p> + 'Jimmy,' cried the Boy Novelist, 'what do you think has happened! A black + cat has just come into my apartment. I heard him mewing outside the door, + and opened it, and he streaked in. And I started my new novel last night! + Say, you <i>do</i> believe this thing of black cats bringing luck, don't + you?' + </p> + <p> + 'Luck! My lad, grapple that cat to your soul with hoops of steel. He's the + greatest little luck-bringer in New York. He was boarding with me till + this morning.' + </p> + <p> + 'Then—by Jove! I nearly forgot to ask—your play was a hit? I + haven't seen the papers yet' + </p> + <p> + 'Well, when you see them, don't read the notices. It was the worst frost + Broadway has seen since Columbus's time.' + </p> + <p> + 'But—I don't understand.' + </p> + <p> + 'Don't worry. You don't have to. Go back and fill that cat with fish, or + she'll be leaving you. I suppose you left the door open?' + </p> + <p> + 'My God!' said the Boy Novelist, paling, and dashed for the door. + </p> + <p> + 'Do you think Joseph <i>will</i> bring him luck?' said Elizabeth, + thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + 'It depends what sort of luck you mean. Joseph seems to work in devious + ways. If I know Joseph's methods, Briggs's new novel will be rejected by + every publisher in the city; and then, when he is sitting in his + apartment, wondering which of his razors to end himself with, there will + be a ring at the bell, and in will come the most beautiful girl in the + world, and then—well, then, take it from me, he will be all right.' + </p> + <p> + 'He won't mind about the novel?' + </p> + <p> + 'Not in the least.' + </p> + <p> + 'Not even if it means that he will have to go away and kill pigs and + things.' + </p> + <p> + 'About the pig business, dear. I've noticed a slight tendency in you to + let yourself get rather morbid about it. I know they string them up by the + hind-legs, and all that sort of thing; but you must remember that a pig + looks at these things from a different standpoint. My belief is that the + pigs like it. Try not to think of it.' + </p> + <p> + 'Very well,' said Elizabeth, dutifully. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE ROMANCE OF AN UGLY POLICEMAN + </h2> + <p> + Crossing the Thames by Chelsea Bridge, the wanderer through London finds + himself in pleasant Battersea. Rounding the Park, where the female of the + species wanders with its young by the ornamental water where the wild-fowl + are, he comes upon a vast road. One side of this is given up to Nature, + the other to Intellect. On the right, green trees stretch into the middle + distance; on the left, endless blocks of residential flats. It is + Battersea Park Road, the home of the cliff-dwellers. + </p> + <p> + Police-constable Plimmer's beat embraced the first quarter of a mile of + the cliffs. It was his duty to pace in the measured fashion of the London + policeman along the front of them, turn to the right, turn to the left, + and come back along the road which ran behind them. In this way he was + enabled to keep the king's peace over no fewer than four blocks of + mansions. + </p> + <p> + It did not require a deal of keeping. Battersea may have its tough + citizens, but they do not live in Battersea Park Road. Battersea Park + Road's speciality is Brain, not Crime. Authors, musicians, newspaper men, + actors, and artists are the inhabitants of these mansions. A child could + control them. They assault and batter nothing but pianos; they steal + nothing but ideas; they murder nobody except Chopin and Beethoven. Not + through these shall an ambitious young constable achieve promotion. + </p> + <p> + At this conclusion Edward Plimmer arrived within forty-eight hours of his + installation. He recognized the flats for what they were—just so + many layers of big-brained blamelessness. And there was not even the + chance of a burglary. No burglar wastes his time burgling authors. + Constable Plimmer reconciled his mind to the fact that his term in + Battersea must be looked on as something in the nature of a vacation. + </p> + <p> + He was not altogether sorry. At first, indeed, he found the new atmosphere + soothing. His last beat had been in the heart of tempestuous Whitechapel, + where his arms had ached from the incessant hauling of wiry inebriates to + the station, and his shins had revolted at the kicks showered upon them by + haughty spirits impatient of restraint. Also, one Saturday night, three + friends of a gentleman whom he was trying to induce not to murder his wife + had so wrought upon him that, when he came out of hospital, his already + homely appearance was further marred by a nose which resembled the gnarled + root of a tree. All these things had taken from the charm of Whitechapel, + and the cloistral peace of Battersea Park Road was grateful and + comforting. + </p> + <p> + And just when the unbroken calm had begun to lose its attraction and + dreams of action were once more troubling him, a new interest entered his + life; and with its coming he ceased to wish to be removed from Battersea. + He fell in love. + </p> + <p> + It happened at the back of York Mansions. Anything that ever happened, + happened there; for it is at the back of these blocks of flats that the + real life is. At the front you never see anything, except an occasional + tousle-headed young man smoking a pipe; but at the back, where the cooks + come out to parley with the tradesmen, there is at certain hours of the + day quite a respectable activity. Pointed dialogues about yesterday's eggs + and the toughness of Saturday's meat are conducted <i>fortissimo</i> + between cheerful youths in the road and satirical young women in print + dresses, who come out of their kitchen doors on to little balconies. The + whole thing has a pleasing Romeo and Juliet touch. Romeo rattles up in his + cart. 'Sixty-four!' he cries. 'Sixty-fower, sixty-fower, sixty-fow—' + The kitchen door opens, and Juliet emerges. She eyes Romeo without any + great show of affection. 'Are you Perkins and Blissett?' she inquires + coldly. Romeo admits it. 'Two of them yesterday's eggs was bad.' Romeo + protests. He defends his eggs. They were fresh from the hen; he stood over + her while she laid them. Juliet listens frigidly. 'I <i>don't</i> think,' + she says. 'Well, half of sugar, one marmalade, and two of breakfast + bacon,' she adds, and ends the argument. There is a rattling as of a + steamer weighing anchor; the goods go up in the tradesman's lift; Juliet + collects them, and exits, banging the door. The little drama is over. + </p> + <p> + Such is life at the back of York Mansions—a busy, throbbing thing. + </p> + <p> + The peace of afternoon had fallen upon the world one day towards the end + of Constable Plimmer's second week of the simple life, when his attention + was attracted by a whistle. It was followed by a musical 'Hi!' + </p> + <p> + Constable Plimmer looked up. On the kitchen balcony of a second-floor flat + a girl was standing. As he took her in with a slow and exhaustive gaze, he + was aware of strange thrills. There was something about this girl which + excited Constable Plimmer. I do not say that she was a beauty; I do not + claim that you or I would have raved about her; I merely say that + Constable Plimmer thought she was All Right. + </p> + <p> + 'Miss?' he said. + </p> + <p> + 'Got the time about you?' said the girl. 'All the clocks have stopped.' + </p> + <p> + 'The time,' said Constable Plimmer, consulting his watch, 'wants exactly + ten minutes to four.' + </p> + <p> + 'Thanks.' + </p> + <p> + 'Not at all, miss.' + </p> + <p> + The girl was inclined for conversation. It was that gracious hour of the + day when you have cleared lunch and haven't got to think of dinner yet, + and have a bit of time to draw a breath or two. She leaned over the + balcony and smiled pleasantly. + </p> + <p> + 'If you want to know the time, ask a pleeceman,' she said. 'You been on + this beat long?' + </p> + <p> + 'Just short of two weeks, miss.' + </p> + <p> + 'I been here three days.' + </p> + <p> + 'I hope you like it, miss.' + </p> + <p> + 'So-so. The milkman's a nice boy.' + </p> + <p> + Constable Plimmer did not reply. He was busy silently hating the milkman. + He knew him—one of those good-looking blighters; one of those oiled + and curled perishers; one of those blooming fascinators who go about the + world making things hard for ugly, honest men with loving hearts. Oh, yes, + he knew the milkman. + </p> + <p> + 'He's a rare one with his jokes,' said the girl. + </p> + <p> + Constable Plimmer went on not replying. He was perfectly aware that the + milkman was a rare one with his jokes. He had heard him. The way girls + fell for anyone with the gift of the gab—that was what embittered + Constable Plimmer. + </p> + <p> + 'He—' she giggled. 'He calls me Little Pansy-Face.' + </p> + <p> + 'If you'll excuse me, miss,' said Constable Plimmer coldly, 'I'll have to + be getting along on my beat.' + </p> + <p> + Little Pansy-Face! And you couldn't arrest him for it! What a world! + Constable Plimmer paced upon his way, a blue-clad volcano. + </p> + <p> + It is a terrible thing to be obsessed by a milkman. To Constable Plimmer's + disordered imagination it seemed that, dating from this interview, the + world became one solid milkman. Wherever he went, he seemed to run into + this milkman. If he was in the front road, this milkman—Alf Brooks, + it appeared, was his loathsome name—came rattling past with his + jingling cans as if he were Apollo driving his chariot. If he was round at + the back, there was Alf, his damned tenor doing duets with the balconies. + And all this in defiance of the known law of natural history that milkmen + do not come out after five in the morning. This irritated Constable + Plimmer. You talk of a man 'going home with the milk' when you mean that + he sneaks in in the small hours of the morning. If all milkmen were like + Alf Brooks the phrase was meaningless. + </p> + <p> + He brooded. The unfairness of Fate was souring him. A man expects trouble + in his affairs of the heart from soldiers and sailors, and to be cut out + by even a postman is to fall before a worthy foe; but milkmen—no! + Only grocers' assistants and telegraph-boys were intended by Providence to + fear milkmen. + </p> + <p> + Yet here was Alf Brooks, contrary to all rules, the established pet of the + mansions. Bright eyes shone from balconies when his 'Milk—oo—oo' + sounded. Golden voices giggled delightedly at his bellowed chaff. And + Ellen Brown, whom he called Little Pansy-Face, was definitely in love with + him. + </p> + <p> + They were keeping company. They were walking out. This crushing truth + Edward Plimmer learned from Ellen herself. + </p> + <p> + She had slipped out to mail a letter at the pillar-box on the corner, and + she reached it just as the policeman arrived there in the course of his + patrol. + </p> + <p> + Nervousness impelled Constable Plimmer to be arch. + </p> + <p> + ''Ullo, 'ullo, 'ullo,' he said. 'Posting love-letters?' + </p> + <p> + 'What, me? This is to the Police Commissioner, telling him you're no + good.' + </p> + <p> + 'I'll give it to him. Him and me are taking supper tonight.' + </p> + <p> + Nature had never intended Constable Plimmer to be playful. He was at his + worst when he rollicked. He snatched at the letter with what was meant to + be a debonair gaiety, and only succeeded in looking like an angry gorilla. + The girl uttered a startled squeak. + </p> + <p> + The letter was addressed to Mr A. Brooks. + </p> + <p> + Playfulness, after this, was at a discount. The girl was frightened and + angry, and he was scowling with mingled jealousy and dismay. + </p> + <p> + 'Ho!' he said. 'Ho! Mr A. Brooks!' + </p> + <p> + Ellen Brown was a nice girl, but she had a temper, and there were moments + when her manners lacked rather noticeably the repose which stamps the + caste of Vere de Vere. + </p> + <p> + 'Well, what about it?' she cried. 'Can't one write to the young gentleman + one's keeping company with, without having to get permission from every—' + She paused to marshal her forces from the assault. 'Without having to get + permission from every great, ugly, red-faced copper with big feet and a + broken nose in London?' + </p> + <p> + Constable Plimmer's wrath faded into a dull unhappiness. Yes, she was + right. That was the correct description. That was how an impartial + Scotland Yard would be compelled to describe him, if ever he got lost. + 'Missing. A great, ugly, red-faced copper with big feet and a broken + nose.' They would never find him otherwise. + </p> + <p> + 'Perhaps you object to my walking out with Alf? Perhaps you've got + something against him? I suppose you're jealous!' + </p> + <p> + She threw in the last suggestion entirely in a sporting spirit. She loved + battle, and she had a feeling that this one was going to finish far too + quickly. To prolong it, she gave him this opening. There were a dozen ways + in which he might answer, each more insulting than the last; and then, + when he had finished, she could begin again. These little encounters, she + held, sharpened the wits, stimulated the circulation, and kept one out in + the open air. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes,' said Constable Plimmer. + </p> + <p> + It was the one reply she was not expecting. For direct abuse, for sarcasm, + for dignity, for almost any speech beginning, 'What! Jealous of you. Why—' + she was prepared. But this was incredible. It disabled her, as the wild + thrust of an unskilled fencer will disable a master of the rapier. She + searched in her mind and found that she had nothing to say. + </p> + <p> + There was a tense moment in which she found him, looking her in the eyes, + strangely less ugly than she had supposed, and then he was gone, rolling + along on his beat with that air which all policemen must achieve, of + having no feelings at all, and—as long as it behaves itself—no + interest in the human race. + </p> + <p> + Ellen posted her letter. She dropped it into the box thoughtfully, and + thoughtfully returned to the flat. She looked over her shoulder, but + Constable Plimmer was out of sight. + </p> + <p> + Peaceful Battersea began to vex Constable Plimmer. To a man crossed in + love, action is the one anodyne; and Battersea gave no scope for action. + He dreamed now of the old Whitechapel days as a man dreams of the joys of + his childhood. He reflected bitterly that a fellow never knows when he is + well off in this world. Any one of those myriad drunk and disorderlies + would have been as balm to him now. He was like a man who has run through + a fortune and in poverty eats the bread of regret. Amazedly he recollected + that in those happy days he had grumbled at his lot. He remembered + confiding to a friend in the station-house, as he rubbed with liniment the + spot on his right shin where the well-shod foot of a joyous costermonger + had got home, that this sort of thing—meaning militant costermongers—was + 'a bit too thick'. A bit too thick! Why, he would pay one to kick him now. + And as for the three loyal friends of the would-be wife-murderer who had + broken his nose, if he saw them coming round the corner he would welcome + them as brothers. + </p> + <p> + And Battersea Park Road dozed on—calm, intellectual, law-abiding. + </p> + <p> + A friend of his told him that there had once been a murder in one of these + flats. He did not believe it. If any of these white-corpuscled clams ever + swatted a fly, it was much as they could do. The thing was ridiculous on + the face of it. If they were capable of murder, they would have murdered + Alf Brooks. + </p> + <p> + He stood in the road, and looked up at the placid buildings resentfully. + </p> + <p> + 'Grr-rr-rr!' he growled, and kicked the side-walk. + </p> + <p> + And, even as he spoke, on the balcony of a second-floor flat there + appeared a woman, an elderly, sharp-faced woman, who waved her arms and + screamed, 'Policeman! Officer! Come up here! Come up here at once!' + </p> + <p> + Up the stone stairs went Constable Plimmer at the run. His mind was alert + and questioning. Murder? Hardly murder, perhaps. If it had been that, the + woman would have said so. She did not look the sort of woman who would be + reticent about a thing like that. Well, anyway, it was something; and + Edward Plimmer had been long enough in Battersea to be thankful for small + favours. An intoxicated husband would be better than nothing. At least he + would be something that a fellow could get his hands on to and throw about + a bit. + </p> + <p> + The sharp-faced woman was waiting for him at the door. He followed her + into the flat. + </p> + <p> + 'What is it, ma'am?' + </p> + <p> + 'Theft! Our cook has been stealing!' + </p> + <p> + She seemed sufficiently excited about it, but Constable Plimmer felt only + depression and disappointment. A stout admirer of the sex, he hated + arresting women. Moreover, to a man in the mood to tackle anarchists with + bombs, to be confronted with petty theft is galling. But duty was duty. He + produced his notebook. + </p> + <p> + 'She is in her room. I locked her in. I know she has taken my brooch. We + have missed money. You must search her.' + </p> + <p> + 'Can't do that, ma'am. Female searcher at the station.' + </p> + <p> + 'Well, you can search her box.' + </p> + <p> + A little, bald, nervous man in spectacles appeared as if out of a trap. As + a matter of fact, he had been there all the time, standing by the + bookcase; but he was one of those men you do not notice till they move and + speak. + </p> + <p> + 'Er—Jane.' + </p> + <p> + 'Well, Henry?' + </p> + <p> + The little man seemed to swallow something. + </p> + <p> + 'I—I think that you may possibly be wronging Ellen. It is just + possible, as regards the money—' He smiled in a ghastly manner and + turned to the policeman. 'Er—officer, I ought to tell you that my + wife—ah—holds the purse-strings of our little home; and it is + just possible that in an absent-minded moment <i>I</i> may have—' + </p> + <p> + 'Do you mean to tell me, Henry, that <i>you</i> have been taking my + money?' + </p> + <p> + 'My dear, it is just possible that in the abs—' + </p> + <p> + 'How often?' + </p> + <p> + He wavered perceptibly. Conscience was beginning to lose its grip. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, not often.' + </p> + <p> + 'How often? More than once?' + </p> + <p> + Conscience had shot its bolt. The little man gave up the Struggle. + </p> + <p> + 'No, no, not more than once. Certainly not more than once.' + </p> + <p> + 'You ought not to have done it at all. We will talk about that later. It + doesn't alter the fact that Ellen is a thief. I have missed money half a + dozen times. Besides that, there's the brooch. Step this way, officer.' + </p> + <p> + Constable Plimmer stepped that way—his face a mask. He knew who was + waiting for them behind the locked door at the end of the passage. But it + was his duty to look as if he were stuffed, and he did so. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + She was sitting on her bed, dressed for the street. It was her afternoon + out, the sharp-faced woman had informed Constable Plimmer, attributing the + fact that she had discovered the loss of the brooch in time to stop her a + direct interposition of Providence. She was pale, and there was a hunted + look in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + 'You wicked girl, where is my brooch?' + </p> + <p> + She held it out without a word. She had been holding it in her hand. + </p> + <p> + 'You see, officer!' + </p> + <p> + 'I wasn't stealing of it. I 'adn't but borrowed it. I was going to put it + back.' + </p> + <p> + 'Stuff and nonsense! Borrow it, indeed! What for?' + </p> + <p> + 'I—I wanted to look nice.' + </p> + <p> + The woman gave a short laugh. Constable Plimmer's face was a mere block of + wood, expressionless. + </p> + <p> + 'And what about the money I've been missing? I suppose you'll say you only + borrowed that?' + </p> + <p> + 'I never took no money.' + </p> + <p> + 'Well, it's gone, and money doesn't go by itself. Take her to the + police-station, officer.' + </p> + <p> + Constable Plimmer raised heavy eyes. + </p> + <p> + 'You make a charge, ma'am?' + </p> + <p> + 'Bless the man! Of course I make a charge. What did you think I asked you + to step in for?' + </p> + <p> + 'Will you come along, miss?' said Constable Plimmer. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + Out in the street the sun shone gaily down on peaceful Battersea. It was + the hour when children walk abroad with their nurses; and from the green + depths of the Park came the sound of happy voices. A cat stretched itself + in the sunshine and eyed the two as they passed with lazy content. + </p> + <p> + They walked in silence. Constable Plimmer was a man with a rigid sense of + what was and what was not fitting behaviour in a policeman on duty: he + aimed always at a machine-like impersonality. There were times when it + came hard, but he did his best. He strode on, his chin up and his eyes + averted. And beside him— + </p> + <p> + Well, she was not crying. That was something. + </p> + <p> + Round the corner, beautiful in light flannel, gay at both ends with a new + straw hat and the yellowest shoes in South-West London, scented, curled, a + prince among young men, stood Alf Brooks. He was feeling piqued. When he + said three o'clock, he meant three o'clock. It was now three-fifteen, and + she had not appeared. Alf Brooks swore an impatient oath, and the thought + crossed his mind, as it had sometimes crossed it before, that Ellen Brown + was not the only girl in the world. + </p> + <p> + 'Give her another five min—' + </p> + <p> + Ellen Brown, with escort, at that moment turned the corner. + </p> + <p> + Rage was the first emotion which the spectacle aroused in Alf Brooks. + Girls who kept a fellow waiting about while they fooled around with + policemen were no girls for him. They could understand once and for all + that he was a man who could pick and choose. + </p> + <p> + And then an electric shock set the world dancing mistily before his eyes. + This policeman was wearing his belt; he was on duty. And Ellen's face was + not the face of a girl strolling with the Force for pleasure. + </p> + <p> + His heart stopped, and then began to race. His cheeks flushed a dusky + crimson. His jaw fell, and a prickly warmth glowed in the parts about his + spine. + </p> + <p> + 'Goo'!' + </p> + <p> + His fingers sought his collar. + </p> + <p> + 'Crumbs!' + </p> + <p> + He was hot all over. + </p> + <p> + 'Goo' Lor'! She's been pinched!' + </p> + <p> + He tugged at his collar. It was choking him. + </p> + <p> + Alf Brooks did not show up well in the first real crisis which life had + forced upon him. That must be admitted. Later, when it was over, and he + had leisure for self-examination, he admitted it to himself. But even then + he excused himself by asking Space in a blustering manner what else he + could ha' done. And if the question did not bring much balm to his soul at + the first time of asking, it proved wonderfully soothing on constant + repetition. He repeated it at intervals for the next two days, and by the + end of that time his cure was complete. On the third morning his 'Milk—oo—oo' + had regained its customary carefree ring, and he was feeling that he had + acted in difficult circumstances in the only possible manner. + </p> + <p> + Consider. He was Alf Brooks, well known and respected in the + neighbourhood; a singer in the choir on Sundays; owner of a milk-walk in + the most fashionable part of Battersea; to all practical purposes a public + man. Was he to recognize, in broad daylight and in open street, a girl who + walked with a policeman because she had to, a malefactor, a girl who had + been pinched? + </p> + <p> + Ellen, Constable Plimmer woodenly at her side, came towards him. She was + ten yards off—seven—five—three—Alf Brooks tilted + his hat over his eyes and walked past her, unseeing, a stranger. + </p> + <p> + He hurried on. He was conscious of a curious feeling that somebody was + just going to kick him, but he dared not look round. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + Constable Plimmer eyed the middle distance with an earnest gaze. His face + was redder than ever. Beneath his blue tunic strange emotions were at + work. Something seemed to be filling his throat. He tried to swallow it. + </p> + <p> + He stopped in his stride. The girl glanced up at him in a kind of dull, + questioning way. Their eyes met for the first time that afternoon, and it + seemed to Constable Plimmer that whatever it was that was interfering with + the inside of his throat had grown larger, and more unmanageable. + </p> + <p> + There was the misery of the stricken animal in her gaze. He had seen women + look like that in Whitechapel. The woman to whom, indirectly, he owed his + broken nose had looked like that. As his hand had fallen on the collar of + the man who was kicking her to death, he had seen her eyes. They were + Ellen's eyes, as she stood there now—tortured, crushed, yet + uncomplaining. + </p> + <p> + Constable Plimmer looked at Ellen, and Ellen looked at Constable Plimmer. + Down the street some children were playing with a dog. In one of the flats + a woman began to sing. + </p> + <p> + 'Hop it,' said Constable Plimmer. + </p> + <p> + He spoke gruffly. He found speech difficult. + </p> + <p> + The girl started. + </p> + <p> + 'What say?' + </p> + <p> + 'Hop it. Get along. Run away.' + </p> + <p> + 'What do you mean?' + </p> + <p> + Constable Plimmer scowled. His face was scarlet. His jaw protruded like a + granite break-water. + </p> + <p> + 'Go on,' he growled. 'Hop it. Tell him it was all a joke. I'll explain at + the station.' + </p> + <p> + Understanding seemed to come to her slowly. + </p> + <p> + 'Do you mean I'm to go?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes.' + </p> + <p> + 'What do you mean? You aren't going to take me to the station?' + </p> + <p> + 'No.' + </p> + <p> + She stared at him. Then, suddenly, she broke down, + </p> + <p> + 'He wouldn't look at me. He was ashamed of me. He pretended not to see + me.' + </p> + <p> + She leaned against the wall, her back shaking. + </p> + <p> + 'Well, run after him, and tell him it was all—' + </p> + <p> + 'No, no, no.' + </p> + <p> + Constable Plimmer looked morosely at the side-walk. He kicked it. + </p> + <p> + She turned. Her eyes were red, but she was no longer crying. Her chin had + a brave tilt. + </p> + <p> + 'I couldn't—not after what he did. Let's go along. I—I don't + care.' + </p> + <p> + She looked at him curiously. + </p> + <p> + 'Were you really going to have let me go?' + </p> + <p> + Constable Plimmer nodded. He was aware of her eyes searching his face, but + he did not meet them. + </p> + <p> + 'Why?' + </p> + <p> + He did not answer. + </p> + <p> + 'What would have happened to you, if you had have done?' + </p> + <p> + Constable Plimmer's scowl was of the stuff of which nightmares are made. + He kicked the unoffending side-walk with an increased viciousness. + </p> + <p> + 'Dismissed the Force,' he said curtly. + </p> + <p> + 'And sent to prison, too, I shouldn't wonder.' + </p> + <p> + 'Maybe.' + </p> + <p> + He heard her draw a deep breath, and silence fell upon them again. The dog + down the road had stopped barking. The woman in the flat had stopped + singing. They were curiously alone. + </p> + <p> + 'Would you have done all that for me?' she said. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes.' + </p> + <p> + 'Why?' + </p> + <p> + 'Because I don't think you ever did it. Stole that money, I mean. Nor the + brooch, neither.' + </p> + <p> + 'Was that all?' + </p> + <p> + 'What do you mean—all?' + </p> + <p> + 'Was that the only reason?' + </p> + <p> + He swung round on her, almost threateningly. + </p> + <p> + 'No,' he said hoarsely. 'No, it wasn't, and you know it wasn't. Well, if + you want it, you can have it. It was because I love you. There! Now I've + said it, and now you can go on and laugh at me as much as you want.' + </p> + <p> + 'I'm not laughing,' she said soberly. + </p> + <p> + 'You think I'm a fool!' + </p> + <p> + 'No, I don't.' + </p> + <p> + 'I'm nothing to you. <i>He's</i> the fellow you're stuck on.' + </p> + <p> + She gave a little shudder. + </p> + <p> + 'No.' + </p> + <p> + 'What do you mean?' + </p> + <p> + 'I've changed.' She paused. 'I think I shall have changed more by the time + I come out.' + </p> + <p> + 'Come out?' + </p> + <p> + 'Come out of prison.' + </p> + <p> + 'You're not going to prison.' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, I am.' + </p> + <p> + 'I won't take you.' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, you will. Think I'm going to let you get yourself in trouble like + that, to get me out of a fix? Not much.' + </p> + <p> + 'You hop it, like a good girl.' + </p> + <p> + 'Not me.' + </p> + <p> + He stood looking at her like a puzzled bear. + </p> + <p> + 'They can't eat me.' + </p> + <p> + 'They'll cut off all of your hair.' + </p> + <p> + 'D'you like my hair?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes.' + </p> + <p> + 'Well, it'll grow again.' + </p> + <p> + 'Don't stand talking. Hop it.' + </p> + <p> + 'I won't. Where's the station?' + </p> + <p> + 'Next street.' + </p> + <p> + 'Well, come along, then.' + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + The blue glass lamp of the police-station came into sight, and for an + instant she stopped. Then she was walking on again, her chin tilted. But + her voice shook a little as she spoke. + </p> + <p> + 'Nearly there. Next stop, Battersea. All change! I say, mister—I + don't know your name.' + </p> + <p> + 'Plimmer's my name, miss. Edward Plimmer.' + </p> + <p> + 'I wonder if—I mean it'll be pretty lonely where I'm going—I + wonder if—What I mean is, it would be rather a lark, when I come + out, if I was to find a pal waiting for me to say "Hallo".' + </p> + <p> + Constable Plimmer braced his ample feet against the stones, and turned + purple. + </p> + <p> + 'Miss,' he said, 'I'll be there, if I have to sit up all night. The first + thing you'll see when they open the doors is a great, ugly, red-faced + copper with big feet and a broken nose. And if you'll say "Hallo" to him + when he says "Hallo" to you, he'll be as pleased as Punch and as proud as + a duke. And, miss'—he clenched his hands till the nails hurt the + leathern flesh—'and, miss, there's just one thing more I'd like to + say. You'll be having a good deal of time to yourself for awhile; you'll + be able to do a good bit of thinking without anyone to disturb you; and + what I'd like you to give your mind to, if you don't object, is just to + think whether you can't forget that narrow-chested, God-forsaken blighter + who treated you so mean, and get half-way fond of someone who knows jolly + well you're the only girl there is.' + </p> + <p> + She looked past him at the lamp which hung, blue and forbidding, over the + station door. + </p> + <p> + 'How long'll I get?' she said. 'What will they give me? Thirty days?' + </p> + <p> + He nodded. + </p> + <p> + 'It won't take me as long as that,' she said. 'I say, what do people call + you?—people who are fond of you, I mean?—Eddie or Ted?' + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + A SEA OF TROUBLES + </h2> + <p> + Mr Meggs's mind was made up. He was going to commit suicide. + </p> + <p> + There had been moments, in the interval which had elapsed between the + first inception of the idea and his present state of fixed determination, + when he had wavered. In these moments he had debated, with Hamlet, the + question whether it was nobler in the mind to suffer, or to take arms + against a sea of troubles and by opposing end them. But all that was over + now. He was resolved. + </p> + <p> + Mr Meggs's point, the main plank, as it were, in his suicidal platform, + was that with him it was beside the question whether or not it was nobler + to suffer in the mind. The mind hardly entered into it at all. What he had + to decide was whether it was worth while putting up any longer with the + perfectly infernal pain in his stomach. For Mr Meggs was a martyr to + indigestion. As he was also devoted to the pleasures of the table, life + had become for him one long battle, in which, whatever happened, he always + got the worst of it. + </p> + <p> + He was sick of it. He looked back down the vista of the years, and found + therein no hope for the future. One after the other all the patent + medicines in creation had failed him. Smith's Supreme Digestive Pellets—he + had given them a more than fair trial. Blenkinsop's Liquid Life-Giver—he + had drunk enough of it to float a ship. Perkins's Premier Pain-Preventer, + strongly recommended by the sword-swallowing lady at Barnum and Bailey's—he + had wallowed in it. And so on down the list. His interior organism had + simply sneered at the lot of them. + </p> + <p> + 'Death, where is thy sting?' thought Mr Meggs, and forthwith began to make + his preparations. + </p> + <p> + Those who have studied the matter say that the tendency to commit suicide + is greatest among those who have passed their fifty-fifth year, and that + the rate is twice as great for unoccupied males as for occupied males. + Unhappy Mr Meggs, accordingly, got it, so to speak, with both barrels. He + was fifty-six, and he was perhaps the most unoccupied adult to be found in + the length and breadth of the United Kingdom. He toiled not, neither did + he spin. Twenty years before, an unexpected legacy had placed him in a + position to indulge a natural taste for idleness to the utmost. He was at + that time, as regards his professional life, a clerk in a rather obscure + shipping firm. Out of office hours he had a mild fondness for letters, + which took the form of meaning to read right through the hundred best + books one day, but actually contenting himself with the daily paper and an + occasional magazine. + </p> + <p> + Such was Mr Meggs at thirty-six. The necessity for working for a living + and a salary too small to permit of self-indulgence among the more + expensive and deleterious dishes on the bill of fare had up to that time + kept his digestion within reasonable bounds. Sometimes he had twinges; + more often he had none. + </p> + <p> + Then came the legacy, and with it Mr Meggs let himself go. He left London + and retired to his native village, where, with a French cook and a series + of secretaries to whom he dictated at long intervals occasional paragraphs + of a book on British Butterflies on which he imagined himself to be at + work, he passed the next twenty years. He could afford to do himself well, + and he did himself extremely well. Nobody urged him to take exercise, so + he took no exercise. Nobody warned him of the perils of lobster and welsh + rabbits to a man of sedentary habits, for it was nobody's business to warn + him. On the contrary, people rather encouraged the lobster side of his + character, for he was a hospitable soul and liked to have his friends dine + with him. The result was that Nature, as is her wont, laid for him, and + got him. It seemed to Mr Meggs that he woke one morning to find himself a + chronic dyspeptic. That was one of the hardships of his position, to his + mind. The thing seemed to hit him suddenly out of a blue sky. One moment, + all appeared to be peace and joy; the next, a lively and irritable + wild-cat with red-hot claws seemed somehow to have introduced itself into + his interior. + </p> + <p> + So Mr Meggs decided to end it. + </p> + <p> + In this crisis of his life the old methodical habits of his youth returned + to him. A man cannot be a clerk in even an obscure firm of shippers for a + great length of time without acquiring system, and Mr Meggs made his + preparations calmly and with a forethought worthy of a better cause. + </p> + <p> + And so we find him, one glorious June morning, seated at his desk, ready + for the end. + </p> + <p> + Outside, the sun beat down upon the orderly streets of the village. Dogs + dozed in the warm dust. Men who had to work went about their toil moistly, + their minds far away in shady public-houses. + </p> + <p> + But Mr Meggs, in his study, was cool both in mind and body. + </p> + <p> + Before him, on the desk, lay six little slips of paper. They were + bank-notes, and they represented, with the exception of a few pounds, his + entire worldly wealth. Beside them were six letters, six envelopes, and + six postage stamps. Mr Meggs surveyed them calmly. + </p> + <p> + He would not have admitted it, but he had had a lot of fun writing those + letters. The deliberation as to who should be his heirs had occupied him + pleasantly for several days, and, indeed, had taken his mind off his + internal pains at times so thoroughly that he had frequently surprised + himself in an almost cheerful mood. Yes, he would have denied it, but it + had been great sport sitting in his arm-chair, thinking whom he should + pick out from England's teeming millions to make happy with his money. All + sorts of schemes had passed through his mind. He had a sense of power + which the mere possession of the money had never given him. He began to + understand why millionaires make freak wills. At one time he had toyed + with the idea of selecting someone at random from the London Directory and + bestowing on him all he had to bequeath. He had only abandoned the scheme + when it occurred to him that he himself would not be in a position to + witness the recipient's stunned delight. And what was the good of starting + a thing like that, if you were not to be in at the finish? + </p> + <p> + Sentiment succeeded whimsicality. His old friends of the office—those + were the men to benefit. What good fellows they had been! Some were dead, + but he still kept intermittently in touch with half a dozen of them. And—an + important point—he knew their present addresses. + </p> + <p> + This point was important, because Mr Meggs had decided not to leave a + will, but to send the money direct to the beneficiaries. He knew what + wills were. Even in quite straightforward circumstances they often made + trouble. There had been some slight complication about his own legacy + twenty years ago. Somebody had contested the will, and before the thing + was satisfactorily settled the lawyers had got away with about twenty per + cent of the whole. No, no wills. If he made one, and then killed himself, + it might be upset on a plea of insanity. He knew of no relative who might + consider himself entitled to the money, but there was the chance that some + remote cousin existed; and then the comrades of his youth might fail to + collect after all. + </p> + <p> + He declined to run the risk. Quietly and by degrees he had sold out the + stocks and shares in which his fortune was invested, and deposited the + money in his London bank. Six piles of large notes, dividing the total + into six equal parts; six letters couched in a strain of reminiscent + pathos and manly resignation; six envelopes, legibly addressed; six + postage-stamps; and that part of his preparations was complete. He licked + the stamps and placed them on the envelopes; took the notes and inserted + them in the letters; folded the letters and thrust them into the + envelopes; sealed the envelopes; and unlocking the drawer of his desk + produced a small, black, ugly-looking bottle. + </p> + <p> + He opened the bottle and poured the contents into a medicine-glass. + </p> + <p> + It had not been without considerable thought that Mr Meggs had decided + upon the method of his suicide. The knife, the pistol, the rope—they + had all presented their charms to him. He had further examined the merits + of drowning and of leaping to destruction from a height. + </p> + <p> + There were flaws in each. Either they were painful, or else they were + messy. Mr Meggs had a tidy soul, and he revolted from the thought of + spoiling his figure, as he would most certainly do if he drowned himself; + or the carpet, as he would if he used the pistol; or the pavement—and + possibly some innocent pedestrian, as must infallibly occur should he leap + off the Monument. The knife was out of the question. Instinct told him + that it would hurt like the very dickens. + </p> + <p> + No; poison was the thing. Easy to take, quick to work, and on the whole + rather agreeable than otherwise. + </p> + <p> + Mr Meggs hid the glass behind the inkpot and rang the bell. + </p> + <p> + 'Has Miss Pillenger arrived?' he inquired of the servant. + </p> + <p> + 'She has just come, sir.' + </p> + <p> + 'Tell her that I am waiting for her here.' + </p> + <p> + Jane Pillenger was an institution. Her official position was that of + private secretary and typist to Mr Meggs. That is to say, on the rare + occasions when Mr Meggs's conscience overcame his indolence to the extent + of forcing him to resume work on his British Butterflies, it was to Miss + Pillenger that he addressed the few rambling and incoherent remarks which + constituted his idea of a regular hard, slogging spell of literary + composition. When he sank back in his chair, speechless and exhausted like + a Marathon runner who has started his sprint a mile or two too soon, it + was Miss Pillenger's task to unscramble her shorthand notes, type them + neatly, and place them in their special drawer in the desk. + </p> + <p> + Miss Pillenger was a wary spinster of austere views, uncertain age, and a + deep-rooted suspicion of men—a suspicion which, to do an abused sex + justice, they had done nothing to foster. Men had always been almost + coldly correct in their dealings with Miss Pillenger. In her twenty years + of experience as a typist and secretary she had never had to refuse with + scorn and indignation so much as a box of chocolates from any of her + employers. Nevertheless, she continued to be icily on her guard. The + clenched fist of her dignity was always drawn back, ready to swing on the + first male who dared to step beyond the bounds of professional civility. + </p> + <p> + Such was Miss Pillenger. She was the last of a long line of unprotected + English girlhood which had been compelled by straitened circumstances to + listen for hire to the appallingly dreary nonsense which Mr Meggs had to + impart on the subject of British Butterflies. Girls had come, and girls + had gone, blondes, ex-blondes, brunettes, ex-brunettes, near-blondes, + near-brunettes; they had come buoyant, full of hope and life, tempted by + the lavish salary which Mr Meggs had found himself after a while compelled + to pay; and they had dropped off, one after another, like exhausted + bivalves, unable to endure the crushing boredom of life in the village + which had given Mr Meggs to the world. For Mr Meggs's home-town was no + City of Pleasure. Remove the Vicar's magic-lantern and the try-your-weight + machine opposite the post office, and you practically eliminated the + temptations to tread the primrose path. The only young men in the place + were silent, gaping youths, at whom lunacy commissioners looked sharply + and suspiciously when they met. The tango was unknown, and the one-step. + The only form of dance extant—and that only at the rarest intervals—was + a sort of polka not unlike the movements of a slightly inebriated boxing + kangaroo. Mr Meggs's secretaries and typists gave the town one startled, + horrified glance, and stampeded for London like frightened ponies. + </p> + <p> + Not so Miss Pillenger. She remained. She was a business woman, and it was + enough for her that she received a good salary. For five pounds a week she + would have undertaken a post as secretary and typist to a Polar + Expedition. For six years she had been with Mr Meggs, and doubtless she + looked forward to being with him at least six years more. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps it was the pathos of this thought which touched Mr Meggs, as she + sailed, notebook in hand, through the doorway of the study. Here, he told + himself, was a confiding girl, all unconscious of impending doom, relying + on him as a daughter relies on her father. He was glad that he had not + forgotten Miss Pillenger when he was making his preparations. + </p> + <p> + He had certainly not forgotten Miss Pillenger. On his desk beside the + letters lay a little pile of notes, amounting in all to five hundred + pounds—her legacy. + </p> + <p> + Miss Pillenger was always business-like. She sat down in her chair, opened + her notebook, moistened her pencil, and waited expectantly for Mr Meggs to + clear his throat and begin work on the butterflies. She was surprised + when, instead of frowning, as was his invariable practice when bracing + himself for composition, he bestowed upon her a sweet, slow smile. + </p> + <p> + All that was maidenly and defensive in Miss Pillenger leaped to arms under + that smile. It ran in and out among her nerve-centres. It had been long in + arriving, this moment of crisis, but here it undoubtedly was at last. + After twenty years an employer was going to court disaster by trying to + flirt with her. + </p> + <p> + Mr Meggs went on smiling. You cannot classify smiles. Nothing lends itself + so much to a variety of interpretations as a smile. Mr Meggs thought he + was smiling the sad, tender smile of a man who, knowing himself to be on + the brink of the tomb, bids farewell to a faithful employee. Miss + Pillenger's view was that he was smiling like an abandoned old rip who + ought to have been ashamed of himself. + </p> + <p> + 'No, Miss Pillenger,' said Mr Meggs, 'I shall not work this morning. I + shall want you, if you will be so good, to post these six letters for me.' + </p> + <p> + Miss Pillenger took the letters. Mr Meggs surveyed her tenderly. + </p> + <p> + 'Miss Pillenger, you have been with me a long time now. Six years, is it + not? Six years. Well, well. I don't think I have ever made you a little + present, have I?' + </p> + <p> + 'You give me a good salary.' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, but I want to give you something more. Six years is a long time. I + have come to regard you with a different feeling from that which the + ordinary employer feels for his secretary. You and I have worked together + for six long years. Surely I may be permitted to give you some token of my + appreciation of your fidelity.' He took the pile of notes. 'These are for + you, Miss Pillenger.' + </p> + <p> + He rose and handed them to her. He eyed her for a moment with all the + sentimentality of a man whose digestion has been out of order for over two + decades. The pathos of the situation swept him away. He bent over Miss + Pillenger, and kissed her on the forehead. + </p> + <p> + Smiles excepted, there is nothing so hard to classify as a kiss. Mr + Meggs's notion was that he kissed Miss Pillenger much as some great + general, wounded unto death, might have kissed his mother, his sister, or + some particularly sympathetic aunt; Miss Pillenger's view, differing + substantially from this, may be outlined in her own words. + </p> + <p> + 'Ah!' she cried, as, dealing Mr Meggs's conveniently placed jaw a blow + which, had it landed an inch lower down, might have knocked him out, she + sprang to her feet. 'How dare you! I've been waiting for this Mr Meggs. I + have seen it in your eye. I have expected it. Let me tell you that I am + not at all the sort of girl with whom it is safe to behave like that. I + can protect myself. I am only a working-girl—' + </p> + <p> + Mr Meggs, who had fallen back against the desk as a stricken pugilist + falls on the ropes, pulled himself together to protest. + </p> + <p> + 'Miss Pillenger,' he cried, aghast, 'you misunderstand me. I had no + intention—' + </p> + <p> + 'Misunderstand you? Bah! I am only a working-girl—' + </p> + <p> + 'Nothing was farther from my mind—' + </p> + <p> + 'Indeed! Nothing was farther from your mind! You give me money, you shower + your vile kisses on me, but nothing was farther from your mind than the + obvious interpretation of such behaviour!' Before coming to Mr Meggs, Miss + Pillenger had been secretary to an Indiana novelist. She had learned style + from the master. 'Now that you have gone too far, you are frightened at + what you have done. You well may be, Mr Meggs. I am only a working-girl—' + </p> + <p> + 'Miss Pillenger, I implore you—' + </p> + <p> + 'Silence! I am only a working-girl—' + </p> + <p> + A wave of mad fury swept over Mr Meggs. The shock of the blow and still + more of the frightful ingratitude of this horrible woman nearly made him + foam at the mouth. + </p> + <p> + 'Don't keep on saying you're only a working-girl,' he bellowed. 'You'll + drive me mad. Go. Go away from me. Get out. Go anywhere, but leave me + alone!' + </p> + <p> + Miss Pillenger was not entirely sorry to obey the request. Mr Meggs's + sudden fury had startled and frightened her. So long as she could end the + scene victorious, she was anxious to withdraw. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, I will go,' she said, with dignity, as she opened the door. 'Now + that you have revealed yourself in your true colours, Mr Meggs, this house + is no fit place for a wor—' + </p> + <p> + She caught her employer's eye, and vanished hastily. + </p> + <p> + Mr Meggs paced the room in a ferment. He had been shaken to his core by + the scene. He boiled with indignation. That his kind thoughts should have + been so misinterpreted—it was too much. Of all ungrateful worlds, + this world was the most— + </p> + <p> + He stopped suddenly in his stride, partly because his shin had struck a + chair, partly because an idea had struck his mind. + </p> + <p> + Hopping madly, he added one more parallel between himself and Hamlet by + soliloquizing aloud. + </p> + <p> + 'I'll be hanged if I commit suicide,' he yelled. + </p> + <p> + And as he spoke the words a curious peace fell on him, as on a man who has + awakened from a nightmare. He sat down at the desk. What an idiot he had + been ever to contemplate self-destruction. What could have induced him to + do it? By his own hand to remove himself, merely in order that a pack of + ungrateful brutes might wallow in his money—it was the scheme of a + perfect fool. + </p> + <p> + He wouldn't commit suicide. Not if he knew it. He would stick on and laugh + at them. And if he did have an occasional pain inside, what of that? + Napoleon had them, and look at him. He would be blowed if he committed + suicide. + </p> + <p> + With the fire of a new resolve lighting up his eyes, he turned to seize + the six letters and rifle them of their contents. + </p> + <p> + They were gone. + </p> + <p> + It took Mr Meggs perhaps thirty seconds to recollect where they had gone + to, and then it all came back to him. He had given them to the demon + Pillenger, and, if he did not overtake her and get them back, she would + mail them. + </p> + <p> + Of all the mixed thoughts which seethed in Mr Meggs's mind at that moment, + easily the most prominent was the reflection that from his front door to + the post office was a walk of less than five minutes. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + Miss Pillenger walked down the sleepy street in the June sunshine, + boiling, as Mr Meggs had done, with indignation. She, too, had been shaken + to the core. It was her intention to fulfil her duty by posting the + letters which had been entrusted to her, and then to quit for ever the + service of one who, for six years a model employer, had at last forgotten + himself and showed his true nature. + </p> + <p> + Her meditations were interrupted by a hoarse shout in her rear; and, + turning, she perceived the model employer running rapidly towards her. His + face was scarlet, his eyes wild, and he wore no hat. + </p> + <p> + Miss Pillenger's mind worked swiftly. She took in the situation in a + flash. Unrequited, guilty love had sapped Mr Meggs's reason, and she was + to be the victim of his fury. She had read of scores of similar cases in + the newspapers. How little she had ever imagined that she would be the + heroine of one of these dramas of passion. + </p> + <p> + She looked for one brief instant up and down the street. Nobody was in + sight. With a loud cry she began to run. + </p> + <p> + 'Stop!' + </p> + <p> + It was the fierce voice of her pursuer. Miss Pillenger increased to third + speed. As she did so, she had a vision of headlines. + </p> + <p> + 'Stop!' roared Mr Meggs. + </p> + <p> + 'UNREQUITED PASSION MADE THIS MAN MURDERER,' thought Miss Pillenger. + </p> + <p> + 'Stop!' + </p> + <p> + 'CRAZED WITH LOVE HE SLAYS BEAUTIFUL BLONDE,' flashed out in letters of + crimson on the back of Miss Pillenger's mind. + </p> + <p> + 'Stop!' + </p> + <h3> + 'SPURNED, HE STABS HER THRICE.' + </h3> + <p> + To touch the ground at intervals of twenty yards or so—that was the + ideal she strove after. She addressed herself to it with all the strength + of her powerful mind. + </p> + <p> + In London, New York, Paris, and other cities where life is brisk, the + spectacle of a hatless gentleman with a purple face pursuing his secretary + through the streets at a rapid gallop would, of course, have excited + little, if any, remark. But in Mr Meggs's home-town events were of rarer + occurrence. The last milestone in the history of his native place had been + the visit, two years before, of Bingley's Stupendous Circus, which had + paraded along the main street on its way to the next town, while zealous + members of its staff visited the back premises of the houses and removed + all the washing from the lines. Since then deep peace had reigned. + </p> + <p> + Gradually, therefore, as the chase warmed up, citizens of all shapes and + sizes began to assemble. Miss Pillenger's screams and the general + appearance of Mr Meggs gave food for thought. Having brooded over the + situation, they decided at length to take a hand, with the result that as + Mr Meggs's grasp fell upon Miss Pillenger the grasp of several of his + fellow-townsmen fell upon him. + </p> + <p> + 'Save me!' said Miss Pillenger. + </p> + <p> + Mr Meggs pointed speechlessly to the letters, which she still grasped in + her right hand. He had taken practically no exercise for twenty years, and + the pace had told upon him. + </p> + <p> + Constable Gooch, guardian of the town's welfare, tightened his hold on Mr + Meggs's arm, and desired explanations. + </p> + <p> + 'He—he was going to murder me,' said Miss Pillenger. + </p> + <p> + 'Kill him,' advised an austere bystander. + </p> + <p> + 'What do you mean you were going to murder the lady?' inquired Constable + Gooch. + </p> + <p> + Mr Meggs found speech. + </p> + <p> + 'I—I—I—I only wanted those letters.' + </p> + <p> + 'What for?' + </p> + <p> + 'They're mine.' + </p> + <p> + 'You charge her with stealing 'em?' + </p> + <p> + 'He gave them me to post with his own hands,' cried Miss Pillenger. + </p> + <p> + 'I know I did, but I want them back.' + </p> + <p> + By this time the constable, though age had to some extent dimmed his + sight, had recognized beneath the perspiration, features which, though + they were distorted, were nevertheless those of one whom he respected as a + leading citizen. + </p> + <p> + 'Why, Mr Meggs!' he said. + </p> + <p> + This identification by one in authority calmed, if it a little + disappointed, the crowd. What it was they did not know, but, it was + apparently not a murder, and they began to drift off. + </p> + <p> + 'Why don't you give Mr Meggs his letters when he asks you, ma'am?' said + the constable. + </p> + <p> + Miss Pillenger drew herself up haughtily. + </p> + <p> + 'Here are your letters, Mr Meggs, I hope we shall never meet again.' + </p> + <p> + Mr Meggs nodded. That was his view, too. + </p> + <p> + All things work together for good. The following morning Mr Meggs awoke + from a dreamless sleep with a feeling that some curious change had taken + place in him. He was abominably stiff, and to move his limbs was pain, but + down in the centre of his being there was a novel sensation of lightness. + He could have declared that he was happy. + </p> + <p> + Wincing, he dragged himself out of bed and limped to the window. He threw + it open. It was a perfect morning. A cool breeze smote his face, bringing + with it pleasant scents and the soothing sound of God's creatures + beginning a new day. + </p> + <p> + An astounding thought struck him. + </p> + <p> + 'Why, I feel well!' + </p> + <p> + Then another. + </p> + <p> + 'It must be the exercise I took yesterday. By George, I'll do it + regularly.' + </p> + <p> + He drank in the air luxuriously. Inside him, the wild-cat gave him a + sudden claw, but it was a half-hearted effort, the effort of one who knows + that he is beaten. Mr Meggs was so absorbed in his thoughts that he did + not even notice it. + </p> + <p> + 'London,' he was saying to himself. 'One of these physical culture + places.... Comparatively young man.... Put myself in their hands.... Mild, + regular exercise....' + </p> + <p> + He limped to the bathroom. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE MAN WITH TWO LEFT FEET + </h2> + <p> + Students of the folk-lore of the United States of America are no doubt + familiar with the quaint old story of Clarence MacFadden. Clarence + MacFadden, it seems, was 'wishful to dance, but his feet wasn't gaited + that way. So he sought a professor and asked him his price, and said he + was willing to pay. The professor' (the legend goes on) 'looked down with + alarm at his feet and marked their enormous expanse; and he tacked on a + five to his regular price for teaching MacFadden to dance.' + </p> + <p> + I have often been struck by the close similarity between the case of + Clarence and that of Henry Wallace Mills. One difference alone presents + itself. It would seem to have been mere vanity and ambition that + stimulated the former; whereas the motive force which drove Henry Mills to + defy Nature and attempt dancing was the purer one of love. He did it to + please his wife. Had he never gone to Ye Bonnie Briar-Bush Farm, that + popular holiday resort, and there met Minnie Hill, he would doubtless have + continued to spend in peaceful reading the hours not given over to work at + the New York bank at which he was employed as paying-cashier. For Henry + was a voracious reader. His idea of a pleasant evening was to get back to + his little flat, take off his coat, put on his slippers, light a pipe, and + go on from the point where he had left off the night before in his perusal + of the BIS-CAL volume of the <i>Encyclopaedia Britannica</i>—making + notes as he read in a stout notebook. He read the BIS-CAL volume because, + after many days, he had finished the A-AND, AND-AUS, and the AUS-BIS. + There was something admirable—and yet a little horrible—about + Henry's method of study. He went after Learning with the cold and + dispassionate relentlessness of a stoat pursuing a rabbit. The ordinary + man who is paying instalments on the <i>Encyclopaedia Britannica</i> is + apt to get over-excited and to skip impatiently to Volume XXVIII (VET-ZYM) + to see how it all comes out in the end. Not so Henry. His was not a + frivolous mind. He intended to read the <i>Encyclopaedia</i> through, and + he was not going to spoil his pleasure by peeping ahead. + </p> + <p> + It would seem to be an inexorable law of Nature that no man shall shine at + both ends. If he has a high forehead and a thirst for wisdom, his + fox-trotting (if any) shall be as the staggerings of the drunken; while, + if he is a good dancer, he is nearly always petrified from the ears + upward. No better examples of this law could have been found than Henry + Mills and his fellow-cashier, Sidney Mercer. In New York banks + paying-cashiers, like bears, tigers, lions, and other fauna, are always + shut up in a cage in pairs, and are consequently dependent on each other + for entertainment and social intercourse when business is slack. Henry + Mills and Sidney simply could not find a subject in common. Sidney knew + absolutely nothing of even such elementary things as Abana, Aberration, + Abraham, or Acrogenae; while Henry, on his side, was scarcely aware that + there had been any developments in the dance since the polka. It was a + relief to Henry when Sidney threw up his job to join the chorus of a + musical comedy, and was succeeded by a man who, though full of + limitations, could at least converse intelligently on Bowls. + </p> + <p> + Such, then, was Henry Wallace Mills. He was in the middle thirties, + temperate, studious, a moderate smoker, and—one would have said—a + bachelor of the bachelors, armour-plated against Cupid's well-meant but + obsolete artillery. Sometimes Sidney Mercer's successor in the teller's + cage, a sentimental young man, would broach the topic of Woman and + Marriage. He would ask Henry if he ever intended to get married. On such + occasions Henry would look at him in a manner which was a blend of scorn, + amusement, and indignation; and would reply with a single word: + </p> + <p> + 'Me!' + </p> + <p> + It was the way he said it that impressed you. + </p> + <p> + But Henry had yet to experience the unmanning atmosphere of a lonely + summer resort. He had only just reached the position in the bank where he + was permitted to take his annual vacation in the summer. Hitherto he had + always been released from his cage during the winter months, and had spent + his ten days of freedom at his flat, with a book in his hand and his feet + on the radiator. But the summer after Sidney Mercer's departure they + unleashed him in August. + </p> + <p> + It was meltingly warm in the city. Something in Henry cried out for the + country. For a month before the beginning of his vacation he devoted much + of the time that should have been given to the <i>Encyclopaedia Britannica</i> + in reading summer-resort literature. He decided at length upon Ye Bonnie + Briar-Bush Farm because the advertisements spoke so well of it. + </p> + <p> + Ye Bonnie Briar-Bush Farm was a rather battered frame building many miles + from anywhere. Its attractions included a Lovers' Leap, a Grotto, + golf-links—a five-hole course where the enthusiast found unusual + hazards in the shape of a number of goats tethered at intervals between + the holes—and a silvery lake, only portions of which were used as a + dumping-ground for tin cans and wooden boxes. It was all new and strange + to Henry and caused him an odd exhilaration. Something of gaiety and + reckless abandon began to creep into his veins. He had a curious feeling + that in these romantic surroundings some adventure ought to happen to him. + </p> + <p> + At this juncture Minnie Hill arrived. She was a small, slim girl, thinner + and paler than she should have been, with large eyes that seemed to Henry + pathetic and stirred his chivalry. He began to think a good deal about + Minnie Hill. + </p> + <p> + And then one evening he met her on the shores of the silvery lake. He was + standing there, slapping at things that looked like mosquitoes, but could + not have been, for the advertisements expressly stated that none were ever + found in the neighbourhood of Ye Bonnie Briar-Bush Farm, when along she + came. She walked slowly, as if she were tired. A strange thrill, half of + pity, half of something else, ran through Henry. He looked at her. She + looked at him. + </p> + <p> + 'Good evening,' he said. + </p> + <p> + They were the first words he had spoken to her. She never contributed to + the dialogue of the dining-room, and he had been too shy to seek her out + in the open. + </p> + <p> + She said 'Good evening,' too, tying the score. And there was silence for a + moment. + </p> + <p> + Commiseration overcame Henry's shyness. + </p> + <p> + 'You're looking tired,' he said. + </p> + <p> + 'I feel tired.' She paused. 'I overdid it in the city.' + </p> + <p> + 'It?' + </p> + <p> + 'Dancing.' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, dancing. Did you dance much?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes; a great deal.' + </p> + <p> + 'Ah!' + </p> + <p> + A promising, even a dashing start. But how to continue? For the first time + Henry regretted the steady determination of his methods with the <i>Encyclopaedia</i>. + How pleasant if he could have been in a position to talk easily of + Dancing. Then memory reminded him that, though he had not yet got up to + Dancing, it was only a few weeks before that he had been reading of the + Ballet. + </p> + <p> + 'I don't dance myself,' he said, 'but I am fond of reading about it. Did + you know that the word "ballet" incorporated three distinct modern words, + "ballet", "ball", and "ballad", and that ballet-dancing was originally + accompanied by singing?' + </p> + <p> + It hit her. It had her weak. She looked at him with awe in her eyes. One + might almost say that she gaped at Henry. + </p> + <p> + 'I hardly know anything,' she said. + </p> + <p> + 'The first descriptive ballet seen in London, England,' said Henry, + quietly, 'was "The Tavern Bilkers", which was played at Drury Lane in—in + seventeen—something.' + </p> + <p> + 'Was it?' + </p> + <p> + 'And the earliest modern ballet on record was that given by—by + someone to celebrate the marriage of the Duke of Milan in 1489.' + </p> + <p> + There was no doubt or hesitation about the date this time. It was grappled + to his memory by hoops of steel owing to the singular coincidence of it + being also his telephone number. He gave it out with a roll, and the + girl's eyes widened. + </p> + <p> + 'What an awful lot you know!' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, no,' said Henry, modestly. 'I read a great deal.' + </p> + <p> + 'It must be splendid to know a lot,' she said, wistfully. 'I've never had + time for reading. I've always wanted to. I think you're wonderful!' + </p> + <p> + Henry's soul was expanding like a flower and purring like a well-tickled + cat. Never in his life had he been admired by a woman. The sensation was + intoxicating. + </p> + <p> + Silence fell upon them. They started to walk back to the farm, warned by + the distant ringing of a bell that supper was about to materialize. It was + not a musical bell, but distance and the magic of this unusual moment lent + it charm. The sun was setting. It threw a crimson carpet across the + silvery lake. The air was very still. The creatures, unclassified by + science, who might have been mistaken for mosquitoes had their presence + been possible at Ye Bonnie Briar-Bush Farm, were biting harder than ever. + But Henry heeded them not. He did not even slap at them. They drank their + fill of his blood and went away to put their friends on to this good + thing; but for Henry they did not exist. Strange things were happening to + him. And, lying awake that night in bed, he recognized the truth. He was + in love. + </p> + <p> + After that, for the remainder of his stay, they were always together. They + walked in the woods, they sat by the silvery lake. He poured out the + treasures of his learning for her, and she looked at him with reverent + eyes, uttering from time to time a soft 'Yes' or a musical 'Gee!' + </p> + <p> + In due season Henry went back to New York. + </p> + <p> + 'You're dead wrong about love, Mills,' said his sentimental + fellow-cashier, shortly after his return. 'You ought to get married.' + </p> + <p> + 'I'm going to,' replied Henry, briskly. 'Week tomorrow.' + </p> + <p> + Which stunned the other so thoroughly that he gave a customer who entered + at that moment fifteen dollars for a ten-dollar cheque, and had to do some + excited telephoning after the bank had closed. + </p> + <p> + Henry's first year as a married man was the happiest of his life. He had + always heard this period described as the most perilous of matrimony. He + had braced himself for clashings of tastes, painful adjustments of + character, sudden and unavoidable quarrels. Nothing of the kind happened. + From the very beginning they settled down in perfect harmony. She merged + with his life as smoothly as one river joins another. He did not even have + to alter his habits. Every morning he had his breakfast at eight, smoked a + cigarette, and walked to the Underground. At five he left the bank, and at + six he arrived home, for it was his practice to walk the first two miles + of the way, breathing deeply and regularly. Then dinner. Then the quiet + evening. Sometimes the moving-pictures, but generally the quiet evening, + he reading the <i>Encyclopaedia</i>—aloud now—Minnie darning + his socks, but never ceasing to listen. + </p> + <p> + Each day brought the same sense of grateful amazement that he should be so + wonderfully happy, so extraordinarily peaceful. Everything was as perfect + as it could be. Minnie was looking a different girl. She had lost her + drawn look. She was filling out. + </p> + <p> + Sometimes he would suspend his reading for a moment, and look across at + her. At first he would see only her soft hair, as she bent over her + sewing. Then, wondering at the silence, she would look up, and he would + meet her big eyes. And then Henry would gurgle with happiness, and demand + of himself, silently: + </p> + <p> + 'Can you beat it!' + </p> + <p> + It was the anniversary of their wedding. They celebrated it in fitting + style. They dined at a crowded and exhilarating Italian restaurant on a + street off Seventh Avenue, where red wine was included in the bill, and + excitable people, probably extremely clever, sat round at small tables and + talked all together at the top of their voices. After dinner they saw a + musical comedy. And then—the great event of the night—they + went on to supper at a glittering restaurant near Times Square. + </p> + <p> + There was something about supper at an expensive restaurant which had + always appealed to Henry's imagination. Earnest devourer as he was of the + solids of literature, he had tasted from time to time its lighter face—those + novels which begin with the hero supping in the midst of the glittering + throng and having his attention attracted to a distinguished-looking + elderly man with a grey imperial who is entering with a girl so strikingly + beautiful that the revellers turn, as she passes, to look after her. And + then, as he sits and smokes, a waiter comes up to the hero and, with a + soft '<i>Pardon, m'sieu!</i>' hands him a note. + </p> + <p> + The atmosphere of Geisenheimer's suggested all that sort of thing to + Henry. They had finished supper, and he was smoking a cigar—his + second that day. He leaned back in his chair and surveyed the scene. He + felt braced up, adventurous. He had that feeling, which comes to all quiet + men who like to sit at home and read, that this was the sort of atmosphere + in which he really belonged. The brightness of it all—the dazzling + lights, the music, the hubbub, in which the deep-throated gurgle of the + wine-agent surprised while drinking soup blended with the shriller note of + the chorus-girl calling to her mate—these things got Henry. He was + thirty-six next birthday, but he felt a youngish twenty-one. + </p> + <p> + A voice spoke at his side. Henry looked up, to perceive Sidney Mercer. + </p> + <p> + The passage of a year, which had turned Henry into a married man, had + turned Sidney Mercer into something so magnificent that the spectacle for + a moment deprived Henry of speech. Faultless evening dress clung with + loving closeness to Sidney's lissom form. Gleaming shoes of perfect patent + leather covered his feet. His light hair was brushed back into a smooth + sleekness on which the electric lights shone like stars on some beautiful + pool. His practically chinless face beamed amiably over a spotless collar. + </p> + <p> + Henry wore blue serge. + </p> + <p> + 'What are you doing here, Henry, old top?' said the vision. 'I didn't know + you ever came among the bright lights.' + </p> + <p> + His eyes wandered off to Minnie. There was admiration in them, for Minnie + was looking her prettiest. + </p> + <p> + 'Wife,' said Henry, recovering speech. And to Minnie: 'Mr Mercer. Old + friend.' + </p> + <p> + 'So you're married? Wish you luck. How's the bank?' + </p> + <p> + Henry said the bank was doing as well as could be expected. + </p> + <p> + 'You still on the stage?' + </p> + <p> + Mr Mercer shook his head importantly. + </p> + <p> + 'Got better job. Professional dancer at this show. Rolling in money. Why + aren't you dancing?' + </p> + <p> + The words struck a jarring note. The lights and the music until that + moment had had a subtle psychological effect on Henry, enabling him to + hypnotize himself into a feeling that it was not inability to dance that + kept him in his seat, but that he had had so much of that sort of thing + that he really preferred to sit quietly and look on for a change. Sidney's + question changed all that. It made him face the truth. + </p> + <p> + 'I don't dance.' + </p> + <p> + 'For the love of Mike! I bet Mrs Mills does. Would you care for a turn, + Mrs Mills?' + </p> + <p> + 'No, thank you, really.' + </p> + <p> + But remorse was now at work on Henry. He perceived that he had been + standing in the way of Minnie's pleasure. Of course she wanted to dance. + All women did. She was only refusing for his sake. + </p> + <p> + 'Nonsense, Min. Go to it.' + </p> + <p> + Minnie looked doubtful. + </p> + <p> + 'Of course you must dance, Min. I shall be all right. I'll sit here and + smoke.' + </p> + <p> + The next moment Minnie and Sidney were treading the complicated measure; + and simultaneously Henry ceased to be a youngish twenty-one and was even + conscious of a fleeting doubt as to whether he was really only + thirty-five. + </p> + <p> + Boil the whole question of old age down, and what it amounts to is that a + man is young as long as he can dance without getting lumbago, and, if he + cannot dance, he is never young at all. This was the truth that forced + itself upon Henry Wallace Mills, as he sat watching his wife moving over + the floor in the arms of Sidney Mercer. Even he could see that Minnie + danced well. He thrilled at the sight of her gracefulness; and for the + first time since his marriage he became introspective. It had never struck + him before how much younger Minnie was than himself. When she had signed + the paper at the City Hall on the occasion of the purchase of the marriage + licence, she had given her age, he remembered now, as twenty-six. It had + made no impression on him at the time. Now, however, he perceived clearly + that between twenty-six and thirty-five there was a gap of nine years; and + a chill sensation came upon him of being old and stodgy. How dull it must + be for poor little Minnie to be cooped up night after night with such an + old fogy? Other men took their wives out and gave them a good time, + dancing half the night with them. All he could do was to sit at home and + read Minnie dull stuff from the <i>Encyclopaedia</i>. What a life for the + poor child! Suddenly, he felt acutely jealous of the rubber-jointed Sidney + Mercer, a man whom hitherto he had always heartily despised. + </p> + <p> + The music stopped. They came back to the table, Minnie with a pink glow on + her face that made her younger than ever; Sidney, the insufferable ass, + grinning and smirking and pretending to be eighteen. They looked like a + couple of children—Henry, catching sight of himself in a mirror, was + surprised to find that his hair was not white. + </p> + <p> + Half an hour later, in the cab going home, Minnie, half asleep, was + aroused by a sudden stiffening of the arm that encircled her waist and a + sudden snort close to her ear. + </p> + <p> + It was Henry Wallace Mills resolving that he would learn to dance. + </p> + <p> + Being of a literary turn of mind and also economical, Henry's first step + towards his new ambition was to buy a fifty-cent book entitled <i>The ABC + of Modern Dancing</i>, by 'Tango'. It would, he felt—not without + reason—be simpler and less expensive if he should learn the steps by + the aid of this treatise than by the more customary method of taking + lessons. But quite early in the proceedings he was faced by complications. + In the first place, it was his intention to keep what he was doing a + secret from Minnie, in order to be able to give her a pleasant surprise on + her birthday, which would be coming round in a few weeks. In the second + place, <i>The ABC of Modern Dancing</i> proved on investigation far more + complex than its title suggested. + </p> + <p> + These two facts were the ruin of the literary method, for, while it was + possible to study the text and the plates at the bank, the home was the + only place in which he could attempt to put the instructions into + practice. You cannot move the right foot along dotted line A B and bring + the left foot round curve C D in a paying-cashier's cage in a bank, nor, + if you are at all sensitive to public opinion, on the pavement going home. + And while he was trying to do it in the parlour of the flat one night when + he imagined that Minnie was in the kitchen cooking supper, she came in + unexpectedly to ask how he wanted the steak cooked. He explained that he + had had a sudden touch of cramp, but the incident shook his nerve. + </p> + <p> + After this he decided that he must have lessons. + </p> + <p> + Complications did not cease with this resolve. Indeed, they became more + acute. It was not that there was any difficulty about finding an + instructor. The papers were full of their advertisements. He selected a + Mme Gavarni because she lived in a convenient spot. Her house was in a + side street, with a station within easy reach. The real problem was when + to find time for the lessons. His life was run on such a regular schedule + that he could hardly alter so important a moment in it as the hour of his + arrival home without exciting comment. Only deceit could provide a + solution. + </p> + <p> + 'Min, dear,' he said at breakfast. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, Henry?' + </p> + <p> + Henry turned mauve. He had never lied to her before. + </p> + <p> + 'I'm not getting enough exercise.' + </p> + <p> + 'Why you look so well.' + </p> + <p> + 'I get a kind of heavy feeling sometimes. I think I'll put on another mile + or so to my walk on my way home. So—so I'll be back a little later + in future.' + </p> + <p> + 'Very well, dear.' + </p> + <p> + It made him feel like a particularly low type of criminal, but, by + abandoning his walk, he was now in a position to devote an hour a day to + the lessons; and Mme Gavarni had said that that would be ample. + </p> + <p> + 'Sure, Bill,' she had said. She was a breezy old lady with a military + moustache and an unconventional manner with her clientele. 'You come to me + an hour a day, and, if you haven't two left feet, we'll make you the pet + of society in a month.' + </p> + <p> + 'Is that so?' + </p> + <p> + 'It sure is. I never had a failure yet with a pupe, except one. And that + wasn't my fault.' + </p> + <p> + 'Had he two left feet?' + </p> + <p> + 'Hadn't any feet at all. Fell off of a roof after the second lesson, and + had to have 'em cut off him. At that, I could have learned him to tango + with wooden legs, only he got kind of discouraged. Well, see you Monday, + Bill. Be good.' + </p> + <p> + And the kindly old soul, retrieving her chewing gum from the panel of the + door where she had placed it to facilitate conversation, dismissed him. + </p> + <p> + And now began what, in later years, Henry unhesitatingly considered the + most miserable period of his existence. There may be times when a man who + is past his first youth feels more unhappy and ridiculous than when he is + taking a course of lessons in the modern dance, but it is not easy to + think of them. Physically, his new experience caused Henry acute pain. + Muscles whose existence he had never suspected came into being for—apparently—the + sole purpose of aching. Mentally he suffered even more. + </p> + <p> + This was partly due to the peculiar method of instruction in vogue at Mme + Gavarni's, and partly to the fact that, when it came to the actual + lessons, a sudden niece was produced from a back room to give them. She + was a blonde young lady with laughing blue eyes, and Henry never clasped + her trim waist without feeling a black-hearted traitor to his absent + Minnie. Conscience racked him. Add to this the sensation of being a + strange, jointless creature with abnormally large hands and feet, and the + fact that it was Mme Gavarni's custom to stand in a corner of the room + during the hour of tuition, chewing gum and making comments, and it is not + surprising that Henry became wan and thin. + </p> + <p> + Mme Gavarni had the trying habit of endeavouring to stimulate Henry by + frequently comparing his performance and progress with that of a cripple + whom she claimed to have taught at some previous time. + </p> + <p> + She and the niece would have spirited arguments in his presence as to + whether or not the cripple had one-stepped better after his third lesson + than Henry after his fifth. The niece said no. As well, perhaps, but not + better. Mme Gavarni said that the niece was forgetting the way the cripple + had slid his feet. The niece said yes, that was so, maybe she was. Henry + said nothing. He merely perspired. + </p> + <p> + He made progress slowly. This could not be blamed upon his instructress, + however. She did all that one woman could to speed him up. Sometimes she + would even pursue him into the street in order to show him on the + side-walk a means of doing away with some of his numerous errors of <i>technique</i>, + the elimination of which would help to make him definitely the cripple's + superior. The misery of embracing her indoors was as nothing to the misery + of embracing her on the sidewalk. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, having paid for his course of lessons in advance, and being + a determined man, he did make progress. One day, to his surprise, he found + his feet going through the motions without any definite exercise of + will-power on his part—almost as if they were endowed with an + intelligence of their own. It was the turning-point. It filled him with a + singular pride such as he had not felt since his first rise of salary at + the bank. + </p> + <p> + Mme Gavarni was moved to dignified praise. + </p> + <p> + 'Some speed, kid!' she observed. 'Some speed!' + </p> + <p> + Henry blushed modestly. It was the accolade. + </p> + <p> + Every day, as his skill at the dance became more manifest, Henry found + occasion to bless the moment when he had decided to take lessons. He + shuddered sometimes at the narrowness of his escape from disaster. Every + day now it became more apparent to him, as he watched Minnie, that she was + chafing at the monotony of her life. That fatal supper had wrecked the + peace of their little home. Or perhaps it had merely precipitated the + wreck. Sooner or later, he told himself, she was bound to have wearied of + the dullness of her lot. At any rate, dating from shortly after that + disturbing night, a lack of ease and spontaneity seemed to creep into + their relations. A blight settled on the home. + </p> + <p> + Little by little Minnie and he were growing almost formal towards each + other. She had lost her taste for being read to in the evenings and had + developed a habit of pleading a headache and going early to bed. + Sometimes, catching her eye when she was not expecting it, he surprised an + enigmatic look in it. It was a look, however, which he was able to read. + It meant that she was bored. + </p> + <p> + It might have been expected that this state of affairs would have + distressed Henry. It gave him, on the contrary, a pleasurable thrill. It + made him feel that it had been worth it, going through the torments of + learning to dance. The more bored she was now the greater her delight when + he revealed himself dramatically. If she had been contented with the life + which he could offer her as a non-dancer, what was the sense of losing + weight and money in order to learn the steps? He enjoyed the silent, + uneasy evenings which had supplanted those cheery ones of the first year + of their marriage. The more uncomfortable they were now, the more they + would appreciate their happiness later on. Henry belonged to the large + circle of human beings who consider that there is acuter pleasure in being + suddenly cured of toothache than in never having toothache at all. + </p> + <p> + He merely chuckled inwardly, therefore, when, on the morning of her + birthday, having presented her with a purse which he knew she had long + coveted, he found himself thanked in a perfunctory and mechanical way. + </p> + <p> + 'I'm glad you like it,' he said. + </p> + <p> + Minnie looked at the purse without enthusiasm. + </p> + <p> + 'It's just what I wanted,' she said, listlessly. + </p> + <p> + 'Well, I must be going. I'll get the tickets for the theatre while I'm in + town.' + </p> + <p> + Minnie hesitated for a moment. + </p> + <p> + 'I don't believe I want to go to the theatre much tonight, Henry.' + </p> + <p> + 'Nonsense. We must have a party on your birthday. We'll go to the theatre + and then we'll have supper at Geisenheimer's again. I may be working after + hours at the bank today, so I guess I won't come home. I'll meet you at + that Italian place at six.' + </p> + <p> + 'Very well. You'll miss your walk, then?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes. It doesn't matter for once.' + </p> + <p> + 'No. You're still going on with your walks, then?' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, yes, yes.' + </p> + <p> + 'Three miles every day?' + </p> + <p> + 'Never miss it. It keeps me well.' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes.' + </p> + <p> + 'Good-bye, darling.' + </p> + <p> + 'Good-bye.' + </p> + <p> + Yes, there was a distinct chill in the atmosphere. Thank goodness, thought + Henry, as he walked to the station, it would be different tomorrow + morning. He had rather the feeling of a young knight who has done perilous + deeds in secret for his lady, and is about at last to receive credit for + them. + </p> + <p> + Geisenheimer's was as brilliant and noisy as it had been before when Henry + reached it that night, escorting a reluctant Minnie. After a silent dinner + and a theatrical performance during which neither had exchanged more than + a word between the acts, she had wished to abandon the idea of supper and + go home. But a squad of police could not have kept Henry from + Geisenheimer's. His hour had come. He had thought of this moment for + weeks, and he visualized every detail of his big scene. At first they + would sit at their table in silent discomfort. Then Sidney Mercer would + come up, as before, to ask Minnie to dance. And then—then—Henry + would rise and, abandoning all concealment, exclaim grandly: 'No! I am + going to dance with my wife!' Stunned amazement of Minnie, followed by + wild joy. Utter rout and discomfiture of that pin-head, Mercer. And then, + when they returned to their table, he breathing easily and regularly as a + trained dancer in perfect condition should, she tottering a little with + the sudden rapture of it all, they would sit with their heads close + together and start a new life. That was the scenario which Henry had + drafted. + </p> + <p> + It worked out—up to a certain point—as smoothly as ever it had + done in his dreams. The only hitch which he had feared—to wit, the + non-appearance of Sidney Mercer, did not occur. It would spoil the scene a + little, he had felt, if Sidney Mercer did not present himself to play the + role of foil; but he need have had no fears on this point. Sidney had the + gift, not uncommon in the chinless, smooth-baked type of man, of being + able to see a pretty girl come into the restaurant even when his back was + towards the door. They had hardly seated themselves when he was beside + their table bleating greetings. + </p> + <p> + 'Why, Henry! Always here!' + </p> + <p> + 'Wife's birthday.' + </p> + <p> + 'Many happy returns of the day, Mrs Mills. We've just time for one turn + before the waiter comes with your order. Come along.' + </p> + <p> + The band was staggering into a fresh tune, a tune that Henry knew well. + Many a time had Mme Gavarni hammered it out of an aged and unwilling piano + in order that he might dance with her blue-eyed niece. He rose. + </p> + <p> + 'No!' he exclaimed grandly. 'I am going to dance with my wife!' + </p> + <p> + He had not under-estimated the sensation which he had looked forward to + causing. Minnie looked at him with round eyes. Sidney Mercer was obviously + startled. + </p> + <p> + 'I thought you couldn't dance.' + </p> + <p> + 'You never can tell,' said Henry, lightly. 'It looks easy enough. Anyway, + I'll try.' + </p> + <p> + 'Henry!' cried Minnie, as he clasped her. + </p> + <p> + He had supposed that she would say something like that, but hardly in that + kind of voice. There is a way of saying 'Henry!' which conveys surprised + admiration and remorseful devotion; but she had not said it in that way. + There had been a note of horror in her voice. Henry's was a simple mind, + and the obvious solution, that Minnie thought that he had drunk too much + red wine at the Italian restaurant, did not occur to him. + </p> + <p> + He was, indeed, at the moment too busy to analyse vocal inflections. They + were on the floor now, and it was beginning to creep upon him like a chill + wind that the scenario which he had mapped out was subject to unforeseen + alterations. + </p> + <p> + At first all had been well. They had been almost alone on the floor, and + he had begun moving his feet along dotted line A B with the smooth vim + which had characterized the last few of his course of lessons. And then, + as if by magic, he was in the midst of a crowd—a mad, jigging crowd + that seemed to have no sense of direction, no ability whatever to keep out + of his way. For a moment the tuition of weeks stood by him. Then, a shock, + a stifled cry from Minnie, and the first collision had occurred. And with + that all the knowledge which he had so painfully acquired passed from + Henry's mind, leaving it an agitated blank. This was a situation for which + his slidings round an empty room had not prepared him. Stage-fright at its + worst came upon him. Somebody charged him in the back and asked + querulously where he thought he was going. As he turned with a half-formed + notion of apologizing, somebody else rammed him from the other side. He + had a momentary feeling as if he were going down the Niagara Rapids in a + barrel, and then he was lying on the floor with Minnie on top of him. + Somebody tripped over his head. + </p> + <p> + He sat up. Somebody helped him to his feet. He was aware of Sidney Mercer + at his side. + </p> + <p> + 'Do it again,' said Sidney, all grin and sleek immaculateness. 'It went + down big, but lots of them didn't see it.' + </p> + <p> + The place was full of demon laughter. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + 'Min!' said Henry. + </p> + <p> + They were in the parlour of their little flat. Her back was towards him, + and he could not see her face. She did not answer. She preserved the + silence which she had maintained since they had left the restaurant. Not + once during the journey home had she spoken. + </p> + <p> + The clock on the mantelpiece ticked on. Outside an Elevated train rumbled + by. Voices came from the street. + </p> + <p> + 'Min, I'm sorry.' + </p> + <p> + Silence. + </p> + <p> + 'I thought I could do it. Oh, Lord!' Misery was in every note of Henry's + voice. 'I've been taking lessons every day since that night we went to + that place first. It's no good—I guess it's like the old woman said. + I've got two left feet, and it's no use my ever trying to do it. I kept it + secret from you, what I was doing. I wanted it to be a wonderful surprise + for you on your birthday. I knew how sick and tired you were getting of + being married to a man who never took you out, because he couldn't dance. + I thought it was up to me to learn, and give you a good time, like other + men's wives. I—' + </p> + <p> + 'Henry!' + </p> + <p> + She had turned, and with a dull amazement he saw that her whole face had + altered. Her eyes were shining with a radiant happiness. + </p> + <p> + 'Henry! Was <i>that</i> why you went to that house—to take dancing + lessons?' + </p> + <p> + He stared at her without speaking. She came to him, laughing. + </p> + <p> + 'So that was why you pretended you were still doing your walks?' + </p> + <p> + 'You knew!' + </p> + <p> + 'I saw you come out of that house. I was just going to the station at the + end of the street, and I saw you. There was a girl with you, a girl with + yellow hair. You hugged her!' + </p> + <p> + Henry licked his dry lips. + </p> + <p> + 'Min,' he said huskily. 'You won't believe it, but she was trying to teach + me the Jelly Roll.' + </p> + <p> + She held him by the lapels of his coat. + </p> + <p> + 'Of course I believe it. I understand it all now. I thought at the time + that you were just saying good-bye to her! Oh, Henry, why ever didn't you + tell me what you were doing? Oh, yes, I know you wanted it to be a + surprise for me on my birthday, but you must have seen there was something + wrong. You must have seen that I thought something. Surely you noticed how + I've been these last weeks?' + </p> + <p> + 'I thought it was just that you were finding it dull.' + </p> + <p> + 'Dull! Here, with you!' + </p> + <p> + 'It was after you danced that night with Sidney Mercer. I thought the + whole thing out. You're so much younger than I, Min. It didn't seem right + for you to have to spend your life being read to by a fellow like me.' + </p> + <p> + 'But I loved it!' + </p> + <p> + 'You had to dance. Every girl has to. Women can't do without it.' + </p> + <p> + 'This one can. Henry, listen! You remember how ill and worn out I was when + you met me first at that farm? Do you know why it was? It was because I + had been slaving away for years at one of those places where you go in and + pay five cents to dance with the lady instructresses. I was a lady + instructress. Henry! Just think what I went through! Every day having to + drag a million heavy men with large feet round a big room. I tell you, you + are a professional compared with some of them! They trod on my feet and + leaned their two hundred pounds on me and nearly killed me. Now perhaps + you can understand why I'm not crazy about dancing! Believe me, Henry, the + kindest thing you can do to me is to tell me I must never dance again.' + </p> + <p> + 'You—you—' he gulped. 'Do you really mean that you can—can + stand the sort of life we're living here? You really don't find it dull?' + </p> + <p> + 'Dull!' + </p> + <p> + She ran to the bookshelf, and came back with a large volume. + </p> + <p> + 'Read to me, Henry, dear. Read me something now. It seems ages and ages + since you used to. Read me something out of the <i>Encyclopaedia</i>!' + </p> + <p> + Henry was looking at the book in his hand. In the midst of a joy that + almost overwhelmed him, his orderly mind was conscious of something wrong. + </p> + <p> + 'But this is the MED-MUM volume, darling.' + </p> + <p> + 'Is it? Well, that'll be all right. Read me all about "Mum".' + </p> + <p> + 'But we're only in the CAL-CHA—' He wavered. 'Oh, well—I' he + went on, recklessly. 'I don't care. Do you?' + </p> + <p> + 'No. Sit down here, dear, and I'll sit on the floor.' + </p> + <p> + Henry cleared his throat. + </p> + <p> + '"Milicz, or Militsch (d. 1374), Bohemian divine, was the most influential + among those preachers and writers in Moravia and Bohemia who, during the + fourteenth century, in a certain sense paved the way for the reforming + activity of Huss."' + </p> + <p> + He looked down. Minnie's soft hair was resting against his knee. He put + out a hand and stroked it. She turned and looked up, and he met her big + eyes. + </p> + <p> + 'Can you beat it?' said Henry, silently, to himself. + </p> + <div style="height: 6em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Man with Two Left Feet, by P. G. Wodehouse + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN WITH TWO LEFT FEET *** + +***** This file should be named 7471-h.htm or 7471-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/7/4/7/7471/ + +Produced by Suzanne L. 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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: The Man with Two Left Feet + and Other Stories + +Author: P. G. Wodehouse + +Posting Date: March 6, 2010 [EBook #7471] +Release Date: February, 2005 +First Posted: May 6, 2003 +Last Updated: October 19, 2004 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN WITH TWO LEFT FEET *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne L. Shell, Charles Franks and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + + + + + + + +THE MAN WITH TWO LEFT FEET + +_and Other Stories_ + + + + +by P. G. WODEHOUSE + +1917 + + + + + +CONTENTS + + +BILL THE BLOODHOUND + +EXTRICATING YOUNG GUSSIE + +WILTON'S HOLIDAY + +THE MIXER--I + +THE MIXER--II + +CROWNED HEADS + +AT GEISENHEIMER'S + +THE MAKING OF MAC'S + +ONE TOUCH OF NATURE + +BLACK FOR LUCK + +THE ROMANCE OF AN UGLY POLICEMAN + +A SEA OF TROUBLES + +THE MAN WITH TWO LEFT FEET + + + + +BILL THE BLOODHOUND + + +There's a divinity that shapes our ends. Consider the case of Henry +Pifield Rice, detective. + +I must explain Henry early, to avoid disappointment. If I simply said +he was a detective, and let it go at that, I should be obtaining the +reader's interest under false pretences. He was really only a sort of +detective, a species of sleuth. At Stafford's International +Investigation Bureau, in the Strand, where he was employed, they did +not require him to solve mysteries which had baffled the police. He had +never measured a footprint in his life, and what he did not know about +bloodstains would have filled a library. The sort of job they gave +Henry was to stand outside a restaurant in the rain, and note what time +someone inside left it. In short, it is not 'Pifield Rice, +Investigator. No. 1.--The Adventure of the Maharajah's Ruby' that I +submit to your notice, but the unsensational doings of a quite +commonplace young man, variously known to his comrades at the Bureau as +'Fathead', 'That blighter what's-his-name', and 'Here, you!' + +Henry lived in a boarding-house in Guildford Street. One day a new girl +came to the boarding-house, and sat next to Henry at meals. Her name +was Alice Weston. She was small and quiet, and rather pretty. They got +on splendidly. Their conversation, at first confined to the weather and +the moving-pictures, rapidly became more intimate. Henry was surprised +to find that she was on the stage, in the chorus. Previous chorus-girls +at the boarding-house had been of a more pronounced type--good girls, +but noisy, and apt to wear beauty-spots. Alice Weston was different. + +'I'm rehearsing at present,' she said. 'I'm going out on tour next +month in "The Girl From Brighton". What do you do, Mr Rice?' + +Henry paused for a moment before replying. He knew how sensational he +was going to be. + +'I'm a detective.' + +Usually, when he told girls his profession, squeaks of amazed +admiration greeted him. Now he was chagrined to perceive in the brown +eyes that met his distinct disapproval. + +'What's the matter?' he said, a little anxiously, for even at this +early stage in their acquaintance he was conscious of a strong desire +to win her approval. 'Don't you like detectives?' + +'I don't know. Somehow I shouldn't have thought you were one.' + +This restored Henry's equanimity somewhat. Naturally a detective does +not want to look like a detective and give the whole thing away right +at the start. + +'I think--you won't be offended?' + +'Go on.' + +'I've always looked on it as rather a _sneaky_ job.' + +'Sneaky!' moaned Henry. + +'Well, creeping about, spying on people.' + +Henry was appalled. She had defined his own trade to a nicety. There +might be detectives whose work was above this reproach, but he was a +confirmed creeper, and he knew it. It wasn't his fault. The boss told +him to creep, and he crept. If he declined to creep, he would be sacked +_instanter_. It was hard, and yet he felt the sting of her words, +and in his bosom the first seeds of dissatisfaction with his occupation +took root. + +You might have thought that this frankness on the girl's part would +have kept Henry from falling in love with her. Certainly the dignified +thing would have been to change his seat at table, and take his meals +next to someone who appreciated the romance of detective work a little +more. But no, he remained where he was, and presently Cupid, who never +shoots with a surer aim than through the steam of boarding-house hash, +sniped him where he sat. + +He proposed to Alice Weston. She refused him. + +'It's not because I'm not fond of you. I think you're the nicest man I +ever met.' A good deal of assiduous attention had enabled Henry to win +this place in her affections. He had worked patiently and well before +actually putting his fortune to the test. 'I'd marry you tomorrow if +things were different. But I'm on the stage, and I mean to stick there. +Most of the girls want to get off it, but not me. And one thing I'll +never do is marry someone who isn't in the profession. My sister +Genevieve did, and look what happened to her. She married a commercial +traveller, and take it from me he travelled. She never saw him for more +than five minutes in the year, except when he was selling gent's +hosiery in the same town where she was doing her refined speciality, +and then he'd just wave his hand and whiz by, and start travelling +again. My husband has got to be close by, where I can see him. I'm +sorry, Henry, but I know I'm right.' + +It seemed final, but Henry did not wholly despair. He was a resolute +young man. You have to be to wait outside restaurants in the rain for +any length of time. + +He had an inspiration. He sought out a dramatic agent. + +'I want to go on the stage, in musical comedy.' + +'Let's see you dance.' + +'I can't dance.' + +'Sing,' said the agent. 'Stop singing,' added the agent, hastily. + +'You go away and have a nice cup of hot tea,' said the agent, +soothingly, 'and you'll be as right as anything in the morning.' + +Henry went away. + +A few days later, at the Bureau, his fellow-detective Simmonds hailed +him. + +'Here, you! The boss wants you. Buck up!' + +Mr Stafford was talking into the telephone. He replaced the receiver as +Henry entered. + +'Oh, Rice, here's a woman wants her husband shadowed while he's on the +road. He's an actor. I'm sending you. Go to this address, and get +photographs and all particulars. You'll have to catch the eleven +o'clock train on Friday.' + +'Yes, sir.' + +'He's in "The Girl From Brighton" company. They open at Bristol.' + +It sometimes seemed to Henry as if Fate did it on purpose. If the +commission had had to do with any other company, it would have been +well enough, for, professionally speaking, it was the most important +with which he had ever been entrusted. If he had never met Alice +Weston, and heard her views upon detective work, he would have been +pleased and flattered. Things being as they were, it was Henry's +considered opinion that Fate had slipped one over on him. + +In the first place, what torture to be always near her, unable to +reveal himself; to watch her while she disported herself in the company +of other men. He would be disguised, and she would not recognize him; +but he would recognize her, and his sufferings would be dreadful. + +In the second place, to have to do his creeping about and spying +practically in her presence-- + +Still, business was business. + +At five minutes to eleven on the morning named he was at the station, a +false beard and spectacles shielding his identity from the public eye. +If you had asked him he would have said that he was a Scotch business +man. As a matter of fact, he looked far more like a motor-car coming +through a haystack. + +The platform was crowded. Friends of the company had come to see the +company off. Henry looked on discreetly from behind a stout porter, +whose bulk formed a capital screen. In spite of himself, he was +impressed. The stage at close quarters always thrilled him. He +recognized celebrities. The fat man in the brown suit was Walter +Jelliffe, the comedian and star of the company. He stared keenly at him +through the spectacles. Others of the famous were scattered about. He +saw Alice. She was talking to a man with a face like a hatchet, and +smiling, too, as if she enjoyed it. Behind the matted foliage which he +had inflicted on his face, Henry's teeth came together with a snap. + +In the weeks that followed, as he dogged 'The Girl From Brighton' +company from town to town, it would be difficult to say whether Henry +was happy or unhappy. On the one hand, to realize that Alice was so +near and yet so inaccessible was a constant source of misery; yet, on +the other, he could not but admit that he was having the very dickens +of a time, loafing round the country like this. + +He was made for this sort of life, he considered. Fate had placed him +in a London office, but what he really enjoyed was this unfettered +travel. Some gipsy strain in him rendered even the obvious discomforts +of theatrical touring agreeable. He liked catching trains; he liked +invading strange hotels; above all, he revelled in the artistic +pleasure of watching unsuspecting fellow-men as if they were so many +ants. + +That was really the best part of the whole thing. It was all very well +for Alice to talk about creeping and spying, but, if you considered it +without bias, there was nothing degrading about it at all. It was an +art. It took brains and a genius for disguise to make a man a +successful creeper and spyer. You couldn't simply say to yourself, 'I +will creep.' If you attempted to do it in your own person, you would be +detected instantly. You had to be an adept at masking your personality. +You had to be one man at Bristol and another quite different man at +Hull--especially if, like Henry, you were of a gregarious disposition, +and liked the society of actors. + +The stage had always fascinated Henry. To meet even minor members of +the profession off the boards gave him a thrill. There was a resting +juvenile, of fit-up calibre, at his boarding-house who could always get +a shilling out of him simply by talking about how he had jumped in and +saved the show at the hamlets which he had visited in the course of his +wanderings. And on this 'Girl From Brighton' tour he was in constant +touch with men who really amounted to something. Walter Jelliffe had +been a celebrity when Henry was going to school; and Sidney Crane, the +baritone, and others of the lengthy cast, were all players not unknown +in London. Henry courted them assiduously. + +It had not been hard to scrape acquaintance with them. The principals +of the company always put up at the best hotel, and--his expenses being +paid by his employer--so did Henry. It was the easiest thing possible +to bridge with a well-timed whisky-and-soda the gulf between +non-acquaintance and warm friendship. Walter Jelliffe, in particular, +was peculiarly accessible. Every time Henry accosted him--as a +different individual, of course--and renewed in a fresh disguise the +friendship which he had enjoyed at the last town, Walter Jelliffe met +him more than half-way. + +It was in the sixth week of the tour that the comedian, promoting him +from mere casual acquaintanceship, invited him to come up to his room +and smoke a cigar. + +Henry was pleased and flattered. Jelliffe was a personage, always +surrounded by admirers, and the compliment was consequently of a high +order. + +He lit his cigar. Among his friends at the Green-Room Club it was +unanimously held that Walter Jelliffe's cigars brought him within the +scope of the law forbidding the carrying of concealed weapons; but +Henry would have smoked the gift of such a man if it had been a +cabbage-leaf. He puffed away contentedly. He was made up as an old +Indian colonel that week, and he complimented his host on the aroma +with a fine old-world courtesy. + +Walter Jelliffe seemed gratified. + +'Quite comfortable?' he asked. + +'Quite, I thank you,' said Henry, fondling his silver moustache. + +'That's right. And now tell me, old man, which of us is it you're +trailing?' + +Henry nearly swallowed his cigar. + +'What do you mean?' + +'Oh, come,' protested Jelliffe; 'there's no need to keep it up with me. +I know you're a detective. The question is, Who's the man you're after? +That's what we've all been wondering all this time.' + +All! They had all been wondering! It was worse than Henry could have +imagined. Till now he had pictured his position with regard to 'The +Girl From Brighton' company rather as that of some scientist who, +seeing but unseen, keeps a watchful eye on the denizens of a drop of +water under his microscope. And they had all detected him--every one of +them. + +It was a stunning blow. If there was one thing on which Henry prided +himself it was the impenetrability of his disguises. He might be slow; +he might be on the stupid side; but he could disguise himself. He had a +variety of disguises, each designed to befog the public more hopelessly +than the last. + +Going down the street, you would meet a typical commercial traveller, +dapper and alert. Anon, you encountered a heavily bearded Australian. +Later, maybe, it was a courteous old retired colonel who stopped you +and inquired the way to Trafalgar Square. Still later, a rather flashy +individual of the sporting type asked you for a match for his cigar. +Would you have suspected for one instant that each of these widely +differing personalities was in reality one man? + +Certainly you would. + +Henry did not know it, but he had achieved in the eyes of the small +servant who answered the front-door bell at his boarding-house a +well-established reputation as a humorist of the more practical kind. +It was his habit to try his disguises on her. He would ring the bell, +inquire for the landlady, and when Bella had gone, leap up the stairs +to his room. Here he would remove the disguise, resume his normal +appearance, and come downstairs again, humming a careless air. Bella, +meanwhile, in the kitchen, would be confiding to her ally the cook that +'Mr Rice had jest come in, lookin' sort o' funny again'. + +He sat and gaped at Walter Jelliffe. The comedian regarded him +curiously. + +'You look at least a hundred years old,' he said. 'What are you made up +as? A piece of Gorgonzola?' + +Henry glanced hastily at the mirror. Yes, he did look rather old. He +must have overdone some of the lines on his forehead. He looked +something between a youngish centenarian and a nonagenarian who had +seen a good deal of trouble. + +'If you knew how you were demoralizing the company,' Jelliffe went on, +'you would drop it. As steady and quiet a lot of boys as ever you met +till you came along. Now they do nothing but bet on what disguise +you're going to choose for the next town. I don't see why you need to +change so often. You were all right as the Scotchman at Bristol. We +were all saying how nice you looked. You should have stuck to that. But +what do you do at Hull but roll in in a scrubby moustache and a tweed +suit, looking rotten. However, all that is beside the point. It's a +free country. If you like to spoil your beauty, I suppose there's no +law against it. What I want to know is, who's the man? Whose track are +you sniffing on, Bill? You'll pardon my calling you Bill. You're known +as Bill the Bloodhound in the company. Who's the man?' + +'Never mind,' said Henry. + +He was aware, as he made it, that it was not a very able retort, but he +was feeling too limp for satisfactory repartee. Criticisms in the +Bureau, dealing with his alleged solidity of skull, he did not resent. +He attributed them to man's natural desire to chaff his fellow-man. But +to be unmasked by the general public in this way was another matter. It +struck at the root of all things. + +'But I do mind,' objected Jelliffe. 'It's most important. A lot of +money hangs on it. We've got a sweepstake on in the company, the holder +of the winning name to take the entire receipts. Come on. Who is he?' + +Henry rose and made for the door. His feelings were too deep for words. +Even a minor detective has his professional pride; and the knowledge +that his espionage is being made the basis of sweepstakes by his quarry +cuts this to the quick. + +'Here, don't go! Where are you going?' + +'Back to London,' said Henry, bitterly. 'It's a lot of good my staying +here now, isn't it?' + +'I should say it was--to me. Don't be in a hurry. You're thinking that, +now we know all about you, your utility as a sleuth has waned to some +extent. Is that it?' + +'Well?' + +'Well, why worry? What does it matter to you? You don't get paid by +results, do you? Your boss said "Trail along." Well, do it, then. I +should hate to lose you. I don't suppose you know it, but you've been +the best mascot this tour that I've ever come across. Right from the +start we've been playing to enormous business. I'd rather kill a black +cat than lose you. Drop the disguises, and stay with us. Come behind +all you want, and be sociable.' + +A detective is only human. The less of a detective, the more human he +is. Henry was not much of a detective, and his human traits were +consequently highly developed. From a boy, he had never been able to +resist curiosity. If a crowd collected in the street he always added +himself to it, and he would have stopped to gape at a window with +'Watch this window' written on it, if he had been running for his life +from wild bulls. He was, and always had been, intensely desirous of +some day penetrating behind the scenes of a theatre. + +And there was another thing. At last, if he accepted this invitation, +he would be able to see and speak to Alice Weston, and interfere with +the manoeuvres of the hatchet-faced man, on whom he had brooded with +suspicion and jealousy since that first morning at the station. To see +Alice! Perhaps, with eloquence, to talk her out of that ridiculous +resolve of hers! + +'Why, there's something in that,' he said. + +'Rather! Well, that's settled. And now, touching that sweep, who +_is_ it?' + +'I can't tell you that. You see, so far as that goes, I'm just where I +was before. I can still watch--whoever it is I'm watching.' + +'Dash it, so you can. I didn't think of that,' said Jelliffe, who +possessed a sensitive conscience. 'Purely between ourselves, it isn't +_me_, is it?' + +Henry eyed him inscrutably. He could look inscrutable at times. + +'Ah!' he said, and left quickly, with the feeling that, however poorly +he had shown up during the actual interview, his exit had been good. He +might have been a failure in the matter of disguise, but nobody could +have put more quiet sinister-ness into that 'Ah!' It did much to soothe +him and ensure a peaceful night's rest. + +On the following night, for the first time in his life, Henry found +himself behind the scenes of a theatre, and instantly began to +experience all the complex emotions which come to the layman in that +situation. That is to say, he felt like a cat which has strayed into a +strange hostile back-yard. He was in a new world, inhabited by weird +creatures, who flitted about in an eerie semi-darkness, like brightly +coloured animals in a cavern. + +'The Girl From Brighton' was one of those exotic productions specially +designed for the Tired Business Man. It relied for a large measure of +its success on the size and appearance of its chorus, and on their +constant change of costume. Henry, as a consequence, was the centre of +a kaleidoscopic whirl of feminine loveliness, dressed to represent +such varying flora and fauna as rabbits, Parisian students, colleens, +Dutch peasants, and daffodils. Musical comedy is the Irish stew of the +drama. Anything may be put into it, with the certainty that it will +improve the general effect. + +He scanned the throng for a sight of Alice. Often as he had seen the +piece in the course of its six weeks' wandering in the wilderness he +had never succeeded in recognizing her from the front of the house. +Quite possibly, he thought, she might be on the stage already, hidden +in a rose-tree or some other shrub, ready at the signal to burst forth +upon the audience in short skirts; for in 'The Girl From Brighton' +almost anything could turn suddenly into a chorus-girl. + +Then he saw her, among the daffodils. She was not a particularly +convincing daffodil, but she looked good to Henry. With wabbling knees +he butted his way through the crowd and seized her hand +enthusiastically. + +'Why, Henry! Where did you come from?' + +'I _am_ glad to see you!' + +'How did you get here?' + +'I _am_ glad to see you!' + +At this point the stage-manager, bellowing from the prompt-box, urged +Henry to desist. It is one of the mysteries of behind-the-scenes +acoustics that a whisper from any minor member of the company can be +heard all over the house, while the stage-manager can burst himself +without annoying the audience. + +Henry, awed by authority, relapsed into silence. From the unseen stage +came the sound of someone singing a song about the moon. June was also +mentioned. He recognized the song as one that had always bored him. He +disliked the woman who was singing it--a Miss Clarice Weaver, who +played the heroine of the piece to Sidney Crane's hero. + +In his opinion he was not alone. Miss Weaver was not popular in the +company. She had secured the role rather as a testimony of personal +esteem from the management than because of any innate ability. She sang +badly, acted indifferently, and was uncertain what to do with her +hands. All these things might have been forgiven her, but she +supplemented them by the crime known in stage circles as 'throwing her +weight about'. That is to say, she was hard to please, and, when not +pleased, apt to say so in no uncertain voice. To his personal friends +Walter Jelliffe had frequently confided that, though not a rich man, he +was in the market with a substantial reward for anyone who was man +enough to drop a ton of iron on Miss Weaver. + +Tonight the song annoyed Henry more than usual, for he knew that very +soon the daffodils were due on the stage to clinch the verisimilitude +of the scene by dancing the tango with the rabbits. He endeavoured to +make the most of the time at his disposal. + +'I _am_ glad to see you!' he said. + +'Sh-h!' said the stage-manager. + +Henry was discouraged. Romeo could not have made love under these +conditions. And then, just when he was pulling himself together to +begin again, she was torn from him by the exigencies of the play. + +He wandered moodily off into the dusty semi-darkness. He avoided the +prompt-box, whence he could have caught a glimpse of her, being loath +to meet the stage-manager just at present. + +Walter Jelliffe came up to him, as he sat on a box and brooded on life. + +'A little less of the double forte, old man,' he said. 'Miss Weaver has +been kicking about the noise on the side. She wanted you thrown out, +but I said you were my mascot, and I would die sooner than part with +you. But I should go easy on the chest-notes, I think, all the same.' + +Henry nodded moodily. He was depressed. He had the feeling, which comes +so easily to the intruder behind the scenes, that nobody loved him. + +The piece proceeded. From the front of the house roars of laughter +indicated the presence on the stage of Walter Jelliffe, while now and +then a lethargic silence suggested that Miss Clarice Weaver was in +action. From time to time the empty space about him filled with girls +dressed in accordance with the exuberant fancy of the producer of the +piece. When this happened, Henry would leap from his seat and endeavour +to locate Alice; but always, just as he thought he had done so, the +hidden orchestra would burst into melody and the chorus would be called +to the front. + +It was not till late in the second act that he found an opportunity for +further speech. + +The plot of 'The Girl From Brighton' had by then reached a critical +stage. The situation was as follows: The hero, having been disinherited +by his wealthy and titled father for falling in love with the heroine, +a poor shop-girl, has disguised himself (by wearing a different +coloured necktie) and has come in pursuit of her to a well-known +seaside resort, where, having disguised herself by changing her dress, +she is serving as a waitress in the Rotunda, on the Esplanade. The +family butler, disguised as a Bath-chair man, has followed the hero, +and the wealthy and titled father, disguised as an Italian +opera-singer, has come to the place for a reason which, though +extremely sound, for the moment eludes the memory. Anyhow, he is there, +and they all meet on the Esplanade. Each recognizes the other, but +thinks he himself is unrecognized. _Exeunt_ all, hurriedly, +leaving the heroine alone on the stage. + +It is a crisis in the heroine's life. She meets it bravely. She sings a +song entitled 'My Honolulu Queen', with chorus of Japanese girls and +Bulgarian officers. + +Alice was one of the Japanese girls. + +She was standing a little apart from the other Japanese girls. Henry +was on her with a bound. Now was his time. He felt keyed up, full of +persuasive words. In the interval which had elapsed since their last +conversation yeasty emotions had been playing the dickens with his +self-control. It is practically impossible for a novice, suddenly +introduced behind the scenes of a musical comedy, not to fall in love +with somebody; and, if he is already in love, his fervour is increased +to a dangerous point. + +Henry felt that it was now or never. He forgot that it was perfectly +possible--indeed, the reasonable course--to wait till the performance +was over, and renew his appeal to Alice to marry him on the way back to +her hotel. He had the feeling that he had got just about a quarter of a +minute. Quick action! That was Henry's slogan. + +He seized her hand. + +'Alice!' + +'Sh-h!' hissed the stage-manager. + +'Listen! I love you. I'm crazy about you. What does it matter whether +I'm on the stage or not? I love you.' + +'Stop that row there!' + +'Won't you marry me?' + +She looked at him. It seemed to him that she hesitated. + +'Cut it out!' bellowed the stage-manager, and Henry cut it out. + +And at this moment, when his whole fate hung in the balance, there came +from the stage that devastating high note which is the sign that the +solo is over and that the chorus are now about to mobilize. As if drawn +by some magnetic power, she suddenly receded from him, and went on to +the stage. + +A man in Henry's position and frame of mind is not responsible for his +actions. He saw nothing but her; he was blind to the fact that +important manoeuvres were in progress. All he understood was that she +was going from him, and that he must stop her and get this thing +settled. + +He clutched at her. She was out of range, and getting farther away +every instant. + +He sprang forward. + +The advice that should be given to every young man starting life is--if +you happen to be behind the scenes at a theatre, never spring forward. +The whole architecture of the place is designed to undo those who so +spring. Hours before, the stage-carpenters have laid their traps, and +in the semi-darkness you cannot but fall into them. + +The trap into which Henry fell was a raised board. It was not a very +highly-raised board. It was not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a +church-door, but 'twas enough--it served. Stubbing it squarely with his +toe, Henry shot forward, all arms and legs. + +It is the instinct of Man, in such a situation, to grab at the nearest +support. Henry grabbed at the Hotel Superba, the pride of the +Esplanade. It was a thin wooden edifice, and it supported him for +perhaps a tenth of a second. Then he staggered with it into the +limelight, tripped over a Bulgarian officer who was inflating himself +for a deep note, and finally fell in a complicated heap as exactly in +the centre of the stage as if he had been a star of years' standing. + +It went well; there was no question of that. Previous audiences had +always been rather cold towards this particular song, but this one got +on its feet and yelled for more. From all over the house came rapturous +demands that Henry should go back and do it again. + +But Henry was giving no encores. He rose to his feet, a little stunned, +and automatically began to dust his clothes. The orchestra, unnerved by +this unrehearsed infusion of new business, had stopped playing. +Bulgarian officers and Japanese girls alike seemed unequal to the +situation. They stood about, waiting for the next thing to break loose. +From somewhere far away came faintly the voice of the stage-manager +inventing new words, new combinations of words, and new throat noises. + +And then Henry, massaging a stricken elbow, was aware of Miss Weaver at +his side. Looking up, he caught Miss Weaver's eye. + +A familiar stage-direction of melodrama reads, 'Exit cautious through +gap in hedge'. It was Henry's first appearance on any stage, but he did +it like a veteran. + +'My dear fellow,' said Walter Jelliffe. The hour was midnight, and he +was sitting in Henry's bedroom at the hotel. Leaving the theatre, Henry +had gone to bed almost instinctively. Bed seemed the only haven for +him. 'My dear fellow, don't apologize. You have put me under lasting +obligations. In the first place, with your unerring sense of the stage, +you saw just the spot where the piece needed livening up, and you +livened it up. That was good; but far better was it that you also sent +our Miss Weaver into violent hysterics, from which she emerged to hand +in her notice. She leaves us tomorrow.' + +Henry was appalled at the extent of the disaster for which he was +responsible. + +'What will you do?' + +'Do! Why, it's what we have all been praying for--a miracle which +should eject Miss Weaver. It needed a genius like you to come to bring +it off. Sidney Crane's wife can play the part without rehearsal. She +understudied it all last season in London. Crane has just been speaking +to her on the phone, and she is catching the night express.' + +Henry sat up in bed. + +'What!' + +'What's the trouble now?' + +'Sidney Crane's wife?' + +'What about her?' + +A bleakness fell upon Henry's soul. + +'She was the woman who was employing me. Now I shall be taken off the +job and have to go back to London.' + +'You don't mean that it was really Crane's wife?' + +Jelliffe was regarding him with a kind of awe. + +'Laddie,' he said, in a hushed voice, 'you almost scare me. There seems +to be no limit to your powers as a mascot. You fill the house every +night, you get rid of the Weaver woman, and now you tell me this. I +drew Crane in the sweep, and I would have taken twopence for my chance +of winning it.' + +'I shall get a telegram from my boss tomorrow recalling me.' + +'Don't go. Stick with me. Join the troupe.' + +Henry stared. + +'What do you mean? I can't sing or act.' + +Jelliffe's voice thrilled with earnestness. + +'My boy, I can go down the Strand and pick up a hundred fellows who can +sing and act. I don't want them. I turn them away. But a seventh son of +a seventh son like you, a human horseshoe like you, a king of mascots +like you--they don't make them nowadays. They've lost the pattern. If +you like to come with me I'll give you a contract for any number of +years you suggest. I need you in my business.' He rose. 'Think it over, +laddie, and let me know tomorrow. Look here upon this picture, and on +that. As a sleuth you are poor. You couldn't detect a bass-drum in a +telephone-booth. You have no future. You are merely among those +present. But as a mascot--my boy, you're the only thing in sight. You +can't help succeeding on the stage. You don't have to know how to act. +Look at the dozens of good actors who are out of jobs. Why? Unlucky. No +other reason. With your luck and a little experience you'll be a star +before you know you've begun. Think it over, and let me know in the +morning.' + +Before Henry's eyes there rose a sudden vision of Alice: Alice no +longer unattainable; Alice walking on his arm down the aisle; Alice +mending his socks; Alice with her heavenly hands fingering his salary +envelope. + +'Don't go,' he said. 'Don't go. I'll let you know now.' + + * * * * * + +The scene is the Strand, hard by Bedford Street; the time, that restful +hour of the afternoon when they of the gnarled faces and the bright +clothing gather together in groups to tell each other how good they +are. + +Hark! A voice. + +'Rather! Courtneidge and the Guv'nor keep on trying to get me, but I +turn them down every time. "No," I said to Malone only yesterday, "not +for me! I'm going with old Wally Jelliffe, the same as usual, and there +isn't the money in the Mint that'll get me away." Malone got all worked +up. He--' + +It is the voice of Pifield Rice, actor. + + + + +EXTRICATING YOUNG GUSSIE + + +She sprang it on me before breakfast. There in seven words you have a +complete character sketch of my Aunt Agatha. I could go on indefinitely +about brutality and lack of consideration. I merely say that she routed +me out of bed to listen to her painful story somewhere in the small +hours. It can't have been half past eleven when Jeeves, my man, woke me +out of the dreamless and broke the news: + +'Mrs Gregson to see you, sir.' + +I thought she must be walking in her sleep, but I crawled out of bed +and got into a dressing-gown. I knew Aunt Agatha well enough to know +that, if she had come to see me, she was going to see me. That's the +sort of woman she is. + +She was sitting bolt upright in a chair, staring into space. When I +came in she looked at me in that darn critical way that always makes me +feel as if I had gelatine where my spine ought to be. Aunt Agatha is +one of those strong-minded women. I should think Queen Elizabeth must +have been something like her. She bosses her husband, Spencer Gregson, +a battered little chappie on the Stock Exchange. She bosses my cousin, +Gussie Mannering-Phipps. She bosses her sister-in-law, Gussie's mother. +And, worst of all, she bosses me. She has an eye like a man-eating +fish, and she has got moral suasion down to a fine point. + +I dare say there are fellows in the world--men of blood and iron, don't +you know, and all that sort of thing--whom she couldn't intimidate; but +if you're a chappie like me, fond of a quiet life, you simply curl into +a ball when you see her coming, and hope for the best. My experience is +that when Aunt Agatha wants you to do a thing you do it, or else you +find yourself wondering why those fellows in the olden days made such a +fuss when they had trouble with the Spanish Inquisition. + +'Halloa, Aunt Agatha!' I said + +'Bertie,' she said, 'you look a sight. You look perfectly dissipated.' + +I was feeling like a badly wrapped brown-paper parcel. I'm never at my +best in the early morning. I said so. + +'Early morning! I had breakfast three hours ago, and have been walking +in the park ever since, trying to compose my thoughts.' + +If I ever breakfasted at half past eight I should walk on the +Embankment, trying to end it all in a watery grave. + +'I am extremely worried, Bertie. That is why I have come to you.' + +And then I saw she was going to start something, and I bleated weakly +to Jeeves to bring me tea. But she had begun before I could get it. + +'What are your immediate plans, Bertie?' + +'Well, I rather thought of tottering out for a bite of lunch later on, +and then possibly staggering round to the club, and after that, if I +felt strong enough, I might trickle off to Walton Heath for a round of +golf.' + +I am not interested in your totterings and tricklings. I mean, have you +any important engagements in the next week or so?' + +I scented danger. + +'Rather,' I said. 'Heaps! Millions! Booked solid!' + +'What are they?' + +'I--er--well, I don't quite know.' + +'I thought as much. You have no engagements. Very well, then, I want +you to start immediately for America.' + +'America!' + +Do not lose sight of the fact that all this was taking place on an +empty stomach, shortly after the rising of the lark. + +'Yes, America. I suppose even you have heard of America?' + +'But why America?' + +'Because that is where your Cousin Gussie is. He is in New York, and I +can't get at him.' + +'What's Gussie been doing?' + +'Gussie is making a perfect idiot of himself.' + +To one who knew young Gussie as well as I did, the words opened up a +wide field for speculation. + +'In what way?' + +'He has lost his head over a creature.' + +On past performances this rang true. Ever since he arrived at man's +estate Gussie had been losing his head over creatures. He's that sort +of chap. But, as the creatures never seemed to lose their heads over +him, it had never amounted to much. + +'I imagine you know perfectly well why Gussie went to America, Bertie. +You know how wickedly extravagant your Uncle Cuthbert was.' + +She alluded to Gussie's governor, the late head of the family, and I am +bound to say she spoke the truth. Nobody was fonder of old Uncle +Cuthbert than I was, but everybody knows that, where money was +concerned, he was the most complete chump in the annals of the nation. +He had an expensive thirst. He never backed a horse that didn't get +housemaid's knee in the middle of the race. He had a system of beating +the bank at Monte Carlo which used to make the administration hang out +the bunting and ring the joy-bells when he was sighted in the offing. +Take him for all in all, dear old Uncle Cuthbert was as willing a +spender as ever called the family lawyer a bloodsucking vampire because +he wouldn't let Uncle Cuthbert cut down the timber to raise another +thousand. + +'He left your Aunt Julia very little money for a woman in her +position. Beechwood requires a great deal of keeping up, and +poor dear Spencer, though he does his best to help, has not +unlimited resources. It was clearly understood why Gussie went +to America. He is not clever, but he is very good-looking, and, +though he has no title, the Mannering-Phippses are one of the best +and oldest families in England. He had some excellent letters of +introduction, and when he wrote home to say that he had met the +most charming and beautiful girl in the world I felt quite happy. +He continued to rave about her for several mails, and then this +morning a letter has come from him in which he says, quite casually +as a sort of afterthought, that he knows we are broadminded enough +not to think any the worse of her because she is on the vaudeville +stage.' + +'Oh, I say!' + +'It was like a thunderbolt. The girl's name, it seems, is Ray Denison, +and according to Gussie she does something which he describes as a +single on the big time. What this degraded performance may be I have +not the least notion. As a further recommendation he states that she +lifted them out of their seats at Mosenstein's last week. Who she may +be, and how or why, and who or what Mr Mosenstein may be, I cannot tell +you.' + +'By jove,' I said, 'it's like a sort of thingummybob, isn't it? A sort +of fate, what?' + +'I fail to understand you.' + +'Well, Aunt Julia, you know, don't you know? Heredity, and so forth. +What's bred in the bone will come out in the wash, and all that kind of +thing, you know.' + +'Don't be absurd, Bertie.' + +That was all very well, but it was a coincidence for all that. Nobody +ever mentions it, and the family have been trying to forget it for +twenty-five years, but it's a known fact that my Aunt Julia, Gussie's +mother, was a vaudeville artist once, and a very good one, too, I'm +told. She was playing in pantomime at Drury Lane when Uncle Cuthbert +saw her first. It was before my time, of course, and long before I was +old enough to take notice the family had made the best of it, and Aunt +Agatha had pulled up her socks and put in a lot of educative work, and +with a microscope you couldn't tell Aunt Julia from a genuine +dyed-in-the-wool aristocrat. Women adapt themselves so quickly! + +I have a pal who married Daisy Trimble of the Gaiety, and when I meet +her now I feel like walking out of her presence backwards. But there +the thing was, and you couldn't get away from it. Gussie had vaudeville +blood in him, and it looked as if he were reverting to type, or +whatever they call it. + +'By Jove,' I said, for I am interested in this heredity stuff, 'perhaps +the thing is going to be a regular family tradition, like you read +about in books--a sort of Curse of the Mannering-Phippses, as it were. +Perhaps each head of the family's going to marry into vaudeville for +ever and ever. Unto the what-d'you-call-it generation, don't you know?' + +'Please do not be quite idiotic, Bertie. There is one head of the +family who is certainly not going to do it, and that is Gussie. And you +are going to America to stop him.' + +'Yes, but why me?' + +'Why you? You are too vexing, Bertie. Have you no sort of feeling for +the family? You are too lazy to try to be a credit to yourself, but at +least you can exert yourself to prevent Gussie's disgracing us. You are +going to America because you are Gussie's cousin, because you have +always been his closest friend, because you are the only one of the +family who has absolutely nothing to occupy his time except golf and +night clubs.' + +'I play a lot of auction.' + +'And as you say, idiotic gambling in low dens. If you require another +reason, you are going because I ask you as a personal favour.' + +What she meant was that, if I refused, she would exert the full bent of +her natural genius to make life a Hades for me. She held me with her +glittering eye. I have never met anyone who can give a better imitation +of the Ancient Mariner. + +'So you will start at once, won't you, Bertie?' + +I didn't hesitate. + +'Rather!' I said. 'Of course I will' + +Jeeves came in with the tea. + +'Jeeves,' I said, 'we start for America on Saturday.' + +'Very good, sir,' he said; 'which suit will you wear?' + +New York is a large city conveniently situated on the edge of America, +so that you step off the liner right on to it without an effort. You +can't lose your way. You go out of a barn and down some stairs, and +there you are, right in among it. The only possible objection any +reasonable chappie could find to the place is that they loose you into +it from the boat at such an ungodly hour. + +I left Jeeves to get my baggage safely past an aggregation of +suspicious-minded pirates who were digging for buried treasures among +my new shirts, and drove to Gussie's hotel, where I requested the squad +of gentlemanly clerks behind the desk to produce him. + +That's where I got my first shock. He wasn't there. I pleaded with them +to think again, and they thought again, but it was no good. No Augustus +Mannering-Phipps on the premises. + +I admit I was hard hit. There I was alone in a strange city and no +signs of Gussie. What was the next step? I am never one of the master +minds in the early morning; the old bean doesn't somehow seem to get +into its stride till pretty late in the p.m.'s, and I couldn't think +what to do. However, some instinct took me through a door at the back +of the lobby, and I found myself in a large room with an enormous +picture stretching across the whole of one wall, and under the picture +a counter, and behind the counter divers chappies in white, serving +drinks. They have barmen, don't you know, in New York, not barmaids. +Rum idea! + +I put myself unreservedly into the hands of one of the white chappies. +He was a friendly soul, and I told him the whole state of affairs. I +asked him what he thought would meet the case. + +He said that in a situation of that sort he usually prescribed a +'lightning whizzer', an invention of his own. He said this was what +rabbits trained on when they were matched against grizzly bears, and +there was only one instance on record of the bear having lasted three +rounds. So I tried a couple, and, by Jove! the man was perfectly right. +As I drained the second a great load seemed to fall from my heart, and +I went out in quite a braced way to have a look at the city. + +I was surprised to find the streets quite full. People were bustling +along as if it were some reasonable hour and not the grey dawn. In the +tramcars they were absolutely standing on each other's necks. Going to +business or something, I take it. Wonderful johnnies! + +The odd part of it was that after the first shock of seeing all this +frightful energy the thing didn't seem so strange. I've spoken to +fellows since who have been to New York, and they tell me they found it +just the same. Apparently there's something in the air, either the +ozone or the phosphates or something, which makes you sit up and take +notice. A kind of zip, as it were. A sort of bally freedom, if you know +what I mean, that gets into your blood and bucks you up, and makes you +feel that-- + + _God's in His Heaven: + All's right with the world_, + +and you don't care if you've got odd socks on. I can't express it +better than by saying that the thought uppermost in my mind, as I +walked about the place they call Times Square, was that there were +three thousand miles of deep water between me and my Aunt Agatha. + +It's a funny thing about looking for things. If you hunt for a needle +in a haystack you don't find it. If you don't give a darn whether you +ever see the needle or not it runs into you the first time you lean +against the stack. By the time I had strolled up and down once or +twice, seeing the sights and letting the white chappie's corrective +permeate my system, I was feeling that I wouldn't care if Gussie and I +never met again, and I'm dashed if I didn't suddenly catch sight of the +old lad, as large as life, just turning in at a doorway down the +street. + +I called after him, but he didn't hear me, so I legged it in pursuit +and caught him going into an office on the first floor. The name on the +door was Abe Riesbitter, Vaudeville Agent, and from the other side of +the door came the sound of many voices. + +He turned and stared at me. + +'Bertie! What on earth are you doing? Where have you sprung from? When +did you arrive?' + +'Landed this morning. I went round to your hotel, but they said you +weren't there. They had never heard of you.' + +'I've changed my name. I call myself George Wilson.' + +'Why on earth?' + +'Well, you try calling yourself Augustus Mannering-Phipps over here, +and see how it strikes you. You feel a perfect ass. I don't know what +it is about America, but the broad fact is that it's not a place where +you can call yourself Augustus Mannering-Phipps. And there's another +reason. I'll tell you later. Bertie, I've fallen in love with the +dearest girl in the world.' + +The poor old nut looked at me in such a deuced cat-like way, standing +with his mouth open, waiting to be congratulated, that I simply hadn't +the heart to tell him that I knew all about that already, and had come +over to the country for the express purpose of laying him a stymie. + +So I congratulated him. + +'Thanks awfully, old man,' he said. 'It's a bit premature, but I fancy +it's going to be all right. Come along in here, and I'll tell you about +it.' + +'What do you want in this place? It looks a rummy spot.' + +'Oh, that's part of the story. I'll tell you the whole thing.' + +We opened the door marked 'Waiting Room'. I never saw such a crowded +place in my life. The room was packed till the walls bulged. + +Gussie explained. + +'Pros,' he said, 'music-hall artistes, you know, waiting to see old Abe +Riesbitter. This is September the first, vaudeville's opening day. The +early fall,' said Gussie, who is a bit of a poet in his way, 'is +vaudeville's springtime. All over the country, as August wanes, +sparkling comediennes burst into bloom, the sap stirs in the veins of +tramp cyclists, and last year's contortionists, waking from their +summer sleep, tie themselves tentatively into knots. What I mean is, +this is the beginning of the new season, and everybody's out hunting +for bookings.' + +'But what do you want here?' + +'Oh, I've just got to see Abe about something. If you see a fat man +with about fifty-seven chins come out of that door there grab him, for +that'll be Abe. He's one of those fellows who advertise each step up +they take in the world by growing another chin. I'm told that way back +in the nineties he only had two. If you do grab Abe, remember that he +knows me as George Wilson.' + +'You said that you were going to explain that George Wilson business to +me, Gussie, old man.' + +'Well, it's this way--' + +At this juncture dear old Gussie broke off short, rose from his seat, +and sprang with indescribable vim at an extraordinarily stout chappie +who had suddenly appeared. There was the deuce of a rush for him, but +Gussie had got away to a good start, and the rest of the singers, +dancers, jugglers, acrobats, and refined sketch teams seemed to +recognize that he had won the trick, for they ebbed back into their +places again, and Gussie and I went into the inner room. + +Mr Riesbitter lit a cigar, and looked at us solemnly over his zareba of +chins. + +'Now, let me tell ya something,' he said to Gussie. 'You lizzun t' me.' + +Gussie registered respectful attention. Mr Riesbitter mused for a +moment and shelled the cuspidor with indirect fire over the edge of the +desk. + +'Lizzun t' me,' he said again. 'I seen you rehearse, as I promised Miss +Denison I would. You ain't bad for an amateur. You gotta lot to learn, +but it's in you. What it comes to is that I can fix you up in the +four-a-day, if you'll take thirty-five per. I can't do better than +that, and I wouldn't have done that if the little lady hadn't of kep' +after me. Take it or leave it. What do you say?' + +'I'll take it,' said Gussie, huskily. 'Thank you.' + +In the passage outside, Gussie gurgled with joy and slapped me on the +back. 'Bertie, old man, it's all right. I'm the happiest man in New +York.' + +'Now what?' + +'Well, you see, as I was telling you when Abe came in, Ray's father +used to be in the profession. He was before our time, but I remember +hearing about him--Joe Danby. He used to be well known in London before +he came over to America. Well, he's a fine old boy, but as obstinate as +a mule, and he didn't like the idea of Ray marrying me because I wasn't +in the profession. Wouldn't hear of it. Well, you remember at Oxford I +could always sing a song pretty well; so Ray got hold of old Riesbitter +and made him promise to come and hear me rehearse and get me bookings +if he liked my work. She stands high with him. She coached me for +weeks, the darling. And now, as you heard him say, he's booked me in +the small time at thirty-five dollars a week.' + +I steadied myself against the wall. The effects of the restoratives +supplied by my pal at the hotel bar were beginning to work off, and I +felt a little weak. Through a sort of mist I seemed to have a vision of +Aunt Agatha hearing that the head of the Mannering-Phippses was about +to appear on the vaudeville stage. Aunt Agatha's worship of the family +name amounts to an obsession. The Mannering-Phippses were an +old-established clan when William the Conqueror was a small boy going +round with bare legs and a catapult. For centuries they have called +kings by their first names and helped dukes with their weekly rent; and +there's practically nothing a Mannering-Phipps can do that doesn't blot +his escutcheon. So what Aunt Agatha would say--beyond saying that it +was all my fault--when she learned the horrid news, it was beyond me to +imagine. + +'Come back to the hotel, Gussie,' I said. 'There's a sportsman there +who mixes things he calls "lightning whizzers". Something tells me I +need one now. And excuse me for one minute, Gussie. I want to send a +cable.' + +It was clear to me by now that Aunt Agatha had picked the wrong man for +this job of disentangling Gussie from the clutches of the American +vaudeville profession. What I needed was reinforcements. For a moment I +thought of cabling Aunt Agatha to come over, but reason told me that +this would be overdoing it. I wanted assistance, but not so badly as +that. I hit what seemed to me the happy mean. I cabled to Gussie's +mother and made it urgent. + +'What were you cabling about?' asked Gussie, later. + +'Oh just to say I had arrived safely, and all that sort of tosh,' I +answered. + + * * * * * + +Gussie opened his vaudeville career on the following Monday at a rummy +sort of place uptown where they had moving pictures some of the time +and, in between, one or two vaudeville acts. It had taken a lot of +careful handling to bring him up to scratch. He seemed to take my +sympathy and assistance for granted, and I couldn't let him down. My +only hope, which grew as I listened to him rehearsing, was that he +would be such a frightful frost at his first appearance that he would +never dare to perform again; and, as that would automatically squash +the marriage, it seemed best to me to let the thing go on. + +He wasn't taking any chances. On the Saturday and Sunday we practically +lived in a beastly little music-room at the offices of the publishers +whose songs he proposed to use. A little chappie with a hooked nose +sucked a cigarette and played the piano all day. Nothing could tire +that lad. He seemed to take a personal interest in the thing. + +Gussie would cleat his throat and begin: + +'There's a great big choo-choo waiting at the deepo.' + +THE CHAPPIE (playing chords): 'Is that so? What's it waiting for?' + +GUSSIE (rather rattled at the interruption): 'Waiting for me.' + +THE CHAPPIE (surprised): For you?' + +GUSSIE (sticking to it): 'Waiting for me-e-ee!' + +THE CHAPPIE (sceptically): 'You don't say!' + +GUSSIE: 'For I'm off to Tennessee.' + +THE CHAPPIE (conceding a point): 'Now, I live at Yonkers.' + +He did this all through the song. At first poor old Gussie asked him to +stop, but the chappie said, No, it was always done. It helped to get +pep into the thing. He appealed to me whether the thing didn't want a +bit of pep, and I said it wanted all the pep it could get. And the +chappie said to Gussie, 'There you are!' So Gussie had to stand it. + +The other song that he intended to sing was one of those moon songs. He +told me in a hushed voice that he was using it because it was one of +the songs that the girl Ray sang when lifting them out of their seats +at Mosenstein's and elsewhere. The fact seemed to give it sacred +associations for him. + +You will scarcely believe me, but the management expected Gussie to +show up and start performing at one o'clock in the afternoon. I told +him they couldn't be serious, as they must know that he would be +rolling out for a bit of lunch at that hour, but Gussie said this was +the usual thing in the four-a-day, and he didn't suppose he would ever +get any lunch again until he landed on the big time. I was just +condoling with him, when I found that he was taking it for granted that +I should be there at one o'clock, too. My idea had been that I should +look in at night, when--if he survived--he would be coming up for the +fourth time; but I've never deserted a pal in distress, so I said +good-bye to the little lunch I'd been planning at a rather decent +tavern I'd discovered on Fifth Avenue, and trailed along. They were +showing pictures when I reached my seat. It was one of those Western +films, where the cowboy jumps on his horse and rides across country at +a hundred and fifty miles an hour to escape the sheriff, not knowing, +poor chump! that he might just as well stay where he is, the sheriff +having a horse of his own which can do three hundred miles an hour +without coughing. I was just going to close my eyes and try to forget +till they put Gussie's name up when I discovered that I was sitting +next to a deucedly pretty girl. + +No, let me be honest. When I went in I had seen that there was a +deucedly pretty girl sitting in that particular seat, so I had taken +the next one. What happened now was that I began, as it were, to drink +her in. I wished they would turn the lights up so that I could see her +better. She was rather small, with great big eyes and a ripping smile. +It was a shame to let all that run to seed, so to speak, in +semi-darkness. + +Suddenly the lights did go up, and the orchestra began to play a tune +which, though I haven't much of an ear for music, seemed somehow +familiar. The next instant out pranced old Gussie from the wings in a +purple frock-coat and a brown top-hat, grinned feebly at the audience, +tripped over his feet, blushed, and began to sing the Tennessee song. + +It was rotten. The poor nut had got stage fright so badly that it +practically eliminated his voice. He sounded like some far-off echo of +the past 'yodelling' through a woollen blanket. + +For the first time since I had heard that he was about to go into +vaudeville I felt a faint hope creeping over me. I was sorry for the +wretched chap, of course, but there was no denying that the thing had +its bright side. No management on earth would go on paying thirty-five +dollars a week for this sort of performance. This was going to be +Gussie's first and only. He would have to leave the profession. The old +boy would say, 'Unhand my daughter'. And, with decent luck, I saw +myself leading Gussie on to the next England-bound liner and handing +him over intact to Aunt Agatha. + +He got through the song somehow and limped off amidst roars of silence +from the audience. There was a brief respite, then out he came again. + +He sang this time as if nobody loved him. As a song, it was not a very +pathetic song, being all about coons spooning in June under the moon, +and so on and so forth, but Gussie handled it in such a sad, crushed +way that there was genuine anguish in every line. By the time he +reached the refrain I was nearly in tears. It seemed such a rotten sort +of world with all that kind of thing going on in it. + +He started the refrain, and then the most frightful thing happened. The +girl next to me got up in her seat, chucked her head back, and began to +sing too. I say 'too', but it wasn't really too, because her first note +stopped Gussie dead, as if he had been pole-axed. + +I never felt so bally conspicuous in my life. I huddled down in my seat +and wished I could turn my collar up. Everybody seemed to be looking at +me. + +In the midst of my agony I caught sight of Gussie. A complete change +had taken place in the old lad. He was looking most frightfully bucked. +I must say the girl was singing most awfully well, and it seemed to act +on Gussie like a tonic. When she came to the end of the refrain, he +took it up, and they sang it together, and the end of it was that he +went off the popular hero. The audience yelled for more, and were only +quieted when they turned down the lights and put on a film. + +When I had recovered I tottered round to see Gussie. I found him +sitting on a box behind the stage, looking like one who had seen +visions. + +'Isn't she a wonder, Bertie?' he said, devoutly. 'I hadn't a notion she +was going to be there. She's playing at the Auditorium this week, and +she can only just have had time to get back to her _matinee_. She +risked being late, just to come and see me through. She's my good +angel, Bertie. She saved me. If she hadn't helped me out I don't know +what would have happened. I was so nervous I didn't know what I was +doing. Now that I've got through the first show I shall be all right.' + +I was glad I had sent that cable to his mother. I was going to need +her. The thing had got beyond me. + + * * * * * + +During the next week I saw a lot of old Gussie, and was introduced to +the girl. I also met her father, a formidable old boy with quick +eyebrows and a sort of determined expression. On the following +Wednesday Aunt Julia arrived. Mrs Mannering-Phipps, my aunt Julia, is, +I think, the most dignified person I know. She lacks Aunt Agatha's +punch, but in a quiet way she has always contrived to make me feel, +from boyhood up, that I was a poor worm. Not that she harries me like +Aunt Agatha. The difference between the two is that Aunt Agatha conveys +the impression that she considers me personally responsible for all the +sin and sorrow in the world, while Aunt Julia's manner seems to suggest +that I am more to be pitied than censured. + +If it wasn't that the thing was a matter of historical fact, I should +be inclined to believe that Aunt Julia had never been on the vaudeville +stage. She is like a stage duchess. + +She always seems to me to be in a perpetual state of being about to +desire the butler to instruct the head footman to serve lunch in the +blue-room overlooking the west terrace. She exudes dignity. Yet, +twenty-five years ago, so I've been told by old boys who were lads +about town in those days, she was knocking them cold at the Tivoli in a +double act called 'Fun in a Tea-Shop', in which she wore tights and +sang a song with a chorus that began, 'Rumpty-tiddley-umpty-ay'. + +There are some things a chappie's mind absolutely refuses to picture, +and Aunt Julia singing 'Rumpty-tiddley-umpty-ay' is one of them. + +She got straight to the point within five minutes of our meeting. + +'What is this about Gussie? Why did you cable for me, Bertie?' + +'It's rather a long story,' I said, 'and complicated. If you don't +mind, I'll let you have it in a series of motion pictures. Suppose we +look in at the Auditorium for a few minutes.' + +The girl, Ray, had been re-engaged for a second week at the Auditorium, +owing to the big success of her first week. Her act consisted of three +songs. She did herself well in the matter of costume and scenery. She +had a ripping voice. She looked most awfully pretty; and altogether the +act was, broadly speaking, a pippin. + +Aunt Julia didn't speak till we were in our seats. Then she gave a sort +of sigh. + +'It's twenty-five years since I was in a music-hall!' + +She didn't say any more, but sat there with her eyes glued on the +stage. + +After about half an hour the johnnies who work the card-index system at +the side of the stage put up the name of Ray Denison, and there was a +good deal of applause. + +'Watch this act, Aunt Julia,' I said. + +She didn't seem to hear me. + +'Twenty-five years! What did you say, Bertie?' + +'Watch this act and tell me what you think of it.' + +'Who is it? Ray. Oh!' + +'Exhibit A,' I said. 'The girl Gussie's engaged to.' + +The girl did her act, and the house rose at her. They didn't want to +let her go. She had to come back again and again. When she had finally +disappeared I turned to Aunt Julia. + +'Well?' I said. + +'I like her work. She's an artist.' + +'We will now, if you don't mind, step a goodish way uptown.' + +And we took the subway to where Gussie, the human film, was earning his +thirty-five per. As luck would have it, we hadn't been in the place ten +minutes when out he came. + +'Exhibit B,' I said. 'Gussie.' + +I don't quite know what I had expected her to do, but I certainly +didn't expect her to sit there without a word. She did not move a +muscle, but just stared at Gussie as he drooled on about the moon. I +was sorry for the woman, for it must have been a shock to her to see +her only son in a mauve frockcoat and a brown top-hat, but I thought it +best to let her get a strangle-hold on the intricacies of the situation +as quickly as possible. If I had tried to explain the affair without +the aid of illustrations I should have talked all day and left her +muddled up as to who was going to marry whom, and why. + +I was astonished at the improvement in dear old Gussie. He had got back +his voice and was putting the stuff over well. It reminded me of the +night at Oxford when, then but a lad of eighteen, he sang 'Let's All Go +Down the Strand' after a bump supper, standing the while up to his +knees in the college fountain. He was putting just the same zip into +the thing now. + +When he had gone off Aunt Julia sat perfectly still for a long time, +and then she turned to me. Her eyes shone queerly. + +'What does this mean, Bertie?' + +She spoke quite quietly, but her voice shook a bit. + +'Gussie went into the business,' I said, 'because the girl's father +wouldn't let him marry her unless he did. If you feel up to it perhaps +you wouldn't mind tottering round to One Hundred and Thirty-third +Street and having a chat with him. He's an old boy with eyebrows, and +he's Exhibit C on my list. When I've put you in touch with him I rather +fancy my share of the business is concluded, and it's up to you.' + +The Danbys lived in one of those big apartments uptown which look as if +they cost the earth and really cost about half as much as a hall-room +down in the forties. We were shown into the sitting-room, and presently +old Danby came in. + +'Good afternoon, Mr Danby,' I began. + +I had got as far as that when there was a kind of gasping cry at my +elbow. + +'Joe!' cried Aunt Julia, and staggered against the sofa. + +For a moment old Danby stared at her, and then his mouth fell open and +his eyebrows shot up like rockets. + +'Julie!' + +And then they had got hold of each other's hands and were shaking them +till I wondered their arms didn't come unscrewed. + +I'm not equal to this sort of thing at such short notice. The +change in Aunt Julia made me feel quite dizzy. She had shed her +_grande-dame_ manner completely, and was blushing and smiling. I +don't like to say such things of any aunt of mine, or I would go +further and put it on record that she was giggling. And old Danby, who +usually looked like a cross between a Roman emperor and Napoleon +Bonaparte in a bad temper, was behaving like a small boy. + +'Joe!' + +'Julie!' + +'Dear old Joe! Fancy meeting you again!' + +'Wherever have you come from, Julie?' + +Well, I didn't know what it was all about, but I felt a bit out of it. +I butted in: + +'Aunt Julia wants to have a talk with you, Mr Danby.' + +'I knew you in a second, Joe!' + +'It's twenty-five years since I saw you, kid, and you don't look a day +older.' + +'Oh, Joe! I'm an old woman!' + +'What are you doing over here? I suppose'--old Danby's cheerfulness +waned a trifle--'I suppose your husband is with you?' + +'My husband died a long, long while ago, Joe.' + +Old Danby shook his head. + +'You never ought to have married out of the profession, Julie. I'm +not saying a word against the late--I can't remember his name; never +could--but you shouldn't have done it, an artist like you. Shall I ever +forget the way you used to knock them with "Rumpty-tiddley-umpty-ay"?' + +'Ah! how wonderful you were in that act, Joe.' Aunt Julia sighed. 'Do +you remember the back-fall you used to do down the steps? I always have +said that you did the best back-fall in the profession.' + +'I couldn't do it now!' + +'Do you remember how we put it across at the Canterbury, Joe? Think of +it! The Canterbury's a moving-picture house now, and the old Mogul runs +French revues.' + +'I'm glad I'm not there to see them.' + +'Joe, tell me, why did you leave England?' + +'Well, I--I wanted a change. No I'll tell you the truth, kid. I wanted +you, Julie. You went off and married that--whatever that stage-door +johnny's name was--and it broke me all up.' + +Aunt Julia was staring at him. She is what they call a well-preserved +woman. It's easy to see that, twenty-five years ago, she must have been +something quite extraordinary to look at. Even now she's almost +beautiful. She has very large brown eyes, a mass of soft grey hair, and +the complexion of a girl of seventeen. + +'Joe, you aren't going to tell me you were fond of me yourself!' + +'Of course I was fond of you. Why did I let you have all the fat in +"Fun in a Tea-Shop"? Why did I hang about upstage while you sang +"Rumpty-tiddley-umpty-ay"? Do you remember my giving you a bag of buns +when we were on the road at Bristol?' + +'Yes, but--' + +'Do you remember my giving you the ham sandwiches at Portsmouth?' + +'Joe!' + +'Do you remember my giving you a seed-cake at Birmingham? What did you +think all that meant, if not that I loved you? Why, I was working up by +degrees to telling you straight out when you suddenly went off and +married that cane-sucking dude. That's why I wouldn't let my daughter +marry this young chap, Wilson, unless he went into the profession. +She's an artist--' + +'She certainly is, Joe.' + +'You've seen her? Where?' + +'At the Auditorium just now. But, Joe, you mustn't stand in the way of +her marrying the man she's in love with. He's an artist, too.' + +'In the small time.' + +'You were in the small time once, Joe. You mustn't look down on him +because he's a beginner. I know you feel that your daughter is marrying +beneath her, but--' + +'How on earth do you know anything about young Wilson? + +'He's my son.' + +'Your son?' + +'Yes, Joe. And I've just been watching him work. Oh, Joe, you can't +think how proud I was of him! He's got it in him. It's fate. He's my +son and he's in the profession! Joe, you don't know what I've been +through for his sake. They made a lady of me. I never worked so hard in +my life as I did to become a real lady. They kept telling me I had got +to put it across, no matter what it cost, so that he wouldn't be +ashamed of me. The study was something terrible. I had to watch myself +every minute for years, and I never knew when I might fluff my lines or +fall down on some bit of business. But I did it, because I didn't want +him to be ashamed of me, though all the time I was just aching to be +back where I belonged.' + +Old Danby made a jump at her, and took her by the shoulders. + +'Come back where you belong, Julie!' he cried. 'Your husband's dead, +your son's a pro. Come back! It's twenty-five years ago, but I haven't +changed. I want you still. I've always wanted you. You've got to come +back, kid, where you belong.' + +Aunt Julia gave a sort of gulp and looked at him. + +'Joe!' she said in a kind of whisper. + +'You're here, kid,' said Old Danby, huskily. 'You've come back.... +Twenty-five years!... You've come back and you're going to stay!' + +She pitched forward into his arms, and he caught her. + +'Oh, Joe! Joe! Joe!' she said. 'Hold me. Don't let me go. Take care of +me.' + +And I edged for the door and slipped from the room. I felt weak. The +old bean will stand a certain amount, but this was too much. I groped +my way out into the street and wailed for a taxi. + +Gussie called on me at the hotel that night. He curveted into the room +as if he had bought it and the rest of the city. + +'Bertie,' he said, 'I feel as if I were dreaming.' + +'I wish I could feel like that, old top,' I said, and I took another +glance at a cable that had arrived half an hour ago from Aunt Agatha. I +had been looking at it at intervals ever since. + +'Ray and I got back to her flat this evening. Who do you think was +there? The mater! She was sitting hand in hand with old Danby.' + +'Yes?' + +'He was sitting hand in hand with her.' + +'Really?' + +'They are going to be married.' + +'Exactly.' + +'Ray and I are going to be married.' + +'I suppose so.' + +'Bertie, old man, I feel immense. I look round me, and everything seems +to be absolutely corking. The change in the mater is marvellous. She is +twenty-five years younger. She and old Danby are talking of reviving +"Fun in a Tea-Shop", and going out on the road with it.' + +I got up. + +'Gussie, old top,' I said, 'leave me for a while. I would be alone. I +think I've got brain fever or something.' + +'Sorry, old man; perhaps New York doesn't agree with you. When do you +expect to go back to England?' + +I looked again at Aunt Agatha's cable. + +'With luck,' I said, 'in about ten years.' + +When he was gone I took up the cable and read it again. + +'What is happening?' it read. 'Shall I come over?' + +I sucked a pencil for a while, and then I wrote the reply. + +It was not an easy cable to word, but I managed it. + +'No,' I wrote, 'stay where you are. Profession overcrowded.' + + + + +WILTON'S HOLIDAY + + +When Jack Wilton first came to Marois Bay, none of us dreamed that he +was a man with a hidden sorrow in his life. There was something about +the man which made the idea absurd, or would have made it absurd if he +himself had not been the authority for the story. He looked so +thoroughly pleased with life and with himself. He was one of those men +whom you instinctively label in your mind as 'strong'. He was so +healthy, so fit, and had such a confident, yet sympathetic, look about +him that you felt directly you saw him that here was the one person you +would have selected as the recipient of that hard-luck story of yours. +You felt that his kindly strength would have been something to lean on. + +As a matter of fact, it was by trying to lean on it that Spencer Clay +got hold of the facts of the case; and when young Clay got hold of +anything, Marois Bay at large had it hot and fresh a few hours later; +for Spencer was one of those slack-jawed youths who are +constitutionally incapable of preserving a secret. + +Within two hours, then, of Clay's chat with Wilton, everyone in the +place knew that, jolly and hearty as the new-comer might seem, there +was that gnawing at his heart which made his outward cheeriness simply +heroic. + +Clay, it seems, who is the worst specimen of self-pitier, had gone to +Wilton, in whom, as a new-comer, he naturally saw a fine fresh +repository for his tales of woe, and had opened with a long yarn of +some misfortune or other. I forget which it was; it might have been any +one of a dozen or so which he had constantly in stock, and it is +immaterial which it was. The point is that, having heard him out very +politely and patiently, Wilton came back at him with a story which +silenced even Clay. Spencer was equal to most things, but even he could +not go on whining about how he had foozled his putting and been snubbed +at the bridge-table, or whatever it was that he was pitying himself +about just then, when a man was telling him the story of a wrecked +life. + +'He told me not to let it go any further,' said Clay to everyone he +met, 'but of course it doesn't matter telling you. It is a thing he +doesn't like to have known. He told me because he said there was +something about me that seemed to extract confidences--a kind of +strength, he said. You wouldn't think it to look at him, but his life +is an absolute blank. Absolutely ruined, don't you know. He told me the +whole thing so simply and frankly that it broke me all up. It seems +that he was engaged to be married a few years ago, and on the wedding +morning--absolutely on the wedding morning--the girl was taken suddenly +ill, and--' + +'And died?' + +'And died. Died in his arms. Absolutely in his arms, old top.' + +'What a terrible thing!' + +'Absolutely. He's never got over it. You won't let it go any further, +will you old man?' + +And off sped Spencer, to tell the tale to someone else. + + * * * * * + +Everyone was terribly sorry for Wilton. He was such a good fellow, such +a sportsman, and, above all, so young, that one hated the thought that, +laugh as he might, beneath his laughter there lay the pain of that +awful memory. He seemed so happy, too. It was only in moments of +confidence, in those heart-to-heart talks when men reveal their deeper +feelings, that he ever gave a hint that all was not well with him. As, +for example, when Ellerton, who is always in love with someone, backed +him into a corner one evening and began to tell him the story of his +latest affair, he had hardly begun when such a look of pain came over +Wilton's face that he ceased instantly. He said afterwards that the +sudden realization of the horrible break he was making hit him like a +bullet, and the manner in which he turned the conversation practically +without pausing from love to a discussion of the best method of getting +out of the bunker at the seventh hole was, in the circumstances, a +triumph of tact. + +Marois Bay is a quiet place even in the summer, and the Wilton tragedy +was naturally the subject of much talk. It is a sobering thing to get a +glimpse of the underlying sadness of life like that, and there was a +disposition at first on the part of the community to behave in his +presence in a manner reminiscent of pall-bearers at a funeral. But +things soon adjusted themselves. He was outwardly so cheerful that it +seemed ridiculous for the rest of us to step softly and speak with +hushed voices. After all, when you came to examine it, the thing was +his affair, and it was for him to dictate the lines on which it should +be treated. If he elected to hide his pain under a bright smile and a +laugh like that of a hyena with a more than usually keen sense of +humour, our line was obviously to follow his lead. + +We did so; and by degrees the fact that his life was permanently +blighted became almost a legend. At the back of our minds we were aware +of it, but it did not obtrude itself into the affairs of every day. It +was only when someone, forgetting, as Ellerton had done, tried to +enlist his sympathy for some misfortune of his own that the look of +pain in his eyes and the sudden tightening of his lips reminded us that +he still remembered. + +Matters had been at this stage for perhaps two weeks when Mary Campbell +arrived. + +Sex attraction is so purely a question of the taste of the individual +that the wise man never argues about it. He accepts its vagaries as +part of the human mystery, and leaves it at that. To me there was no +charm whatever about Mary Campbell. It may have been that, at the +moment, I was in love with Grace Bates, Heloise Miller, and Clarice +Wembley--for at Marois Bay, in the summer, a man who is worth his salt +is more than equal to three love affairs simultaneously--but anyway, +she left me cold. Not one thrill could she awake in me. She was small +and, to my mind, insignificant. Some men said that she had fine eyes. +They seemed to me just ordinary eyes. And her hair was just ordinary +hair. In fact, ordinary was the word that described her. + +But from the first it was plain that she seemed wonderful with Wilton, +which was all the more remarkable, seeing that he was the one man of us +all who could have got any girl in Marois Bay that he wanted. When a +man is six foot high, is a combination of Hercules and Apollo, and +plays tennis, golf, and the banjo with almost superhuman vim, his path +with the girls of a summer seaside resort is pretty smooth. But, when +you add to all these things a tragedy like Wilton's, he can only be +described as having a walk-over. + +Girls love a tragedy. At least, most girls do. It makes a man +interesting to them. Grace Bates was always going on about how +interesting Wilton was. So was Heloise Miller. So was Clarice Wembley. +But it was not until Mary Campbell came that he displayed any real +enthusiasm at all for the feminine element of Marois Bay. We put it +down to the fact that he could not forget, but the real reason, I now +know, was that he considered that girls were a nuisance on the links +and in the tennis-court. I suppose a plus two golfer and a Wildingesque +tennis-player, such as Wilton was, does feel like that. Personally, I +think that girls add to the fun of the thing. But then, my handicap is +twelve, and, though I have been playing tennis for many years, I doubt +if I have got my first serve--the fast one--over the net more than half +a dozen times. + +But Mary Campbell overcame Wilton's prejudices in twenty-four hours. He +seemed to feel lonely on the links without her, and he positively egged +her to be his partner in the doubles. What Mary thought of him we did +not know. She was one of those inscrutable girls. + +And so things went on. If it had not been that I knew Wilton's story, I +should have classed the thing as one of those summer love-affairs to +which the Marois Bay air is so peculiarly conducive. The only reason +why anyone comes away from a summer at Marois Bay unbetrothed is +because there are so many girls that he falls in love with that his +holiday is up before he can, so to speak, concentrate. + +But in Wilton's case this was out of the question. A man does not get +over the sort of blow he had had, not, at any rate, for many years: and +we had gathered that his tragedy was comparatively recent. + +I doubt if I was ever more astonished in my life than the night when he +confided in me. Why he should have chosen me as a confidant I cannot +say. I am inclined to think that I happened to be alone with him at the +psychological moment when a man must confide in somebody or burst; and +Wilton chose the lesser evil. + +I was strolling along the shore after dinner, smoking a cigar and +thinking of Grace Bates, Heloise Miller, and Clarice Wembley, when I +happened upon him. It was a beautiful night, and we sat down and drank +it in for a while. The first intimation I had that all was not well +with him was when he suddenly emitted a hollow groan. + +The next moment he had begun to confide. + +'I'm in the deuce of a hole,' he said. 'What would you do in my +position?' + +'Yes?' I said. + +'I proposed to Mary Campbell this evening.' + +'Congratulations.' + +'Thanks. She refused me.' + +'Refused you!' + +'Yes--because of Amy.' + +It seemed to me that the narrative required footnotes. + +'Who is Amy?' I said. + +'Amy is the girl--' + +'Which girl?' + +'The girl who died, you know. Mary had got hold of the whole story. In +fact, it was the tremendous sympathy she showed that encouraged me to +propose. If it hadn't been for that, I shouldn't have had the nerve. +I'm not fit to black her shoes.' + +Odd, the poor opinion a man always has--when he is in love--of his +personal attractions. There were times when I thought of Grace Bates, +Heloise Miller, and Clarice Wembley, when I felt like one of the beasts +that perish. But then, I'm nothing to write home about, whereas the +smallest gleam of intelligence should have told Wilton that he was a +kind of Ouida guardsman. + +'This evening I managed somehow to do it. She was tremendously nice +about it--said she was very fond of me and all that--but it was quite +out of the question because of Amy.' + +'I don't follow this. What did she mean?' + +'It's perfectly clear, if you bear in mind that Mary is the most +sensitive, spiritual, highly strung girl that ever drew breath,' said +Wilton, a little coldly. 'Her position is this: she feels that, because +of Amy, she can never have my love completely; between us there would +always be Amy's memory. It would be the same as if she married a +widower.' + +'Well, widowers marry.' + +'They don't marry girls like Mary.' + +I couldn't help feeling that this was a bit of luck for the widowers; +but I didn't say so. One has always got to remember that opinions +differ about girls. One man's peach, so to speak, is another man's +poison. I have met men who didn't like Grace Bates, men who, if Heloise +Miller or Clarice Wembley had given them their photographs, would have +used them to cut the pages of a novel. + +'Amy stands between us,' said Wilton. + +I breathed a sympathetic snort. I couldn't think of anything noticeably +suitable to say. + +'Stands between us,' repeated Wilton. 'And the damn silly part of the +whole thing is that there isn't any Amy. I invented her.' + +'You--what!' + +'Invented her. Made her up. No, I'm not mad. I had a reason. Let me +see, you come from London, don't you?' + +'Yes.' + +'Then you haven't any friends. It's different with me. I live in a +small country town, and everyone's my friend. I don't know what it is +about me, but for some reason, ever since I can remember, I've been +looked on as the strong man of my town, the man who's _all right_. +Am I making myself clear?' + +'Not quite.' + +'Well, what I am trying to get at is this. Either because I'm a strong +sort of fellow to look at, and have obviously never been sick in my +life, or because I can't help looking pretty cheerful, the whole of +Bridley-in-the-Wold seems to take it for granted that I can't possibly +have any troubles of my own, and that I am consequently fair game for +anyone who has any sort of worry. I have the sympathetic manner, and +they come to me to be cheered up. If a fellow's in love, he makes a +bee-line for me, and tells me all about it. If anyone has had a +bereavement, I am the rock on which he leans for support. Well, I'm a +patient sort of man, and, as far as Bridley-in-the-Wold is concerned, I +am willing to play the part. But a strong man does need an occasional +holiday, and I made up my mind that I would get it. Directly I got here +I saw that the same old game was going to start. Spencer Clay swooped +down on me at once. I'm as big a draw with the Spencer Clay type of +maudlin idiot as catnip is with a cat. Well, I could stand it at home, +but I was hanged if I was going to have my holiday spoiled. So I +invented Amy. Now do you see?' + +'Certainly I see. And I perceive something else which you appear to +have overlooked. If Amy doesn't exist--or, rather, never did exist--she +cannot stand between you and Miss Campbell. Tell her what you have told +me, and all will be well.' + +He shook his head. + +'You don't know Mary. She would never forgive me. You don't know what +sympathy, what angelic sympathy, she has poured out on me about Amy. I +can't possibly tell her the whole thing was a fraud. It would make her +feel so foolish.' + +'You must risk it. At the worst, you lose nothing.' + +He brightened a little. + +'No, that's true,' he said. 'I've half a mind to do it.' + +'Make it a whole mind,' I said, 'and you win out.' + +I was wrong. Sometimes I am. The trouble was, apparently, that I didn't +know Mary. I am sure Grace Bates, Heloise Miller, or Clarice Wembley +would not have acted as she did. They might have been a trifle stunned +at first, but they would soon have come round, and all would have been +joy. But with Mary, no. What took place at the interview I do not know; +but it was swiftly perceived by Marois Bay that the Wilton-Campbell +alliance was off. They no longer walked together, golfed together, and +played tennis on the same side of the net. They did not even speak to +each other. + + * * * * * + +The rest of the story I can speak of only from hearsay. How it became +public property, I do not know. But there was a confiding strain in +Wilton, and I imagine he confided in someone, who confided in someone +else. At any rate, it is recorded in Marois Bay's unwritten archives, +from which I now extract it. + + * * * * * + +For some days after the breaking-off of diplomatic relations, Wilton +seemed too pulverized to resume the offensive. He mooned about the +links by himself, playing a shocking game, and generally comported +himself like a man who has looked for the escape of gas with a lighted +candle. In affairs of love the strongest men generally behave with the +most spineless lack of resolution. Wilton weighed thirteen stone, and +his muscles were like steel cables; but he could not have shown less +pluck in this crisis in his life if he had been a poached egg. It was +pitiful to see him. + +Mary, in these days, simply couldn't see that he was on the earth. She +looked round him, above him, and through him, but never at him; which +was rotten from Wilton's point of view, for he had developed a sort of +wistful expression--I am convinced that he practised it before the +mirror after his bath--which should have worked wonders, if only he +could have got action with it. But she avoided his eye as if he had +been a creditor whom she was trying to slide past on the street. + +She irritated me. To let the breach widen in this way was absurd. +Wilton, when I said as much to him, said that it was due to her +wonderful sensitiveness and highly strungness, and that it was just one +more proof to him of the loftiness of her soul and her shrinking horror +of any form of deceit. In fact, he gave me the impression that, though +the affair was rending his vitals, he took a mournful pleasure in +contemplating her perfection. + +Now one afternoon Wilton took his misery for a long walk along the +seashore. He tramped over the sand for some considerable time, and +finally pulled up in a little cove, backed by high cliffs and dotted +with rocks. The shore around Marois Bay is full of them. + +By this time the afternoon sun had begun to be too warm for comfort, +and it struck Wilton that he could be a great deal more comfortable +nursing his wounded heart with his back against one of the rocks than +tramping any farther over the sand. Most of the Marois Bay scenery is +simply made as a setting for the nursing of a wounded heart. The cliffs +are a sombre indigo, sinister and forbidding; and even on the finest +days the sea has a curious sullen look. You have only to get away from +the crowd near the bathing-machines and reach one of these small coves +and get your book against a rock and your pipe well alight, and you can +simply wallow in misery. I have done it myself. The day when Heloise +Miller went golfing with Teddy Bingley I spent the whole afternoon in +one of these retreats. It is true that, after twenty minutes of +contemplating the breakers, I fell asleep; but that is bound to happen. + +It happened to Wilton. For perhaps half an hour he brooded, and then +his pipe fell from his mouth and he dropped off into a peaceful +slumber. And time went by. + +It was a touch of cramp that finally woke him. He jumped up with a +yell, and stood there massaging his calf. And he had hardly got rid of +the pain, when a startled exclamation broke the primeval stillness; and +there, on the other side of the rock, was Mary Campbell. + +Now, if Wilton had had any inductive reasoning in his composition at +all, he would have been tremendously elated. A girl does not creep out +to a distant cove at Marois Bay unless she is unhappy; and if Mary +Campbell was unhappy she must be unhappy about him; and if she was +unhappy about him all he had to do was to show a bit of determination +and get the whole thing straightened out. But Wilton, whom grief had +reduced to the mental level of an oyster, did not reason this out; and +the sight of her deprived him of practically all his faculties, +including speech. He just stood there and yammered. + +'Did you follow me here, Mr Wilton?' said Mary, very coldly. + +He shook his head. Eventually he managed to say that he had come there +by chance, and had fallen asleep under the rock. As this was exactly +what Mary had done, she could not reasonably complain. So that +concluded the conversation for the time being. She walked away in the +direction of Marois Bay without another word, and presently he lost +sight of her round a bend in the cliffs. + +His position now was exceedingly unpleasant. If she had such a distaste +for his presence, common decency made it imperative that he should give +her a good start on the homeward journey. He could not tramp along a +couple of yards in the rear all the way. So he had to remain where he +was till she had got well off the mark. And as he was wearing a thin +flannel suit, and the sun had gone in, and a chilly breeze had sprung +up, his mental troubles were practically swamped in physical +discomfort. + +Just as he had decided that he could now make a move, he was surprised +to see her coming back. + +Wilton really was elated at this. The construction he put on it was +that she had relented and was coming back to fling her arms round his +neck. He was just bracing himself for the clash, when he caught her +eye, and it was as cold and unfriendly as the sea. + +'I must go round the other way,' she said. 'The water has come up too +far on that side.' + +And she walked past him to the other end of the cove. + +The prospect of another wait chilled Wilton to the marrow. The wind had +now grown simply freezing, and it came through his thin suit and roamed +about all over him in a manner that caused him exquisite discomfort. He +began to jump to keep himself warm. + +He was leaping heavenwards for the hundredth time, when, chancing to +glance to one side, he perceived Mary again returning. By this time his +physical misery had so completely overcome the softer emotions in his +bosom that his only feeling now was one of thorough irritation. It was +not fair, he felt, that she should jockey at the start in this way and +keep him hanging about here catching cold. He looked at her, when she +came within range, quite balefully. + +'It is impossible,' she said, 'to get round that way either.' + +One grows so accustomed in this world to everything going smoothly, +that the idea of actual danger had not yet come home to her. From where +she stood in the middle of the cove, the sea looked so distant that the +fact that it had closed the only ways of getting out was at the moment +merely annoying. She felt much the same as she would have felt if she +had arrived at a station to catch a train and had been told that the +train was not running. + +She therefore seated herself on a rock, and contemplated the ocean. +Wilton walked up and down. Neither showed any disposition to exercise +that gift of speech which places Man in a class of his own, above the +ox, the ass, the common wart-hog, and the rest of the lower animals. It +was only when a wave swished over the base of her rock that Mary broke +the silence. + +'The tide is coming _in_' she faltered. + +She looked at the sea with such altered feelings that it seemed a +different sea altogether. + +There was plenty of it to look at. It filled the entire mouth of the +little bay, swirling up the sand and lashing among the rocks in a +fashion which made one thought stand out above all the others in her +mind--the recollection that she could not swim. + +'Mr Wilton!' + +Wilton bowed coldly. + +'Mr Wilton, the tide. It's coming IN.' + +Wilton glanced superciliously at the sea. + +'So,' he said, 'I perceive.' + +'But what shall we do?' + +Wilton shrugged his shoulders. He was feeling at war with Nature and +Humanity combined. The wind had shifted a few points to the east, and +was exploring his anatomy with the skill of a qualified surgeon. + +'We shall drown,' cried Miss Campbell. 'We shall drown. We shall drown. +We shall drown.' + +All Wilton's resentment left him. Until he heard that pitiful wail his +only thoughts had been for himself. + +'Mary!' he said, with a wealth of tenderness in his voice. + +She came to him as a little child comes to its mother, and he put his +arm around her. + +'Oh, Jack!' + +'My darling!' + +'I'm frightened!' + +'My precious!' + +It is in moments of peril, when the chill breath of fear blows upon our +souls, clearing them of pettiness, that we find ourselves. + +She looked about her wildly. + +'Could we climb the cliffs?' + +'I doubt it.' + +'If we called for help--' + +'We could do that.' + +They raised their voices, but the only answer was the crashing of the +waves and the cry of the sea-birds. The water was swirling at their +feet, and they drew back to the shelter of the cliffs. There they stood +in silence, watching. + +'Mary,' said Wilton in a low voice, 'tell me one thing.' + +'Yes, Jack?' + +'Have you forgiven me?' + +'Forgiven you! How can you ask at a moment like this? I love you with +all my heart and soul.' + +He kissed her, and a strange look of peace came over his face. + +'I am happy.' + +'I, too.' + +A fleck of foam touched her face, and she shivered. + +'It was worth it,' he said quietly. 'If all misunderstandings are +cleared away and nothing can come between us again, it is a small price +to pay--unpleasant as it will be when it comes.' + +'Perhaps--perhaps it will not be very unpleasant. They say that +drowning is an easy death.' + +'I didn't mean drowning, dearest. I meant a cold in the head.' + +'A cold in the head!' + +He nodded gravely. + +'I don't see how it can be avoided. You know how chilly it gets these +late summer nights. It will be a long time before we can get away.' + +She laughed a shrill, unnatural laugh. + +'You are talking like this to keep my courage up. You know in your +heart that there is no hope for us. Nothing can save us now. The water +will come creeping--creeping--' + +'Let it creep! It can't get past that rock there.' + +'What do you mean?' + +'It can't. The tide doesn't come up any farther. I know, because I was +caught here last week.' + +For a moment she looked at him without speaking. Then she uttered a cry +in which relief, surprise, and indignation were so nicely blended that +it would have been impossible to say which predominated. + +He was eyeing the approaching waters with an indulgent smile. + +'Why didn't you tell me?' she cried. + +'I did tell you.' + +'You know what I mean. Why did you let me go on thinking we were in +danger, when--' + +'We _were_ in danger. We shall probably get pneumonia.' + +'Isch!' + +'There! You're sneezing already.' + +'I am not sneezing. That was an exclamation of disgust.' + +'It sounded like a sneeze. It must have been, for you've every reason +to sneeze, but why you should utter exclamations of disgust I cannot +imagine.' + +'I'm disgusted with you--with your meanness. You deliberately tricked +me into saying--' + +'Saying--' + +She was silent. + +'What you said was that you loved me with all your heart and soul. You +can't get away from that, and it's good enough for me.' + +'Well, it's not true any longer.' + +'Yes, it is,' said Wilton, comfortably; 'bless it.' + +'It is not. I'm going right away now, and I shall never speak to you +again.' + +She moved away from him, and prepared to sit down. + +'There's a jelly-fish just where you're going to sit,' said Wilton. + +'I don't care.' + +'It will. I speak from experience, as one on whom you have sat so +often.' + +'I'm not amused.' + +'Have patience. I can be funnier than that.' + +'Please don't talk to me.' + +'Very well.' + +She seated herself with her back to him. Dignity demanded reprisals, so +he seated himself with his back to her; and the futile ocean raged +towards them, and the wind grew chillier every minute. + +Time passed. Darkness fell. The little bay became a black cavern, +dotted here and there with white, where the breeze whipped the surface +of the water. + +Wilton sighed. It was lonely sitting there all by himself. How much +jollier it would have been if-- + +A hand touched his shoulder, and a voice spoke--meekly. + +'Jack, dear, it--it's awfully cold. Don't you think if we were +to--snuggle up--' + +He reached out and folded her in an embrace which would have aroused +the professional enthusiasm of Hackenschmidt and drawn guttural +congratulations from Zbysco. She creaked, but did not crack, beneath +the strain. + +'That's much nicer,' she said, softly. 'Jack, I don't think the tide's +started even to think of going down yet.' + +'I hope not,' said Wilton. + + + + +THE MIXER + + +I. _He Meets a Shy Gentleman_ + +Looking back, I always consider that my career as a dog proper really +started when I was bought for the sum of half a crown by the Shy Man. +That event marked the end of my puppyhood. The knowledge that I was +worth actual cash to somebody filled me with a sense of new +responsibilities. It sobered me. Besides, it was only after that +half-crown changed hands that I went out into the great world; and, +however interesting life may be in an East End public-house, it is only +when you go out into the world that you really broaden your mind and +begin to see things. + +Within its limitations, my life had been singularly full and vivid. I +was born, as I say, in a public-house in the East End, and, however +lacking a public-house may be in refinement and the true culture, it +certainly provides plenty of excitement. Before I was six weeks old I +had upset three policemen by getting between their legs when they came +round to the side-door, thinking they had heard suspicious noises; and +I can still recall the interesting sensation of being chased seventeen +times round the yard with a broom-handle after a well-planned and +completely successful raid on the larder. These and other happenings of +a like nature soothed for the moment but could not cure the +restlessness which has always been so marked a trait in my character. I +have always been restless, unable to settle down in one place and +anxious to get on to the next thing. This may be due to a gipsy strain +in my ancestry--one of my uncles travelled with a circus--or it may be +the Artistic Temperament, acquired from a grandfather who, before dying +of a surfeit of paste in the property-room of the Bristol Coliseum, +which he was visiting in the course of a professional tour, had an +established reputation on the music-hall stage as one of Professor +Pond's Performing Poodles. + +I owe the fullness and variety of my life to this restlessness of mine, +for I have repeatedly left comfortable homes in order to follow some +perfect stranger who looked as if he were on his way to somewhere +interesting. Sometimes I think I must have cat blood in me. + +The Shy Man came into our yard one afternoon in April, while I was +sleeping with mother in the sun on an old sweater which we had borrowed +from Fred, one of the barmen. I heard mother growl, but I didn't take +any notice. Mother is what they call a good watch-dog, and she growls +at everybody except master. At first, when she used to do it, I would +get up and bark my head off, but not now. Life's too short to bark at +everybody who comes into our yard. It is behind the public-house, and +they keep empty bottles and things there, so people are always coming +and going. + +Besides, I was tired. I had had a very busy morning, helping the men +bring in a lot of cases of beer, and running into the saloon to talk to +Fred and generally looking after things. So I was just dozing off +again, when I heard a voice say, 'Well, he's ugly enough!' Then I knew +that they were talking about me. + +I have never disguised it from myself, and nobody has ever disguised it +from me, that I am not a handsome dog. Even mother never thought me +beautiful. She was no Gladys Cooper herself, but she never hesitated to +criticize my appearance. In fact, I have yet to meet anyone who did. +The first thing strangers say about me is, 'What an ugly dog!' + +I don't know what I am. I have a bulldog kind of a face, but the rest +of me is terrier. I have a long tail which sticks straight up in the +air. My hair is wiry. My eyes are brown. I am jet black, with a white +chest. I once overheard Fred saying that I was a Gorgonzola +cheese-hound, and I have generally found Fred reliable in his +statements. + +When I found that I was under discussion, I opened my eyes. Master was +standing there, looking down at me, and by his side the man who had +just said I was ugly enough. The man was a thin man, about the age of a +barman and smaller than a policeman. He had patched brown shoes and +black trousers. + +'But he's got a sweet nature,' said master. + +This was true, luckily for me. Mother always said, 'A dog without +influence or private means, if he is to make his way in the world, must +have either good looks or amiability.' But, according to her, I overdid +it. 'A dog,' she used to say, 'can have a good heart, without chumming +with every Tom, Dick, and Harry he meets. Your behaviour is sometimes +quite un-doglike.' Mother prided herself on being a one-man dog. She +kept herself to herself, and wouldn't kiss anybody except master--not +even Fred. + +Now, I'm a mixer. I can't help it. It's my nature. I like men. I like +the taste of their boots, the smell of their legs, and the sound of +their voices. It may be weak of me, but a man has only to speak to me +and a sort of thrill goes right down my spine and sets my tail wagging. + +I wagged it now. The man looked at me rather distantly. He didn't pat +me. I suspected--what I afterwards found to be the case--that he was +shy, so I jumped up at him to put him at his ease. Mother growled +again. I felt that she did not approve. + +'Why, he's took quite a fancy to you already,' said master. + +The man didn't say a word. He seemed to be brooding on something. He +was one of those silent men. He reminded me of Joe, the old dog down +the street at the grocer's shop, who lies at the door all day, blinking +and not speaking to anybody. + +Master began to talk about me. It surprised me, the way he praised me. +I hadn't a suspicion he admired me so much. From what he said you would +have thought I had won prizes and ribbons at the Crystal Palace. But +the man didn't seem to be impressed. He kept on saying nothing. + +When master had finished telling him what a wonderful dog I was till I +blushed, the man spoke. + +'Less of it,' he said. 'Half a crown is my bid, and if he was an angel +from on high you couldn't get another ha'penny out of me. What about +it?' + +A thrill went down my spine and out at my tail, for of course I saw now +what was happening. The man wanted to buy me and take me away. I looked +at master hopefully. + +'He's more like a son to me than a dog,' said master, sort of wistful. + +'It's his face that makes you feel that way,' said the man, +unsympathetically. 'If you had a son that's just how he would look. +Half a crown is my offer, and I'm in a hurry.' + +'All right,' said master, with a sigh, 'though it's giving him away, a +valuable dog like that. Where's your half-crown?' + +The man got a bit of rope and tied it round my neck. + +I could hear mother barking advice and telling me to be a credit to the +family, but I was too excited to listen. + +'Good-bye, mother,' I said. 'Good-bye, master. Good-bye, Fred. Good-bye +everybody. I'm off to see life. The Shy Man has bought me for half a +crown. Wow!' + +I kept running round in circles and shouting, till the man gave me a +kick and told me to stop it. + +So I did. + +I don't know where we went, but it was a long way. I had never been off +our street before in my life and I didn't know the whole world was half +as big as that. We walked on and on, and the man jerked at my rope +whenever I wanted to stop and look at anything. He wouldn't even let me +pass the time of the day with dogs we met. + +When we had gone about a hundred miles and were just going to turn in +at a dark doorway, a policeman suddenly stopped the man. I could feel +by the way the man pulled at my rope and tried to hurry on that he +didn't want to speak to the policeman. The more I saw of the man the +more I saw how shy he was. + +'Hi!' said the policeman, and we had to stop. + +'I've got a message for you, old pal,' said the policeman. 'It's from +the Board of Health. They told me to tell you you needed a change of +air. See?' + +'All right!' said the man. + +'And take it as soon as you like. Else you'll find you'll get it given +you. See?' + +I looked at the man with a good deal of respect. He was evidently +someone very important, if they worried so about his health. + +'I'm going down to the country tonight,' said the man. + +The policeman seemed pleased. + +'That's a bit of luck for the country,' he said. 'Don't go changing +your mind.' + +And we walked on, and went in at the dark doorway, and climbed about a +million stairs and went into a room that smelt of rats. The man sat +down and swore a little, and I sat and looked at him. + +Presently I couldn't keep it in any longer. + +'Do we live here?' I said. 'Is it true we're going to the country? +Wasn't that policeman a good sort? Don't you like policemen? I knew +lots of policemen at the public-house. Are there any other dogs here? +What is there for dinner? What's in that cupboard? When are you going +to take me out for another run? May I go out and see if I can find a +cat?' + +'Stop that yelping,' he said. + +'When we go to the country, where shall we live? Are you going to be a +caretaker at a house? Fred's father is a caretaker at a big house in +Kent. I've heard Fred talk about it. You didn't meet Fred when you came +to the public-house, did you? You would like Fred. I like Fred. Mother +likes Fred. We all like Fred.' + +I was going on to tell him a lot more about Fred, who had always been +one of my warmest friends, when he suddenly got hold of a stick and +walloped me with it. + +'You keep quiet when you're told,' he said. + +He really was the shyest man I had ever met. It seemed to hurt him to +be spoken to. However, he was the boss, and I had to humour him, so I +didn't say any more. + +We went down to the country that night, just as the man had told the +policeman we would. I was all worked up, for I had heard so much about +the country from Fred that I had always wanted to go there. Fred used +to go off on a motor-bicycle sometimes to spend the night with his +father in Kent, and once he brought back a squirrel with him, which I +thought was for me to eat, but mother said no. 'The first thing a dog +has to learn,' mother used often to say, 'is that the whole world +wasn't created for him to eat.' + +It was quite dark when we got to the country, but the man seemed to +know where to go. He pulled at my rope, and we began to walk along a +road with no people in it at all. We walked on and on, but it was all +so new to me that I forgot how tired I was. I could feel my mind +broadening with every step I took. + +Every now and then we would pass a very big house, which looked as if +it was empty, but I knew that there was a caretaker inside, because of +Fred's father. These big houses belong to very rich people, but they +don't want to live in them till the summer, so they put in caretakers, +and the caretakers have a dog to keep off burglars. I wondered if that +was what I had been brought here for. + +'Are you going to be a caretaker?' I asked the man. + +'Shut up,' he said. + +So I shut up. + +After we had been walking a long time, we came to a cottage. A man came +out. My man seemed to know him, for he called him Bill. I was quite +surprised to see the man was not at all shy with Bill. They seemed very +friendly. + +'Is that him?' said Bill, looking at me. + +'Bought him this afternoon,' said the man. + +'Well,' said Bill, 'he's ugly enough. He looks fierce. If you want a +dog, he's the sort of dog you want. But what do you want one for? It +seems to me it's a lot of trouble to take, when there's no need of any +trouble at all. Why not do what I've always wanted to do? What's wrong +with just fixing the dog, same as it's always done, and walking in and +helping yourself?' + +'I'll tell you what's wrong,' said the man. 'To start with, you can't +get at the dog to fix him except by day, when they let him out. At +night he's shut up inside the house. And suppose you do fix him during +the day what happens then? Either the bloke gets another before night, +or else he sits up all night with a gun. It isn't like as if these +blokes was ordinary blokes. They're down here to look after the house. +That's their job, and they don't take any chances.' + +It was the longest speech I had ever heard the man make, and it seemed +to impress Bill. He was quite humble. + +'I didn't think of that,' he said. 'We'd best start in to train this +tyke at once.' + +Mother often used to say, when I went on about wanting to go out into +the world and see life, 'You'll be sorry when you do. The world isn't +all bones and liver.' And I hadn't been living with the man and Bill in +their cottage long before I found out how right she was. + +It was the man's shyness that made all the trouble. It seemed as if he +hated to be taken notice of. + +It started on my very first night at the cottage. I had fallen asleep +in the kitchen, tired out after all the excitement of the day and the +long walks I had had, when something woke me with a start. It was +somebody scratching at the window, trying to get in. + +Well, I ask you, I ask any dog, what would you have done in my place? +Ever since I was old enough to listen, mother had told me over and over +again what I must do in a case like this. It is the A B C of a dog's +education. 'If you are in a room and you hear anyone trying to get in,' +mother used to say, 'bark. It may be someone who has business there, or +it may not. Bark first, and inquire afterwards. Dogs were made to be +heard and not seen.' + +I lifted my head and yelled. I have a good, deep voice, due to a hound +strain in my pedigree, and at the public-house, when there was a full +moon, I have often had people leaning out of the windows and saying +things all down the street. I took a deep breath and let it go. + +'Man!' I shouted. 'Bill! Man! Come quick! Here's a burglar getting in!' + +Then somebody struck a light, and it was the man himself. He had come +in through the window. + +He picked up a stick, and he walloped me. I couldn't understand it. I +couldn't see where I had done the wrong thing. But he was the boss, so +there was nothing to be said. + +If you'll believe me, that same thing happened every night. Every +single night! And sometimes twice or three times before morning. And +every time I would bark my loudest and the man would strike a light and +wallop me. The thing was baffling. I couldn't possibly have mistaken +what mother had said to me. She said it too often for that. Bark! Bark! +Bark! It was the main plank of her whole system of education. And yet, +here I was, getting walloped every night for doing it. + +I thought it out till my head ached, and finally I got it right. I +began to see that mother's outlook was narrow. No doubt, living with a +man like master at the public-house, a man without a trace of shyness +in his composition, barking was all right. But circumstances alter +cases. I belonged to a man who was a mass of nerves, who got the jumps +if you spoke to him. What I had to do was to forget the training I had +had from mother, sound as it no doubt was as a general thing, and to +adapt myself to the needs of the particular man who had happened to buy +me. I had tried mother's way, and all it had brought me was walloping, +so now I would think for myself. + +So next night, when I heard the window go, I lay there without a word, +though it went against all my better feelings. I didn't even growl. +Someone came in and moved about in the dark, with a lantern, but, +though I smelt that it was the man, I didn't ask him a single question. +And presently the man lit a light and came over to me and gave me a +pat, which was a thing he had never done before. + +'Good dog!' he said. 'Now you can have this.' + +And he let me lick out the saucepan in which the dinner had been +cooked. + +After that, we got on fine. Whenever I heard anyone at the window I +just kept curled up and took no notice, and every time I got a bone or +something good. It was easy, once you had got the hang of things. + +It was about a week after that the man took me out one morning, and we +walked a long way till we turned in at some big gates and went along a +very smooth road till we came to a great house, standing all by itself +in the middle of a whole lot of country. There was a big lawn in front +of it, and all round there were fields and trees, and at the back a +great wood. + +The man rang a bell, and the door opened, and an old man came out. + +'Well?' he said, not very cordially. + +'I thought you might want to buy a good watch-dog,' said the man. + +'Well, that's queer, your saying that,' said the caretaker. 'It's a +coincidence. That's exactly what I do want to buy. I was just thinking +of going along and trying to get one. My old dog picked up something +this morning that he oughtn't to have, and he's dead, poor feller.' + +'Poor feller,' said the man. 'Found an old bone with phosphorus on it, +I guess.' + +'What do you want for this one?' + +'Five shillings.' + +'Is he a good watch-dog?' + +'He's a grand watch-dog.' + +'He looks fierce enough.' + +'Ah!' + +So the caretaker gave the man his five shillings, and the man went off +and left me. + +At first the newness of everything and the unaccustomed smells and +getting to know the caretaker, who was a nice old man, prevented my +missing the man, but as the day went on and I began to realize that he +had gone and would never come back, I got very depressed. I pattered +all over the house, whining. It was a most interesting house, bigger +than I thought a house could possibly be, but it couldn't cheer me up. +You may think it strange that I should pine for the man, after all the +wallopings he had given me, and it is odd, when you come to think of +it. But dogs are dogs, and they are built like that. By the time it was +evening I was thoroughly miserable. I found a shoe and an old +clothes-brush in one of the rooms, but could eat nothing. I just sat +and moped. + +It's a funny thing, but it seems as if it always happened that just +when you are feeling most miserable, something nice happens. As I sat +there, there came from outside the sound of a motor-bicycle, and +somebody shouted. + +It was dear old Fred, my old pal Fred, the best old boy that ever +stepped. I recognized his voice in a second, and I was scratching at +the door before the old man had time to get up out of his chair. + +Well, well, well! That was a pleasant surprise! I ran five times round +the lawn without stopping, and then I came back and jumped up at him. + +'What are you doing down here, Fred?' I said. 'Is this caretaker your +father? Have you seen the rabbits in the wood? How long are you going +to stop? How's mother? I like the country. Have you come all the way +from the public-house? I'm living here now. Your father gave five +shillings for me. That's twice as much as I was worth when I saw you +last.' + +'Why, it's young Nigger!' That was what they called me at the saloon. +'What are you doing here? Where did you get this dog, father?' + +'A man sold him to me this morning. Poor old Bob got poisoned. This one +ought to be just as good a watch-dog. He barks loud enough.' + +'He should be. His mother is the best watch-dog in London. This +cheese-hound used to belong to the boss. Funny him getting down here.' + +We went into the house and had supper. And after supper we sat and +talked. Fred was only down for the night, he said, because the boss +wanted him back next day. + +'And I'd sooner have my job, than yours, dad,' he said. 'Of all the +lonely places! I wonder you aren't scared of burglars.' + +'I've my shot-gun, and there's the dog. I might be scared if it wasn't +for him, but he kind of gives me confidence. Old Bob was the same. Dogs +are a comfort in the country.' + +'Get many tramps here?' + +'I've only seen one in two months, and that's the feller who sold me +the dog here.' + +As they were talking about the man, I asked Fred if he knew him. They +might have met at the public-house, when the man was buying me from the +boss. + +'You would like him,' I said. 'I wish you could have met.' + +They both looked at me. + +'What's he growling at?' asked Fred. 'Think he heard something?' + +The old man laughed. + +'He wasn't growling. He was talking in his sleep. You're nervous, Fred. +It comes of living in the city.' + +'Well, I am. I like this place in the daytime, but it gives me the pip +at night. It's so quiet. How you can stand it here all the time, I +can't understand. Two nights of it would have me seeing things.' + +His father laughed. + +'If you feel like that, Fred, you had better take the gun to bed with +you. I shall be quite happy without it.' + +'I will,' said Fred. 'I'll take six if you've got them.' + +And after that they went upstairs. I had a basket in the hall, which +had belonged to Bob, the dog who had got poisoned. It was a comfortable +basket, but I was so excited at having met Fred again that I couldn't +sleep. Besides, there was a smell of mice somewhere, and I had to move +around, trying to place it. + +I was just sniffing at a place in the wall, when I heard a scratching +noise. At first I thought it was the mice working in a different place, +but, when I listened, I found that the sound came from the window. +Somebody was doing something to it from outside. + +If it had been mother, she would have lifted the roof off right there, +and so should I, if it hadn't been for what the man had taught me. I +didn't think it possible that this could be the man come back, for he +had gone away and said nothing about ever seeing me again. But I didn't +bark. I stopped where I was and listened. And presently the window came +open, and somebody began to climb in. + +I gave a good sniff, and I knew it was the man. + +I was so delighted that for a moment I nearly forgot myself and shouted +with joy, but I remembered in time how shy he was, and stopped myself. +But I ran to him and jumped up quite quietly, and he told me to lie +down. I was disappointed that he didn't seem more pleased to see me. I +lay down. + +It was very dark, but he had brought a lantern with him, and I could +see him moving about the room, picking things up and putting them in a +bag which he had brought with him. Every now and then he would stop and +listen, and then he would start moving round again. He was very quick +about it, but very quiet. It was plain that he didn't want Fred or his +father to come down and find him. + +I kept thinking about this peculiarity of his while I watched him. I +suppose, being chummy myself, I find it hard to understand that +everybody else in the world isn't chummy too. Of course, my experience +at the public-house had taught me that men are just as different from +each other as dogs. If I chewed master's shoe, for instance, he used to +kick me; but if I chewed Fred's, Fred would tickle me under the ear. +And, similarly, some men are shy and some men are mixers. I quite +appreciated that, but I couldn't help feeling that the man carried +shyness to a point where it became morbid. And he didn't give himself a +chance to cure himself of it. That was the point. Imagine a man hating +to meet people so much that he never visited their houses till the +middle of the night, when they were in bed and asleep. It was silly. +Shyness has always been something so outside my nature that I suppose I +have never really been able to look at it sympathetically. I have +always held the view that you can get over it if you make an effort. +The trouble with the man was that he wouldn't make an effort. He went +out of his way to avoid meeting people. + +I was fond of the man. He was the sort of person you never get to know +very well, but we had been together for quite a while, and I wouldn't +have been a dog if I hadn't got attached to him. + +As I sat and watched him creep about the room, it suddenly came to me +that here was a chance of doing him a real good turn in spite of +himself. Fred was upstairs, and Fred, as I knew by experience, was the +easiest man to get along with in the world. Nobody could be shy with +Fred. I felt that if only I could bring him and the man together, they +would get along splendidly, and it would teach the man not to be silly +and avoid people. It would help to give him the confidence which he +needed. I had seen him with Bill, and I knew that he could be perfectly +natural and easy when he liked. + +It was true that the man might object at first, but after a while he +would see that I had acted simply for his good, and would be grateful. + +The difficulty was, how to get Fred down without scaring the man. I +knew that if I shouted he wouldn't wait, but would be out of the window +and away before Fred could get there. What I had to do was to go to +Fred's room, explain the whole situation quietly to him, and ask him to +come down and make himself pleasant. + +The man was far too busy to pay any attention to me. He was kneeling in +a corner with his back to me, putting something in his bag. I seized +the opportunity to steal softly from the room. + +Fred's door was shut, and I could hear him snoring. I scratched gently, +and then harder, till I heard the snores stop. He got out of bed and +opened the door. + +'Don't make a noise,' I whispered. 'Come on downstairs. I want you to +meet a friend of mine.' + +At first he was quite peevish. + +'What's the idea,' he said, 'coming and spoiling a man's beauty-sleep? +Get out.' + +He actually started to go back into the room. + +'No, honestly, Fred,' I said, 'I'm not fooling you. There is a man +downstairs. He got in through the window. I want you to meet him. He's +very shy, and I think it will do him good to have a chat with you.' + +'What are you whining about?' Fred began, and then he broke off +suddenly and listened. We could both hear the man's footsteps as he +moved about. + +Fred jumped back into the room. He came out, carrying something. He +didn't say any more but started to go downstairs, very quiet, and I +went after him. + +There was the man, still putting things in his bag. I was just going to +introduce Fred, when Fred, the silly ass, gave a great yell. + +I could have bitten him. + +'What did you want to do that for, you chump?' I said 'I told you he +was shy. Now you've scared him.' + +He certainly had. The man was out of the window quicker than you would +have believed possible. He just flew out. I called after him that it +was only Fred and me, but at that moment a gun went off with a +tremendous bang, so he couldn't have heard me. + +I was pretty sick about it. The whole thing had gone wrong. Fred seemed +to have lost his head entirely. He was behaving like a perfect ass. +Naturally the man had been frightened with him carrying on in that way. +I jumped out of the window to see if I could find the man and explain, +but he was gone. Fred jumped out after me, and nearly squashed me. + +It was pitch dark out there. I couldn't see a thing. But I knew the man +could not have gone far, or I should have heard him. I started to sniff +round on the chance of picking up his trail. It wasn't long before I +struck it. + +Fred's father had come down now, and they were running about. The old +man had a light. I followed the trail, and it ended at a large +cedar-tree, not far from the house. I stood underneath it and looked +up, but of course I could not see anything. + +'Are you up there?' I shouted. 'There's nothing to be scared at. It was +only Fred. He's an old pal of mine. He works at the place where you +bought me. His gun went off by accident. He won't hurt you.' + +There wasn't a sound. I began to think I must have made a mistake. + +'He's got away,' I heard Fred say to his father, and just as he said it +I caught a faint sound of someone moving in the branches above me. + +'No he hasn't!' I shouted. 'He's up this tree.' + +'I believe the dog's found him, dad!' + +'Yes, he's up here. Come along and meet him.' + +Fred came to the foot of the tree. + +'You up there,' he said, 'come along down.' + +Not a sound from the tree. + +'It's all right,' I explained, 'he _is_ up there, but he's very shy. Ask +him again.' + +'All right,' said Fred. 'Stay there if you want to. But I'm going to +shoot off this gun into the branches just for fun.' + +And then the man started to come down. As soon as he touched the ground +I jumped up at him. + +'This is fine!' I said 'Here's my friend Fred. You'll like him.' + +But it wasn't any good. They didn't get along together at all. They +hardly spoke. The man went into the house, and Fred went after him, +carrying his gun. And when they got into the house it was just the +same. The man sat in one chair, and Fred sat in another, and after a +long time some men came in a motor-car, and the man went away with +them. He didn't say good-bye to me. + +When he had gone, Fred and his father made a great fuss of me. I +couldn't understand it. Men are so odd. The man wasn't a bit pleased +that I had brought him and Fred together, but Fred seemed as if he +couldn't do enough for me for having introduced him to the man. +However, Fred's father produced some cold ham--my favourite dish--and +gave me quite a lot of it, so I stopped worrying over the thing. As +mother used to say, 'Don't bother your head about what doesn't concern +you. The only thing a dog need concern himself with is the +bill-of-fare. Eat your bun, and don't make yourself busy about other +people's affairs.' Mother's was in some ways a narrow outlook, but she +had a great fund of sterling common sense. + + + +II. _He Moves in Society_ + +It was one of those things which are really nobody's fault. It was not +the chauffeur's fault, and it was not mine. I was having a friendly +turn-up with a pal of mine on the side-walk; he ran across the road; I +ran after him; and the car came round the corner and hit me. It must +have been going pretty slow, or I should have been killed. As it was, I +just had the breath knocked out of me. You know how you feel when the +butcher catches you just as you are edging out of the shop with a bit +of meat. It was like that. + +I wasn't taking much interest in things for awhile, but when I did I +found that I was the centre of a group of three--the chauffeur, a small +boy, and the small boy's nurse. + +The small boy was very well-dressed, and looked delicate. He was +crying. + +'Poor doggie,' he said, 'poor doggie.' + +'It wasn't my fault, Master Peter,' said the chauffeur respectfully. +'He run out into the road before I seen him.' + +'That's right,' I put in, for I didn't want to get the man into +trouble. + +'Oh, he's not dead,' said the small boy. 'He barked.' + +'He growled,' said the nurse. 'Come away, Master Peter. He might bite +you.' + +Women are trying sometimes. It is almost as if they deliberately +misunderstood. + +'I won't come away. I'm going to take him home with me and send for the +doctor to come and see him. He's going to be my dog.' + +This sounded all right. Goodness knows I am no snob, and can rough it +when required, but I do like comfort when it comes my way, and it +seemed to me that this was where I got it. And I liked the boy. He was +the right sort. + +The nurse, a very unpleasant woman, had to make objections. + +'Master Peter! You can't take him home, a great, rough, fierce, common +dog! What would your mother say?' + +'I'm going to take him home,' repeated the child, with a determination +which I heartily admired, 'and he's going to be my dog. I shall call +him Fido.' + +There's always a catch in these good things. Fido is a name I +particularly detest. All dogs do. There was a dog called that that I +knew once, and he used to get awfully sick when we shouted it out after +him in the street. No doubt there have been respectable dogs called +Fido, but to my mind it is a name like Aubrey or Clarence. You may be +able to live it down, but you start handicapped. However, one must take +the rough with the smooth, and I was prepared to yield the point. + +'If you wait, Master Peter, your father will buy you a beautiful, +lovely dog....' + +'I don't want a beautiful, lovely dog. I want this dog.' + +The slur did not wound me. I have no illusions about my looks. Mine is +an honest, but not a beautiful, face. + +'It's no use talking,' said the chauffeur, grinning. 'He means to have +him. Shove him in, and let's be getting back, or they'll be thinking +His Nibs has been kidnapped.' + +So I was carried to the car. I could have walked, but I had an idea +that I had better not. I had made my hit as a crippled dog, and a +crippled dog I intended to remain till things got more settled down. + +The chauffeur started the car off again. What with the shock I had had +and the luxury of riding in a motor-car, I was a little distrait, and I +could not say how far we went. But it must have been miles and miles, +for it seemed a long time afterwards that we stopped at the biggest +house I have ever seen. There were smooth lawns and flower-beds, and +men in overalls, and fountains and trees, and, away to the right, +kennels with about a million dogs in them, all pushing their noses +through the bars and shouting. They all wanted to know who I was and +what prizes I had won, and then I realized that I was moving in high +society. + +I let the small boy pick me up and carry me into the house, though it +was all he could do, poor kid, for I was some weight. He staggered up +the steps and along a great hall, and then let me flop on the carpet of +the most beautiful room you ever saw. The carpet was a yard thick. + +There was a woman sitting in a chair, and as soon as she saw me she +gave a shriek. + +'I told Master Peter you would not be pleased, m'lady,' said the nurse, +who seemed to have taken a positive dislike to me, 'but he would bring +the nasty brute home.' + +'He's not a nasty brute, mother. He's my dog, and his name's Fido. John +ran over him in the car, and I brought him home to live with us. I love +him.' + +This seemed to make an impression. Peter's mother looked as if she were +weakening. + +'But, Peter, dear, I don't know what your father will say. He's so +particular about dogs. All his dogs are prize-winners, pedigree dogs. +This is such a mongrel.' + +'A nasty, rough, ugly, common dog, m'lady,' said the nurse, sticking +her oar in in an absolutely uncalled-for way. + +Just then a man came into the room. + +'What on earth?' he said, catching sight of me. + +'It's a dog Peter has brought home. He says he wants to keep him.' + +'I'm going to keep him,' corrected Peter firmly. + +I do like a child that knows his own mind. I was getting fonder of +Peter every minute. I reached up and licked his hand. + +'See! He knows he's my dog, don't you, Fido? He licked me.' + +'But, Peter, he looks so fierce.' This, unfortunately, is true. I do +look fierce. It is rather a misfortune for a perfectly peaceful dog. +'I'm sure it's not safe your having him.' + +'He's my dog, and his name's Fido. I am going to tell cook to give him +a bone.' + +His mother looked at his father, who gave rather a nasty laugh. + +'My dear Helen,' he said, 'ever since Peter was born, ten years ago, he +has not asked for a single thing, to the best of my recollection, which +he has not got. Let us be consistent. I don't approve of this +caricature of a dog, but if Peter wants him, I suppose he must have +him.' + +'Very well. But the first sign of viciousness he shows, he shall be +shot. He makes me nervous.' + +So they left it at that, and I went off with Peter to get my bone. + +After lunch, he took me to the kennels to introduce me to the other +dogs. I had to go, but I knew it would not be pleasant, and it wasn't. +Any dog will tell you what these prize-ribbon dogs are like. Their +heads are so swelled they have to go into their kennels backwards. + +It was just as I had expected. There were mastiffs, terriers, poodles, +spaniels, bulldogs, sheepdogs, and every other kind of dog you can +imagine, all prize-winners at a hundred shows, and every single dog in +the place just shoved his head back and laughed himself sick. I never +felt so small in my life, and I was glad when it was over and Peter +took me off to the stables. + +I was just feeling that I never wanted to see another dog in my life, +when a terrier ran out, shouting. As soon as he saw me, he came up +inquiringly, walking very stiff-legged, as terriers do when they see a +stranger. + +'Well,' I said, 'and what particular sort of a prize-winner are you? +Tell me all about the ribbons they gave you at the Crystal Palace, and +let's get it over.' + +He laughed in a way that did me good. + +'Guess again!' he said. 'Did you take me for one of the nuts in the +kennels? My name's Jack, and I belong to one of the grooms.' + +'What!' I cried. 'You aren't Champion Bowlegs Royal or anything of that +sort! I'm glad to meet you.' + +So we rubbed noses as friendly as you please. It was a treat meeting +one of one's own sort. I had had enough of those high-toned dogs who +look at you as if you were something the garbage-man had forgotten to +take away. + +'So you've been talking to the swells, have you?' said Jack. + +'He would take me,' I said, pointing to Peter. + +'Oh, you're his latest, are you? Then you're all right--while it +lasts.' + +'How do you mean, while it lasts?' + +'Well, I'll tell you what happened to me. Young Peter took a great +fancy to me once. Couldn't do enough for me for a while. Then he got +tired of me, and out I went. You see, the trouble is that while he's a +perfectly good kid, he has always had everything he wanted since he was +born, and he gets tired of things pretty easy. It was a toy railway +that finished me. Directly he got that, I might not have been on the +earth. It was lucky for me that Dick, my present old man, happened to +want a dog to keep down the rats, or goodness knows what might not have +happened to me. They aren't keen on dogs here unless they've pulled +down enough blue ribbons to sink a ship, and mongrels like you and +me--no offence--don't last long. I expect you noticed that the +grown-ups didn't exactly cheer when you arrived?' + +'They weren't chummy.' + +'Well take it from me, your only chance is to make them chummy. If you +do something to please them, they might let you stay on, even though +Peter was tired of you.' + +'What sort of thing?' + +'That's for you to think out. I couldn't find one. I might tell you to +save Peter from drowning. You don't need a pedigree to do that. But you +can't drag the kid to the lake and push him in. That's the trouble. A +dog gets so few opportunities. But, take it from me, if you don't do +something within two weeks to make yourself solid with the adults, you +can make your will. In two weeks Peter will have forgotten all about +you. It's not his fault. It's the way he has been brought up. His +father has all the money on earth, and Peter's the only child. You +can't blame him. All I say is, look out for yourself. Well, I'm glad to +have met you. Drop in again when you can. I can give you some good +ratting, and I have a bone or two put away. So long.' + + * * * * * + +It worried me badly what Jack had said. I couldn't get it out of my +mind. If it hadn't been for that, I should have had a great time, for +Peter certainly made a lot of fuss of me. He treated me as if I were +the only friend he had. + +And, in a way, I was. When you are the only son of a man who has all +the money in the world, it seems that you aren't allowed to be like an +ordinary kid. They coop you up, as if you were something precious that +would be contaminated by contact with other children. In all the time +that I was at the house I never met another child. Peter had everything +in the world, except someone of his own age to go round with; and that +made him different from any of the kids I had known. + +He liked talking to me. I was the only person round who really +understood him. He would talk by the hour and I would listen with my +tongue hanging out and nod now and then. + +It was worth listening to, what he used to tell me. He told me the most +surprising things. I didn't know, for instance, that there were any Red +Indians in England but he said there was a chief named Big Cloud who +lived in the rhododendron bushes by the lake. I never found him, though +I went carefully through them one day. He also said that there were +pirates on the island in the lake. I never saw them either. + +What he liked telling me about best was the city of gold and precious +stones which you came to if you walked far enough through the woods at +the back of the stables. He was always meaning to go off there some +day, and, from the way he described it, I didn't blame him. It was +certainly a pretty good city. It was just right for dogs, too, he said, +having bones and liver and sweet cakes there and everything else a dog +could want. It used to make my mouth water to listen to him. + +We were never apart. I was with him all day, and I slept on the mat in +his room at night. But all the time I couldn't get out of my mind what +Jack had said. I nearly did once, for it seemed to me that I was so +necessary to Peter that nothing could separate us; but just as I was +feeling safe his father gave him a toy aeroplane, which flew when you +wound it up. The day he got it, I might not have been on the earth. I +trailed along, but he hadn't a word to say to me. + +Well, something went wrong with the aeroplane the second day, and it +wouldn't fly, and then I was in solid again; but I had done some hard +thinking and I knew just where I stood. I was the newest toy, that's +what I was, and something newer might come along at any moment, and +then it would be the finish for me. The only thing for me was to do +something to impress the adults, just as Jack had said. + +Goodness knows I tried. But everything I did turned out wrong. There +seemed to be a fate about it. One morning, for example, I was trotting +round the house early, and I met a fellow I could have sworn was a +burglar. He wasn't one of the family, and he wasn't one of the +servants, and he was hanging round the house in a most suspicious way. +I chased him up a tree, and it wasn't till the family came down to +breakfast, two hours later, that I found that he was a guest who had +arrived overnight, and had come out early to enjoy the freshness of the +morning and the sun shining on the lake, he being that sort of man. +That didn't help me much. + +Next, I got in wrong with the boss, Peter's father. I don't know why. I +met him out in the park with another man, both carrying bundles of +sticks and looking very serious and earnest. Just as I reached him, the +boss lifted one of the sticks and hit a small white ball with it. He +had never seemed to want to play with me before, and I took it as a +great compliment. I raced after the ball, which he had hit quite a long +way, picked it up in my mouth, and brought it back to him. I laid it at +his feet, and smiled up at him. + +'Hit it again,' I said. + +He wasn't pleased at all. He said all sorts of things and tried to kick +me, and that night, when he thought I was not listening, I heard him +telling his wife that I was a pest and would have to be got rid of. +That made me think. + +And then I put the lid on it. With the best intentions in the world I +got myself into such a mess that I thought the end had come. + +It happened one afternoon in the drawing-room. There were visitors that +day--women; and women seem fatal to me. I was in the background, trying +not to be seen, for, though I had been brought in by Peter, the family +never liked my coming into the drawing-room. I was hoping for a piece +of cake and not paying much attention to the conversation, which was +all about somebody called Toto, whom I had not met. Peter's mother said +Toto was a sweet little darling, he was; and one of the visitors said +Toto had not been at all himself that day and she was quite worried. +And a good lot more about how all that Toto would ever take for dinner +was a little white meat of chicken, chopped up fine. It was not very +interesting, and I had allowed my attention to wander. + +And just then, peeping round the corner of my chair to see if there +were any signs of cake, what should I see but a great beastly brute of +a rat. It was standing right beside the visitor, drinking milk out of a +saucer, if you please! + +I may have my faults, but procrastination in the presence of rats is +not one of them. I didn't hesitate for a second. Here was my chance. If +there is one thing women hate, it is a rat. Mother always used to say, +'If you want to succeed in life, please the women. They are the real +bosses. The men don't count.' By eliminating this rodent I should earn +the gratitude and esteem of Peter's mother, and, if I did that, it did +not matter what Peter's father thought of me. + +I sprang. + +The rat hadn't a chance to get away. I was right on to him. I got hold +of his neck, gave him a couple of shakes, and chucked him across the +room. Then I ran across to finish him off. + +Just as I reached him, he sat up and barked at me. I was never so taken +aback in my life. I pulled up short and stared at him. + +'I'm sure I beg your pardon, sir,' I said apologetically. 'I thought +you were a rat.' + +And then everything broke loose. Somebody got me by the collar, +somebody else hit me on the head with a parasol, and somebody else +kicked me in the ribs. Everybody talked and shouted at the same time. + +'Poor darling Toto!' cried the visitor, snatching up the little animal. +'Did the great savage brute try to murder you!' + +'So absolutely unprovoked!' + +'He just flew at the poor little thing!' + +It was no good my trying to explain. Any dog in my place would have +made the same mistake. The creature was a toy-dog of one of those +extraordinary breeds--a prize-winner and champion, and so on, of +course, and worth his weight in gold. I would have done better to bite +the visitor than Toto. That much I gathered from the general run of the +conversation, and then, having discovered that the door was shut, I +edged under the sofa. I was embarrassed. + +'That settles it!' said Peter's mother. 'The dog is not safe. He must +be shot.' + +Peter gave a yell at this, but for once he didn't swing the voting an +inch. + +'Be quiet, Peter,' said his mother. 'It is not safe for you to have +such a dog. He may be mad.' + +Women are very unreasonable. + +Toto, of course, wouldn't say a word to explain how the mistake arose. +He was sitting on the visitor's lap, shrieking about what he would have +done to me if they hadn't separated us. + +Somebody felt cautiously under the sofa. I recognized the shoes of +Weeks, the butler. I suppose they had rung for him to come and take me, +and I could see that he wasn't half liking it. I was sorry for Weeks, +who was a friend of mine, so I licked his hand, and that seemed to +cheer him up a whole lot. + +'I have him now, madam,' I heard him say. + +'Take him to the stables and tie him up, Weeks, and tell one of the men +to bring his gun and shoot him. He is not safe.' + +A few minutes later I was in an empty stall, tied up to the manger. + +It was all over. It had been pleasant while it lasted, but I had +reached the end of my tether now. I don't think I was frightened, but a +sense of pathos stole over me. I had meant so well. It seemed as if +good intentions went for nothing in this world. I had tried so hard to +please everybody, and this was the result--tied up in a dark stable, +waiting for the end. + +The shadows lengthened in the stable-yard, and still nobody came. I +began to wonder if they had forgotten me, and presently, in spite of +myself, a faint hope began to spring up inside me that this might mean +that I was not to be shot after all. Perhaps Toto at the eleventh hour +had explained everything. + +And then footsteps sounded outside, and the hope died away. I shut my +eyes. + +Somebody put his arms round my neck, and my nose touched a warm cheek. +I opened my eyes. It was not the man with the gun come to shoot me. It +was Peter. He was breathing very hard, and he had been crying. + +'Quiet!' he whispered. + +He began to untie the rope. + +'You must keep quite quiet, or they will hear us, and then we shall be +stopped. I'm going to take you into the woods, and we'll walk and walk +until we come to the city I told you about that's all gold and +diamonds, and we'll live there for the rest of our lives, and no one +will be able to hurt us. But you must keep very quiet.' + +He went to the stable-gate and looked out. Then he gave a little +whistle to me to come after him. And we started out to find the city. + +The woods were a long way away, down a hill of long grass and across a +stream; and we went very carefully, keeping in the shadows and running +across the open spaces. And every now and then we would stop and look +back, but there was nobody to be seen. The sun was setting, and +everything was very cool and quiet. + +Presently we came to the stream and crossed it by a little wooden +bridge, and then we were in the woods, where nobody could see us. + +I had never been in the woods before, and everything was very new and +exciting to me. There were squirrels and rabbits and birds, more than I +had ever seen in my life, and little things that buzzed and flew and +tickled my ears. I wanted to rush about and look at everything, but +Peter called to me, and I came to heel. He knew where we were going, +and I didn't, so I let him lead. + +We went very slowly. The wood got thicker and thicker the farther we +got into it. There were bushes that were difficult to push through, and +long branches, covered with thorns, that reached out at you and tore at +you when you tried to get away. And soon it was quite dark, so dark +that I could see nothing, not even Peter, though he was so close. We +went slower and slower, and the darkness was full of queer noises. From +time to time Peter would stop, and I would run to him and put my nose +in his hand. At first he patted me, but after a while he did not pat me +any more, but just gave me his hand to lick, as if it was too much for +him to lift it. I think he was getting very tired. He was quite a small +boy and not strong, and we had walked a long way. + +It seemed to be getting darker and darker. I could hear the sound of +Peter's footsteps, and they seemed to drag as he forced his way through +the bushes. And then, quite suddenly, he sat down without any warning, +and when I ran up I heard him crying. + +I suppose there are lots of dogs who would have known exactly the right +thing to do, but I could not think of anything except to put my nose +against his cheek and whine. He put his arm round my neck, and for a +long time we stayed like that, saying nothing. It seemed to comfort +him, for after a time he stopped crying. + +I did not bother him by asking about the wonderful city where we were +going, for he was so tired. But I could not help wondering if we were +near it. There was not a sign of any city, nothing but darkness and odd +noises and the wind singing in the trees. Curious little animals, such +as I had never smelt before, came creeping out of the bushes to look at +us. I would have chased them, but Peter's arm was round my neck and I +could not leave him. But when something that smelt like a rabbit came +so near that I could have reached out a paw and touched it, I turned my +head and snapped; and then they all scurried back into the bushes and +there were no more noises. + +There was a long silence. Then Peter gave a great gulp. + +'I'm not frightened,' he said. 'I'm not!' + +I shoved my head closer against his chest. There was another silence +for a long time. + +'I'm going to pretend we have been captured by brigands,' said Peter at +last. 'Are you listening? There were three of them, great big men with +beards, and they crept up behind me and snatched me up and took me out +here to their lair. This is their lair. One was called Dick, the +others' names were Ted and Alfred. They took hold of me and brought me +all the way through the wood till we got here, and then they went off, +meaning to come back soon. And while they were away, you missed me and +tracked me through the woods till you found me here. And then the +brigands came back, and they didn't know you were here, and you kept +quite quiet till Dick was quite near, and then you jumped out and bit +him and he ran away. And then you bit Ted and you bit Alfred, and they +ran away too. And so we were left all alone, and I was quite safe +because you were here to look after me. And then--And then--' + +His voice died away, and the arm that was round my neck went limp, and +I could hear by his breathing that he was asleep. His head was resting +on my back, but I didn't move. I wriggled a little closer to make him +as comfortable as I could, and then I went to sleep myself. + +I didn't sleep very well. I had funny dreams all the time, thinking +these little animals were creeping up close enough out of the bushes +for me to get a snap at them without disturbing Peter. + +If I woke once, I woke a dozen times, but there was never anything +there. The wind sang in the trees and the bushes rustled, and far away +in the distance the frogs were calling. + +And then I woke once more with the feeling that this time something +really was coming through the bushes. I lifted my head as far as I +could, and listened. For a little while nothing happened, and then, +straight in front of me, I saw lights. And there was a sound of +trampling in the undergrowth. + +It was no time to think about not waking Peter. This was something +definite, something that had to be attended to quick. I was up with a +jump, yelling. Peter rolled off my back and woke up, and he sat there +listening, while I stood with my front paws on him and shouted at the +men. I was bristling all over. I didn't know who they were or what they +wanted, but the way I looked at it was that anything could happen in +those woods at that time of night, and, if anybody was coming along to +start something, he had got to reckon with me. + +Somebody called, 'Peter! Are you there, Peter?' + +There was a crashing in the bushes, the lights came nearer and nearer, +and then somebody said 'Here he is!' and there was a lot of shouting. I +stood where I was, ready to spring if necessary, for I was taking no +chances. + +'Who are you?' I shouted. 'What do you want?' A light flashed in my +eyes. + +'Why, it's that dog!' + +Somebody came into the light, and I saw it was the boss. He was looking +very anxious and scared, and he scooped Peter up off the ground and +hugged him tight. + +Peter was only half awake. He looked up at the boss drowsily, and began +to talk about brigands, and Dick and Ted and Alfred, the same as he had +said to me. There wasn't a sound till he had finished. Then the boss +spoke. + +'Kidnappers! I thought as much. And the dog drove them away!' + +For the first time in our acquaintance he actually patted me. + +'Good old man!' he said. + +'He's my dog,' said Peter sleepily, 'and he isn't to be shot.' + +'He certainly isn't, my boy,' said the boss. 'From now on he's the +honoured guest. He shall wear a gold collar and order what he wants for +dinner. And now let's be getting home. It's time you were in bed.' + + * * * * * + +Mother used to say, 'If you're a good dog, you will be happy. If you're +not, you won't,' but it seems to me that in this world it is all a +matter of luck. When I did everything I could to please people, they +wanted to shoot me; and when I did nothing except run away, they +brought me back and treated me better than the most valuable +prize-winner in the kennels. It was puzzling at first, but one day I +heard the boss talking to a friend who had come down from the city. + +The friend looked at me and said, 'What an ugly mongrel! Why on earth +do you have him about? I thought you were so particular about your +dogs?' + +And the boss replied, 'He may be a mongrel, but he can have anything he +wants in this house. Didn't you hear how he saved Peter from being +kidnapped?' + +And out it all came about the brigands. + +'The kid called them brigands,' said the boss. 'I suppose that's how it +would strike a child of that age. But he kept mentioning the name Dick, +and that put the police on the scent. It seems there's a kidnapper well +known to the police all over the country as Dick the Snatcher. It was +almost certainly that scoundrel and his gang. How they spirited the +child away, goodness knows, but they managed it, and the dog tracked +them and scared them off. We found him and Peter together in the woods. +It was a narrow escape, and we have to thank this animal here for it.' + +What could I say? It was no more use trying to put them right than it +had been when I mistook Toto for a rat. Peter had gone to sleep that +night pretending about the brigands to pass the time, and when he awoke +he still believed in them. He was that sort of child. There was nothing +that I could do about it. + +Round the corner, as the boss was speaking, I saw the kennel-man coming +with a plate in his hand. It smelt fine, and he was headed straight for +me. + +He put the plate down before me. It was liver, which I love. + +'Yes,' went on the boss, 'if it hadn't been for him, Peter would have +been kidnapped and scared half to death, and I should be poorer, I +suppose, by whatever the scoundrels had chosen to hold me up for.' + +I am an honest dog, and hate to obtain credit under false pretences, +but--liver is liver. I let it go at that. + + + + +CROWNED HEADS + + +Katie had never been more surprised in her life than when the serious +young man with the brown eyes and the Charles Dana Gibson profile +spirited her away from his friend and Genevieve. Till that moment she +had looked on herself as playing a sort of 'villager and retainer' part +to the brown-eyed young man's hero and Genevieve's heroine. She knew +she was not pretty, though somebody (unidentified) had once said that +she had nice eyes; whereas Genevieve was notoriously a beauty, +incessantly pestered, so report had it, by musical comedy managers to +go on the stage. + +Genevieve was tall and blonde, a destroyer of masculine peace of mind. +She said 'harf' and 'rahther', and might easily have been taken for an +English duchess instead of a cloak-model at Macey's. You would have +said, in short, that, in the matter of personable young men, Genevieve +would have swept the board. Yet, here was this one deliberately +selecting her, Katie, for his companion. It was almost a miracle. + +He had managed it with the utmost dexterity at the merry-go-round. With +winning politeness he had assisted Genevieve on her wooden steed, and +then, as the machinery began to work, had grasped Katie's arm and led +her at a rapid walk out into the sunlight. Katie's last glimpse of +Genevieve had been the sight of her amazed and offended face as it +whizzed round the corner, while the steam melodeon drowned protests +with a spirited plunge into 'Alexander's Ragtime Band'. + +Katie felt shy. This young man was a perfect stranger. It was true she +had had a formal introduction to him, but only from Genevieve, who had +scraped acquaintance with him exactly two minutes previously. It had +happened on the ferry-boat on the way to Palisades Park. Genevieve's +bright eye, roving among the throng on the lower deck, had singled out +this young man and his companion as suitable cavaliers for the +expedition. The young man pleased her, and his friend, with the broken +nose and the face like a good-natured bulldog, was obviously suitable +for Katie. + +Etiquette is not rigid on New York ferry-boats. Without fuss or delay +she proceeded to make their acquaintance--to Katie's concern, for she +could never get used to Genevieve's short way with strangers. The quiet +life she had led had made her almost prudish, and there were times when +Genevieve's conduct shocked her. Of course, she knew there was no harm +in Genevieve. As the latter herself had once put it, 'The feller that +tries to get gay with me is going to get a call-down that'll make him +holler for his winter overcoat.' But all the same she could not +approve. And the net result of her disapproval was to make her shy and +silent as she walked by this young man's side. + +The young man seemed to divine her thoughts. + +'Say, I'm on the level,' he observed. 'You want to get that. Right on +the square. See?' + +'Oh, yes,' said Katie, relieved but yet embarrassed. It was awkward to +have one's thoughts read like this. + +'You ain't like your friend. Don't think I don't see that.' + +'Genevieve's a sweet girl,' said Katie, loyally. + +'A darned sight too sweet. Somebody ought to tell her mother.' + +'Why did you speak to her if you did not like her?' + +'Wanted to get to know you,' said the young man simply. + +They walked on in silence. Katie's heart was beating with a rapidity +that forbade speech. Nothing like this very direct young man had ever +happened to her before. She had grown so accustomed to regarding +herself as something too insignificant and unattractive for the notice +of the lordly male that she was overwhelmed. She had a vague feeling +that there was a mistake somewhere. It surely could not be she who was +proving so alluring to this fairy prince. The novelty of the situation +frightened her. + +'Come here often?' asked her companion. + +'I've never been here before.' + +'Often go to Coney?' + +'I've never been.' + +He regarded her with astonishment. + +'You've never been to Coney Island! Why, you don't know what this sort +of thing is till you've taken in Coney. This place isn't on the map +with Coney. Do you mean to say you've never seen Luna Park, or +Dreamland, or Steeplechase, or the diving ducks? Haven't you had a look +at the Mardi Gras stunts? Why, Coney during Mardi Gras is the greatest +thing on earth. It's a knockout. Just about a million boys and girls +having the best time that ever was. Say, I guess you don't go out much, +do you?' + +'Not much.' + +'If it's not a rude question, what do you do? I been trying to place you +all along. Now I reckon your friend works in a store, don't she?' + +'Yes. She's a cloak-model. She has a lovely figure, hasn't she?' + +'Didn't notice it. I guess so, if she's what you say. It's what they +pay her for, ain't it? Do you work in a store, too?' + +'Not exactly. I keep a little shop.' + +'All by yourself?' + +'I do all the work now. It was my father's shop, but he's dead. It +began by being my grandfather's. He started it. But he's so old now +that, of course, he can't work any longer, so I look after things.' + +'Say, you're a wonder! What sort of a shop?' + +'It's only a little second-hand bookshop. There really isn't much to +do.' + +'Where is it?' + +'Sixth Avenue. Near Washington Square.' + +'What name?' + +'Bennett.' + +'That's your name, then?' + +'Yes.' + +'Anything besides Bennett?' + +'My name's Kate.' + +The young man nodded. + +'I'd make a pretty good district attorney,' he said, disarming possible +resentment at this cross-examination. 'I guess you're wondering if I'm +ever going to stop asking you questions. Well, what would you like to +do?' + +'Don't you think we ought to go back and find your friend and +Genevieve? They will be wondering where we are.' + +'Let 'em,' said the young man briefly. 'I've had all I want of Jenny.' + +'I can't understand why you don't like her.' + +'I like you. Shall we have some ice-cream, or would you rather go on +the Scenic Railway?' + +Katie decided on the more peaceful pleasure. They resumed their walk, +socially licking two cones. Out of the corner of her eyes Katie cast +swift glances at her friend's face. He was a very grave young man. +There was something important as well as handsome about him. Once, as +they made their way through the crowds, she saw a couple of boys look +almost reverently at him. She wondered who he could be, but was too shy +to inquire. She had got over her nervousness to a great extent, but +there were still limits to what she felt herself equal to saying. It +did not strike her that it was only fair that she should ask a few +questions in return for those which he had put. She had always +repressed herself, and she did so now. She was content to be with him +without finding out his name and history. + +He supplied the former just before he finally consented to let her go. + +They were standing looking over the river. The sun had spent its force, +and it was cool and pleasant in the breeze which was coming up the +Hudson. Katie was conscious of a vague feeling that was almost +melancholy. It had been a lovely afternoon, and she was sorry that it +was over. + +The young man shuffled his feet on the loose stones. + +'I'm mighty glad I met you,' he said. 'Say, I'm coming to see you. On +Sixth Avenue. Don't mind, do you?' + +He did not wait for a reply. + +'Brady's my name. Ted Brady, Glencoe Athletic Club,' he paused. 'I'm on +the level,' he added, and paused again. 'I like you a whole lot. There's +your friend, Genevieve. Better go after her, hadn't you? Good-bye.' And +he was gone, walking swiftly through the crowd about the bandstand. + +Katie went back to Genevieve, and Genevieve was simply horrid. Cold and +haughty, a beautiful iceberg of dudgeon, she refused to speak a single +word during the whole long journey back to Sixth Avenue. And Katie, +whose tender heart would at other times have been tortured by this +hostility, leant back in her seat, and was happy. Her mind was far away +from Genevieve's frozen gloom, living over again the wonderful +happenings of the afternoon. + +Yes, it had been a wonderful afternoon, but trouble was waiting for her +in Sixth Avenue. Trouble was never absent for very long from Katie's +unselfish life. Arriving at the little bookshop, she found Mr Murdoch, +the glazier, preparing for departure. Mr Murdoch came in on Mondays, +Wednesdays, and Fridays to play draughts with her grandfather, who was +paralysed from the waist, and unable to leave the house except when +Katie took him for his outing in Washington Square each morning in his +bath-chair. + +Mr Murdoch welcomed Katie with joy. + +'I was wondering whenever you would come back, Katie. I'm afraid the +old man's a little upset.' + +'Not ill?' + +'Not ill. Upset. And it was my fault, too. Thinking he'd be interested, +I read him a piece from the paper where I seen about these English +Suffragettes, and he just went up in the air. I guess he'll be all +right now you've come back. I was a fool to read it, I reckon. I kind +of forgot for the moment.' + +'Please don't worry yourself about it, Mr Murdoch. He'll be all right +soon. I'll go to him.' + +In the inner room the old man was sitting. His face was flushed, and he +gesticulated from time to time. + +'I won't have it,' he cried as Katie entered. 'I tell you I won't have +it. If Parliament can't do anything, I'll send Parliament about its +business.' + +'Here I am, grandpapa,' said Katie quickly. 'I've had the greatest +time. It was lovely up there. I--' + +'I tell you it's got to stop. I've spoken about it before. I won't have +it.' + +'I expect they're doing their best. It's your being so far away that +makes it hard for them. But I do think you might write them a very +sharp letter.' + +'I will. I will. Get out the paper. Are you ready?' He stopped, and +looked piteously at Katie. 'I don't know what to say. I don't know how +to begin.' + +Katie scribbled a few lines. + +'How would this do? "His Majesty informs his Government that he is +greatly surprised and indignant that no notice has been taken of his +previous communications. If this goes on, he will be reluctantly +compelled to put the matter in other hands."' + +She read it glibly as she had written it. The formula had been a +favourite one of her late father, when roused to fall upon offending +patrons of the bookshop. + +The old man beamed. His resentment was gone. He was soothed and happy. + +'That'll wake 'em up,' he said. 'I won't have these goings on while I'm +king, and if they don't like it, they know what to do. You're a good +girl, Katie.' + +He chuckled. + +'I beat Lord Murdoch five games to nothing,' he said. + +It was now nearly two years since the morning when old Matthew Bennett +had announced to an audience consisting of Katie and a smoky blue cat, +which had wandered in from Washington Square to take pot-luck, that he +was the King of England. + +This was a long time for any one delusion of the old man's to last. +Usually they came and went with a rapidity which made it hard for +Katie, for all her tact, to keep abreast of them. She was not likely to +forget the time when he went to bed President Roosevelt and woke up the +Prophet Elijah. It was the only occasion in all the years they had +passed together when she had felt like giving way and indulging in the +fit of hysterics which most girls of her age would have had as a matter +of course. + +She had handled that crisis, and she handled the present one with equal +smoothness. When her grandfather made his announcement, which he did +rather as one stating a generally recognized fact than as if the +information were in any way sensational, she neither screamed nor +swooned, nor did she rush to the neighbours for advice. She merely gave +the old man his breakfast, not forgetting to set aside a suitable +portion for the smoky cat, and then went round to notify Mr Murdoch of +what had happened. + +Mr Murdoch, excellent man, received the news without any fuss or +excitement at all, and promised to look in on Schwartz, the stout +saloon-keeper, who was Mr Bennett's companion and antagonist at +draughts on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, and, as he expressed +it, put him wise. + +Life ran comfortably in the new groove. Old Mr Bennett continued to +play draughts and pore over his second-hand classics. Every morning he +took his outing in Washington Square where, from his invalid's chair, +he surveyed somnolent Italians and roller-skating children with his old +air of kindly approval. Katie, whom circumstances had taught to be +thankful for small mercies, was perfectly happy in the shadow of the +throne. She liked her work; she liked looking after her grandfather; +and now that Ted Brady had come into her life, she really began to look +on herself as an exceptionally lucky girl, a spoilt favourite of +Fortune. + +For Ted Brady had called, as he said he would, and from the very first +he had made plain in his grave, direct way the objects of his visits. +There was no subtlety about Ted, no finesse. He was as frank as a +music-hall love song. + +On his first visit, having handed Katie a large bunch of roses with the +stolidity of a messenger boy handing over a parcel, he had proceeded, +by way of establishing his _bona fides_, to tell her all about +himself. He supplied the facts in no settled order, just as they +happened to occur to him in the long silences with which his speech was +punctuated. Small facts jostled large facts. He spoke of his morals and +his fox-terrier in the same breath. + +'I'm on the level. Ask anyone who knows me. They'll tell you that. Say, +I got the cutest little dog you ever seen. Do you like dogs? I've never +been a fellow that's got himself mixed up with girls. I don't like 'em +as a general thing. A fellow's got too much to do keeping himself in +training, if his club expects him to do things. I belong to the Glencoe +Athletic. I ran the hundred yards dash in evens last sports there was. +They expect me to do it at the Glencoe, so I've never got myself mixed +up with girls. Till I seen you that afternoon I reckon I'd hardly +looked at a girl, honest. They didn't seem to kind of make any hit with +me. And then I seen you, and I says to myself, "That's the one." It +sort of came over me in a flash. I fell for you directly I seen you. +And I'm on the level. Don't forget that.' + +And more in the same strain, leaning on the counter and looking into +Katie's eyes with a devotion that added emphasis to his measured +speech. + +Next day he came again, and kissed her respectfully but firmly, making +a sort of shuffling dive across the counter. Breaking away, he fumbled +in his pocket and produced a ring, which he proceeded to place on her +finger with the serious air which accompanied all his actions. + +'That looks pretty good to me,' he said, as he stepped back and eyed +it. + +It struck Katie, when he had gone, how differently different men did +things. Genevieve had often related stories of men who had proposed to +her, and according to Genevieve, they always got excited and emotional, +and sometimes cried. Ted Brady had fitted her with the ring more like a +glover's assistant than anything else, and he had hardly spoken a word +from beginning to end. He had seemed to take her acquiescence for +granted. And yet there had been nothing flat or disappointing about the +proceedings. She had been thrilled throughout. It is to be supposed +that Mr Brady had the force of character which does not require the aid +of speech. + +It was not till she took the news of her engagement to old Mr Bennett +that it was borne in upon Katie that Fate did not intend to be so +wholly benevolent to her as she supposed. + +That her grandfather could offer any opposition had not occurred to her +as a possibility. She took his approval for granted. Never, as long as +she could remember, had he been anything but kind to her. And the only +possible objections to marriage from a grandfather's point of +view--badness of character, insufficient means, or inferiority of +social position--were in this case gloriously absent. + +She could not see how anyone, however hypercritical, could find a flaw +in Ted. His character was spotless. He was comfortably off. And so far +from being in any way inferior socially, it was he who condescended. +For Ted, she had discovered from conversation with Mr Murdoch, the +glazier, was no ordinary young man. He was a celebrity. So much so that +for a moment, when told the news of the engagement, Mr Murdoch, +startled out of his usual tact, had exhibited frank surprise that the +great Ted Brady should not have aimed higher. + +'You're sure you've got the name right, Katie?' he had said. 'It's +really Ted Brady? No mistake about the first name? Well-built, +good-looking young chap with brown eyes? Well, this beats me. Not,' he +went on hurriedly, 'that any young fellow mightn't think himself lucky +to get a wife like you, Katie, but Ted Brady! Why, there isn't a girl +in this part of the town, or in Harlem or the Bronx, for that matter, +who wouldn't give her eyes to be in your place. Why, Ted Brady is the +big noise. He's the star of the Glencoe.' + +'He told me he belonged to the Glencoe Athletic.' + +'Don't you believe it. It belongs to him. Why, the way that boy runs +and jumps is the real limit. There's only Billy Burton, of the +Irish-American, that can touch him. You've certainly got the pick of +the bunch, Katie.' + +He stared at her admiringly, as if for the first time realizing her +true worth. For Mr Murdoch was a great patron of sport. + +With these facts in her possession Katie had approached the interview +with her grandfather with a good deal of confidence. + +The old man listened to her recital of Mr Brady's qualities in silence. +Then he shook his head. + +'It can't be, Katie. I couldn't have it.' + +'Grandpapa!' + +'You're forgetting, my dear.' + +'Forgetting?' + +'Who ever heard of such a thing? The grand-daughter of the King of +England marrying a commoner! It wouldn't do at all.' + +Consternation, surprise, and misery kept Katie dumb. She had learned in +a hard school to be prepared for sudden blows from the hand of fate, +but this one was so entirely unforeseen that it found her unprepared, +and she was crushed by it. She knew her grandfather's obstinacy too +well to argue against the decision. + +'Oh, no, not at all,' he repeated. 'Oh, no, it wouldn't do.' + +Katie said nothing; she was beyond speech. She stood there wide-eyed +and silent among the ruins of her little air-castle. The old man patted +her hand affectionately. He was pleased at her docility. It was the +right attitude, becoming in one of her high rank. + +'I am very sorry, my dear, but--oh, no! oh, no! oh, no--' His voice +trailed away into an unintelligible mutter. He was a very old man, and +he was not always able to concentrate his thoughts on a subject for any +length of time. + +So little did Ted Brady realize at first the true complexity of the +situation that he was inclined, when he heard of the news, to treat the +crisis in the jaunty, dashing, love-laughs-at-locksmith fashion so +popular with young men of spirit when thwarted in their loves by the +interference of parents and guardians. + +It took Katie some time to convince him that, just because he had the +licence in his pocket, he could not snatch her up on his saddle-bow and +carry her off to the nearest clergyman after the manner of young +Lochinvar. + +In the first flush of his resentment at restraint he saw no reason why +he should differentiate between old Mr Bennett and the conventional +banns-forbidding father of the novelettes with which he was accustomed +to sweeten his hours of idleness. To him, till Katie explained the +intricacies of the position, Mr Bennett was simply the proud +millionaire who would not hear of his daughter marrying the artist. + +'But, Ted, dear, you don't understand,' Katie said. 'We simply couldn't +do that. There's no one but me to look after him, poor old man. How +could I run away like that and get married? What would become of him?' + +'You wouldn't be away long,' urged Mr Brady, a man of many parts, but +not a rapid thinker. 'The minister would have us fixed up inside of +half an hour. Then we'd look in at Mouquin's for a steak and fried, +just to make a sort of wedding breakfast. And then back we'd come, +hand-in-hand, and say, "Well, here we are. Now what?"' + +'He would never forgive me.' + +'That,' said Ted judicially, 'would be up to him.' + +'It would kill him. Don't you see, we know that it's all nonsense, this +idea of his; but he really thinks he is the king, and he's so old that +the shock of my disobeying him would be too much. Honest, Ted, dear, I +couldn't.' + +Gloom unutterable darkened Ted Brady's always serious countenance. The +difficulties of the situation were beginning to come home to him. + +'Maybe if I went and saw him--' he suggested at last. + +'You _could_,' said Katie doubtfully. + +Ted tightened his belt with an air of determination, and bit resolutely +on the chewing-gum which was his inseparable companion. + +'I will,' he said. + +'You'll be nice to him, Ted?' + +He nodded. He was the man of action, not words. + +It was perhaps ten minutes before he came out of the inner room in +which Mr Bennett passed his days. When he did, there was no light of +jubilation on his face. His brow was darker than ever. + +Katie looked at him anxiously. He returned the look with a sombre shake +of the head. + +'Nothing doing,' he said shortly. He paused. 'Unless,' he added, 'you +count it anything that he's made me an earl.' + +In the next two weeks several brains busied themselves with the +situation. Genevieve, reconciled to Katie after a decent interval of +wounded dignity, said she supposed there was a way out, if one could +only think of it, but it certainly got past her. The only approach to a +plan of action was suggested by the broken-nosed individual who had +been Ted's companion that day at Palisades Park, a gentleman of some +eminence in the boxing world, who rejoiced in the name of the Tennessee +Bear-Cat. + +What they ought to do, in the Bear-Cat's opinion, was to get the old +man out into Washington Square one morning. He of Tennessee would then +sasshay up in a flip manner and make a break. Ted, waiting close by, +would resent his insolence. There would be words, followed by blows. + +'See what I mean?' pursued the Bear-Cat. 'There's you and me mixing it. +I'll square the cop on the beat to leave us be; he's a friend of mine. +Pretty soon you land me one on the plexus, and I take th' count. Then +there's you hauling me up by th' collar to the old gentleman, and me +saying I quits and apologizing. See what I mean?' + +The whole, presumably, to conclude with warm expressions of gratitude +and esteem from Mr Bennett, and an instant withdrawal of the veto. + +Ted himself approved of the scheme. He said it was a cracker-jaw, and +he wondered how one so notoriously ivory-skulled as the other could +have had such an idea. The Bear-Cat said modestly that he had 'em +sometimes. And it is probable that all would have been well, had it not +been necessary to tell the plan to Katie, who was horrified at the very +idea, spoke warmly of the danger to her grandfather's nervous system, +and said she did not think the Bear-Cat could be a nice friend for Ted. +And matters relapsed into their old state of hopelessness. + +And then, one day, Katie forced herself to tell Ted that she thought it +would be better if they did not see each other for a time. She said +that these meetings were only a source of pain to both of them. It +would really be better if he did not come round for--well, quite some +time. + +It had not been easy for her to say it. The decision was the outcome of +many wakeful nights. She had asked herself the question whether it was +fair for her to keep Ted chained to her in this hopeless fashion, when, +left to himself and away from her, he might so easily find some other +girl to make him happy. + +So Ted went, reluctantly, and the little shop on Sixth Avenue knew him +no more. And Katie spent her time looking after old Mr Bennett (who had +completely forgotten the affair by now, and sometimes wondered why +Katie was not so cheerful as she had been), and--for, though unselfish, +she was human--hating those unknown girls whom in her mind's eye she +could see clustering round Ted, smiling at him, making much of him, and +driving the bare recollection of her out of his mind. + +The summer passed. July came and went, making New York an oven. August +followed, and one wondered why one had complained of July's tepid +advances. + +It was on the evening of September the eleventh that Katie, having +closed the little shop, sat in the dusk on the steps, as many thousands +of her fellow-townsmen and townswomen were doing, turning her face to +the first breeze which New York had known for two months. The hot spell +had broken abruptly that afternoon, and the city was drinking in the +coolness as a flower drinks water. + +From round the corner, where the yellow cross of the Judson Hotel shone +down on Washington Square, came the shouts of children, and the +strains, mellowed by distance, of the indefatigable barrel-organ which +had played the same tunes in the same place since the spring. + +Katie closed her eyes, and listened. It was very peaceful this evening, +so peaceful that for an instant she forgot even to think of Ted. And it +was just during this instant that she heard his voice. + +'That you, kid?' + +He was standing before her, his hands in his pockets, one foot on the +pavement, the other in the road; and if he was agitated, his voice did +not show it. + +'Ted!' + +'That's me. Can I see the old man for a minute, Katie?' + +This time it did seem to her that she could detect a slight ring of +excitement. + +'It's no use, Ted. Honest.' + +'No harm in going in and passing the time of day, is there? I've got +something I want to say to him.' + +'What?' + +'Tell you later, maybe. Is he in his room?' + +He stepped past her, and went in. As he went, he caught her arm and +pressed it, but he did not stop. She saw him go into the inner room and +heard through the door as he closed it behind him, the murmur of +voices. And almost immediately, it seemed to her, her name was called. +It was her grandfather's voice which called, high and excited. The door +opened, and Ted appeared. + +'Come here a minute, Katie, will you?' he said. 'You're wanted.' + +The old man was leaning forward in his chair. He was in a state of +extraordinary excitement. He quivered and jumped. Ted, standing by the +wall, looked as stolid as ever; but his eyes glittered. + +'Katie,' cried the old man, 'this is a most remarkable piece of news. +This gentleman has just been telling me--extraordinary. He--' + +He broke off, and looked at Ted, as he had looked at Katie when he had +tried to write the letter to the Parliament of England. + +Ted's eye, as it met Katie's, was almost defiant. + +'I want to marry you,' he said. + +'Yes, yes,' broke in Mr Bennett, impatiently, 'but--' + +'And I'm a king.' + +'Yes, yes, that's it, that's it, Katie. This gentleman is a king.' + +Once more Ted's eye met Katie's, and this time there was an imploring +look in it. + +'That's right,' he said, slowly. 'I've just been telling your +grandfather I'm the King of Coney Island.' + +'That's it. Of Coney Island.' + +'So there's no objection now to us getting married, kid--Your Royal +Highness. It's a royal alliance, see?' + +'A royal alliance,' echoed Mr Bennett. + +Out in the street, Ted held Katie's hand, and grinned a little +sheepishly. + +'You're mighty quiet, kid,' he said. 'It looks as if it don't make much +of a hit with you, the notion of being married to me.' + +'Oh, Ted! But--' + +He squeezed her hand. + +'I know what you're thinking. I guess it was raw work pulling a tale +like that on the old man. I hated to do it, but gee! when a fellow's up +against it like I was, he's apt to grab most any chance that comes +along. Why, say, kid, it kind of looked to me as if it was sort of +_meant_. Coming just now, like it did, just when it was wanted, +and just when it didn't seem possible it could happen. Why, a week ago +I was nigh on two hundred votes behind Billy Burton. The Irish-American +put him up, and everybody thought he'd be King at the Mardi Gras. And +then suddenly they came pouring in for me, till at the finish I had +Billy looking like a regular has-been. + +'It's funny the way the voting jumps about every year in this Coney +election. It was just Providence, and it didn't seem right to let it go +by. So I went in to the old man, and told him. Say, I tell you I was +just sweating when I got ready to hand it to him. It was an outside +chance he'd remember all about what the Mardi Gras at Coney was, and +just what being a king at it amounted to. Then I remembered you telling +me you'd never been to Coney, so I figured your grandfather wouldn't be +what you'd call well fixed in his information about it, so I took the +chance. + +'I tried him out first. I tried him with Brooklyn. Why, say, from the +way he took it, he'd either never heard of the place, or else he'd +forgotten what it was. I guess he don't remember much, poor old fellow. +Then I mentioned Yonkers. He asked me what Yonkers were. Then I +reckoned it was safe to bring on Coney, and he fell for it right away. +I felt mean, but it had to be done.' + +He caught her up, and swung her into the air with a perfectly impassive +face. Then, having kissed her, he lowered her gently to the ground +again. The action seemed to have relieved his feelings, for when he +spoke again it was plain that his conscience no longer troubled him. + +'And say,' he said, 'come to think of it, I don't see where there's so +much call for me to feel mean. I'm not so far short of being a regular +king. Coney's just as big as some of those kingdoms you read about on +the other side; and, from what you see in the papers about the +goings-on there, it looks to me that, having a whole week on the throne +like I'm going to have, amounts to a pretty steady job as kings go.' + + + + +AT GEISENHEIMER'S + + +As I walked to Geisenheimer's that night I was feeling blue and +restless, tired of New York, tired of dancing, tired of everything. +Broadway was full of people hurrying to the theatres. Cars rattled by. +All the electric lights in the world were blazing down on the Great +White Way. And it all seemed stale and dreary to me. + +Geisenheimer's was full as usual. All the tables were occupied, and +there were several couples already on the dancing-floor in the centre. +The band was playing 'Michigan': + + _I want to go back, I want to go back + To the place where I was born. + Far away from harm + With a milk-pail on my arm._ + +I suppose the fellow who wrote that would have called for the police if +anyone had ever really tried to get him on to a farm, but he has +certainly put something into the tune which makes you think he meant +what he said. It's a homesick tune, that. + +I was just looking round for an empty table, when a man jumped up and +came towards me, registering joy as if I had been his long-lost sister. + +He was from the country. I could see that. It was written all over him, +from his face to his shoes. + +He came up with his hand out, beaming. + +'Why, Miss Roxborough!' + +'Why not?' I said. + +'Don't you remember me?' + +I didn't. + +'My name is Ferris.' + +'It's a nice name, but it means nothing in my young life.' + +'I was introduced to you last time I came here. We danced together.' + +This seemed to bear the stamp of truth. If he was introduced to me, he +probably danced with me. It's what I'm at Geisenheimer's for. + +'When was it?' + +'A year ago last April.' + +You can't beat these rural charmers. They think New York is folded up +and put away in camphor when they leave, and only taken out again when +they pay their next visit. The notion that anything could possibly have +happened since he was last in our midst to blur the memory of that +happy evening had not occurred to Mr Ferris. I suppose he was so +accustomed to dating things from 'when I was in New York' that he +thought everybody else must do the same. + +'Why, sure, I remember you,' I said. 'Algernon Clarence, isn't it?' + +'Not Algernon Clarence. My name's Charlie.' + +'My mistake. And what's the great scheme, Mr Ferris? Do you want to +dance with me again?' + +He did. So we started. Mine not to reason why, mine but to do and die, +as the poem says. If an elephant had come into Geisenheimer's and asked +me to dance I'd have had to do it. And I'm not saying that Mr Ferris +wasn't the next thing to it. He was one of those earnest, persevering +dancers--the kind that have taken twelve correspondence lessons. + +I guess I was about due that night to meet someone from the country. +There still come days in the spring when the country seems to get a +stranglehold on me and start in pulling. This particular day had been +one of them. I got up in the morning and looked out of the window, and +the breeze just wrapped me round and began whispering about pigs and +chickens. And when I went out on Fifth Avenue there seemed to be +flowers everywhere. I headed for the Park, and there was the grass all +green, and the trees coming out, and a sort of something in the +air--why, say, if there hadn't have been a big policeman keeping an eye +on me, I'd have flung myself down and bitten chunks out of the turf. + +And as soon as I got to Geisenheimer's they played that 'Michigan' +thing. + +Why, Charlie from Squeedunk's 'entrance' couldn't have been better +worked up if he'd been a star in a Broadway show. The stage was just +waiting for him. + +But somebody's always taking the joy out of life. I ought to have +remembered that the most metropolitan thing in the metropolis is a +rustic who's putting in a week there. We weren't thinking on the same +plane, Charlie and me. The way I had been feeling all day, what I +wanted to talk about was last season's crops. The subject he fancied +was this season's chorus-girls. Our souls didn't touch by a mile and a +half. + +'This is the life!' he said. + +There's always a point when that sort of man says that. + +'I suppose you come here quite a lot?' he said. + +'Pretty often.' + +I didn't tell him that I came there every night, and that I came +because I was paid for it. If you're a professional dancer at +Geisenheimer's, you aren't supposed to advertise the fact. The +management thinks that if you did it might send the public away +thinking too hard when they saw you win the Great Contest for the +Love-r-ly Silver Cup which they offer later in the evening. Say, that +Love-r-ly Cup's a joke. I win it on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, +and Mabel Francis wins it on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. It's +all perfectly fair and square, of course. It's purely a matter of merit +who wins the Love-r-ly Cup. Anybody could win it. Only somehow they +don't. And the coincidence of the fact that Mabel and I always do has +kind of got on the management's nerves, and they don't like us to tell +people we're employed there. They prefer us to blush unseen. + +'It's a great place,' said Mr Ferris, 'and New York's a great place. +I'd like to live in New York.' + +'The loss is ours. Why don't you?' + +'Some city! But dad's dead now, and I've got the drugstore, you know.' + +He spoke as if I ought to remember reading about it in the papers. + +'And I'm making good with it, what's more. I've got push and ideas. +Say, I got married since I saw you last.' + +'You did, did you?' I said. 'Then what are you doing, may I ask, +dancing on Broadway like a gay bachelor? I suppose you have left your +wife at Hicks' Corners, singing "Where is my wandering boy tonight"?' + +'Not Hicks' Corners. Ashley, Maine. That's where I live. My wife comes +from Rodney.... Pardon me, I'm afraid I stepped on your foot.' + +'My fault,' I said; 'I lost step. Well, I wonder you aren't ashamed +even to think of your wife, when you've left her all alone out there +while you come whooping it up in New York. Haven't you got any +conscience?' + +'But I haven't left her. She's here.' + +'In New York?' + +'In this restaurant. That's her up there.' + +I looked up at the balcony. There was a face hanging over the red plush +rail. It looked to me as if it had some hidden sorrow. I'd noticed it +before, when we were dancing around, and I had wondered what the +trouble was. Now I began to see. + +'Why aren't you dancing with her and giving her a good time, then?' I +said. + +'Oh, she's having a good time.' + +'She doesn't look it. She looks as if she would like to be down here, +treading the measure.' + +'She doesn't dance much.' + +'Don't you have dances at Ashley?' + +'It's different at home. She dances well enough for Ashley, but--well, +this isn't Ashley.' + +'I see. But you're not like that?' + +He gave a kind of smirk. + +'Oh, I've been in New York before.' + +I could have bitten him, the sawn-off little rube! It made me mad. He +was ashamed to dance in public with his wife--didn't think her good +enough for him. So he had dumped her in a chair, given her a lemonade, +and told her to be good, and then gone off to have a good time. They +could have had me arrested for what I was thinking just then. + +The band began to play something else. + +'This is the life!' said Mr Ferris. 'Let's do it again.' + +'Let somebody else do it,' I said. 'I'm tired. I'll introduce you to +some friends of mine.' + +So I took him off, and whisked him on to some girls I knew at one of +the tables. + +'Shake hands with my friend Mr Ferris,' I said. 'He wants to show you +the latest steps. He does most of them on your feet.' + +I could have betted on Charlie, the Debonair Pride of Ashley. Guess +what he said? He said, 'This is the life!' + +And I left him, and went up to the balcony. + +She was leaning with her elbows on the red plush, looking down on the +dancing-floor. They had just started another tune, and hubby was moving +around with one of the girls I'd introduced him to. She didn't have to +prove to me that she came from the country. I knew it. She was a little +bit of a thing, old-fashioned looking. She was dressed in grey, with +white muslin collar and cuffs, and her hair done simple. She had a +black hat. + +I kind of hovered for awhile. It isn't the best thing I do, being shy; +as a general thing I'm more or less there with the nerve; but somehow I +sort of hesitated to charge in. + +Then I braced up, and made for the vacant chair. + +'I'll sit here, if you don't mind,' I said. + +She turned in a startled way. I could see she was wondering who I was, +and what right I had there, but wasn't certain whether it might not be +city etiquette for strangers to come and dump themselves down and start +chatting. 'I've just been dancing with your husband,' I said, to ease +things along. + +'I saw you.' + +She fixed me with a pair of big brown eyes. I took one look at them, +and then I had to tell myself that it might be pleasant, and a relief +to my feelings, to take something solid and heavy and drop it over the +rail on to hubby, but the management wouldn't like it. That was how I +felt about him just then. The poor kid was doing everything with those +eyes except crying. She looked like a dog that's been kicked. + +She looked away, and fiddled with the string of the electric light. +There was a hatpin lying on the table. She picked it up, and began to +dig at the red plush. + +'Ah, come on sis,' I said; 'tell me all about it.' + +'I don't know what you mean.' + +'You can't fool me. Tell me your troubles.' + +'I don't know you.' + +'You don't have to know a person to tell her your troubles. I sometimes +tell mine to the cat that camps out on the wall opposite my room. What +did you want to leave the country for, with summer coming on?' + +She didn't answer, but I could see it coming, so I sat still and +waited. And presently she seemed to make up her mind that, even if it +was no business of mine, it would be a relief to talk about it. + +'We're on our honeymoon. Charlie wanted to come to New York. I didn't +want to, but he was set on it. He's been here before.' + +'So he told me.' + +'He's wild about New York.' + +'But you're not.' + +'I hate it.' + +'Why?' + +She dug away at the red plush with the hatpin, picking out little bits +and dropping them over the edge. I could see she was bracing herself to +put me wise to the whole trouble. There's a time comes when things +aren't going right, and you've had all you can stand, when you have got +to tell somebody about it, no matter who it is. + +'I hate New York,' she said getting it out at last with a rush. 'I'm +scared of it. It--it isn't fair Charlie bringing me here. I didn't want +to come. I knew what would happen. I felt it all along.' + +'What do you think will happen, then?' + +She must have picked away at least an inch of the red plush before she +answered. It's lucky Jimmy, the balcony waiter, didn't see her; it +would have broken his heart; he's as proud of that red plush as if he +had paid for it himself. + +'When I first went to live at Rodney,' she said, 'two years ago--we +moved there from Illinois--there was a man there named Tyson--Jack +Tyson. He lived all alone and didn't seem to want to know anyone. I +couldn't understand it till somebody told me all about him. I can +understand it now. Jack Tyson married a Rodney girl, and they came to +New York for their honeymoon, just like us. And when they got there I +guess she got to comparing him with the fellows she saw, and comparing +the city with Rodney, and when she got home she just couldn't settle +down.' + +'Well?' + +'After they had been back in Rodney for a little while she ran away. +Back to the city, I guess.' + +'I suppose he got a divorce?' + +'No, he didn't. He still thinks she may come back to him.' + +'He still thinks she will come back?' I said. 'After she has been away +three years!' + +'Yes. He keeps her things just the same as she left them when she went +away, everything just the same.' + +'But isn't he angry with her for what she did? If I was a man and a +girl treated me that way, I'd be apt to murder her if she tried to show +up again.' + +'He wouldn't. Nor would I, if--if anything like that happened to me; +I'd wait and wait, and go on hoping all the time. And I'd go down to +the station to meet the train every afternoon, just like Jack Tyson.' + +Something splashed on the tablecloth. It made me jump. + +'For goodness' sake,' I said, 'what's your trouble? Brace up. I know +it's a sad story, but it's not your funeral.' + +'It is. It is. The same thing's going to happen to me.' + +'Take a hold on yourself. Don't cry like that.' + +'I can't help it. Oh! I knew it would happen. It's happening right now. +Look--look at him.' + +I glanced over the rail, and I saw what she meant. There was her +Charlie, dancing about all over the floor as if he had just discovered +that he hadn't lived till then. I saw him say something to the girl he +was dancing with. I wasn't near enough to hear it, but I bet it was +'This is the life!' If I had been his wife, in the same position as +this kid, I guess I'd have felt as bad as she did, for if ever a man +exhibited all the symptoms of incurable Newyorkitis, it was this +Charlie Ferris. + +'I'm not like these New York girls,' she choked. 'I can't be smart. I +don't want to be. I just want to live at home and be happy. I knew it +would happen if we came to the city. He doesn't think me good enough +for him. He looks down on me.' + +'Pull yourself together.' + +'And I do love him so!' + +Goodness knows what I should have said if I could have thought of +anything to say. But just then the music stopped, and somebody on the +floor below began to speak. + +'Ladeez 'n' gemmen,' he said, 'there will now take place our great +Numbah Contest. This gen-u-ine sporting contest--' + +It was Izzy Baermann making his nightly speech, introducing the +Love-r-ly Cup; and it meant that, for me, duty called. From where I sat +I could see Izzy looking about the room, and I knew he was looking for +me. It's the management's nightmare that one of these evenings Mabel or +I won't show up, and somebody else will get away with the Love-r-ly +Cup. + +'Sorry I've got to go,' I said. 'I have to be in this.' + +And then suddenly I had the great idea. It came to me like a flash, I +looked at her, crying there, and I looked over the rail at Charlie the +Boy Wonder, and I knew that this was where I got a stranglehold on my +place in the Hall of Fame, along with the great thinkers of the age. + +'Come on,' I said. 'Come along. Stop crying and powder your nose and +get a move on. You're going to dance this.' + +'But Charlie doesn't want to dance with me.' + +'It may have escaped your notice,' I said, 'but your Charlie is not the +only man in New York, or even in this restaurant. I'm going to dance +with Charlie myself, and I'll introduce you to someone who can go +through the movements. Listen!' + +'The lady of each couple'--this was Izzy, getting it off his +diaphragm--'will receive a ticket containing a num-bah. The dance will +then proceed, and the num-bahs will be eliminated one by one, those +called out by the judge kindly returning to their seats as their +num-bah is called. The num-bah finally remaining is the winning +num-bah. The contest is a genuine sporting contest, decided purely by +the skill of the holders of the various num-bahs.' (Izzy stopped +blushing at the age of six.) 'Will ladies now kindly step forward and +receive their num-bahs. The winner, the holder of the num-bah left on +the floor when the other num-bahs have been eliminated' (I could see +Izzy getting more and more uneasy, wondering where on earth I'd got +to), 'will receive this Love-r-ly Silver Cup, presented by the +management. Ladies will now kindly step forward and receive their +num-bahs.' + +I turned to Mrs Charlie. 'There,' I said, 'don't you want to win a +Love-r-ly Silver Cup?' + +'But I couldn't.' + +'You never know your luck.' + +'But it isn't luck. Didn't you hear him say it's a contest decided +purely by skill?' + +'Well, try your skill, then.' I felt as if I could have shaken her. +'For goodness' sake,' I said, 'show a little grit. Aren't you going to +stir a finger to keep your Charlie? Suppose you win, think what it will +mean. He will look up to you for the rest of your life. When he starts +talking about New York, all you will have to say is, "New York? Ah, +yes, that was the town I won that Love-r-ly Silver Cup in, was it not?" +and he'll drop as if you had hit him behind the ear with a sandbag. +Pull yourself together and try.' + +I saw those brown eyes of hers flash, and she said, 'I'll try.' + +'Good for you,' I said. 'Now you get those tears dried, and fix +yourself up, and I'll go down and get the tickets.' + +Izzy was mighty relieved when I bore down on him. + +'Gee!' he said, 'I thought you had run away, or was sick or something. +Here's your ticket.' + +'I want two, Izzy. One's for a friend of mine. And I say, Izzy, I'd +take it as a personal favour if you would let her stop on the floor as +one of the last two couples. There's a reason. She's a kid from the +country, and she wants to make a hit.' + +'Sure, that'll be all right. Here are the tickets. Yours is thirty-six, +hers is ten.' He lowered his voice. 'Don't go mixing them.' + +I went back to the balcony. On the way I got hold of Charlie. + +'We're dancing this together,' I said. + +He grinned all across his face. + +I found Mrs Charlie looking as if she had never shed a tear in her +life. She certainly had pluck, that kid. + +'Come on,' I said. 'Stick to your ticket like wax and watch your step.' + +I guess you've seen these sporting contests at Geisenheimer's. Or, if +you haven't seen them at Geisenheimer's, you've seen them somewhere +else. They're all the same. + +When we began, the floor was so crowded that there was hardly +elbow-room. Don't tell me there aren't any optimists nowadays. Everyone +was looking as if they were wondering whether to have the Love-r-ly Cup +in the sitting-room or the bedroom. You never saw such a hopeful gang +in your life. + +Presently Izzy gave tongue. The management expects him to be humorous +on these occasions, so he did his best. + +'Num-bahs, seven, eleven, and twenty-one will kindly rejoin their +sorrowing friends.' + +This gave us a little more elbow-room, and the band started again. + +A few minutes later, Izzy once more: 'Num-bahs thirteen, sixteen, and +seventeen--good-bye.' + +Off we went again. + +'Num-bah twelve, we hate to part with you, but--back to your table!' + +A plump girl in a red hat, who had been dancing with a kind smile, as +if she were doing it to amuse the children, left the floor. + +'Num-bahs six, fifteen, and twenty, thumbs down!' + +And pretty soon the only couples left were Charlie and me, Mrs Charlie +and the fellow I'd introduced her to, and a bald-headed man and a girl +in a white hat. He was one of your stick-at-it performers. He had been +dancing all the evening. I had noticed him from the balcony. He looked +like a hard-boiled egg from up there. + +He was a trier all right, that fellow, and had things been otherwise, +so to speak, I'd have been glad to see him win. But it was not to be. +Ah, no! + +'Num-bah nineteen, you're getting all flushed. Take a rest.' + +So there it was, a straight contest between me and Charlie and Mrs +Charlie and her man. Every nerve in my system was tingling with +suspense and excitement, was it not? It was not. + +Charlie, as I've already hinted, was not a dancer who took much of his +attention off his feet while in action. He was there to do his +durnedest, not to inspect objects of interest by the wayside. The +correspondence college he'd attended doesn't guarantee to teach you to +do two things at once. It won't bind itself to teach you to look round +the room while you're dancing. So Charlie hadn't the least suspicion of +the state of the drama. He was breathing heavily down my neck in a +determined sort of way, with his eyes glued to the floor. All he knew +was that the competition had thinned out a bit, and the honour of +Ashley, Maine, was in his hands. + +You know how the public begins to sit up and take notice when these +dance-contests have been narrowed down to two couples. There are +evenings when I quite forget myself, when I'm one of the last two left +in, and get all excited. There's a sort of hum in the air, and, as you +go round the room, people at the tables start applauding. Why, if you +didn't know about the inner workings of the thing, you'd be all of a +twitter. + +It didn't take my practised ear long to discover that it wasn't me and +Charlie that the great public was cheering for. We would go round the +floor without getting a hand, and every time Mrs Charlie and her guy +got to a corner there was a noise like election night. She sure had +made a hit. + +I took a look at her across the floor, and I didn't wonder. She was a +different kid from what she'd been upstairs. I never saw anybody look +so happy and pleased with herself. Her eyes were like lamps, and her +cheeks all pink, and she was going at it like a champion. I knew what +had made a hit with the people. It was the look of her. She made you +think of fresh milk and new-laid eggs and birds singing. To see her was +like getting away to the country in August. It's funny about people who +live in the city. They chuck out their chests, and talk about little +old New York being good enough for them, and there's a street in heaven +they call Broadway, and all the rest of it; but it seems to me that +what they really live for is that three weeks in the summer when they +get away into the country. I knew exactly why they were cheering so +hard for Mrs Charlie. She made them think of their holidays which were +coming along, when they would go and board at the farm and drink out of +the old oaken bucket, and call the cows by their first names. + +Gee! I felt just like that myself. All day the country had been tugging +at me, and now it tugged worse than ever. + +I could have smelled the new-mown hay if it wasn't that when you're in +Geisenheimer's you have to smell Geisenheimer's, because it leaves no +chance for competition. + +'Keep working,' I said to Charlie. 'It looks to me as if we are going +back in the betting.' + +'Uh, huh!' he says, too busy to blink. + +'Do some of those fancy steps of yours. We need them in our business.' + +And the way that boy worked--it was astonishing! + +Out of the corner of my eye I could see Izzy Baermann, and he wasn't +looking happy. He was nerving himself for one of those quick referee's +decisions--the sort you make and then duck under the ropes, and run +five miles, to avoid the incensed populace. It was this kind of thing +happening every now and then that prevented his job being perfect. +Mabel Francis told me that one night when Izzy declared her the winner +of the great sporting contest, it was such raw work that she thought +there'd have been a riot. It looked pretty much as if he was afraid the +same thing was going to happen now. There wasn't a doubt which of us +two couples was the one that the customers wanted to see win that +Love-r-ly Silver Cup. It was a walk-over for Mrs Charlie, and Charlie +and I were simply among those present. + +But Izzy had his duty to do, and drew a salary for doing it, so he +moistened his lips, looked round to see that his strategic railways +weren't blocked, swallowed twice, and said in a husky voice: + +'Num-bah ten, please re-tiah!' + +I stopped at once. + +'Come along,' said I to Charlie. 'That's our exit cue.' + +And we walked off the floor amidst applause. + +'Well,' says Charlie, taking out his handkerchief and attending to his +brow, which was like the village blacksmith's, 'we didn't do so bad, +did we? We didn't do so bad, I guess! We--' + +And he looked up at the balcony, expecting to see the dear little wife, +draped over the rail, worshipping him; when, just as his eye is moving +up, it gets caught by the sight of her a whole heap lower down than he +had expected--on the floor, in fact. + +She wasn't doing much in the worshipping line just at that moment. She +was too busy. + +It was a regular triumphal progress for the kid. She and her partner +were doing one or two rounds now for exhibition purposes, like the +winning couple always do at Geisenheimer's, and the room was fairly +rising at them. You'd have thought from the way they were clapping that +they had been betting all their spare cash on her. + +Charlie gets her well focused, then he lets his jaw drop, till he +pretty near bumped it against the floor. + +'But--but--but--' he begins. + +'I know,' I said. 'It begins to look as if she could dance well enough +for the city after all. It begins to look as if she had sort of put one +over on somebody, don't it? It begins to look as if it were a pity you +didn't think of dancing with her yourself.' + +'I--I--I--' + +'You come along and have a nice cold drink,' I said, 'and you'll soon +pick up.' + +He tottered after me to a table, looking as if he had been hit by a +street-car. He had got his. + +I was so busy looking after Charlie, flapping the towel and working on +him with the oxygen, that, if you'll believe me, it wasn't for quite a +time that I thought of glancing around to see how the thing had struck +Izzy Baermann. + +If you can imagine a fond father whose only son has hit him with a +brick, jumped on his stomach, and then gone off with all his money, you +have a pretty good notion of how poor old Izzy looked. He was staring +at me across the room, and talking to himself and jerking his hands +about. Whether he thought he was talking to me, or whether he was +rehearsing the scene where he broke it to the boss that a mere stranger +had got away with his Love-r-ly Silver Cup, I don't know. Whichever it +was, he was being mighty eloquent. + +I gave him a nod, as much as to say that it would all come right in the +future, and then I turned to Charlie again. He was beginning to pick +up. + +'She won the cup!' he said in a dazed voice, looking at me as if I +could do something about it. + +'You bet she did!' + +'But--well, what do you know about that?' + +I saw that the moment had come to put it straight to him. 'I'll tell +you what I know about it,' I said. 'If you take my advice, you'll hustle +that kid straight back to Ashley--or wherever it is that you said you +poison the natives by making up the wrong prescriptions--before she +gets New York into her system. When I was talking to her upstairs, she +was telling me about a fellow in her village who got it in the neck +just the same as you're apt to do.' + +He started. 'She was telling you about Jack Tyson?' + +'That was his name--Jack Tyson. He lost his wife through letting her +have too much New York. Don't you think it's funny she should have +mentioned him if she hadn't had some idea that she might act just the +same as his wife did?' + +He turned quite green. + +'You don't think she would do that?' + +'Well, if you'd heard her--She couldn't talk of anything except this +Tyson, and what his wife did to him. She talked of it sort of sad, kind +of regretful, as if she was sorry, but felt that it had to be. I could +see she had been thinking about it a whole lot.' + +Charlie stiffened in his seat, and then began to melt with pure fright. +He took up his empty glass with a shaking hand and drank a long drink +out of it. It didn't take much observation to see that he had had the +jolt he wanted, and was going to be a whole heap less jaunty and +metropolitan from now on. In fact, the way he looked, I should say he +had finished with metropolitan jauntiness for the rest of his life. + +'I'll take her home tomorrow,' he said. 'But--will she come?' + +'That's up to you. If you can persuade her--Here she is now. I should +start at once.' + +Mrs Charlie, carrying the cup, came to the table. I was wondering what +would be the first thing she would say. If it had been Charlie, of +course he'd have said, 'This is the life!' but I looked for something +snappier from her. If I had been in her place there were at least ten +things I could have thought of to say, each nastier than the other. + +She sat down and put the cup on the table. Then she gave the cup a long +look. Then she drew a deep breath. Then she looked at Charlie. + +'Oh, Charlie, dear,' she said, 'I do wish I'd been dancing with you!' + +Well, I'm not sure that that wasn't just as good as anything I would +have said. Charlie got right off the mark. After what I had told him, +he wasn't wasting any time. + +'Darling,' he said, humbly, 'you're a wonder! What will they say about +this at home?' He did pause here for a moment, for it took nerve to say +it; but then he went right on. 'Mary, how would it be if we went home +right away--first train tomorrow, and showed it to them?' + +'Oh, Charlie!' she said. + +His face lit up as if somebody had pulled a switch. + +'You will? You don't want to stop on? You aren't wild about New York?' + +'If there was a train,' she said, 'I'd start tonight. But I thought you +loved the city so, Charlie?' + +He gave a kind of shiver. 'I never want to see it again in my life!' he +said. + +'You'll excuse me,' I said, getting up, 'I think there's a friend of +mine wants to speak to me.' + +And I crossed over to where Izzy had been standing for the last five +minutes, making signals to me with his eyebrows. + +You couldn't have called Izzy coherent at first. He certainly had +trouble with his vocal chords, poor fellow. There was one of those +African explorer men used to come to Geisenheimer's a lot when he was +home from roaming the trackless desert, and he used to tell me about +tribes he had met who didn't use real words at all, but talked to one +another in clicks and gurgles. He imitated some of their chatter one +night to amuse me, and, believe me, Izzy Baermann started talking the +same language now. Only he didn't do it to amuse me. + +He was like one of those gramophone records when it's getting into its +stride. + +'Be calm, Isadore,' I said. 'Something is troubling you. Tell me all +about it.' + +He clicked some more, and then he got it out. + +'Say, are you crazy? What did you do it for? Didn't I tell you as plain +as I could; didn't I say it twenty times, when you came for the +tickets, that yours was thirty-six?' + +'Didn't you say my friend's was thirty-six?' + +'Are you deaf? I said hers was ten.' + +'Then,' I said handsomely, 'say no more. The mistake was mine. It +begins to look as if I must have got them mixed.' + +He did a few Swedish exercises. + +'Say no more? That's good! That's great! You've got nerve. I'll say +that.' + +'It was a lucky mistake, Izzy. It saved your life. The people would +have lynched you if you had given me the cup. They were solid for her.' + +'What's the boss going to say when I tell him?' + +'Never mind what the boss will say. Haven't you any romance in your +system, Izzy? Look at those two sitting there with their heads +together. Isn't it worth a silver cup to have made them happy for life? +They are on their honeymoon, Isadore. Tell the boss exactly how it +happened, and say that I thought it was up to Geisenheimer's to give +them a wedding-present.' + +He clicked for a spell. + +'Ah!' he said. 'Ah! now you've done it! Now you've given yourself away! +You did it on purpose. You mixed those tickets on purpose. I thought as +much. Say, who do you think you are, doing this sort of thing? Don't +you know that professional dancers are three for ten cents? I could go +out right now and whistle, and get a dozen girls for your job. The +boss'll sack you just one minute after I tell him.' + +'No, he won't, Izzy, because I'm going to resign.' + +'You'd better!' + +'That's what I think. I'm sick of this place, Izzy. I'm sick of +dancing. I'm sick of New York. I'm sick of everything. I'm going back +to the country. I thought I had got the pigs and chickens clear out of +my system, but I hadn't. I've suspected it for a long, long time, and +tonight I know it. Tell the boss, with my love, that I'm sorry, but it +had to be done. And if he wants to talk back, he must do it by letter: +Mrs John Tyson, Rodney, Maine, is the address.' + + + + +THE MAKING OF MAC'S + + +Mac's Restaurant--nobody calls it MacFarland's--is a mystery. It is off +the beaten track. It is not smart. It does not advertise. It provides +nothing nearer to an orchestra than a solitary piano, yet, with all +these things against it, it is a success. In theatrical circles +especially it holds a position which might turn the white lights of +many a supper-palace green with envy. + +This is mysterious. You do not expect Soho to compete with and even +eclipse Piccadilly in this way. And when Soho does so compete, there is +generally romance of some kind somewhere in the background. + +Somebody happened to mention to me casually that Henry, the old waiter, +had been at Mac's since its foundation. + +'Me?' said Henry, questioned during a slack spell in the afternoon. +'Rather!' + +'Then can you tell me what it was that first gave the place the impetus +which started it on its upward course? What causes should you say were +responsible for its phenomenal prosperity? What--' + +'What gave it a leg-up? Is that what you're trying to get at?' + +'Exactly. What gave it a leg-up? Can you tell me?' + +'Me?' said Henry. 'Rather!' + +And he told me this chapter from the unwritten history of the London +whose day begins when Nature's finishes. + + * * * * * + +Old Mr MacFarland (_said Henry_) started the place fifteen years +ago. He was a widower with one son and what you might call half a +daughter. That's to say, he had adopted her. Katie was her name, and +she was the child of a dead friend of his. The son's name was Andy. A +little freckled nipper he was when I first knew him--one of those +silent kids that don't say much and have as much obstinacy in them as +if they were mules. Many's the time, in them days, I've clumped him on +the head and told him to do something; and he didn't run yelling to his +pa, same as most kids would have done, but just said nothing and went +on not doing whatever it was I had told him to do. That was the sort of +disposition Andy had, and it grew on him. Why, when he came back from +Oxford College the time the old man sent for him--what I'm going to +tell you about soon--he had a jaw on him like the ram of a battleship. +Katie was the kid for my money. I liked Katie. We all liked Katie. + +Old MacFarland started out with two big advantages. One was Jules, and +the other was me. Jules came from Paris, and he was the greatest cook +you ever seen. And me--well, I was just come from ten years as waiter +at the Guelph, and I won't conceal it from you that I gave the place a +tone. I gave Soho something to think about over its chop, believe me. +It was a come-down in the world for me, maybe, after the Guelph, but +what I said to myself was that, when you get a tip in Soho, it may be +only tuppence, but you keep it; whereas at the Guelph about ninety-nine +hundredths of it goes to helping to maintain some blooming head waiter +in the style to which he has been accustomed. It was through my kind of +harping on that fact that me and the Guelph parted company. The head +waiter complained to the management the day I called him a fat-headed +vampire. + +Well, what with me and what with Jules, MacFarland's--it wasn't Mac's +in them days--began to get a move on. Old MacFarland, who knew a good +man when he saw one and always treated me more like a brother than +anything else, used to say to me, 'Henry, if this keeps up, I'll be +able to send the boy to Oxford College'; until one day he changed it +to, 'Henry, I'm going to send the boy to Oxford College'; and next +year, sure enough, off he went. + +Katie was sixteen then, and she had just been given the cashier job, as +a treat. She wanted to do something to help the old man, so he put her +on a high chair behind a wire cage with a hole in it, and she gave the +customers their change. And let me tell you, mister, that a man that +wasn't satisfied after he'd had me serve him a dinner cooked by Jules +and then had a chat with Katie through the wire cage would have groused +at Paradise. For she was pretty, was Katie, and getting prettier every +day. I spoke to the boss about it. I said it was putting temptation in +the girl's way to set her up there right in the public eye, as it were. +And he told me to hop it. So I hopped it. + +Katie was wild about dancing. Nobody knew it till later, but all this +while, it turned out, she was attending regular one of them schools. +That was where she went to in the afternoons, when we all thought she +was visiting girl friends. It all come out after, but she fooled us +then. Girls are like monkeys when it comes to artfulness. She called me +Uncle Bill, because she said the name Henry always reminded her of cold +mutton. If it had been young Andy that had said it I'd have clumped him +one; but he never said anything like that. Come to think of it, he +never said anything much at all. He just thought a heap without opening +his face. + +So young Andy went off to college, and I said to him, 'Now then, you +young devil, you be a credit to us, or I'll fetch you a clip when you +come home.' And Katie said, 'Oh, Andy, I _shall_ miss you.' And +Andy didn't say nothing to me, and he didn't say nothing to Katie, but +he gave her a look, and later in the day I found her crying, and she +said she'd got toothache, and I went round the corner to the chemist's +and brought her something for it. + +It was in the middle of Andy's second year at college that the old man +had the stroke which put him out of business. He went down under it as +if he'd been hit with an axe, and the doctor tells him he'll never be +able to leave his bed again. + +So they sent for Andy, and he quit his college, and come back to London +to look after the restaurant. + +I was sorry for the kid. I told him so in a fatherly kind of way. And +he just looked at me and says, 'Thanks very much, Henry.' + +'What must be must be,' I says. 'Maybe, it's all for the best. Maybe +it's better you're here than in among all those young devils in your +Oxford school what might be leading you astray.' + +'If you would think less of me and more of your work, Henry,' he says, +'perhaps that gentleman over there wouldn't have to shout sixteen times +for the waiter.' + +Which, on looking into it, I found to be the case, and he went away +without giving me no tip, which shows what you lose in a hard world by +being sympathetic. + +I'm bound to say that young Andy showed us all jolly quick that he +hadn't come home just to be an ornament about the place. There was +exactly one boss in the restaurant, and it was him. It come a little +hard at first to have to be respectful to a kid whose head you had +spent many a happy hour clumping for his own good in the past; but he +pretty soon showed me I could do it if I tried, and I done it. As for +Jules and the two young fellers that had been taken on to help me owing +to increase of business, they would jump through hoops and roll over if +he just looked at them. He was a boy who liked his own way, was Andy, +and, believe me, at MacFarland's Restaurant he got it. + +And then, when things had settled down into a steady jog, Katie took +the bit in her teeth. + +She done it quite quiet and unexpected one afternoon when there was +only me and her and Andy in the place. And I don't think either of them +knew I was there, for I was taking an easy on a chair at the back, +reading an evening paper. + +She said, kind of quiet, 'Oh, Andy.' + +'Yes, darling,' he said. + +And that was the first I knew that there was anything between them. + +'Andy, I've something to tell you.' + +'What is it?' + +She kind of hesitated. + +'Andy, dear, I shan't be able to help any more in the restaurant.' + +He looked at her, sort of surprised. + +'What do you mean?' + +'I'm--I'm going on the stage.' + +I put down my paper. What do you mean? Did I listen? Of course I +listened. What do you take me for? + +From where I sat I could see young Andy's face, and I didn't need any +more to tell me there was going to be trouble. That jaw of his was +right out. I forgot to tell you that the old man had died, poor old +feller, maybe six months before, so that now Andy was the real boss +instead of just acting boss; and what's more, in the nature of things, +he was, in a manner of speaking, Katie's guardian, with power to tell +her what she could do and what she couldn't. And I felt that Katie +wasn't going to have any smooth passage with this stage business which +she was giving him. Andy didn't hold with the stage--not with any girl +he was fond of being on it anyway. And when Andy didn't like a thing he +said so. + +He said so now. + +'You aren't going to do anything of the sort.' + +'Don't be horrid about it, Andy dear. I've got a big chance. Why should +you be horrid about it?' + +'I'm not going to argue about it. You don't go.' + +'But it's such a big chance. And I've been working for it for years.' + +'How do you mean working for it?' + +And then it came out about this dancing-school she'd been attending +regular. + +When she'd finished telling him about it, he just shoved out his jaw +another inch. + +'You aren't going on the stage.' + +'But it's such a chance. I saw Mr Mandelbaum yesterday, and he saw me +dance, and he was very pleased, and said he would give me a solo dance +to do in this new piece he's putting on.' + +'You aren't going on the stage.' + +What I always say is, you can't beat tact. If you're smooth and tactful +you can get folks to do anything you want; but if you just shove your +jaw out at them, and order them about, why, then they get their backs +up and sauce you. I knew Katie well enough to know that she would do +anything for Andy, if he asked her properly; but she wasn't going to +stand this sort of thing. But you couldn't drive that into the head of +a feller like young Andy with a steam-hammer. + +She flared up, quick, as if she couldn't hold herself in no longer. + +'I certainly am,' she said. + +'You know what it means?' + +'What does it mean?' + +'The end of--everything.' + +She kind of blinked as if he'd hit her, then she chucks her chin up. + +'Very well,' she says. 'Good-bye.' + +'Good-bye,' says Andy, the pig-headed young mule; and she walks out one +way and he walks out another. + + * * * * * + +I don't follow the drama much as a general rule, but seeing that it was +now, so to speak, in the family, I did keep an eye open for the +newspaper notices of 'The Rose Girl', which was the name of the piece +which Mr Mandelbaum was letting Katie do a solo dance in; and while +some of them cussed the play considerable, they all gave Katie a nice +word. One feller said that she was like cold water on the morning +after, which is high praise coming from a newspaper man. + +There wasn't a doubt about it. She was a success. You see, she was +something new, and London always sits up and takes notice when you give +it that. + +There were pictures of her in the papers, and one evening paper had a +piece about 'How I Preserve My Youth' signed by her. I cut it out and +showed it to Andy. + +He gave it a look. Then he gave me a look, and I didn't like his eye. + +'Well?' he says. + +'Pardon,' I says. + +'What about it?' he says. + +'I don't know,' I says. + +'Get back to your work,' he says. + +So I got back. + +It was that same night that the queer thing happened. + +We didn't do much in the supper line at MacFarland's as a rule in them +days, but we kept open, of course, in case Soho should take it into its +head to treat itself to a welsh rabbit before going to bed; so all +hands was on deck, ready for the call if it should come, at half past +eleven that night; but we weren't what you might term sanguine. + +Well, just on the half-hour, up drives a taxicab, and in comes a party +of four. There was a nut, another nut, a girl, and another girl. And +the second girl was Katie. + +'Hallo, Uncle Bill!' she says. + +'Good evening, madam,' I says dignified, being on duty. + +'Oh, stop it, Uncle Bill,' she says. 'Say "Hallo!" to a pal, and smile +prettily, or I'll tell them about the time you went to the White City.' + +Well, there's some bygones that are best left bygones, and the night at +the White City what she was alluding to was one of them. I still +maintain, as I always shall maintain, that the constable had no right +to--but, there, it's a story that wouldn't interest you. And, anyway, +I was glad to see Katie again, so I give her a smile. + +'Not so much of it,' I says. 'Not so much of it. I'm glad to see you, +Katie.' + +'Three cheers! Jimmy, I want to introduce you to my friend, Uncle Bill. +Ted, this is Uncle Bill. Violet, this is Uncle Bill.' + +It wasn't my place to fetch her one on the side of the head, but I'd of +liked to have; for she was acting like she'd never used to act when I +knew her--all tough and bold. Then it come to me that she was nervous. +And natural, too, seeing young Andy might pop out any moment. + +And sure enough out he popped from the back room at that very instant. +Katie looked at him, and he looked at Katie, and I seen his face get +kind of hard; but he didn't say a word. And presently he went out +again. + +I heard Katie breathe sort of deep. + +'He's looking well, Uncle Bill, ain't he?' she says to me, very soft. + +'Pretty fair,' I says. 'Well, kid, I been reading the pieces in the +papers. You've knocked 'em.' + +'Ah, don't Bill,' she says, as if I'd hurt her. And me meaning only to +say the civil thing. Girls are rum. + +When the party had paid their bill and give me a tip which made me +think I was back at the Guelph again--only there weren't any Dick +Turpin of a head waiter standing by for his share--they hopped it. But +Katie hung back and had a word with me. + +'He _was_ looking well, wasn't he, Uncle Bill?' + +'Rather!' + +'Does--does he ever speak of me?' + +'I ain't heard him.' + +'I suppose he's still pretty angry with me, isn't he, Uncle Bill? +You're sure you've never heard him speak of me?' + +So, to cheer her up, I tells her about the piece in the paper I showed +him; but it didn't seem to cheer her up any. And she goes out. + +The very next night in she come again for supper, but with different +nuts and different girls. There was six of them this time, counting +her. And they'd hardly sat down at their table, when in come the +fellers she had called Jimmy and Ted with two girls. And they sat +eating of their suppers and chaffing one another across the floor, all +as pleasant and sociable as you please. + +'I say, Katie,' I heard one of the nuts say, 'you were right. He's +worth the price of admission.' + +I don't know who they meant, but they all laughed. And every now and +again I'd hear them praising the food, which I don't wonder at, for +Jules had certainly done himself proud. All artistic temperament, these +Frenchmen are. The moment I told him we had company, so to speak, he +blossomed like a flower does when you put it in water. + +'Ah, see, at last!' he says, trying to grab me and kiss me. 'Our fame +has gone abroad in the world which amuses himself, ain't it? For a good +supper connexion I have always prayed, and he has arrived.' + +Well, it did begin to look as if he was right. Ten high-class +supper-folk in an evening was pretty hot stuff for MacFarland's. I'm +bound to say I got excited myself. I can't deny that I missed the +Guelph at times. + +On the fifth night, when the place was fairly packed and looked for all +the world like Oddy's or Romano's, and me and the two young fellers +helping me was working double tides, I suddenly understood, and I went +up to Katie and, bending over her very respectful with a bottle, I +whispers, 'Hot stuff, kid. This is a jolly fine boom you're working for +the old place.' And by the way she smiled back at me, I seen I had +guessed right. + +Andy was hanging round, keeping an eye on things, as he always done, +and I says to him, when I was passing, 'She's doing us proud, bucking +up the old place, ain't she?' And he says, 'Get on with your work.' And +I got on. + +Katie hung back at the door, when she was on her way out, and had a +word with me. + +'Has he said anything about me, Uncle Bill?' + +'Not a word,' I says. + +And she goes out. + +You've probably noticed about London, mister, that a flock of sheep +isn't in it with the nuts, the way they all troop on each other's heels +to supper-places. One month they're all going to one place, next month +to another. Someone in the push starts the cry that he's found a new +place, and off they all go to try it. The trouble with most of the +places is that once they've got the custom they think it's going to +keep on coming and all they've got to do is to lean back and watch it +come. Popularity comes in at the door, and good food and good service +flies out at the window. We wasn't going to have any of that at +MacFarland's. Even if it hadn't been that Andy would have come down +like half a ton of bricks on the first sign of slackness, Jules and me +both of us had our professional reputations to keep up. I didn't give +myself no airs when I seen things coming our way. I worked all the +harder, and I seen to it that the four young fellers under me--there +was four now--didn't lose no time fetching of the orders. + +The consequence was that the difference between us and most popular +restaurants was that we kept our popularity. We fed them well, and we +served them well; and once the thing had started rolling it didn't +stop. Soho isn't so very far away from the centre of things, when you +come to look at it, and they didn't mind the extra step, seeing that +there was something good at the end of it. So we got our popularity, +and we kept our popularity; and we've got it to this day. That's how +MacFarland's came to be what it is, mister. + + * * * * * + +With the air of one who has told a well-rounded tale, Henry ceased, and +observed that it was wonderful the way Mr Woodward, of Chelsea, +preserved his skill in spite of his advanced years. + +I stared at him. + +'But, heavens, man!' I cried, 'you surely don't think you've finished? +What about Katie and Andy? What happened to them? Did they ever come +together again?' + +'Oh, ah,' said Henry, 'I was forgetting!' + +And he resumed. + + * * * * * + +As time went on, I begin to get pretty fed up with young Andy. He was +making a fortune as fast as any feller could out of the sudden boom in +the supper-custom, and he knowing perfectly well that if it hadn't of +been for Katie there wouldn't of been any supper-custom at all; and +you'd of thought that anyone claiming to be a human being would have +had the gratitood to forgive and forget and go over and say a civil +word to Katie when she come in. But no, he just hung round looking +black at all of them; and one night he goes and fairly does it. + +The place was full that night, and Katie was there, and the piano +going, and everybody enjoying themselves, when the young feller at the +piano struck up the tune what Katie danced to in the show. Catchy tune +it was. 'Lum-tum-tum, tiddle-iddle-um.' Something like that it went. +Well, the young feller struck up with it, and everybody begin clapping +and hammering on the tables and hollering to Katie to get up and dance; +which she done, in an open space in the middle, and she hadn't hardly +started when along come young Andy. + +He goes up to her, all jaw, and I seen something that wanted dusting on +the table next to 'em, so I went up and began dusting it, so by good +luck I happened to hear the whole thing. + +He says to her, very quiet, 'You can't do that here. What do you think +this place is?' + +And she says to him, 'Oh, Andy!' + +'I'm very much obliged to you,' he says, 'for all the trouble you +seem to be taking, but it isn't necessary. MacFarland's got on very +well before your well-meant efforts to turn it into a bear-garden.' + +And him coining the money from the supper-custom! Sometimes I +think gratitood's a thing of the past and this world not fit for +a self-respecting rattlesnake to live in. + +'Andy!' she says. + +'That's all. We needn't argue about it. If you want to come here and +have supper, I can't stop you. But I'm not going to have the place +turned into a night-club.' + +I don't know when I've heard anything like it. If it hadn't of been +that I hadn't of got the nerve, I'd have give him a look. + +Katie didn't say another word, but just went back to her table. + +But the episode, as they say, wasn't conclooded. As soon as the party +she was with seen that she was through dancing, they begin to kick up a +row; and one young nut with about an inch and a quarter of forehead and +the same amount of chin kicked it up especial. + +'No, I say! I say, you know!' he hollered. 'That's too bad, you know. +Encore! Don't stop. Encore!' + +Andy goes up to him. + +'I must ask you, please, not to make so much noise,' he says, quite +respectful. 'You are disturbing people.' + +'Disturbing be damned! Why shouldn't she--' + +'One moment. You can make all the noise you please out in the street, +but as long as you stay in here you'll be quiet. Do you understand?' + +Up jumps the nut. He'd had quite enough to drink. I know, because I'd +been serving him. + +'Who the devil are you?' he says. + +'Sit down,' says Andy. + +And the young feller took a smack at him. And the next moment Andy had +him by the collar and was chucking him out in a way that would have +done credit to a real professional down Whitechapel way. He dumped him +on the pavement as neat as you please. + +That broke up the party. + +You can never tell with restaurants. What kills one makes another. I've +no doubt that if we had chucked out a good customer from the Guelph +that would have been the end of the place. But it only seemed to do +MacFarland's good. I guess it gave just that touch to the place which +made the nuts think that this was real Bohemia. Come to think of it, it +does give a kind of charm to a place, if you feel that at any moment +the feller at the next table to you may be gathered up by the slack of +his trousers and slung into the street. + +Anyhow, that's the way our supper-custom seemed to look at it; and +after that you had to book a table in advance if you wanted to eat with +us. They fairly flocked to the place. + +But Katie didn't. She didn't flock. She stayed away. And no wonder, +after Andy behaving so bad. I'd of spoke to him about it, only he +wasn't the kind of feller you do speak to about things. + +One day I says to him to cheer him up, 'What price this restaurant now, +Mr Andy?' + +'Curse the restaurant,' he says. + +And him with all that supper-custom! It's a rum world! + +Mister, have you ever had a real shock--something that came out of +nowhere and just knocked you flat? I have, and I'm going to tell you +about it. + +When a man gets to be my age, and has a job of work which keeps him +busy till it's time for him to go to bed, he gets into the habit of not +doing much worrying about anything that ain't shoved right under his +nose. That's why, about now, Katie had kind of slipped my mind. It +wasn't that I wasn't fond of the kid, but I'd got so much to think +about, what with having four young fellers under me and things being in +such a rush at the restaurant that, if I thought of her at all, I just +took it for granted that she was getting along all right, and didn't +bother. To be sure we hadn't seen nothing of her at MacFarland's since +the night when Andy bounced her pal with the small size in foreheads, +but that didn't worry me. If I'd been her, I'd have stopped away the +same as she done, seeing that young Andy still had his hump. I took it +for granted, as I'm telling you, that she was all right, and that the +reason we didn't see nothing of her was that she was taking her +patronage elsewhere. + +And then, one evening, which happened to be my evening off, I got a +letter, and for ten minutes after I read it I was knocked flat. + +You get to believe in fate when you get to be my age, and fate certainly +had taken a hand in this game. If it hadn't of been my evening off, +don't you see, I wouldn't have got home till one o'clock or past that +in the morning, being on duty. Whereas, seeing it was my evening off, +I was back at half past eight. + +I was living at the same boarding-house in Bloomsbury what I'd lived at +for the past ten years, and when I got there I find her letter shoved +half under my door. + +I can tell you every word of it. This is how it went: + + _Darling Uncle Bill,_ + + _Don't be too sorry when you read this. It is nobody's fault, + but I am just tired of everything, and I want to end it all. You + have been such a dear to me always that I want you to be good to + me now. I should not like Andy to know the truth, so I want you + to make it seem as if it had happened naturally. You will do this + for me, won't you? It will be quite easy. By the time you get this, + it will be one, and it will all be over, and you can just come up + and open the window and let the gas out and then everyone will + think I just died naturally. It will be quite easy. I am leaving + the door unlocked so that you can get in. I am in the room just + above yours. I took it yesterday, so as to be near you. Good-bye, + Uncle Bill. You will do it for me, won't you? I don't want Andy to + know what it really was._ + + KATIE + +That was it, mister, and I tell you it floored me. And then it come to +me, kind of as a new idea, that I'd best do something pretty soon, and +up the stairs I went quick. + +There she was, on the bed, with her eyes closed, and the gas just +beginning to get bad. + +As I come in, she jumped up, and stood staring at me. I went to the +tap, and turned the flow off, and then I gives her a look. + +'Now then,' I says. + +'How did you get here?' + +'Never mind how I got here. What have you got to say for yourself?' + +She just began to cry, same as she used to when she was a kid and +someone had hurt her. + +'Here,' I says, 'let's get along out of here, and go where there's some +air to breathe. Don't you take on so. You come along out and tell me +all about it.' + +She started to walk to where I was, and suddenly I seen she was +limping. So I gave her a hand down to my room, and set her on a chair. + +'Now then,' I says again. + +'Don't be angry with me, Uncle Bill,' she says. + +And she looks at me so pitiful that I goes up to her and puts my arm +round her and pats her on the back. + +'Don't you worry, dearie,' I says, 'nobody ain't going to be angry with +you. But, for goodness' sake,' I says, 'tell a man why in the name of +goodness you ever took and acted so foolish.' + +'I wanted to end it all.' + +'But why?' + +She burst out a-crying again, like a kid. + +'Didn't you read about it in the paper, Uncle Bill?' + +'Read about what in the paper?' + +'My accident. I broke my ankle at rehearsal ever so long ago, practising +my new dance. The doctors say it will never be right again. I shall +never be able to dance any more. I shall always limp. I shan't even be +able to walk properly. And when I thought of that ... and Andy ... and +everything ... I....' + +I got on to my feet. + +'Well, well, well,' I says. 'Well, well, well! I don't know as I blame +you. But don't you do it. It's a mug's game. Look here, if I leave you +alone for half an hour, you won't go trying it on again? Promise.' + +'Very well, Uncle Bill. Where are you going?' + +'Oh, just out. I'll be back soon. You sit there and rest yourself.' + +It didn't take me ten minutes to get to the restaurant in a cab. I +found Andy in the back room. + +'What's the matter, Henry?' he says. + +'Take a look at this,' I says. + +There's always this risk, mister, in being the Andy type of feller what +must have his own way and goes straight ahead and has it; and that is +that when trouble does come to him, it comes with a rush. It sometimes +seems to me that in this life we've all got to have trouble sooner or +later, and some of us gets it bit by bit, spread out thin, so to speak, +and a few of us gets it in a lump--_biff_! And that was what +happened to Andy, and what I knew was going to happen when I showed him +that letter. I nearly says to him, 'Brace up, young feller, because +this is where you get it.' + +I don't often go to the theatre, but when I do I like one of those +plays with some ginger in them which the papers generally cuss. The +papers say that real human beings don't carry on in that way. Take it +from me, mister, they do. I seen a feller on the stage read a letter +once which didn't just suit him; and he gasped and rolled his eyes and +tried to say something and couldn't, and had to get a hold on a chair +to keep him from falling. There was a piece in the paper saying that +this was all wrong, and that he wouldn't of done them things in real +life. Believe me, the paper was wrong. There wasn't a thing that feller +did that Andy didn't do when he read that letter. + +'God!' he says. 'Is she ... She isn't.... Were you in time?' he says. + +And he looks at me, and I seen that he had got it in the neck, right +enough. + +'If you mean is she dead,' I says, 'no, she ain't dead.' + +'Thank God!' + +'Not yet,' I says. + +And the next moment we was out of that room and in the cab and moving +quick. + +He was never much of a talker, wasn't Andy, and he didn't chat in that +cab. He didn't say a word till we was going up the stairs. + +'Where?' he says. + +'Here,' I says. + +And I opens the door. + +Katie was standing looking out of the window. She turned as the door +opened, and then she saw Andy. Her lips parted, as if she was going to +say something, but she didn't say nothing. And Andy, he didn't say +nothing, neither. He just looked, and she just looked. + +And then he sort of stumbles across the room, and goes down on his +knees, and gets his arms around her. + +'Oh, my kid' he says. + + * * * * * + +And I seen I wasn't wanted, so I shut the door, and I hopped it. I went +and saw the last half of a music-hall. But, I don't know, it didn't +kind of have no fascination for me. You've got to give your mind to it +to appreciate good music-hall turns. + + + + +ONE TOUCH OF NATURE + + +The feelings of Mr J. Wilmot Birdsey, as he stood wedged in the crowd +that moved inch by inch towards the gates of the Chelsea Football +Ground, rather resembled those of a starving man who has just been +given a meal but realizes that he is not likely to get another for many +days. He was full and happy. He bubbled over with the joy of living and +a warm affection for his fellow-man. At the back of his mind there +lurked the black shadow of future privations, but for the moment he did +not allow it to disturb him. On this maddest, merriest day of all the +glad New Year he was content to revel in the present and allow the +future to take care of itself. + +Mr Birdsey had been doing something which he had not done since he left +New York five years ago. He had been watching a game of baseball. + +New York lost a great baseball fan when Hugo Percy de Wynter +Framlinghame, sixth Earl of Carricksteed, married Mae Elinor, only +daughter of Mr and Mrs J. Wilmot Birdsey of East Seventy-Third Street; +for scarcely had that internationally important event taken place when +Mrs Birdsey, announcing that for the future the home would be in +England as near as possible to dear Mae and dear Hugo, scooped J. +Wilmot out of his comfortable morris chair as if he had been a clam, +corked him up in a swift taxicab, and decanted him into a Deck B +stateroom on the _Olympic_. And there he was, an exile. + +Mr Birdsey submitted to the worst bit of kidnapping since the days of +the old press gang with that delightful amiability which made him so +popular among his fellows and such a cypher in his home. At an early +date in his married life his position had been clearly defined beyond +possibility of mistake. It was his business to make money, and, when +called upon, to jump through hoops and sham dead at the bidding of his +wife and daughter Mae. These duties he had been performing +conscientiously for a matter of twenty years. + +It was only occasionally that his humble role jarred upon him, for he +loved his wife and idolized his daughter. The international alliance +had been one of these occasions. He had no objection to Hugo Percy, +sixth Earl of Carricksteed. The crushing blow had been the sentence of +exile. He loved baseball with a love passing the love of women, and the +prospect of never seeing a game again in his life appalled him. + +And then, one morning, like a voice from another world, had come the +news that the White Sox and the Giants were to give an exhibition in +London at the Chelsea Football Ground. He had counted the days like a +child before Christmas. + +There had been obstacles to overcome before he could attend the game, +but he had overcome them, and had been seated in the front row when the +two teams lined up before King George. + +And now he was moving slowly from the ground with the rest of the +spectators. Fate had been very good to him. It had given him a great +game, even unto two home-runs. But its crowning benevolence had been to +allot the seats on either side of him to two men of his own mettle, two +god-like beings who knew every move on the board, and howled like +wolves when they did not see eye to eye with the umpire. Long before +the ninth innings he was feeling towards them the affection of a +shipwrecked mariner who meets a couple of boyhood's chums on a desert +island. + +As he shouldered his way towards the gate he was aware of these two +men, one on either side of him. He looked at them fondly, trying to +make up his mind which of them he liked best. It was sad to think that +they must soon go out of his life again for ever. + +He came to a sudden resolution. He would postpone the parting. He would +ask them to dinner. Over the best that the Savoy Hotel could provide +they would fight the afternoon's battle over again. He did not know who +they were or anything about them, but what did that matter? They were +brother-fans. That was enough for him. + +The man on his right was young, clean-shaven, and of a somewhat +vulturine cast of countenance. His face was cold and impassive now, +almost forbiddingly so; but only half an hour before it had been a +battle-field of conflicting emotions, and his hat still showed the dent +where he had banged it against the edge of his seat on the occasion of +Mr Daly's home-run. A worthy guest! + +The man on Mr Birdsey's left belonged to another species of fan. Though +there had been times during the game when he had howled, for the most +part he had watched in silence so hungrily tense that a less +experienced observer than Mr Birdsey might have attributed his +immobility to boredom. But one glance at his set jaw and gleaming eyes +told him that here also was a man and a brother. + +This man's eyes were still gleaming, and under their curiously deep tan +his bearded cheeks were pale. He was staring straight in front of him +with an unseeing gaze. + +Mr Birdsey tapped the young man on the shoulder. + +'Some game!' he said. + +The young man looked at him and smiled. + +'You bet,' he said. + +'I haven't seen a ball-game in five years.' + +'The last one I saw was two years ago next June.' + +'Come and have some dinner at my hotel and talk it over,' said Mr +Birdsey impulsively. + +'Sure!' said the young man. + +Mr Birdsey turned and tapped the shoulder of the man on his left. + +The result was a little unexpected. The man gave a start that was +almost a leap, and the pallor of his face became a sickly white. His +eyes, as he swung round, met Mr Birdsey's for an instant before they +dropped, and there was panic fear in them. His breath whistled softly +through clenched teeth. + +Mr Birdsey was taken aback. The cordiality of the clean-shaven young +man had not prepared him for the possibility of such a reception. He +felt chilled. He was on the point of apologizing with some murmur about +a mistake, when the man reassured him by smiling. It was rather a +painful smile, but it was enough for Mr Birdsey. This man might be of a +nervous temperament, but his heart was in the right place. + +He, too, smiled. He was a small, stout, red-faced little man, and he +possessed a smile that rarely failed to set strangers at their ease. +Many strenuous years on the New York Stock Exchange had not destroyed a +certain childlike amiability in Mr Birdsey, and it shone out when he +smiled at you. + +'I'm afraid I startled you,' he said soothingly. 'I wanted to ask you +if you would let a perfect stranger, who also happens to be an exile, +offer you dinner tonight.' + +The man winced. 'Exile?' + +'An exiled fan. Don't you feel that the Polo Grounds are a good long +way away? This gentleman is joining me. I have a suite at the Savoy +Hotel, and I thought we might all have a quiet little dinner there and +talk about the game. I haven't seen a ball-game in five years.' + +'Nor have I.' + +'Then you must come. You really must. We fans ought to stick to one +another in a strange land. Do come.' + +'Thank you,' said the bearded man; 'I will.' + +When three men, all strangers, sit down to dinner together, +conversation, even if they happen to have a mutual passion for +baseball, is apt to be for a while a little difficult. The first fine +frenzy in which Mr Birdsey had issued his invitations had begun to ebb +by the time the soup was served, and he was conscious of a feeling of +embarrassment. + +There was some subtle hitch in the orderly progress of affairs. He +sensed it in the air. Both of his guests were disposed to silence, and +the clean-shaven young man had developed a trick of staring at the man +with the beard, which was obviously distressing that sensitive person. + +'Wine,' murmured Mr Birdsey to the waiter. 'Wine, wine!' + +He spoke with the earnestness of a general calling up his reserves for +the grand attack. The success of this little dinner mattered enormously +to him. There were circumstances which were going to make it an oasis +in his life. He wanted it to be an occasion to which, in grey days to +come, he could look back and be consoled. He could not let it be a +failure. + +He was about to speak when the young man anticipated him. Leaning +forward, he addressed the bearded man, who was crumbling bread with an +absent look in his eyes. + +'Surely we have met before?' he said. 'I'm sure I remember your face.' + +The effect of these words on the other was as curious as the effect of +Mr Birdsey's tap on the shoulder had been. He looked up like a hunted +animal. + +He shook his head without speaking. + +'Curious,' said the young man. 'I could have sworn to it, and I am +positive that it was somewhere in New York. Do you come from New York?' + +'Yes.' + +'It seems to me,' said Mr Birdsey, 'that we ought to introduce +ourselves. Funny it didn't strike any of us before. My name is Birdsey, +J. Wilmot Birdsey. I come from New York.' + +'My name is Waterall,' said the young man. 'I come from New York.' + +The bearded man hesitated. + +'My name is Johnson. I--used to live in New York.' + +'Where do you live now, Mr Johnson?' asked Waterall. + +The bearded man hesitated again. 'Algiers,' he said. + +Mr Birdsey was inspired to help matters along with small-talk. + +'Algiers,' he said. 'I have never been there, but I understand that it +is quite a place. Are you in business there, Mr Johnson?' + +'I live there for my health.' + +'Have you been there some time?' inquired Waterall. + +'Five years.' + +'Then it must have been in New York that I saw you, for I have never +been to Algiers, and I'm certain I have seen you somewhere. I'm afraid +you will think me a bore for sticking to the point like this, but the +fact is, the one thing I pride myself on is my memory for faces. It's a +hobby of mine. If I think I remember a face, and can't place it, I +worry myself into insomnia. It's partly sheer vanity, and partly +because in my job a good memory for faces is a mighty fine asset. It +has helped me a hundred times.' + +Mr Birdsey was an intelligent man, and he could see that Waterall's +table-talk was for some reason getting upon Johnson's nerves. Like a +good host, he endeavoured to cut in and make things smooth. + +'I've heard great accounts of Algiers,' he said helpfully. 'A friend of +mine was there in his yacht last year. It must be a delightful spot.' + +'It's a hell on earth,' snapped Johnson, and slew the conversation on +the spot. + +Through a grim silence an angel in human form fluttered in--a waiter +bearing a bottle. The pop of the cork was more than music to Mr +Birdsey's ears. It was the booming of the guns of the relieving army. + +The first glass, as first glasses will, thawed the bearded man, to the +extent of inducing him to try and pick up the fragments of the +conversation which he had shattered. + +'I am afraid you will have thought me abrupt, Mr Birdsey,' he said +awkwardly; 'but then you haven't lived in Algiers for five years, and I +have.' + +Mr Birdsey chirruped sympathetically. + +'I liked it at first. It looked mighty good to me. But five years of it, +and nothing else to look forward to till you die....' + +He stopped, and emptied his glass. Mr Birdsey was still perturbed. +True, conversation was proceeding in a sort of way, but it had taken a +distinctly gloomy turn. Slightly flushed with the excellent champagne +which he had selected for this important dinner, he endeavoured to +lighten it. + +'I wonder,' he said, 'which of us three fans had the greatest +difficulty in getting to the bleachers today. I guess none of us found +it too easy.' + +The young man shook his head. + +'Don't count on me to contribute a romantic story to this Arabian +Night's Entertainment. My difficulty would have been to stop away. My +name's Waterall, and I'm the London correspondent of the _New York +Chronicle_. I had to be there this afternoon in the way of +business.' + +Mr Birdsey giggled self-consciously, but not without a certain impish +pride. + +'The laugh will be on me when you hear my confession. My daughter +married an English earl, and my wife brought me over here to mix with +his crowd. There was a big dinner-party tonight, at which the whole +gang were to be present, and it was as much as my life was worth to +side-step it. But when you get the Giants and the White Sox playing +ball within fifty miles of you--Well, I packed a grip and sneaked out +the back way, and got to the station and caught the fast train to +London. And what is going on back there at this moment I don't like to +think. About now,' said Mr Birdsey, looking at his watch, 'I guess +they'll be pronging the _hors d'oeuvres_ and gazing at the empty +chair. It was a shame to do it, but, for the love of Mike, what else +could I have done?' + +He looked at the bearded man. + +'Did you have any adventures, Mr Johnson?' + +'No. I--I just came.' + +The young man Waterall leaned forward. His manner was quiet, but his +eyes were glittering. + +'Wasn't that enough of an adventure for you?' he said. + +Their eyes met across the table. Seated between them, Mr Birdsey looked +from one to the other, vaguely disturbed. Something was happening, a +drama was going on, and he had not the key to it. + +Johnson's face was pale, and the tablecloth crumpled into a crooked +ridge under his fingers, but his voice was steady as he replied: + +'I don't understand.' + +'Will you understand if I give you your right name, Mr Benyon?' + +'What's all this?' said Mr Birdsey feebly. + +Waterall turned to him, the vulturine cast of his face more noticeable +than ever. Mr Birdsey was conscious of a sudden distaste for this young +man. + +'It's quite simple, Mr Birdsey. If you have not been entertaining +angels unawares, you have at least been giving a dinner to a celebrity. +I told you I was sure I had seen this gentleman before. I have just +remembered where, and when. This is Mr John Benyon, and I last saw him +five years ago when I was a reporter in New York, and covered his +trial.' + +'His trial?' + +'He robbed the New Asiatic Bank of a hundred thousand dollars, jumped +his bail, and was never heard of again.' + +'For the love of Mike!' + +Mr Birdsey stared at his guest with eyes that grew momently wider. He +was amazed to find that deep down in him there was an unmistakable +feeling of elation. He had made up his mind, when he left home that +morning, that this was to be a day of days. Well, nobody could call +this an anti-climax. + +'So that's why you have been living in Algiers?' + +Benyon did not reply. Outside, the Strand traffic sent a faint murmur +into the warm, comfortable room. + +Waterall spoke. 'What on earth induced you, Benyon, to run the risk of +coming to London, where every second man you meet is a New Yorker, I +can't understand. The chances were two to one that you would be +recognized. You made a pretty big splash with that little affair of +yours five years ago.' + +Benyon raised his head. His hands were trembling. + +'I'll tell you,' he said with a kind of savage force, which hurt kindly +little Mr Birdsey like a blow. 'It was because I was a dead man, and +saw a chance of coming to life for a day; because I was sick of the +damned tomb I've been living in for five centuries; because I've been +aching for New York ever since I've left it--and here was a chance of +being back there for a few hours. I knew there was a risk. I took a +chance on it. Well?' + +Mr Birdsey's heart was almost too full for words. He had found him at +last, the Super-Fan, the man who would go through fire and water for a +sight of a game of baseball. Till that moment he had been regarding +himself as the nearest approach to that dizzy eminence. He had braved +great perils to see this game. Even in this moment his mind would not +wholly detach itself from speculation as to what his wife would say to +him when he slunk back into the fold. But what had he risked compared +with this man Benyon? Mr Birdsey glowed. He could not restrain his +sympathy and admiration. True, the man was a criminal. He had robbed a +bank of a hundred thousand dollars. But, after all, what was that? They +would probably have wasted the money in foolishness. And, anyway, a +bank which couldn't take care of its money deserved to lose it. + +Mr Birdsey felt almost a righteous glow of indignation against the New +Asiatic Bank. + +He broke the silence which had followed Benyon's words with a +peculiarly immoral remark: + +'Well, it's lucky it's only us that's recognized you,' he said. + +Waterall stared. 'Are you proposing that we should hush this thing up, +Mr Birdsey?' he said coldly. + +'Oh, well--' + +Waterall rose and went to the telephone. + +'What are you going to do?' + +'Call up Scotland Yard, of course. What did you think?' + +Undoubtedly the young man was doing his duty as a citizen, yet it is to +be recorded that Mr Birdsey eyed him with unmixed horror. + +'You can't! You mustn't!' he cried. + +'I certainly shall.' + +'But--but--this fellow came all that way to see the ball-game.' + +It seemed incredible to Mr Birdsey that this aspect of the affair +should not be the one to strike everybody to the exclusion of all other +aspects. + +'You can't give him up. It's too raw.' + +'He's a convicted criminal.' + +'He's a fan. Why, say, he's _the_ fan.' + +Waterall shrugged his shoulders, and walked to the telephone. Benyon +spoke. + +'One moment.' + +Waterall turned, and found himself looking into the muzzle of a small +pistol. He laughed. + +'I expected that. Wave it about all you want.' + +Benyon rested his shaking hand on the edge of the table. + +'I'll shoot if you move.' + +'You won't. You haven't the nerve. There's nothing to you. You're just +a cheap crook, and that's all. You wouldn't find the nerve to pull that +trigger in a million years.' + +He took off the receiver. + +'Give me Scotland Yard,' he said. + +He had turned his back to Benyon. Benyon sat motionless. Then, with a +thud, the pistol fell to the ground. The next moment Benyon had broken +down. His face was buried in his arms, and he was a wreck of a man, +sobbing like a hurt child. + +Mr Birdsey was profoundly distressed. He sat tingling and helpless. +This was a nightmare. + +Waterall's level voice spoke at the telephone. + +'Is this Scotland Yard? I am Waterall, of the _New York +Chronicle_. Is Inspector Jarvis there? Ask him to come to the +phone.... Is that you, Jarvis? This is Waterall. I'm speaking from the +Savoy, Mr Birdsey's rooms. Birdsey. Listen, Jarvis. There's a man here +that's wanted by the American police. Send someone here and get him. +Benyon. Robbed the New Asiatic Bank in New York. Yes, you've a warrant +out for him, five years old.... All right.' + +He hung up the receiver. Benyon sprang to his feet. He stood, shaking, +a pitiable sight. Mr Birdsey had risen with him. They stood looking at +Waterall. + +'You--skunk!' said Mr Birdsey. + +'I'm an American citizen,' said Waterall, 'and I happen to have some +idea of a citizen's duties. What is more, I'm a newspaper man, and I +have some idea of my duty to my paper. Call me what you like, you won't +alter that.' + +Mr Birdsey snorted. + +'You're suffering from ingrowing sentimentality, Mr Birdsey. That's +what's the matter with you. Just because this man has escaped justice +for five years, you think he ought to be considered quit of the whole +thing.' + +'But--but--' + +'I don't.' + +He took out his cigarette case. He was feeling a great deal more +strung-up and nervous than he would have had the others suspect. He had +had a moment of very swift thinking before he had decided to treat that +ugly little pistol in a spirit of contempt. Its production had given +him a decided shock, and now he was suffering from reaction. As a +consequence, because his nerves were strained, he lit his cigarette +very languidly, very carefully, and with an offensive superiority which +was to Mr Birdsey the last straw. + +These things are matters of an instant. Only an infinitesimal fraction +of time elapsed between the spectacle of Mr Birdsey, indignant but +inactive, and Mr Birdsey berserk, seeing red, frankly and undisguisedly +running amok. The transformation took place in the space of time +required for the lighting of a match. + +Even as the match gave out its flame, Mr Birdsey sprang. + +Aeons before, when the young blood ran swiftly in his veins and life +was all before him, Mr Birdsey had played football. Once a footballer, +always a potential footballer, even to the grave. Time had removed the +flying tackle as a factor in Mr Birdsey's life. Wrath brought it back. +He dived at young Mr Waterall's neatly trousered legs as he had dived +at other legs, less neatly trousered, thirty years ago. They crashed to +the floor together; and with the crash came Mr Birdsey's shout: + +'Run! Run, you fool! Run!' + +And, even as he clung to his man, breathless, bruised, feeling as if +all the world had dissolved in one vast explosion of dynamite, the door +opened, banged to, and feet fled down the passage. + +Mr Birdsey disentangled himself, and rose painfully. The shock had +brought him to himself. He was no longer berserk. He was a middle-aged +gentleman of high respectability who had been behaving in a very +peculiar way. + +Waterall, flushed and dishevelled, glared at him speechlessly. He +gulped. 'Are you crazy?' + +Mr Birdsey tested gingerly the mechanism of a leg which lay under +suspicion of being broken. Relieved, he put his foot to the ground +again. He shook his head at Waterall. He was slightly crumpled, but he +achieved a manner of dignified reproof. + +'You shouldn't have done it, young man. It was raw work. Oh, yes, I +know all about that duty-of-a-citizen stuff. It doesn't go. There are +exceptions to every rule, and this was one of them. When a man risks +his liberty to come and root at a ball-game, you've got to hand it to +him. He isn't a crook. He's a fan. And we exiled fans have got to stick +together.' + +Waterall was quivering with fury, disappointment, and the peculiar +unpleasantness of being treated by an elderly gentleman like a sack of +coals. He stammered with rage. + +'You damned old fool, do you realize what you've done? The police will +be here in another minute.' + +'Let them come.' + +'But what am I to say to them? What explanation can I give? What story +can I tell them? Can't you see what a hole you've put me in?' + +Something seemed to click inside Mr Birdsey's soul. It was the berserk +mood vanishing and reason leaping back on to her throne. He was able +now to think calmly, and what he thought about filled him with a sudden +gloom. + +'Young man,' he said, 'don't worry yourself. You've got a cinch. You've +only got to hand a story to the police. Any old tale will do for them. +I'm the man with the really difficult job--I've got to square myself +with my wife!' + + + + +BLACK FOR LUCK + + +He was black, but comely. Obviously in reduced circumstances, he had +nevertheless contrived to retain a certain smartness, a certain +air--what the French call the _tournure_. Nor had poverty killed +in him the aristocrat's instinct of personal cleanliness; for even as +Elizabeth caught sight of him he began to wash himself. + +At the sound of her step he looked up. He did not move, but there was +suspicion in his attitude. The muscles of his back contracted, his eyes +glowed like yellow lamps against black velvet, his tail switched a +little, warningly. + +Elizabeth looked at him. He looked at Elizabeth. There was a pause, +while he summed her up. Then he stalked towards her, and, suddenly +lowering his head, drove it vigorously against her dress. He permitted +her to pick him up and carry him into the hall-way, where Francis, the +janitor, stood. + +'Francis,' said Elizabeth, 'does this cat belong to anyone here?' + +'No, miss. That cat's a stray, that cat is. I been trying to locate +that cat's owner for days.' + +Francis spent his time trying to locate things. It was the one +recreation of his eventless life. Sometimes it was a noise, sometimes a +lost letter, sometimes a piece of ice which had gone astray in the +dumb-waiter--whatever it was, Francis tried to locate it. + +'Has he been round here long, then?' + +'I seen him snooping about a considerable time.' + +'I shall keep him.' + +'Black cats bring luck,' said Francis sententiously. + +'I certainly shan't object to that,' said Elizabeth. She was feeling +that morning that a little luck would be a pleasing novelty. Things had +not been going very well with her of late. It was not so much that the +usual proportion of her manuscripts had come back with editorial +compliments from the magazine to which they had been sent--she accepted +that as part of the game; what she did consider scurvy treatment at the +hands of fate was the fact that her own pet magazine, the one to which +she had been accustomed to fly for refuge, almost sure of a +welcome--when coldly treated by all the others--had suddenly expired +with a low gurgle for want of public support. It was like losing a kind +and open-handed relative, and it made the addition of a black cat to +the household almost a necessity. + +In her flat, the door closed, she watched her new ally with some +anxiety. He had behaved admirably on the journey upstairs, but she +would not have been surprised, though it would have pained her, if he +had now proceeded to try to escape through the ceiling. Cats were so +emotional. However, he remained calm, and, after padding silently about +the room for awhile, raised his head and uttered a crooning cry. + +'That's right,' said Elizabeth, cordially. 'If you don't see what you +want, ask for it. The place is yours.' + +She went to the ice-box, and produced milk and sardines. There was +nothing finicky or affected about her guest. He was a good trencherman, +and he did not care who knew it. He concentrated himself on the +restoration of his tissues with the purposeful air of one whose last +meal is a dim memory. Elizabeth, brooding over him like a Providence, +wrinkled her forehead in thought. + +'Joseph,' she said at last, brightening; 'that's your name. Now settle +down, and start being a mascot.' + +Joseph settled down amazingly. By the end of the second day he was +conveying the impression that he was the real owner of the apartment, +and that it was due to his good nature that Elizabeth was allowed the +run of the place. Like most of his species, he was an autocrat. He +waited a day to ascertain which was Elizabeth's favourite chair, then +appropriated it for his own. If Elizabeth closed a door while he was in +a room, he wanted it opened so that he might go out; if she closed it +while he was outside, he wanted it opened so that he might come in; if +she left it open, he fussed about the draught. But the best of us have +our faults, and Elizabeth adored him in spite of his. + +It was astonishing what a difference he made in her life. She was a +friendly soul, and until Joseph's arrival she had had to depend for +company mainly on the footsteps of the man in the flat across the way. +Moreover, the building was an old one, and it creaked at night. There +was a loose board in the passage which made burglar noises in the dark +behind you when you stepped on it on the way to bed; and there were +funny scratching sounds which made you jump and hold your breath. +Joseph soon put a stop to all that. With Joseph around, a loose board +became a loose board, nothing more, and a scratching noise just a plain +scratching noise. + +And then one afternoon he disappeared. + +Having searched the flat without finding him, Elizabeth went to the +window, with the intention of making a bird's-eye survey of the street. +She was not hopeful, for she had just come from the street, and there +had been no sign of him then. + +Outside the window was a broad ledge, running the width of the +building. It terminated on the left, in a shallow balcony belonging to +the flat whose front door faced hers--the flat of the young man whose +footsteps she sometimes heard. She knew he was a young man, because +Francis had told her so. His name, James Renshaw Boyd, she had learned +from the same source. + +On this shallow balcony, licking his fur with the tip of a crimson +tongue and generally behaving as if he were in his own backyard, sat +Joseph. + +'Jo-seph!' cried Elizabeth--surprise, joy, and reproach combining to +give her voice an almost melodramatic quiver. + +He looked at her coldly. Worse, he looked at her as if she had been an +utter stranger. Bulging with her meat and drink, he cut her dead; and, +having done so, turned and walked into the next flat. + +Elizabeth was a girl of spirit. Joseph might look at her as if she were +a saucerful of tainted milk, but he was her cat, and she meant to get +him back. She went out and rang the bell of Mr James Renshaw Boyd's +flat. + +The door was opened by a shirt-sleeved young man. He was by no means an +unsightly young man. Indeed, of his type--the rough-haired, +clean-shaven, square-jawed type--he was a distinctly good-looking young +man. Even though she was regarding him at the moment purely in the +light of a machine for returning strayed cats, Elizabeth noticed that. + +She smiled upon him. It was not the fault of this nice-looking young +man that his sitting-room window was open; or that Joseph was an +ungrateful little beast who should have no fish that night. + +'Would you mind letting me have my cat, please?' she said pleasantly. +'He has gone into your sitting-room through the window.' + +He looked faintly surprised. + +'Your cat?' + +'My black cat, Joseph. He is in your sitting-room.' + +'I'm afraid you have come to the wrong place. I've just left my +sitting-room, and the only cat there is my black cat, Reginald.' + +'But I saw Joseph go in only a minute ago.' + +'That was Reginald.' + +For the first time, as one who examining a fair shrub abruptly +discovers that it is a stinging-nettle, Elizabeth realized the truth. +This was no innocent young man who stood before her, but the blackest +criminal known to criminologists--a stealer of other people's cats. Her +manner shot down to zero. + +'May I ask how long you have had your Reginald?' + +'Since four o'clock this afternoon.' + +'Did he come in through the window?' + +'Why, yes. Now you mention it, he did.' + +'I must ask you to be good enough to give me back my cat,' said +Elizabeth, icily. + +He regarded her defensively. + +'Assuming,' he said, 'purely for the purposes of academic argument, +that your Joseph is my Reginald, couldn't we come to an agreement of +some sort? Let me buy you another cat. A dozen cats.' + +'I don't want a dozen cats. I want Joseph.' + +'Fine, fat, soft cats,' he went on persuasively. 'Lovely, affectionate +Persians and Angoras, and--' + +'Of course, if you intend to steal Joseph--' + +'These are harsh words. Any lawyer will tell you that there are special +statutes regarding cats. To retain a stray cat is not a tort or a +misdemeanour. In the celebrated test-case of Wiggins _v_. Bluebody +it was established--' + +'Will you please give me back my cat?' + +She stood facing him, her chin in the air and her eyes shining, and the +young man suddenly fell a victim to conscience. + +'Look here,' he said, 'I'll throw myself on your mercy. I admit the cat +is your cat, and that I have no right to it, and that I am just a +common sneak-thief. But consider. I had just come back from the first +rehearsal of my first play; and as I walked in at the door that cat +walked in at the window. I'm as superstitious as a coon, and I felt +that to give him up would be equivalent to killing the play before ever +it was produced. I know it will sound absurd to you. _You_ have no +idiotic superstitions. You are sane and practical. But, in the +circumstances, if you _could_ see your way to waiving your +rights--' + +Before the wistfulness of his eye Elizabeth capitulated. She felt quite +overcome by the revulsion of feeling which swept through her. How she +had misjudged him! She had taken him for an ordinary soulless purloiner +of cats, a snapper-up of cats at random and without reason; and all the +time he had been reluctantly compelled to the act by this deep and +praiseworthy motive. All the unselfishness and love of sacrifice innate +in good women stirred within her. + +'Why, of _course_ you mustn't let him go! It would mean awful bad +luck.' + +'But how about you--' + +'Never mind about me. Think of all the people who are dependent on your +play being a success.' + +The young man blinked. + +'This is overwhelming,' he said. + +'I had no notion why you wanted him. He was nothing to me--at least, +nothing much--that is to say--well, I suppose I was rather fond of +him--but he was not--not--' + +'Vital?' + +'That's just the word I wanted. He was just company, you know.' + +'Haven't you many friends?' + +'I haven't any friends.' + +'You haven't any friends! That settles it. You must take him back.' + +'I couldn't think of it.' + +'Of course you must take him back at once.' + +'I really couldn't.' + +'You must.' + +'I won't.' + +'But, good gracious, how do you suppose I should feel, knowing that you +were all alone and that I had sneaked your--your ewe lamb, as it were?' + +'And how do you suppose I should feel if your play failed simply for +lack of a black cat?' + +He started, and ran his fingers through his rough hair in an +overwrought manner. + +'Solomon couldn't have solved this problem,' he said. 'How would it +be--it seems the only possible way out--if you were to retain a sort of +managerial right in him? Couldn't you sometimes step across and chat +with him--and me, incidentally--over here? I'm very nearly as lonesome +as you are. Chicago is my home. I hardly know a soul in New York.' + +Her solitary life in the big city had forced upon Elizabeth the ability +to form instantaneous judgements on the men she met. She flashed a +glance at the young man and decided in his favour. + +'It's very kind of you,' she said. 'I should love to. I want to hear +all about your play. I write myself, you know, in a very small way, so +a successful playwright is Someone to me.' + +'I wish I were a successful playwright.' + +'Well, you are having the first play you have ever written produced on +Broadway. That's pretty wonderful.' + +''M--yes,' said the young man. It seemed to Elizabeth that he spoke +doubtfully, and this modesty consolidated the favourable impression she +had formed. + + * * * * * + +The gods are just. For every ill which they inflict they also supply a +compensation. It seems good to them that individuals in big cities +shall be lonely, but they have so arranged that, if one of these +individuals does at last contrive to seek out and form a friendship +with another, that friendship shall grow more swiftly than the tepid +acquaintanceships of those on whom the icy touch of loneliness has +never fallen. Within a week Elizabeth was feeling that she had known +this James Renshaw Boyd all her life. + +And yet there was a tantalizing incompleteness about his personal +reminiscences. Elizabeth was one of those persons who like to begin a +friendship with a full statement of their position, their previous +life, and the causes which led up to their being in this particular +spot at this particular time. At their next meeting, before he had had +time to say much on his own account, she had told him of her life in +the small Canadian town where she had passed the early part of her +life; of the rich and unexpected aunt who had sent her to college for +no particular reason that anyone could ascertain except that she +enjoyed being unexpected; of the legacy from this same aunt, far +smaller than might have been hoped for, but sufficient to send a +grateful Elizabeth to New York, to try her luck there; of editors, +magazines, manuscripts refused or accepted, plots for stories; of life +in general, as lived down where the Arch spans Fifth Avenue and the +lighted cross of the Judson shines by night on Washington Square. + +Ceasing eventually, she waited for him to begin; and he did not +begin--not, that is to say, in the sense the word conveyed to +Elizabeth. He spoke briefly of college, still more briefly of +Chicago--which city he appeared to regard with a distaste that made +Lot's attitude towards the Cities of the Plain almost kindly by +comparison. Then, as if he had fulfilled the demands of the most +exacting inquisitor in the matter of personal reminiscence, he began to +speak of the play. + +The only facts concerning him to which Elizabeth could really have +sworn with a clear conscience at the end of the second week of their +acquaintance were that he was very poor, and that this play meant +everything to him. + +The statement that it meant everything to him insinuated itself so +frequently into his conversation that it weighed on Elizabeth's mind +like a burden, and by degrees she found herself giving the play place +of honour in her thoughts over and above her own little ventures. With +this stupendous thing hanging in the balance, it seemed almost wicked +of her to devote a moment to wondering whether the editor of an evening +paper, who had half promised to give her the entrancing post of Adviser +to the Lovelorn on his journal, would fulfil that half-promise. + +At an early stage in their friendship the young man had told her the +plot of the piece; and if he had not unfortunately forgotten several +important episodes and had to leap back to them across a gulf of one or +two acts, and if he had referred to his characters by name instead of +by such descriptions as 'the fellow who's in love with the girl--not +what's-his-name but the other chap'--she would no doubt have got that +mental half-Nelson on it which is such a help towards the proper +understanding of a four-act comedy. As it was, his precis had left her +a little vague; but she said it was perfectly splendid, and he said did +she really think so. And she said yes, she did, and they were both +happy. + +Rehearsals seemed to prey on his spirits a good deal. He attended them +with the pathetic regularity of the young dramatist, but they appeared +to bring him little balm. Elizabeth generally found him steeped in +gloom, and then she would postpone the recital, to which she had been +looking forward, of whatever little triumph she might have happened to +win, and devote herself to the task of cheering him up. If women were +wonderful in no other way, they would be wonderful for their genius for +listening to shop instead of talking it. + +Elizabeth was feeling more than a little proud of the way in which her +judgement of this young man was being justified. Life in Bohemian New +York had left her decidedly wary of strange young men, not formally +introduced; her faith in human nature had had to undergo much +straining. Wolves in sheep's clothing were common objects of the +wayside in her unprotected life; and perhaps her chief reason for +appreciating this friendship was the feeling of safety which it gave +her. + +Their relations, she told herself, were so splendidly unsentimental. +There was no need for that silent defensiveness which had come to seem +almost an inevitable accompaniment to dealings with the opposite sex. +James Boyd, she felt, she could trust; and it was wonderful how +soothing the reflexion was. + +And that was why, when the thing happened, it so shocked and frightened +her. + +It had been one of their quiet evenings. Of late they had fallen into +the habit of sitting for long periods together without speaking. But it +had differed from other quiet evenings through the fact that +Elizabeth's silence hid a slight but well-defined feeling of injury. +Usually she sat happy with her thoughts, but tonight she was ruffled. +She had a grievance. + +That afternoon the editor of the evening paper, whose angelic status +not even a bald head and an absence of wings and harp could conceal, +had definitely informed her that the man who had conducted the column +hitherto having resigned, the post of Heloise Milton, official adviser +to readers troubled with affairs of the heart, was hers; and he looked +to her to justify the daring experiment of letting a woman handle so +responsible a job. Imagine how Napoleon felt after Austerlitz, picture +Colonel Goethale contemplating the last spadeful of dirt from the +Panama Canal, try to visualize a suburban householder who sees a flower +emerging from the soil in which he has inserted a packet of guaranteed +seeds, and you will have some faint conception how Elizabeth felt as +those golden words proceeded from that editor's lips. For the moment +Ambition was sated. The years, rolling by, might perchance open out +other vistas; but for the moment she was content. + +Into James Boyd's apartment she had walked, stepping on fleecy clouds +of rapture, to tell him the great news. + +She told him the great news. + +He said, 'Ah!' + +There are many ways of saying 'Ah!' You can put joy, amazement, rapture +into it; you can also make it sound as if it were a reply to a remark +on the weather. James Boyd made it sound just like that. His hair was +rumpled, his brow contracted, and his manner absent. The impression he +gave Elizabeth was that he had barely heard her. The next moment he was +deep in a recital of the misdemeanours of the actors now rehearsing for +his four-act comedy. The star had done this, the leading woman that, +the juvenile something else. For the first time Elizabeth listened +unsympathetically. + +The time came when speech failed James Boyd, and he sat back in his +chair, brooding. Elizabeth, cross and wounded, sat in hers, nursing +Joseph. And so, in a dim light, time flowed by. + +Just how it happened she never knew. One moment, peace; the next chaos. +One moment stillness; the next, Joseph hurtling through the air, all +claws and expletives, and herself caught in a clasp which shook the +breath from her. + +One can dimly reconstruct James's train of thought. He is in despair; +things are going badly at the theatre, and life has lost its savour. +His eye, as he sits, is caught by Elizabeth's profile. It is a +pretty--above all, a soothing--profile. An almost painful +sentimentality sweeps over James Boyd. There she sits, his only friend +in this cruel city. If you argue that there is no necessity to spring +at your only friend and nearly choke her, you argue soundly; the point +is well taken. But James Boyd was beyond the reach of sound argument. +Much rehearsing had frayed his nerves to ribbons. One may say that he +was not responsible for his actions. + +That is the case for James. Elizabeth, naturally, was not in a position +to take a wide and understanding view of it. All she knew was that James +had played her false, abused her trust in him. For a moment, such was +the shock of the surprise, she was not conscious of indignation--or, +indeed, of any sensation except the purely physical one of +semi-strangulation. Then, flushed, and more bitterly angry than she +could ever have imagined herself capable of being, she began to +struggle. She tore herself away from him. Coming on top of her +grievance, this thing filled her with a sudden, very vivid hatred of +James. At the back of her anger, feeding it, was the humiliating +thought that it was all her own fault, that by her presence there she +had invited this. + +She groped her way to the door. Something was writhing and struggling +inside her, blinding her eyes, and robbing her of speech. She was only +conscious of a desire to be alone, to be back and safe in her own home. +She was aware that he was speaking, but the words did not reach her. +She found the door, and pulled it open. She felt a hand on her arm, but +she shook it off. And then she was back behind her own door, alone and +at liberty to contemplate at leisure the ruins of that little temple of +friendship which she had built up so carefully and in which she had +been so happy. + +The broad fact that she would never forgive him was for a while her +only coherent thought. To this succeeded the determination that she +would never forgive herself. And having thus placed beyond the pale the +only two friends she had in New York, she was free to devote herself +without hindrance to the task of feeling thoroughly lonely and +wretched. + +The shadows deepened. Across the street a sort of bubbling explosion, +followed by a jerky glare that shot athwart the room, announced the +lighting of the big arc-lamp on the opposite side-walk. She resented +it, being in the mood for undiluted gloom; but she had not the energy +to pull down the shade and shut it out. She sat where she was, thinking +thoughts that hurt. + +The door of the apartment opposite opened. There was a single ring at +her bell. She did not answer it. There came another. She sat where she +was, motionless. The door closed again. + + * * * * * + +The days dragged by. Elizabeth lost count of time. Each day had its +duties, which ended when you went to bed; that was all she knew--except +that life had become very grey and very lonely, far lonelier even than +in the time when James Boyd was nothing to her but an occasional sound +of footsteps. + +Of James she saw nothing. It is not difficult to avoid anyone in New +York, even when you live just across the way. + + * * * * * + +It was Elizabeth's first act each morning, immediately on awaking, to +open her front door and gather in whatever lay outside it. Sometimes +there would be mail; and always, unless Francis, as he sometimes did, +got mixed and absent-minded, the morning milk and the morning paper. + +One morning, some two weeks after that evening of which she tried not +to think, Elizabeth, opening the door, found immediately outside it a +folded scrap of paper. She unfolded it. + + _I am just off to the theatre. Won't you wish me luck? I feel sure + it is going to be a hit. Joseph is purring like a dynamo._--J.R.B. + +In the early morning the brain works sluggishly. For an instant +Elizabeth stood looking at the words uncomprehendingly; then, with a +leaping of the heart, their meaning came home to her. He must have left +this at her door on the previous night. The play had been produced! And +somewhere in the folded interior of the morning paper at her feet must +be the opinion of 'One in Authority' concerning it! + +Dramatic criticisms have this peculiarity, that if you are looking for +them, they burrow and hide like rabbits. They dodge behind murders; +they duck behind baseball scores; they lie up snugly behind the Wall +Street news. It was a full minute before Elizabeth found what she +sought, and the first words she read smote her like a blow. + +In that vein of delightful facetiousness which so endears him to all +followers and perpetrators of the drama, the 'One in Authority' rent +and tore James Boyd's play. He knocked James Boyd's play down, and +kicked it; he jumped on it with large feet; he poured cold water on it, +and chopped it into little bits. He merrily disembowelled James Boyd's +play. + +Elizabeth quivered from head to foot. She caught at the door-post to +steady herself. In a flash all her resentment had gone, wiped away and +annihilated like a mist before the sun. She loved him, and she knew now +that she had always loved him. + +It took her two seconds to realize that the 'One in Authority' was a +miserable incompetent, incapable of recognizing merit when it was +displayed before him. It took her five minutes to dress. It took her a +minute to run downstairs and out to the news-stand on the corner of the +street. Here, with a lavishness which charmed and exhilarated the +proprietor, she bought all the other papers which he could supply. + +Moments of tragedy are best described briefly. Each of the papers +noticed the play, and each of them damned it with uncompromising +heartiness. The criticisms varied only in tone. One cursed with relish +and gusto; another with a certain pity; a third with a kind of wounded +superiority, as of one compelled against his will to speak of something +unspeakable; but the meaning of all was the same. James Boyd's play was +a hideous failure. + +Back to the house sped Elizabeth, leaving the organs of a free people +to be gathered up, smoothed, and replaced on the stand by the now more +than ever charmed proprietor. Up the stairs she sped, and arriving +breathlessly at James's door rang the bell. + +Heavy footsteps came down the passage; crushed, disheartened footsteps; +footsteps that sent a chill to Elizabeth's heart. The door opened. +James Boyd stood before her, heavy-eyed and haggard. In his eyes was +despair, and on his chin the blue growth of beard of the man from whom +the mailed fist of Fate has smitten the energy to perform his morning +shave. + +Behind him, littering the floor, were the morning papers; and at the +sight of them Elizabeth broke down. + +'Oh, Jimmy, darling!' she cried; and the next moment she was in his +arms, and for a space time stood still. + +How long afterwards it was she never knew; but eventually James Boyd +spoke. + +'If you'll marry me,' he said hoarsely, 'I don't care a hang.' + +'Jimmy, darling!' said Elizabeth, 'of course I will.' + +Past them, as they stood there, a black streak shot silently, and +disappeared out of the door. Joseph was leaving the sinking ship. + +'Let him go, the fraud,' said Elizabeth bitterly. 'I shall never +believe in black cats again.' + +But James was not of this opinion. + +'Joseph has brought me all the luck I need.' + +'But the play meant everything to you.' + +'It did then.' + +Elizabeth hesitated. + +'Jimmy, dear, it's all right, you know. I know you will make a fortune +out of your next play, and I've heaps for us both to live on till you +make good. We can manage splendidly on my salary from the _Evening +Chronicle_.' + +'What! Have you got a job on a New York paper?' + +'Yes, I told you about it. I am doing Heloise Milton. Why, what's the +matter?' + +He groaned hollowly. + +'And I was thinking that you would come back to Chicago with me!' + +'But I will. Of course I will. What did you think I meant to do?' + +'What! Give up a real job in New York!' He blinked. 'This isn't really +happening. I'm dreaming.' + +'But, Jimmy, are you sure you can get work in Chicago? Wouldn't it be +better to stay on here, where all the managers are, and--' + +He shook his head. + +'I think it's time I told you about myself,' he said. 'Am I sure I can +get work in Chicago? I am, worse luck. Darling, have you in your more +material moments ever toyed with a Boyd's Premier Breakfast-Sausage or +kept body and soul together with a slice off a Boyd's Excelsior +Home-Cured Ham? My father makes them, and the tragedy of my life is +that he wants me to help him at it. This was my position. I loathed the +family business as much as dad loved it. I had a notion--a fool notion, +as it has turned out--that I could make good in the literary line. I've +scribbled in a sort of way ever since I was in college. When the time +came for me to join the firm, I put it to dad straight. I said, "Give +me a chance, one good, square chance, to see if the divine fire is +really there, or if somebody has just turned on the alarm as a +practical joke." And we made a bargain. I had written this play, and we +made it a test-case. We fixed it up that dad should put up the money to +give it a Broadway production. If it succeeded, all right; I'm the +young Gus Thomas, and may go ahead in the literary game. If it's a +fizzle, off goes my coat, and I abandon pipe-dreams of literary +triumphs and start in as the guy who put the Co. in Boyd & Co. Well, +events have proved that I _am_ the guy, and now I'm going to keep +my part of the bargain just as squarely as dad kept his. I know quite +well that if I refused to play fair and chose to stick on here in New +York and try again, dad would go on staking me. That's the sort of man +he is. But I wouldn't do it for a million Broadway successes. I've had +my chance, and I've foozled; and now I'm going back to make him happy +by being a real live member of the firm. And the queer thing about it +is that last night I hated the idea, and this morning, now that I've +got you, I almost look forward to it.' + +He gave a little shiver. + +'And yet--I don't know. There's something rather gruesome still to my +near-artist soul in living in luxury on murdered piggies. Have you ever +seen them persuading a pig to play the stellar role in a Boyd Premier +Breakfast-Sausage? It's pretty ghastly. They string them up by their +hind legs, and--b-r-r-r-r!' + +'Never mind,' said Elizabeth soothingly. 'Perhaps they don't mind it +really.' + +'Well, I don't know,' said James Boyd, doubtfully. 'I've watched them +at it, and I'm bound to say they didn't seem any too well pleased.' + +'Try not to think of it.' + +'Very well,' said James dutifully. + +There came a sudden shout from the floor above, and on the heels of it +a shock-haired youth in pyjamas burst into the apartment. + +'Now what?' said James. 'By the way, Miss Herrold, my fiancee; Mr +Briggs--Paul Axworthy Briggs, sometimes known as the Boy Novelist. +What's troubling you, Paul?' + +Mr Briggs was stammering with excitement. + +'Jimmy,' cried the Boy Novelist, 'what do you think has happened! A +black cat has just come into my apartment. I heard him mewing outside +the door, and opened it, and he streaked in. And I started my new novel +last night! Say, you _do_ believe this thing of black cats +bringing luck, don't you?' + +'Luck! My lad, grapple that cat to your soul with hoops of steel. He's +the greatest little luck-bringer in New York. He was boarding with me +till this morning.' + +'Then--by Jove! I nearly forgot to ask--your play was a hit? I haven't +seen the papers yet' + +'Well, when you see them, don't read the notices. It was the worst +frost Broadway has seen since Columbus's time.' + +'But--I don't understand.' + +'Don't worry. You don't have to. Go back and fill that cat with fish, +or she'll be leaving you. I suppose you left the door open?' + +'My God!' said the Boy Novelist, paling, and dashed for the door. + +'Do you think Joseph _will_ bring him luck?' said Elizabeth, +thoughtfully. + +'It depends what sort of luck you mean. Joseph seems to work in devious +ways. If I know Joseph's methods, Briggs's new novel will be rejected +by every publisher in the city; and then, when he is sitting in his +apartment, wondering which of his razors to end himself with, there +will be a ring at the bell, and in will come the most beautiful girl in +the world, and then--well, then, take it from me, he will be all +right.' + +'He won't mind about the novel?' + +'Not in the least.' + +'Not even if it means that he will have to go away and kill pigs and +things.' + +'About the pig business, dear. I've noticed a slight tendency in you to +let yourself get rather morbid about it. I know they string them up by +the hind-legs, and all that sort of thing; but you must remember that a +pig looks at these things from a different standpoint. My belief is +that the pigs like it. Try not to think of it.' + +'Very well,' said Elizabeth, dutifully. + + + + +THE ROMANCE OF AN UGLY POLICEMAN + + +Crossing the Thames by Chelsea Bridge, the wanderer through London +finds himself in pleasant Battersea. Rounding the Park, where the +female of the species wanders with its young by the ornamental water +where the wild-fowl are, he comes upon a vast road. One side of this is +given up to Nature, the other to Intellect. On the right, green trees +stretch into the middle distance; on the left, endless blocks of +residential flats. It is Battersea Park Road, the home of the +cliff-dwellers. + +Police-constable Plimmer's beat embraced the first quarter of a mile of +the cliffs. It was his duty to pace in the measured fashion of the +London policeman along the front of them, turn to the right, turn to +the left, and come back along the road which ran behind them. In this +way he was enabled to keep the king's peace over no fewer than four +blocks of mansions. + +It did not require a deal of keeping. Battersea may have its tough +citizens, but they do not live in Battersea Park Road. Battersea Park +Road's speciality is Brain, not Crime. Authors, musicians, newspaper +men, actors, and artists are the inhabitants of these mansions. A child +could control them. They assault and batter nothing but pianos; they +steal nothing but ideas; they murder nobody except Chopin and +Beethoven. Not through these shall an ambitious young constable achieve +promotion. + +At this conclusion Edward Plimmer arrived within forty-eight hours of +his installation. He recognized the flats for what they were--just so +many layers of big-brained blamelessness. And there was not even the +chance of a burglary. No burglar wastes his time burgling authors. +Constable Plimmer reconciled his mind to the fact that his term in +Battersea must be looked on as something in the nature of a vacation. + +He was not altogether sorry. At first, indeed, he found the new +atmosphere soothing. His last beat had been in the heart of tempestuous +Whitechapel, where his arms had ached from the incessant hauling of +wiry inebriates to the station, and his shins had revolted at the kicks +showered upon them by haughty spirits impatient of restraint. Also, one +Saturday night, three friends of a gentleman whom he was trying to +induce not to murder his wife had so wrought upon him that, when he +came out of hospital, his already homely appearance was further marred +by a nose which resembled the gnarled root of a tree. All these things +had taken from the charm of Whitechapel, and the cloistral peace of +Battersea Park Road was grateful and comforting. + +And just when the unbroken calm had begun to lose its attraction and +dreams of action were once more troubling him, a new interest entered +his life; and with its coming he ceased to wish to be removed from +Battersea. He fell in love. + +It happened at the back of York Mansions. Anything that ever happened, +happened there; for it is at the back of these blocks of flats that the +real life is. At the front you never see anything, except an occasional +tousle-headed young man smoking a pipe; but at the back, where the +cooks come out to parley with the tradesmen, there is at certain hours +of the day quite a respectable activity. Pointed dialogues about +yesterday's eggs and the toughness of Saturday's meat are conducted +_fortissimo_ between cheerful youths in the road and satirical +young women in print dresses, who come out of their kitchen doors on to +little balconies. The whole thing has a pleasing Romeo and Juliet +touch. Romeo rattles up in his cart. 'Sixty-four!' he cries. +'Sixty-fower, sixty-fower, sixty-fow--' The kitchen door opens, and +Juliet emerges. She eyes Romeo without any great show of affection. +'Are you Perkins and Blissett?' she inquires coldly. Romeo admits it. +'Two of them yesterday's eggs was bad.' Romeo protests. He defends his +eggs. They were fresh from the hen; he stood over her while she laid +them. Juliet listens frigidly. 'I _don't_ think,' she says. 'Well, +half of sugar, one marmalade, and two of breakfast bacon,' she adds, +and ends the argument. There is a rattling as of a steamer weighing +anchor; the goods go up in the tradesman's lift; Juliet collects them, +and exits, banging the door. The little drama is over. + +Such is life at the back of York Mansions--a busy, throbbing thing. + +The peace of afternoon had fallen upon the world one day towards the +end of Constable Plimmer's second week of the simple life, when his +attention was attracted by a whistle. It was followed by a musical +'Hi!' + +Constable Plimmer looked up. On the kitchen balcony of a second-floor +flat a girl was standing. As he took her in with a slow and exhaustive +gaze, he was aware of strange thrills. There was something about this +girl which excited Constable Plimmer. I do not say that she was a +beauty; I do not claim that you or I would have raved about her; I +merely say that Constable Plimmer thought she was All Right. + +'Miss?' he said. + +'Got the time about you?' said the girl. 'All the clocks have stopped.' + +'The time,' said Constable Plimmer, consulting his watch, 'wants +exactly ten minutes to four.' + +'Thanks.' + +'Not at all, miss.' + +The girl was inclined for conversation. It was that gracious hour of +the day when you have cleared lunch and haven't got to think of dinner +yet, and have a bit of time to draw a breath or two. She leaned over +the balcony and smiled pleasantly. + +'If you want to know the time, ask a pleeceman,' she said. 'You been on +this beat long?' + +'Just short of two weeks, miss.' + +'I been here three days.' + +'I hope you like it, miss.' + +'So-so. The milkman's a nice boy.' + +Constable Plimmer did not reply. He was busy silently hating the +milkman. He knew him--one of those good-looking blighters; one of those +oiled and curled perishers; one of those blooming fascinators who go +about the world making things hard for ugly, honest men with loving +hearts. Oh, yes, he knew the milkman. + +'He's a rare one with his jokes,' said the girl. + +Constable Plimmer went on not replying. He was perfectly aware that the +milkman was a rare one with his jokes. He had heard him. The way girls +fell for anyone with the gift of the gab--that was what embittered +Constable Plimmer. + +'He--' she giggled. 'He calls me Little Pansy-Face.' + +'If you'll excuse me, miss,' said Constable Plimmer coldly, 'I'll have +to be getting along on my beat.' + +Little Pansy-Face! And you couldn't arrest him for it! What a world! +Constable Plimmer paced upon his way, a blue-clad volcano. + +It is a terrible thing to be obsessed by a milkman. To Constable +Plimmer's disordered imagination it seemed that, dating from this +interview, the world became one solid milkman. Wherever he went, he +seemed to run into this milkman. If he was in the front road, this +milkman--Alf Brooks, it appeared, was his loathsome name--came rattling +past with his jingling cans as if he were Apollo driving his chariot. +If he was round at the back, there was Alf, his damned tenor doing +duets with the balconies. And all this in defiance of the known law of +natural history that milkmen do not come out after five in the morning. +This irritated Constable Plimmer. You talk of a man 'going home with +the milk' when you mean that he sneaks in in the small hours of the +morning. If all milkmen were like Alf Brooks the phrase was +meaningless. + +He brooded. The unfairness of Fate was souring him. A man expects +trouble in his affairs of the heart from soldiers and sailors, and to +be cut out by even a postman is to fall before a worthy foe; but +milkmen--no! Only grocers' assistants and telegraph-boys were intended +by Providence to fear milkmen. + +Yet here was Alf Brooks, contrary to all rules, the established pet of +the mansions. Bright eyes shone from balconies when his 'Milk--oo--oo' +sounded. Golden voices giggled delightedly at his bellowed chaff. And +Ellen Brown, whom he called Little Pansy-Face, was definitely in love +with him. + +They were keeping company. They were walking out. This crushing truth +Edward Plimmer learned from Ellen herself. + +She had slipped out to mail a letter at the pillar-box on the corner, +and she reached it just as the policeman arrived there in the course of +his patrol. + +Nervousness impelled Constable Plimmer to be arch. + +''Ullo, 'ullo, 'ullo,' he said. 'Posting love-letters?' + +'What, me? This is to the Police Commissioner, telling him you're no +good.' + +'I'll give it to him. Him and me are taking supper tonight.' + +Nature had never intended Constable Plimmer to be playful. He was at +his worst when he rollicked. He snatched at the letter with what was +meant to be a debonair gaiety, and only succeeded in looking like an +angry gorilla. The girl uttered a startled squeak. + +The letter was addressed to Mr A. Brooks. + +Playfulness, after this, was at a discount. The girl was frightened and +angry, and he was scowling with mingled jealousy and dismay. + +'Ho!' he said. 'Ho! Mr A. Brooks!' + +Ellen Brown was a nice girl, but she had a temper, and there were +moments when her manners lacked rather noticeably the repose which +stamps the caste of Vere de Vere. + +'Well, what about it?' she cried. 'Can't one write to the young +gentleman one's keeping company with, without having to get permission +from every--' She paused to marshal her forces from the assault. +'Without having to get permission from every great, ugly, red-faced +copper with big feet and a broken nose in London?' + +Constable Plimmer's wrath faded into a dull unhappiness. Yes, she was +right. That was the correct description. That was how an impartial +Scotland Yard would be compelled to describe him, if ever he got lost. +'Missing. A great, ugly, red-faced copper with big feet and a broken +nose.' They would never find him otherwise. + +'Perhaps you object to my walking out with Alf? Perhaps you've got +something against him? I suppose you're jealous!' + +She threw in the last suggestion entirely in a sporting spirit. She +loved battle, and she had a feeling that this one was going to finish +far too quickly. To prolong it, she gave him this opening. There were a +dozen ways in which he might answer, each more insulting than the last; +and then, when he had finished, she could begin again. These little +encounters, she held, sharpened the wits, stimulated the circulation, +and kept one out in the open air. + +'Yes,' said Constable Plimmer. + +It was the one reply she was not expecting. For direct abuse, for +sarcasm, for dignity, for almost any speech beginning, 'What! Jealous +of you. Why--' she was prepared. But this was incredible. It disabled +her, as the wild thrust of an unskilled fencer will disable a master of +the rapier. She searched in her mind and found that she had nothing to +say. + +There was a tense moment in which she found him, looking her in the +eyes, strangely less ugly than she had supposed, and then he was gone, +rolling along on his beat with that air which all policemen must +achieve, of having no feelings at all, and--as long as it behaves +itself--no interest in the human race. + +Ellen posted her letter. She dropped it into the box thoughtfully, and +thoughtfully returned to the flat. She looked over her shoulder, but +Constable Plimmer was out of sight. + +Peaceful Battersea began to vex Constable Plimmer. To a man crossed in +love, action is the one anodyne; and Battersea gave no scope for +action. He dreamed now of the old Whitechapel days as a man dreams of +the joys of his childhood. He reflected bitterly that a fellow never +knows when he is well off in this world. Any one of those myriad drunk +and disorderlies would have been as balm to him now. He was like a man +who has run through a fortune and in poverty eats the bread of regret. +Amazedly he recollected that in those happy days he had grumbled at his +lot. He remembered confiding to a friend in the station-house, as he +rubbed with liniment the spot on his right shin where the well-shod +foot of a joyous costermonger had got home, that this sort of +thing--meaning militant costermongers--was 'a bit too thick'. A bit too +thick! Why, he would pay one to kick him now. And as for the three +loyal friends of the would-be wife-murderer who had broken his nose, if +he saw them coming round the corner he would welcome them as brothers. + +And Battersea Park Road dozed on--calm, intellectual, law-abiding. + +A friend of his told him that there had once been a murder in one of +these flats. He did not believe it. If any of these white-corpuscled +clams ever swatted a fly, it was much as they could do. The thing was +ridiculous on the face of it. If they were capable of murder, they +would have murdered Alf Brooks. + +He stood in the road, and looked up at the placid buildings +resentfully. + +'Grr-rr-rr!' he growled, and kicked the side-walk. + +And, even as he spoke, on the balcony of a second-floor flat there +appeared a woman, an elderly, sharp-faced woman, who waved her arms and +screamed, 'Policeman! Officer! Come up here! Come up here at once!' + +Up the stone stairs went Constable Plimmer at the run. His mind was +alert and questioning. Murder? Hardly murder, perhaps. If it had been +that, the woman would have said so. She did not look the sort of woman +who would be reticent about a thing like that. Well, anyway, it was +something; and Edward Plimmer had been long enough in Battersea to be +thankful for small favours. An intoxicated husband would be better than +nothing. At least he would be something that a fellow could get his +hands on to and throw about a bit. + +The sharp-faced woman was waiting for him at the door. He followed her +into the flat. + +'What is it, ma'am?' + +'Theft! Our cook has been stealing!' + +She seemed sufficiently excited about it, but Constable Plimmer felt +only depression and disappointment. A stout admirer of the sex, he +hated arresting women. Moreover, to a man in the mood to tackle +anarchists with bombs, to be confronted with petty theft is galling. +But duty was duty. He produced his notebook. + +'She is in her room. I locked her in. I know she has taken my brooch. +We have missed money. You must search her.' + +'Can't do that, ma'am. Female searcher at the station.' + +'Well, you can search her box.' + +A little, bald, nervous man in spectacles appeared as if out of a trap. +As a matter of fact, he had been there all the time, standing by the +bookcase; but he was one of those men you do not notice till they move +and speak. + +'Er--Jane.' + +'Well, Henry?' + +The little man seemed to swallow something. + +'I--I think that you may possibly be wronging Ellen. It is just +possible, as regards the money--' He smiled in a ghastly manner and +turned to the policeman. 'Er--officer, I ought to tell you that my +wife--ah--holds the purse-strings of our little home; and it is just +possible that in an absent-minded moment _I_ may have--' + +'Do you mean to tell me, Henry, that _you_ have been taking my +money?' + +'My dear, it is just possible that in the abs--' + +'How often?' + +He wavered perceptibly. Conscience was beginning to lose its grip. + +'Oh, not often.' + +'How often? More than once?' + +Conscience had shot its bolt. The little man gave up the Struggle. + +'No, no, not more than once. Certainly not more than once.' + +'You ought not to have done it at all. We will talk about that later. +It doesn't alter the fact that Ellen is a thief. I have missed money +half a dozen times. Besides that, there's the brooch. Step this way, +officer.' + +Constable Plimmer stepped that way--his face a mask. He knew who was +waiting for them behind the locked door at the end of the passage. But +it was his duty to look as if he were stuffed, and he did so. + + * * * * * + +She was sitting on her bed, dressed for the street. It was her +afternoon out, the sharp-faced woman had informed Constable Plimmer, +attributing the fact that she had discovered the loss of the brooch in +time to stop her a direct interposition of Providence. She was pale, +and there was a hunted look in her eyes. + +'You wicked girl, where is my brooch?' + +She held it out without a word. She had been holding it in her hand. + +'You see, officer!' + +'I wasn't stealing of it. I 'adn't but borrowed it. I was going to put +it back.' + +'Stuff and nonsense! Borrow it, indeed! What for?' + +'I--I wanted to look nice.' + +The woman gave a short laugh. Constable Plimmer's face was a mere block +of wood, expressionless. + +'And what about the money I've been missing? I suppose you'll say you +only borrowed that?' + +'I never took no money.' + +'Well, it's gone, and money doesn't go by itself. Take her to the +police-station, officer.' + +Constable Plimmer raised heavy eyes. + +'You make a charge, ma'am?' + +'Bless the man! Of course I make a charge. What did you think I asked +you to step in for?' + +'Will you come along, miss?' said Constable Plimmer. + + * * * * * + +Out in the street the sun shone gaily down on peaceful Battersea. It +was the hour when children walk abroad with their nurses; and from the +green depths of the Park came the sound of happy voices. A cat +stretched itself in the sunshine and eyed the two as they passed with +lazy content. + +They walked in silence. Constable Plimmer was a man with a rigid sense +of what was and what was not fitting behaviour in a policeman on duty: +he aimed always at a machine-like impersonality. There were times when +it came hard, but he did his best. He strode on, his chin up and his +eyes averted. And beside him-- + +Well, she was not crying. That was something. + +Round the corner, beautiful in light flannel, gay at both ends with a +new straw hat and the yellowest shoes in South-West London, scented, +curled, a prince among young men, stood Alf Brooks. He was feeling +piqued. When he said three o'clock, he meant three o'clock. It was now +three-fifteen, and she had not appeared. Alf Brooks swore an impatient +oath, and the thought crossed his mind, as it had sometimes crossed it +before, that Ellen Brown was not the only girl in the world. + +'Give her another five min--' + +Ellen Brown, with escort, at that moment turned the corner. + +Rage was the first emotion which the spectacle aroused in Alf Brooks. +Girls who kept a fellow waiting about while they fooled around with +policemen were no girls for him. They could understand once and for all +that he was a man who could pick and choose. + +And then an electric shock set the world dancing mistily before his +eyes. This policeman was wearing his belt; he was on duty. And Ellen's +face was not the face of a girl strolling with the Force for pleasure. + +His heart stopped, and then began to race. His cheeks flushed a dusky +crimson. His jaw fell, and a prickly warmth glowed in the parts about +his spine. + +'Goo'!' + +His fingers sought his collar. + +'Crumbs!' + +He was hot all over. + +'Goo' Lor'! She's been pinched!' + +He tugged at his collar. It was choking him. + +Alf Brooks did not show up well in the first real crisis which life had +forced upon him. That must be admitted. Later, when it was over, and he +had leisure for self-examination, he admitted it to himself. But even +then he excused himself by asking Space in a blustering manner what +else he could ha' done. And if the question did not bring much balm to +his soul at the first time of asking, it proved wonderfully soothing on +constant repetition. He repeated it at intervals for the next two days, +and by the end of that time his cure was complete. On the third morning +his 'Milk--oo--oo' had regained its customary carefree ring, and he was +feeling that he had acted in difficult circumstances in the only +possible manner. + +Consider. He was Alf Brooks, well known and respected in the +neighbourhood; a singer in the choir on Sundays; owner of a milk-walk +in the most fashionable part of Battersea; to all practical purposes a +public man. Was he to recognize, in broad daylight and in open street, +a girl who walked with a policeman because she had to, a malefactor, a +girl who had been pinched? + +Ellen, Constable Plimmer woodenly at her side, came towards him. She +was ten yards off--seven--five--three--Alf Brooks tilted his hat over +his eyes and walked past her, unseeing, a stranger. + +He hurried on. He was conscious of a curious feeling that somebody was +just going to kick him, but he dared not look round. + + * * * * * + +Constable Plimmer eyed the middle distance with an earnest gaze. His +face was redder than ever. Beneath his blue tunic strange emotions were +at work. Something seemed to be filling his throat. He tried to swallow +it. + +He stopped in his stride. The girl glanced up at him in a kind of dull, +questioning way. Their eyes met for the first time that afternoon, and +it seemed to Constable Plimmer that whatever it was that was +interfering with the inside of his throat had grown larger, and more +unmanageable. + +There was the misery of the stricken animal in her gaze. He had seen +women look like that in Whitechapel. The woman to whom, indirectly, he +owed his broken nose had looked like that. As his hand had fallen on +the collar of the man who was kicking her to death, he had seen her +eyes. They were Ellen's eyes, as she stood there now--tortured, +crushed, yet uncomplaining. + +Constable Plimmer looked at Ellen, and Ellen looked at Constable +Plimmer. Down the street some children were playing with a dog. In one +of the flats a woman began to sing. + +'Hop it,' said Constable Plimmer. + +He spoke gruffly. He found speech difficult. + +The girl started. + +'What say?' + +'Hop it. Get along. Run away.' + +'What do you mean?' + +Constable Plimmer scowled. His face was scarlet. His jaw protruded like +a granite break-water. + +'Go on,' he growled. 'Hop it. Tell him it was all a joke. I'll explain +at the station.' + +Understanding seemed to come to her slowly. + +'Do you mean I'm to go?' + +'Yes.' + +'What do you mean? You aren't going to take me to the station?' + +'No.' + +She stared at him. Then, suddenly, she broke down, + +'He wouldn't look at me. He was ashamed of me. He pretended not to see +me.' + +She leaned against the wall, her back shaking. + +'Well, run after him, and tell him it was all--' + +'No, no, no.' + +Constable Plimmer looked morosely at the side-walk. He kicked it. + +She turned. Her eyes were red, but she was no longer crying. Her chin +had a brave tilt. + +'I couldn't--not after what he did. Let's go along. I--I don't care.' + +She looked at him curiously. + +'Were you really going to have let me go?' + +Constable Plimmer nodded. He was aware of her eyes searching his face, +but he did not meet them. + +'Why?' + +He did not answer. + +'What would have happened to you, if you had have done?' + +Constable Plimmer's scowl was of the stuff of which nightmares are +made. He kicked the unoffending side-walk with an increased +viciousness. + +'Dismissed the Force,' he said curtly. + +'And sent to prison, too, I shouldn't wonder.' + +'Maybe.' + +He heard her draw a deep breath, and silence fell upon them again. The +dog down the road had stopped barking. The woman in the flat had +stopped singing. They were curiously alone. + +'Would you have done all that for me?' she said. + +'Yes.' + +'Why?' + +'Because I don't think you ever did it. Stole that money, I mean. Nor +the brooch, neither.' + +'Was that all?' + +'What do you mean--all?' + +'Was that the only reason?' + +He swung round on her, almost threateningly. + +'No,' he said hoarsely. 'No, it wasn't, and you know it wasn't. Well, +if you want it, you can have it. It was because I love you. There! Now +I've said it, and now you can go on and laugh at me as much as you +want.' + +'I'm not laughing,' she said soberly. + +'You think I'm a fool!' + +'No, I don't.' + +'I'm nothing to you. _He's_ the fellow you're stuck on.' + +She gave a little shudder. + +'No.' + +'What do you mean?' + +'I've changed.' She paused. 'I think I shall have changed more by the +time I come out.' + +'Come out?' + +'Come out of prison.' + +'You're not going to prison.' + +'Yes, I am.' + +'I won't take you.' + +'Yes, you will. Think I'm going to let you get yourself in trouble like +that, to get me out of a fix? Not much.' + +'You hop it, like a good girl.' + +'Not me.' + +He stood looking at her like a puzzled bear. + +'They can't eat me.' + +'They'll cut off all of your hair.' + +'D'you like my hair?' + +'Yes.' + +'Well, it'll grow again.' + +'Don't stand talking. Hop it.' + +'I won't. Where's the station?' + +'Next street.' + +'Well, come along, then.' + + * * * * * + +The blue glass lamp of the police-station came into sight, and for an +instant she stopped. Then she was walking on again, her chin tilted. +But her voice shook a little as she spoke. + +'Nearly there. Next stop, Battersea. All change! I say, mister--I don't +know your name.' + +'Plimmer's my name, miss. Edward Plimmer.' + +'I wonder if--I mean it'll be pretty lonely where I'm going--I wonder +if--What I mean is, it would be rather a lark, when I come out, if I +was to find a pal waiting for me to say "Hallo".' + +Constable Plimmer braced his ample feet against the stones, and turned +purple. + +'Miss,' he said, 'I'll be there, if I have to sit up all night. The +first thing you'll see when they open the doors is a great, ugly, +red-faced copper with big feet and a broken nose. And if you'll say +"Hallo" to him when he says "Hallo" to you, he'll be as pleased as +Punch and as proud as a duke. And, miss'--he clenched his hands till +the nails hurt the leathern flesh--'and, miss, there's just one thing +more I'd like to say. You'll be having a good deal of time to yourself +for awhile; you'll be able to do a good bit of thinking without anyone +to disturb you; and what I'd like you to give your mind to, if you +don't object, is just to think whether you can't forget that +narrow-chested, God-forsaken blighter who treated you so mean, and get +half-way fond of someone who knows jolly well you're the only girl +there is.' + +She looked past him at the lamp which hung, blue and forbidding, over +the station door. + +'How long'll I get?' she said. 'What will they give me? Thirty days?' + +He nodded. + +'It won't take me as long as that,' she said. 'I say, what do people +call you?--people who are fond of you, I mean?--Eddie or Ted?' + + + + +A SEA OF TROUBLES + + +Mr Meggs's mind was made up. He was going to commit suicide. + +There had been moments, in the interval which had elapsed between the +first inception of the idea and his present state of fixed +determination, when he had wavered. In these moments he had debated, +with Hamlet, the question whether it was nobler in the mind to suffer, +or to take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing end them. But +all that was over now. He was resolved. + +Mr Meggs's point, the main plank, as it were, in his suicidal platform, +was that with him it was beside the question whether or not it was +nobler to suffer in the mind. The mind hardly entered into it at all. +What he had to decide was whether it was worth while putting up any +longer with the perfectly infernal pain in his stomach. For Mr Meggs +was a martyr to indigestion. As he was also devoted to the pleasures of +the table, life had become for him one long battle, in which, whatever +happened, he always got the worst of it. + +He was sick of it. He looked back down the vista of the years, and +found therein no hope for the future. One after the other all the +patent medicines in creation had failed him. Smith's Supreme Digestive +Pellets--he had given them a more than fair trial. Blenkinsop's Liquid +Life-Giver--he had drunk enough of it to float a ship. Perkins's +Premier Pain-Preventer, strongly recommended by the sword-swallowing +lady at Barnum and Bailey's--he had wallowed in it. And so on down the +list. His interior organism had simply sneered at the lot of them. + +'Death, where is thy sting?' thought Mr Meggs, and forthwith began to +make his preparations. + +Those who have studied the matter say that the tendency to commit +suicide is greatest among those who have passed their fifty-fifth year, +and that the rate is twice as great for unoccupied males as for +occupied males. Unhappy Mr Meggs, accordingly, got it, so to speak, +with both barrels. He was fifty-six, and he was perhaps the most +unoccupied adult to be found in the length and breadth of the United +Kingdom. He toiled not, neither did he spin. Twenty years before, an +unexpected legacy had placed him in a position to indulge a natural +taste for idleness to the utmost. He was at that time, as regards his +professional life, a clerk in a rather obscure shipping firm. Out of +office hours he had a mild fondness for letters, which took the form of +meaning to read right through the hundred best books one day, but +actually contenting himself with the daily paper and an occasional +magazine. + +Such was Mr Meggs at thirty-six. The necessity for working for a living +and a salary too small to permit of self-indulgence among the more +expensive and deleterious dishes on the bill of fare had up to that +time kept his digestion within reasonable bounds. Sometimes he had +twinges; more often he had none. + +Then came the legacy, and with it Mr Meggs let himself go. He left +London and retired to his native village, where, with a French cook and +a series of secretaries to whom he dictated at long intervals +occasional paragraphs of a book on British Butterflies on which he +imagined himself to be at work, he passed the next twenty years. He +could afford to do himself well, and he did himself extremely well. +Nobody urged him to take exercise, so he took no exercise. Nobody +warned him of the perils of lobster and welsh rabbits to a man of +sedentary habits, for it was nobody's business to warn him. On the +contrary, people rather encouraged the lobster side of his character, +for he was a hospitable soul and liked to have his friends dine with +him. The result was that Nature, as is her wont, laid for him, and got +him. It seemed to Mr Meggs that he woke one morning to find himself a +chronic dyspeptic. That was one of the hardships of his position, to +his mind. The thing seemed to hit him suddenly out of a blue sky. One +moment, all appeared to be peace and joy; the next, a lively and +irritable wild-cat with red-hot claws seemed somehow to have introduced +itself into his interior. + +So Mr Meggs decided to end it. + +In this crisis of his life the old methodical habits of his youth +returned to him. A man cannot be a clerk in even an obscure firm of +shippers for a great length of time without acquiring system, and Mr +Meggs made his preparations calmly and with a forethought worthy of a +better cause. + +And so we find him, one glorious June morning, seated at his desk, +ready for the end. + +Outside, the sun beat down upon the orderly streets of the village. +Dogs dozed in the warm dust. Men who had to work went about their toil +moistly, their minds far away in shady public-houses. + +But Mr Meggs, in his study, was cool both in mind and body. + +Before him, on the desk, lay six little slips of paper. They were +bank-notes, and they represented, with the exception of a few pounds, +his entire worldly wealth. Beside them were six letters, six envelopes, +and six postage stamps. Mr Meggs surveyed them calmly. + +He would not have admitted it, but he had had a lot of fun writing +those letters. The deliberation as to who should be his heirs had +occupied him pleasantly for several days, and, indeed, had taken his +mind off his internal pains at times so thoroughly that he had +frequently surprised himself in an almost cheerful mood. Yes, he would +have denied it, but it had been great sport sitting in his arm-chair, +thinking whom he should pick out from England's teeming millions to +make happy with his money. All sorts of schemes had passed through his +mind. He had a sense of power which the mere possession of the money +had never given him. He began to understand why millionaires make freak +wills. At one time he had toyed with the idea of selecting someone at +random from the London Directory and bestowing on him all he had to +bequeath. He had only abandoned the scheme when it occurred to him that +he himself would not be in a position to witness the recipient's +stunned delight. And what was the good of starting a thing like that, +if you were not to be in at the finish? + +Sentiment succeeded whimsicality. His old friends of the office--those +were the men to benefit. What good fellows they had been! Some were +dead, but he still kept intermittently in touch with half a dozen of +them. And--an important point--he knew their present addresses. + +This point was important, because Mr Meggs had decided not to leave a +will, but to send the money direct to the beneficiaries. He knew what +wills were. Even in quite straightforward circumstances they often made +trouble. There had been some slight complication about his own legacy +twenty years ago. Somebody had contested the will, and before the thing +was satisfactorily settled the lawyers had got away with about twenty +per cent of the whole. No, no wills. If he made one, and then killed +himself, it might be upset on a plea of insanity. He knew of no +relative who might consider himself entitled to the money, but there +was the chance that some remote cousin existed; and then the comrades +of his youth might fail to collect after all. + +He declined to run the risk. Quietly and by degrees he had sold out the +stocks and shares in which his fortune was invested, and deposited the +money in his London bank. Six piles of large notes, dividing the total +into six equal parts; six letters couched in a strain of reminiscent +pathos and manly resignation; six envelopes, legibly addressed; six +postage-stamps; and that part of his preparations was complete. He +licked the stamps and placed them on the envelopes; took the notes and +inserted them in the letters; folded the letters and thrust them into +the envelopes; sealed the envelopes; and unlocking the drawer of his +desk produced a small, black, ugly-looking bottle. + +He opened the bottle and poured the contents into a medicine-glass. + +It had not been without considerable thought that Mr Meggs had decided +upon the method of his suicide. The knife, the pistol, the rope--they +had all presented their charms to him. He had further examined the +merits of drowning and of leaping to destruction from a height. + +There were flaws in each. Either they were painful, or else they were +messy. Mr Meggs had a tidy soul, and he revolted from the thought of +spoiling his figure, as he would most certainly do if he drowned +himself; or the carpet, as he would if he used the pistol; or the +pavement--and possibly some innocent pedestrian, as must infallibly +occur should he leap off the Monument. The knife was out of the +question. Instinct told him that it would hurt like the very dickens. + +No; poison was the thing. Easy to take, quick to work, and on the whole +rather agreeable than otherwise. + +Mr Meggs hid the glass behind the inkpot and rang the bell. + +'Has Miss Pillenger arrived?' he inquired of the servant. + +'She has just come, sir.' + +'Tell her that I am waiting for her here.' + +Jane Pillenger was an institution. Her official position was that of +private secretary and typist to Mr Meggs. That is to say, on the rare +occasions when Mr Meggs's conscience overcame his indolence to the +extent of forcing him to resume work on his British Butterflies, it was +to Miss Pillenger that he addressed the few rambling and incoherent +remarks which constituted his idea of a regular hard, slogging spell of +literary composition. When he sank back in his chair, speechless and +exhausted like a Marathon runner who has started his sprint a mile or +two too soon, it was Miss Pillenger's task to unscramble her shorthand +notes, type them neatly, and place them in their special drawer in the +desk. + +Miss Pillenger was a wary spinster of austere views, uncertain age, and +a deep-rooted suspicion of men--a suspicion which, to do an abused sex +justice, they had done nothing to foster. Men had always been almost +coldly correct in their dealings with Miss Pillenger. In her twenty +years of experience as a typist and secretary she had never had to +refuse with scorn and indignation so much as a box of chocolates from +any of her employers. Nevertheless, she continued to be icily on her +guard. The clenched fist of her dignity was always drawn back, ready to +swing on the first male who dared to step beyond the bounds of +professional civility. + +Such was Miss Pillenger. She was the last of a long line of unprotected +English girlhood which had been compelled by straitened circumstances +to listen for hire to the appallingly dreary nonsense which Mr Meggs +had to impart on the subject of British Butterflies. Girls had come, +and girls had gone, blondes, ex-blondes, brunettes, ex-brunettes, +near-blondes, near-brunettes; they had come buoyant, full of hope and +life, tempted by the lavish salary which Mr Meggs had found himself +after a while compelled to pay; and they had dropped off, one after +another, like exhausted bivalves, unable to endure the crushing boredom +of life in the village which had given Mr Meggs to the world. For Mr +Meggs's home-town was no City of Pleasure. Remove the Vicar's +magic-lantern and the try-your-weight machine opposite the post office, +and you practically eliminated the temptations to tread the primrose +path. The only young men in the place were silent, gaping youths, at +whom lunacy commissioners looked sharply and suspiciously when they +met. The tango was unknown, and the one-step. The only form of dance +extant--and that only at the rarest intervals--was a sort of polka not +unlike the movements of a slightly inebriated boxing kangaroo. Mr +Meggs's secretaries and typists gave the town one startled, horrified +glance, and stampeded for London like frightened ponies. + +Not so Miss Pillenger. She remained. She was a business woman, and it +was enough for her that she received a good salary. For five pounds a +week she would have undertaken a post as secretary and typist to a +Polar Expedition. For six years she had been with Mr Meggs, and +doubtless she looked forward to being with him at least six years more. + +Perhaps it was the pathos of this thought which touched Mr Meggs, as +she sailed, notebook in hand, through the doorway of the study. Here, +he told himself, was a confiding girl, all unconscious of impending +doom, relying on him as a daughter relies on her father. He was glad +that he had not forgotten Miss Pillenger when he was making his +preparations. + +He had certainly not forgotten Miss Pillenger. On his desk beside the +letters lay a little pile of notes, amounting in all to five hundred +pounds--her legacy. + +Miss Pillenger was always business-like. She sat down in her chair, +opened her notebook, moistened her pencil, and waited expectantly for +Mr Meggs to clear his throat and begin work on the butterflies. She was +surprised when, instead of frowning, as was his invariable practice +when bracing himself for composition, he bestowed upon her a sweet, +slow smile. + +All that was maidenly and defensive in Miss Pillenger leaped to arms +under that smile. It ran in and out among her nerve-centres. It had +been long in arriving, this moment of crisis, but here it undoubtedly +was at last. After twenty years an employer was going to court disaster +by trying to flirt with her. + +Mr Meggs went on smiling. You cannot classify smiles. Nothing lends +itself so much to a variety of interpretations as a smile. Mr Meggs +thought he was smiling the sad, tender smile of a man who, knowing +himself to be on the brink of the tomb, bids farewell to a faithful +employee. Miss Pillenger's view was that he was smiling like an +abandoned old rip who ought to have been ashamed of himself. + +'No, Miss Pillenger,' said Mr Meggs, 'I shall not work this morning. I +shall want you, if you will be so good, to post these six letters for +me.' + +Miss Pillenger took the letters. Mr Meggs surveyed her tenderly. + +'Miss Pillenger, you have been with me a long time now. Six years, is +it not? Six years. Well, well. I don't think I have ever made you a +little present, have I?' + +'You give me a good salary.' + +'Yes, but I want to give you something more. Six years is a long time. +I have come to regard you with a different feeling from that which the +ordinary employer feels for his secretary. You and I have worked +together for six long years. Surely I may be permitted to give you some +token of my appreciation of your fidelity.' He took the pile of notes. +'These are for you, Miss Pillenger.' + +He rose and handed them to her. He eyed her for a moment with all the +sentimentality of a man whose digestion has been out of order for over +two decades. The pathos of the situation swept him away. He bent over +Miss Pillenger, and kissed her on the forehead. + +Smiles excepted, there is nothing so hard to classify as a kiss. Mr +Meggs's notion was that he kissed Miss Pillenger much as some great +general, wounded unto death, might have kissed his mother, his sister, +or some particularly sympathetic aunt; Miss Pillenger's view, differing +substantially from this, may be outlined in her own words. + +'Ah!' she cried, as, dealing Mr Meggs's conveniently placed jaw a blow +which, had it landed an inch lower down, might have knocked him out, +she sprang to her feet. 'How dare you! I've been waiting for this Mr +Meggs. I have seen it in your eye. I have expected it. Let me tell you +that I am not at all the sort of girl with whom it is safe to behave +like that. I can protect myself. I am only a working-girl--' + +Mr Meggs, who had fallen back against the desk as a stricken pugilist +falls on the ropes, pulled himself together to protest. + +'Miss Pillenger,' he cried, aghast, 'you misunderstand me. I had no +intention--' + +'Misunderstand you? Bah! I am only a working-girl--' + +'Nothing was farther from my mind--' + +'Indeed! Nothing was farther from your mind! You give me money, you +shower your vile kisses on me, but nothing was farther from your mind +than the obvious interpretation of such behaviour!' Before coming to Mr +Meggs, Miss Pillenger had been secretary to an Indiana novelist. She +had learned style from the master. 'Now that you have gone too far, you +are frightened at what you have done. You well may be, Mr Meggs. I am +only a working-girl--' + +'Miss Pillenger, I implore you--' + +'Silence! I am only a working-girl--' + +A wave of mad fury swept over Mr Meggs. The shock of the blow and still +more of the frightful ingratitude of this horrible woman nearly made +him foam at the mouth. + +'Don't keep on saying you're only a working-girl,' he bellowed. 'You'll +drive me mad. Go. Go away from me. Get out. Go anywhere, but leave me +alone!' + +Miss Pillenger was not entirely sorry to obey the request. Mr Meggs's +sudden fury had startled and frightened her. So long as she could end +the scene victorious, she was anxious to withdraw. + +'Yes, I will go,' she said, with dignity, as she opened the door. 'Now +that you have revealed yourself in your true colours, Mr Meggs, this +house is no fit place for a wor--' + +She caught her employer's eye, and vanished hastily. + +Mr Meggs paced the room in a ferment. He had been shaken to his core by +the scene. He boiled with indignation. That his kind thoughts should +have been so misinterpreted--it was too much. Of all ungrateful worlds, +this world was the most-- + +He stopped suddenly in his stride, partly because his shin had struck a +chair, partly because an idea had struck his mind. + +Hopping madly, he added one more parallel between himself and Hamlet by +soliloquizing aloud. + +'I'll be hanged if I commit suicide,' he yelled. + +And as he spoke the words a curious peace fell on him, as on a man who +has awakened from a nightmare. He sat down at the desk. What an idiot +he had been ever to contemplate self-destruction. What could have +induced him to do it? By his own hand to remove himself, merely in +order that a pack of ungrateful brutes might wallow in his money--it +was the scheme of a perfect fool. + +He wouldn't commit suicide. Not if he knew it. He would stick on and +laugh at them. And if he did have an occasional pain inside, what of +that? Napoleon had them, and look at him. He would be blowed if he +committed suicide. + +With the fire of a new resolve lighting up his eyes, he turned to seize +the six letters and rifle them of their contents. + +They were gone. + +It took Mr Meggs perhaps thirty seconds to recollect where they had +gone to, and then it all came back to him. He had given them to the +demon Pillenger, and, if he did not overtake her and get them back, she +would mail them. + +Of all the mixed thoughts which seethed in Mr Meggs's mind at that +moment, easily the most prominent was the reflection that from his +front door to the post office was a walk of less than five minutes. + + * * * * * + +Miss Pillenger walked down the sleepy street in the June sunshine, +boiling, as Mr Meggs had done, with indignation. She, too, had been +shaken to the core. It was her intention to fulfil her duty by posting +the letters which had been entrusted to her, and then to quit for ever +the service of one who, for six years a model employer, had at last +forgotten himself and showed his true nature. + +Her meditations were interrupted by a hoarse shout in her rear; and, +turning, she perceived the model employer running rapidly towards her. +His face was scarlet, his eyes wild, and he wore no hat. + +Miss Pillenger's mind worked swiftly. She took in the situation in a +flash. Unrequited, guilty love had sapped Mr Meggs's reason, and she +was to be the victim of his fury. She had read of scores of similar +cases in the newspapers. How little she had ever imagined that she +would be the heroine of one of these dramas of passion. + +She looked for one brief instant up and down the street. Nobody was in +sight. With a loud cry she began to run. + +'Stop!' + +It was the fierce voice of her pursuer. Miss Pillenger increased to +third speed. As she did so, she had a vision of headlines. + +'Stop!' roared Mr Meggs. + +'UNREQUITED PASSION MADE THIS MAN MURDERER,' thought Miss Pillenger. + +'Stop!' + +'CRAZED WITH LOVE HE SLAYS BEAUTIFUL BLONDE,' flashed out in letters of +crimson on the back of Miss Pillenger's mind. + +'Stop!' + +'SPURNED, HE STABS HER THRICE.' + +To touch the ground at intervals of twenty yards or so--that was the +ideal she strove after. She addressed herself to it with all the +strength of her powerful mind. + +In London, New York, Paris, and other cities where life is brisk, the +spectacle of a hatless gentleman with a purple face pursuing his +secretary through the streets at a rapid gallop would, of course, have +excited little, if any, remark. But in Mr Meggs's home-town events were +of rarer occurrence. The last milestone in the history of his native +place had been the visit, two years before, of Bingley's Stupendous +Circus, which had paraded along the main street on its way to the next +town, while zealous members of its staff visited the back premises of +the houses and removed all the washing from the lines. Since then deep +peace had reigned. + +Gradually, therefore, as the chase warmed up, citizens of all shapes +and sizes began to assemble. Miss Pillenger's screams and the general +appearance of Mr Meggs gave food for thought. Having brooded over the +situation, they decided at length to take a hand, with the result that +as Mr Meggs's grasp fell upon Miss Pillenger the grasp of several of +his fellow-townsmen fell upon him. + +'Save me!' said Miss Pillenger. + +Mr Meggs pointed speechlessly to the letters, which she still grasped +in her right hand. He had taken practically no exercise for twenty +years, and the pace had told upon him. + +Constable Gooch, guardian of the town's welfare, tightened his hold on +Mr Meggs's arm, and desired explanations. + +'He--he was going to murder me,' said Miss Pillenger. + +'Kill him,' advised an austere bystander. + +'What do you mean you were going to murder the lady?' inquired +Constable Gooch. + +Mr Meggs found speech. + +'I--I--I--I only wanted those letters.' + +'What for?' + +'They're mine.' + +'You charge her with stealing 'em?' + +'He gave them me to post with his own hands,' cried Miss Pillenger. + +'I know I did, but I want them back.' + +By this time the constable, though age had to some extent dimmed his +sight, had recognized beneath the perspiration, features which, though +they were distorted, were nevertheless those of one whom he respected +as a leading citizen. + +'Why, Mr Meggs!' he said. + +This identification by one in authority calmed, if it a little +disappointed, the crowd. What it was they did not know, but, it was +apparently not a murder, and they began to drift off. + +'Why don't you give Mr Meggs his letters when he asks you, ma'am?' said +the constable. + +Miss Pillenger drew herself up haughtily. + +'Here are your letters, Mr Meggs, I hope we shall never meet again.' + +Mr Meggs nodded. That was his view, too. + +All things work together for good. The following morning Mr Meggs awoke +from a dreamless sleep with a feeling that some curious change had +taken place in him. He was abominably stiff, and to move his limbs was +pain, but down in the centre of his being there was a novel sensation +of lightness. He could have declared that he was happy. + +Wincing, he dragged himself out of bed and limped to the window. He +threw it open. It was a perfect morning. A cool breeze smote his face, +bringing with it pleasant scents and the soothing sound of God's +creatures beginning a new day. + +An astounding thought struck him. + +'Why, I feel well!' + +Then another. + +'It must be the exercise I took yesterday. By George, I'll do it +regularly.' + +He drank in the air luxuriously. Inside him, the wild-cat gave him a +sudden claw, but it was a half-hearted effort, the effort of one who +knows that he is beaten. Mr Meggs was so absorbed in his thoughts that +he did not even notice it. + +'London,' he was saying to himself. 'One of these physical culture +places.... Comparatively young man.... Put myself in their hands.... +Mild, regular exercise....' + +He limped to the bathroom. + + + + +THE MAN WITH TWO LEFT FEET + + +Students of the folk-lore of the United States of America are no doubt +familiar with the quaint old story of Clarence MacFadden. Clarence +MacFadden, it seems, was 'wishful to dance, but his feet wasn't gaited +that way. So he sought a professor and asked him his price, and said he +was willing to pay. The professor' (the legend goes on) 'looked down +with alarm at his feet and marked their enormous expanse; and he tacked +on a five to his regular price for teaching MacFadden to dance.' + +I have often been struck by the close similarity between the case of +Clarence and that of Henry Wallace Mills. One difference alone presents +itself. It would seem to have been mere vanity and ambition that +stimulated the former; whereas the motive force which drove Henry Mills +to defy Nature and attempt dancing was the purer one of love. He did it +to please his wife. Had he never gone to Ye Bonnie Briar-Bush Farm, +that popular holiday resort, and there met Minnie Hill, he would +doubtless have continued to spend in peaceful reading the hours not +given over to work at the New York bank at which he was employed as +paying-cashier. For Henry was a voracious reader. His idea of a +pleasant evening was to get back to his little flat, take off his coat, +put on his slippers, light a pipe, and go on from the point where he +had left off the night before in his perusal of the BIS-CAL volume of +the _Encyclopaedia Britannica_--making notes as he read in a stout +notebook. He read the BIS-CAL volume because, after many days, he had +finished the A-AND, AND-AUS, and the AUS-BIS. There was something +admirable--and yet a little horrible--about Henry's method of study. He +went after Learning with the cold and dispassionate relentlessness of a +stoat pursuing a rabbit. The ordinary man who is paying instalments on +the _Encyclopaedia Britannica_ is apt to get over-excited and to +skip impatiently to Volume XXVIII (VET-ZYM) to see how it all comes out +in the end. Not so Henry. His was not a frivolous mind. He intended to +read the _Encyclopaedia_ through, and he was not going to spoil +his pleasure by peeping ahead. + +It would seem to be an inexorable law of Nature that no man shall shine +at both ends. If he has a high forehead and a thirst for wisdom, his +fox-trotting (if any) shall be as the staggerings of the drunken; +while, if he is a good dancer, he is nearly always petrified from the +ears upward. No better examples of this law could have been found than +Henry Mills and his fellow-cashier, Sidney Mercer. In New York banks +paying-cashiers, like bears, tigers, lions, and other fauna, are always +shut up in a cage in pairs, and are consequently dependent on each +other for entertainment and social intercourse when business is slack. +Henry Mills and Sidney simply could not find a subject in common. +Sidney knew absolutely nothing of even such elementary things as Abana, +Aberration, Abraham, or Acrogenae; while Henry, on his side, was +scarcely aware that there had been any developments in the dance since +the polka. It was a relief to Henry when Sidney threw up his job to +join the chorus of a musical comedy, and was succeeded by a man who, +though full of limitations, could at least converse intelligently on +Bowls. + +Such, then, was Henry Wallace Mills. He was in the middle thirties, +temperate, studious, a moderate smoker, and--one would have said--a +bachelor of the bachelors, armour-plated against Cupid's well-meant but +obsolete artillery. Sometimes Sidney Mercer's successor in the teller's +cage, a sentimental young man, would broach the topic of Woman and +Marriage. He would ask Henry if he ever intended to get married. On +such occasions Henry would look at him in a manner which was a blend of +scorn, amusement, and indignation; and would reply with a single word: + +'Me!' + +It was the way he said it that impressed you. + +But Henry had yet to experience the unmanning atmosphere of a lonely +summer resort. He had only just reached the position in the bank where +he was permitted to take his annual vacation in the summer. Hitherto he +had always been released from his cage during the winter months, and +had spent his ten days of freedom at his flat, with a book in his hand +and his feet on the radiator. But the summer after Sidney Mercer's +departure they unleashed him in August. + +It was meltingly warm in the city. Something in Henry cried out for the +country. For a month before the beginning of his vacation he devoted +much of the time that should have been given to the _Encyclopaedia +Britannica_ in reading summer-resort literature. He decided at +length upon Ye Bonnie Briar-Bush Farm because the advertisements spoke +so well of it. + +Ye Bonnie Briar-Bush Farm was a rather battered frame building many +miles from anywhere. Its attractions included a Lovers' Leap, a Grotto, +golf-links--a five-hole course where the enthusiast found unusual +hazards in the shape of a number of goats tethered at intervals between +the holes--and a silvery lake, only portions of which were used as a +dumping-ground for tin cans and wooden boxes. It was all new and +strange to Henry and caused him an odd exhilaration. Something of +gaiety and reckless abandon began to creep into his veins. He had a +curious feeling that in these romantic surroundings some adventure +ought to happen to him. + +At this juncture Minnie Hill arrived. She was a small, slim girl, +thinner and paler than she should have been, with large eyes that +seemed to Henry pathetic and stirred his chivalry. He began to think a +good deal about Minnie Hill. + +And then one evening he met her on the shores of the silvery lake. He +was standing there, slapping at things that looked like mosquitoes, but +could not have been, for the advertisements expressly stated that none +were ever found in the neighbourhood of Ye Bonnie Briar-Bush Farm, when +along she came. She walked slowly, as if she were tired. A strange +thrill, half of pity, half of something else, ran through Henry. He +looked at her. She looked at him. + +'Good evening,' he said. + +They were the first words he had spoken to her. She never contributed +to the dialogue of the dining-room, and he had been too shy to seek her +out in the open. + +She said 'Good evening,' too, tying the score. And there was silence +for a moment. + +Commiseration overcame Henry's shyness. + +'You're looking tired,' he said. + +'I feel tired.' She paused. 'I overdid it in the city.' + +'It?' + +'Dancing.' + +'Oh, dancing. Did you dance much?' + +'Yes; a great deal.' + +'Ah!' + +A promising, even a dashing start. But how to continue? For the first +time Henry regretted the steady determination of his methods with the +_Encyclopaedia_. How pleasant if he could have been in a position +to talk easily of Dancing. Then memory reminded him that, though he had +not yet got up to Dancing, it was only a few weeks before that he had +been reading of the Ballet. + +'I don't dance myself,' he said, 'but I am fond of reading about it. +Did you know that the word "ballet" incorporated three distinct modern +words, "ballet", "ball", and "ballad", and that ballet-dancing was +originally accompanied by singing?' + +It hit her. It had her weak. She looked at him with awe in her eyes. +One might almost say that she gaped at Henry. + +'I hardly know anything,' she said. + +'The first descriptive ballet seen in London, England,' said Henry, +quietly, 'was "The Tavern Bilkers", which was played at Drury Lane +in--in seventeen--something.' + +'Was it?' + +'And the earliest modern ballet on record was that given by--by someone +to celebrate the marriage of the Duke of Milan in 1489.' + +There was no doubt or hesitation about the date this time. It was +grappled to his memory by hoops of steel owing to the singular +coincidence of it being also his telephone number. He gave it out with +a roll, and the girl's eyes widened. + +'What an awful lot you know!' + +'Oh, no,' said Henry, modestly. 'I read a great deal.' + +'It must be splendid to know a lot,' she said, wistfully. 'I've never +had time for reading. I've always wanted to. I think you're wonderful!' + +Henry's soul was expanding like a flower and purring like a +well-tickled cat. Never in his life had he been admired by a woman. The +sensation was intoxicating. + +Silence fell upon them. They started to walk back to the farm, warned +by the distant ringing of a bell that supper was about to materialize. +It was not a musical bell, but distance and the magic of this unusual +moment lent it charm. The sun was setting. It threw a crimson carpet +across the silvery lake. The air was very still. The creatures, +unclassified by science, who might have been mistaken for mosquitoes +had their presence been possible at Ye Bonnie Briar-Bush Farm, were +biting harder than ever. But Henry heeded them not. He did not even +slap at them. They drank their fill of his blood and went away to put +their friends on to this good thing; but for Henry they did not exist. +Strange things were happening to him. And, lying awake that night in +bed, he recognized the truth. He was in love. + +After that, for the remainder of his stay, they were always together. +They walked in the woods, they sat by the silvery lake. He poured out +the treasures of his learning for her, and she looked at him with +reverent eyes, uttering from time to time a soft 'Yes' or a musical +'Gee!' + +In due season Henry went back to New York. + +'You're dead wrong about love, Mills,' said his sentimental +fellow-cashier, shortly after his return. 'You ought to get married.' + +'I'm going to,' replied Henry, briskly. 'Week tomorrow.' + +Which stunned the other so thoroughly that he gave a customer who +entered at that moment fifteen dollars for a ten-dollar cheque, and had +to do some excited telephoning after the bank had closed. + +Henry's first year as a married man was the happiest of his life. He +had always heard this period described as the most perilous of +matrimony. He had braced himself for clashings of tastes, painful +adjustments of character, sudden and unavoidable quarrels. Nothing of +the kind happened. From the very beginning they settled down in perfect +harmony. She merged with his life as smoothly as one river joins +another. He did not even have to alter his habits. Every morning he had +his breakfast at eight, smoked a cigarette, and walked to the +Underground. At five he left the bank, and at six he arrived home, for +it was his practice to walk the first two miles of the way, breathing +deeply and regularly. Then dinner. Then the quiet evening. Sometimes +the moving-pictures, but generally the quiet evening, he reading the +_Encyclopaedia_--aloud now--Minnie darning his socks, but never +ceasing to listen. + +Each day brought the same sense of grateful amazement that he should be +so wonderfully happy, so extraordinarily peaceful. Everything was as +perfect as it could be. Minnie was looking a different girl. She had +lost her drawn look. She was filling out. + +Sometimes he would suspend his reading for a moment, and look across at +her. At first he would see only her soft hair, as she bent over her +sewing. Then, wondering at the silence, she would look up, and he would +meet her big eyes. And then Henry would gurgle with happiness, and +demand of himself, silently: + +'Can you beat it!' + +It was the anniversary of their wedding. They celebrated it in fitting +style. They dined at a crowded and exhilarating Italian restaurant on a +street off Seventh Avenue, where red wine was included in the bill, and +excitable people, probably extremely clever, sat round at small tables +and talked all together at the top of their voices. After dinner they +saw a musical comedy. And then--the great event of the night--they +went on to supper at a glittering restaurant near Times Square. + +There was something about supper at an expensive restaurant which had +always appealed to Henry's imagination. Earnest devourer as he was of +the solids of literature, he had tasted from time to time its lighter +face--those novels which begin with the hero supping in the midst of +the glittering throng and having his attention attracted to a +distinguished-looking elderly man with a grey imperial who is entering +with a girl so strikingly beautiful that the revellers turn, as she +passes, to look after her. And then, as he sits and smokes, a waiter +comes up to the hero and, with a soft '_Pardon, m'sieu!_' hands +him a note. + +The atmosphere of Geisenheimer's suggested all that sort of thing to +Henry. They had finished supper, and he was smoking a cigar--his second +that day. He leaned back in his chair and surveyed the scene. He felt +braced up, adventurous. He had that feeling, which comes to all quiet +men who like to sit at home and read, that this was the sort of +atmosphere in which he really belonged. The brightness of it all--the +dazzling lights, the music, the hubbub, in which the deep-throated +gurgle of the wine-agent surprised while drinking soup blended with the +shriller note of the chorus-girl calling to her mate--these things got +Henry. He was thirty-six next birthday, but he felt a youngish +twenty-one. + +A voice spoke at his side. Henry looked up, to perceive Sidney Mercer. + +The passage of a year, which had turned Henry into a married man, had +turned Sidney Mercer into something so magnificent that the spectacle +for a moment deprived Henry of speech. Faultless evening dress clung +with loving closeness to Sidney's lissom form. Gleaming shoes of +perfect patent leather covered his feet. His light hair was brushed +back into a smooth sleekness on which the electric lights shone like +stars on some beautiful pool. His practically chinless face beamed +amiably over a spotless collar. + +Henry wore blue serge. + +'What are you doing here, Henry, old top?' said the vision. 'I didn't +know you ever came among the bright lights.' + +His eyes wandered off to Minnie. There was admiration in them, for +Minnie was looking her prettiest. + +'Wife,' said Henry, recovering speech. And to Minnie: 'Mr Mercer. Old +friend.' + +'So you're married? Wish you luck. How's the bank?' + +Henry said the bank was doing as well as could be expected. + +'You still on the stage?' + +Mr Mercer shook his head importantly. + +'Got better job. Professional dancer at this show. Rolling in money. +Why aren't you dancing?' + +The words struck a jarring note. The lights and the music until that +moment had had a subtle psychological effect on Henry, enabling him to +hypnotize himself into a feeling that it was not inability to dance +that kept him in his seat, but that he had had so much of that sort of +thing that he really preferred to sit quietly and look on for a change. +Sidney's question changed all that. It made him face the truth. + +'I don't dance.' + +'For the love of Mike! I bet Mrs Mills does. Would you care for a turn, +Mrs Mills?' + +'No, thank you, really.' + +But remorse was now at work on Henry. He perceived that he had been +standing in the way of Minnie's pleasure. Of course she wanted to +dance. All women did. She was only refusing for his sake. + +'Nonsense, Min. Go to it.' + +Minnie looked doubtful. + +'Of course you must dance, Min. I shall be all right. I'll sit here and +smoke.' + +The next moment Minnie and Sidney were treading the complicated +measure; and simultaneously Henry ceased to be a youngish twenty-one +and was even conscious of a fleeting doubt as to whether he was really +only thirty-five. + +Boil the whole question of old age down, and what it amounts to is that +a man is young as long as he can dance without getting lumbago, and, if +he cannot dance, he is never young at all. This was the truth that +forced itself upon Henry Wallace Mills, as he sat watching his wife +moving over the floor in the arms of Sidney Mercer. Even he could see +that Minnie danced well. He thrilled at the sight of her gracefulness; +and for the first time since his marriage he became introspective. It +had never struck him before how much younger Minnie was than himself. +When she had signed the paper at the City Hall on the occasion of the +purchase of the marriage licence, she had given her age, he remembered +now, as twenty-six. It had made no impression on him at the time. Now, +however, he perceived clearly that between twenty-six and thirty-five +there was a gap of nine years; and a chill sensation came upon him of +being old and stodgy. How dull it must be for poor little Minnie to be +cooped up night after night with such an old fogy? Other men took their +wives out and gave them a good time, dancing half the night with them. +All he could do was to sit at home and read Minnie dull stuff from the +_Encyclopaedia_. What a life for the poor child! Suddenly, he felt +acutely jealous of the rubber-jointed Sidney Mercer, a man whom +hitherto he had always heartily despised. + +The music stopped. They came back to the table, Minnie with a pink glow +on her face that made her younger than ever; Sidney, the insufferable +ass, grinning and smirking and pretending to be eighteen. They looked +like a couple of children--Henry, catching sight of himself in a +mirror, was surprised to find that his hair was not white. + +Half an hour later, in the cab going home, Minnie, half asleep, was +aroused by a sudden stiffening of the arm that encircled her waist and +a sudden snort close to her ear. + +It was Henry Wallace Mills resolving that he would learn to dance. + +Being of a literary turn of mind and also economical, Henry's first +step towards his new ambition was to buy a fifty-cent book entitled +_The ABC of Modern Dancing_, by 'Tango'. It would, he felt--not +without reason--be simpler and less expensive if he should learn the +steps by the aid of this treatise than by the more customary method of +taking lessons. But quite early in the proceedings he was faced by +complications. In the first place, it was his intention to keep what he +was doing a secret from Minnie, in order to be able to give her a +pleasant surprise on her birthday, which would be coming round in a few +weeks. In the second place, _The ABC of Modern Dancing_ proved on +investigation far more complex than its title suggested. + +These two facts were the ruin of the literary method, for, while it was +possible to study the text and the plates at the bank, the home was the +only place in which he could attempt to put the instructions into +practice. You cannot move the right foot along dotted line A B and +bring the left foot round curve C D in a paying-cashier's cage in a +bank, nor, if you are at all sensitive to public opinion, on the +pavement going home. And while he was trying to do it in the parlour of +the flat one night when he imagined that Minnie was in the kitchen +cooking supper, she came in unexpectedly to ask how he wanted the steak +cooked. He explained that he had had a sudden touch of cramp, but the +incident shook his nerve. + +After this he decided that he must have lessons. + +Complications did not cease with this resolve. Indeed, they became more +acute. It was not that there was any difficulty about finding an +instructor. The papers were full of their advertisements. He selected a +Mme Gavarni because she lived in a convenient spot. Her house was in a +side street, with a station within easy reach. The real problem was +when to find time for the lessons. His life was run on such a regular +schedule that he could hardly alter so important a moment in it as the +hour of his arrival home without exciting comment. Only deceit could +provide a solution. + +'Min, dear,' he said at breakfast. + +'Yes, Henry?' + +Henry turned mauve. He had never lied to her before. + +'I'm not getting enough exercise.' + +'Why you look so well.' + +'I get a kind of heavy feeling sometimes. I think I'll put on another +mile or so to my walk on my way home. So--so I'll be back a little +later in future.' + +'Very well, dear.' + +It made him feel like a particularly low type of criminal, but, by +abandoning his walk, he was now in a position to devote an hour a day +to the lessons; and Mme Gavarni had said that that would be ample. + +'Sure, Bill,' she had said. She was a breezy old lady with a military +moustache and an unconventional manner with her clientele. 'You come to +me an hour a day, and, if you haven't two left feet, we'll make you the +pet of society in a month.' + +'Is that so?' + +'It sure is. I never had a failure yet with a pupe, except one. And +that wasn't my fault.' + +'Had he two left feet?' + +'Hadn't any feet at all. Fell off of a roof after the second lesson, +and had to have 'em cut off him. At that, I could have learned him to +tango with wooden legs, only he got kind of discouraged. Well, see you +Monday, Bill. Be good.' + +And the kindly old soul, retrieving her chewing gum from the panel of +the door where she had placed it to facilitate conversation, dismissed +him. + +And now began what, in later years, Henry unhesitatingly considered the +most miserable period of his existence. There may be times when a man +who is past his first youth feels more unhappy and ridiculous than when +he is taking a course of lessons in the modern dance, but it is not +easy to think of them. Physically, his new experience caused Henry +acute pain. Muscles whose existence he had never suspected came into +being for--apparently--the sole purpose of aching. Mentally he suffered +even more. + +This was partly due to the peculiar method of instruction in vogue at +Mme Gavarni's, and partly to the fact that, when it came to the actual +lessons, a sudden niece was produced from a back room to give them. She +was a blonde young lady with laughing blue eyes, and Henry never +clasped her trim waist without feeling a black-hearted traitor to his +absent Minnie. Conscience racked him. Add to this the sensation of +being a strange, jointless creature with abnormally large hands and +feet, and the fact that it was Mme Gavarni's custom to stand in a +corner of the room during the hour of tuition, chewing gum and making +comments, and it is not surprising that Henry became wan and thin. + +Mme Gavarni had the trying habit of endeavouring to stimulate Henry by +frequently comparing his performance and progress with that of a +cripple whom she claimed to have taught at some previous time. + +She and the niece would have spirited arguments in his presence as to +whether or not the cripple had one-stepped better after his third +lesson than Henry after his fifth. The niece said no. As well, perhaps, +but not better. Mme Gavarni said that the niece was forgetting the way +the cripple had slid his feet. The niece said yes, that was so, maybe +she was. Henry said nothing. He merely perspired. + +He made progress slowly. This could not be blamed upon his +instructress, however. She did all that one woman could to speed him +up. Sometimes she would even pursue him into the street in order to +show him on the side-walk a means of doing away with some of his +numerous errors of _technique_, the elimination of which would +help to make him definitely the cripple's superior. The misery of +embracing her indoors was as nothing to the misery of embracing her on +the sidewalk. + +Nevertheless, having paid for his course of lessons in advance, and +being a determined man, he did make progress. One day, to his surprise, +he found his feet going through the motions without any definite +exercise of will-power on his part--almost as if they were endowed with +an intelligence of their own. It was the turning-point. It filled him +with a singular pride such as he had not felt since his first rise of +salary at the bank. + +Mme Gavarni was moved to dignified praise. + +'Some speed, kid!' she observed. 'Some speed!' + +Henry blushed modestly. It was the accolade. + +Every day, as his skill at the dance became more manifest, Henry found +occasion to bless the moment when he had decided to take lessons. He +shuddered sometimes at the narrowness of his escape from disaster. +Every day now it became more apparent to him, as he watched Minnie, +that she was chafing at the monotony of her life. That fatal supper had +wrecked the peace of their little home. Or perhaps it had merely +precipitated the wreck. Sooner or later, he told himself, she was bound +to have wearied of the dullness of her lot. At any rate, dating from +shortly after that disturbing night, a lack of ease and spontaneity +seemed to creep into their relations. A blight settled on the home. + +Little by little Minnie and he were growing almost formal towards each +other. She had lost her taste for being read to in the evenings and had +developed a habit of pleading a headache and going early to bed. +Sometimes, catching her eye when she was not expecting it, he surprised +an enigmatic look in it. It was a look, however, which he was able to +read. It meant that she was bored. + +It might have been expected that this state of affairs would have +distressed Henry. It gave him, on the contrary, a pleasurable thrill. +It made him feel that it had been worth it, going through the torments +of learning to dance. The more bored she was now the greater her +delight when he revealed himself dramatically. If she had been +contented with the life which he could offer her as a non-dancer, what +was the sense of losing weight and money in order to learn the steps? +He enjoyed the silent, uneasy evenings which had supplanted those +cheery ones of the first year of their marriage. The more uncomfortable +they were now, the more they would appreciate their happiness later on. +Henry belonged to the large circle of human beings who consider that +there is acuter pleasure in being suddenly cured of toothache than in +never having toothache at all. + +He merely chuckled inwardly, therefore, when, on the morning of her +birthday, having presented her with a purse which he knew she had long +coveted, he found himself thanked in a perfunctory and mechanical way. + +'I'm glad you like it,' he said. + +Minnie looked at the purse without enthusiasm. + +'It's just what I wanted,' she said, listlessly. + +'Well, I must be going. I'll get the tickets for the theatre while I'm +in town.' + +Minnie hesitated for a moment. + +'I don't believe I want to go to the theatre much tonight, Henry.' + +'Nonsense. We must have a party on your birthday. We'll go to the +theatre and then we'll have supper at Geisenheimer's again. I may be +working after hours at the bank today, so I guess I won't come home. +I'll meet you at that Italian place at six.' + +'Very well. You'll miss your walk, then?' + +'Yes. It doesn't matter for once.' + +'No. You're still going on with your walks, then?' + +'Oh, yes, yes.' + +'Three miles every day?' + +'Never miss it. It keeps me well.' + +'Yes.' + +'Good-bye, darling.' + +'Good-bye.' + +Yes, there was a distinct chill in the atmosphere. Thank goodness, +thought Henry, as he walked to the station, it would be different +tomorrow morning. He had rather the feeling of a young knight who has +done perilous deeds in secret for his lady, and is about at last to +receive credit for them. + +Geisenheimer's was as brilliant and noisy as it had been before when +Henry reached it that night, escorting a reluctant Minnie. After a +silent dinner and a theatrical performance during which neither had +exchanged more than a word between the acts, she had wished to abandon +the idea of supper and go home. But a squad of police could not have +kept Henry from Geisenheimer's. His hour had come. He had thought of +this moment for weeks, and he visualized every detail of his big scene. +At first they would sit at their table in silent discomfort. Then +Sidney Mercer would come up, as before, to ask Minnie to dance. And +then--then--Henry would rise and, abandoning all concealment, exclaim +grandly: 'No! I am going to dance with my wife!' Stunned amazement of +Minnie, followed by wild joy. Utter rout and discomfiture of that +pin-head, Mercer. And then, when they returned to their table, he +breathing easily and regularly as a trained dancer in perfect condition +should, she tottering a little with the sudden rapture of it all, they +would sit with their heads close together and start a new life. That +was the scenario which Henry had drafted. + +It worked out--up to a certain point--as smoothly as ever it had done +in his dreams. The only hitch which he had feared--to wit, the +non-appearance of Sidney Mercer, did not occur. It would spoil the +scene a little, he had felt, if Sidney Mercer did not present himself +to play the role of foil; but he need have had no fears on this point. +Sidney had the gift, not uncommon in the chinless, smooth-baked type of +man, of being able to see a pretty girl come into the restaurant even +when his back was towards the door. They had hardly seated themselves +when he was beside their table bleating greetings. + +'Why, Henry! Always here!' + +'Wife's birthday.' + +'Many happy returns of the day, Mrs Mills. We've just time for one turn +before the waiter comes with your order. Come along.' + +The band was staggering into a fresh tune, a tune that Henry knew well. +Many a time had Mme Gavarni hammered it out of an aged and unwilling +piano in order that he might dance with her blue-eyed niece. He rose. + +'No!' he exclaimed grandly. 'I am going to dance with my wife!' + +He had not under-estimated the sensation which he had looked forward to +causing. Minnie looked at him with round eyes. Sidney Mercer was +obviously startled. + +'I thought you couldn't dance.' + +'You never can tell,' said Henry, lightly. 'It looks easy enough. +Anyway, I'll try.' + +'Henry!' cried Minnie, as he clasped her. + +He had supposed that she would say something like that, but hardly in +that kind of voice. There is a way of saying 'Henry!' which conveys +surprised admiration and remorseful devotion; but she had not said it +in that way. There had been a note of horror in her voice. Henry's was +a simple mind, and the obvious solution, that Minnie thought that he +had drunk too much red wine at the Italian restaurant, did not occur to +him. + +He was, indeed, at the moment too busy to analyse vocal inflections. +They were on the floor now, and it was beginning to creep upon him like +a chill wind that the scenario which he had mapped out was subject to +unforeseen alterations. + +At first all had been well. They had been almost alone on the floor, +and he had begun moving his feet along dotted line A B with the smooth +vim which had characterized the last few of his course of lessons. And +then, as if by magic, he was in the midst of a crowd--a mad, jigging +crowd that seemed to have no sense of direction, no ability whatever to +keep out of his way. For a moment the tuition of weeks stood by him. +Then, a shock, a stifled cry from Minnie, and the first collision had +occurred. And with that all the knowledge which he had so painfully +acquired passed from Henry's mind, leaving it an agitated blank. This +was a situation for which his slidings round an empty room had not +prepared him. Stage-fright at its worst came upon him. Somebody charged +him in the back and asked querulously where he thought he was going. As +he turned with a half-formed notion of apologizing, somebody else +rammed him from the other side. He had a momentary feeling as if he +were going down the Niagara Rapids in a barrel, and then he was lying +on the floor with Minnie on top of him. Somebody tripped over his head. + +He sat up. Somebody helped him to his feet. He was aware of Sidney +Mercer at his side. + +'Do it again,' said Sidney, all grin and sleek immaculateness. 'It went +down big, but lots of them didn't see it.' + +The place was full of demon laughter. + + * * * * * + +'Min!' said Henry. + +They were in the parlour of their little flat. Her back was towards +him, and he could not see her face. She did not answer. She preserved +the silence which she had maintained since they had left the +restaurant. Not once during the journey home had she spoken. + +The clock on the mantelpiece ticked on. Outside an Elevated train +rumbled by. Voices came from the street. + +'Min, I'm sorry.' + +Silence. + +'I thought I could do it. Oh, Lord!' Misery was in every note of +Henry's voice. 'I've been taking lessons every day since that night we +went to that place first. It's no good--I guess it's like the old woman +said. I've got two left feet, and it's no use my ever trying to do it. +I kept it secret from you, what I was doing. I wanted it to be a +wonderful surprise for you on your birthday. I knew how sick and tired +you were getting of being married to a man who never took you out, +because he couldn't dance. I thought it was up to me to learn, and give +you a good time, like other men's wives. I--' + +'Henry!' + +She had turned, and with a dull amazement he saw that her whole face +had altered. Her eyes were shining with a radiant happiness. + +'Henry! Was _that_ why you went to that house--to take dancing +lessons?' + +He stared at her without speaking. She came to him, laughing. + +'So that was why you pretended you were still doing your walks?' + +'You knew!' + +'I saw you come out of that house. I was just going to the station at +the end of the street, and I saw you. There was a girl with you, a girl +with yellow hair. You hugged her!' + +Henry licked his dry lips. + +'Min,' he said huskily. 'You won't believe it, but she was trying to +teach me the Jelly Roll.' + +She held him by the lapels of his coat. + +'Of course I believe it. I understand it all now. I thought at the time +that you were just saying good-bye to her! Oh, Henry, why ever didn't +you tell me what you were doing? Oh, yes, I know you wanted it to be a +surprise for me on my birthday, but you must have seen there was +something wrong. You must have seen that I thought something. Surely +you noticed how I've been these last weeks?' + +'I thought it was just that you were finding it dull.' + +'Dull! Here, with you!' + +'It was after you danced that night with Sidney Mercer. I thought the +whole thing out. You're so much younger than I, Min. It didn't seem +right for you to have to spend your life being read to by a fellow like +me.' + +'But I loved it!' + +'You had to dance. Every girl has to. Women can't do without it.' + +'This one can. Henry, listen! You remember how ill and worn out I was +when you met me first at that farm? Do you know why it was? It was +because I had been slaving away for years at one of those places where +you go in and pay five cents to dance with the lady instructresses. I +was a lady instructress. Henry! Just think what I went through! Every +day having to drag a million heavy men with large feet round a big +room. I tell you, you are a professional compared with some of them! +They trod on my feet and leaned their two hundred pounds on me and +nearly killed me. Now perhaps you can understand why I'm not crazy +about dancing! Believe me, Henry, the kindest thing you can do to me is +to tell me I must never dance again.' + +'You--you--' he gulped. 'Do you really mean that you can--can stand the +sort of life we're living here? You really don't find it dull?' + +'Dull!' + +She ran to the bookshelf, and came back with a large volume. + +'Read to me, Henry, dear. Read me something now. It seems ages and ages +since you used to. Read me something out of the _Encyclopaedia_!' + +Henry was looking at the book in his hand. In the midst of a joy that +almost overwhelmed him, his orderly mind was conscious of something +wrong. + +'But this is the MED-MUM volume, darling.' + +'Is it? Well, that'll be all right. Read me all about "Mum".' + +'But we're only in the CAL-CHA--' He wavered. 'Oh, well--I' he went on, +recklessly. 'I don't care. Do you?' + +'No. Sit down here, dear, and I'll sit on the floor.' + +Henry cleared his throat. + +'"Milicz, or Militsch (d. 1374), Bohemian divine, was the most +influential among those preachers and writers in Moravia and Bohemia +who, during the fourteenth century, in a certain sense paved the way +for the reforming activity of Huss."' + +He looked down. Minnie's soft hair was resting against his knee. He put +out a hand and stroked it. She turned and looked up, and he met her big +eyes. + +'Can you beat it?' said Henry, silently, to himself. + + + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Man with Two Left Feet, by P. G. Wodehouse + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN WITH TWO LEFT FEET *** + +***** This file should be named 7471.txt or 7471.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/7/4/7/7471/ + +Produced by Suzanne L. Shell, 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: The Man With Two Left Feet + And Other Stories + +Author: P. G. Wodehouse + +Release Date: February, 2005 [EBook #7471] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on May 6, 2003] +[Date last updated: October 19, 2004] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN WITH TWO LEFT FEET *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne L. Shell, Charles Franks +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + + +THE MAN WITH TWO LEFT FEET + +_and Other Stories_ + + + + +by P. G. WODEHOUSE + +1917 + + + + + +CONTENTS + + +BILL THE BLOODHOUND + +EXTRICATING YOUNG GUSSIE + +WILTON'S HOLIDAY + +THE MIXER--I + +THE MIXER--II + +CROWNED HEADS + +AT GEISENHEIMER'S + +THE MAKING OF MAC'S + +ONE TOUCH OF NATURE + +BLACK FOR LUCK + +THE ROMANCE OF AN UGLY POLICEMAN + +A SEA OF TROUBLES + +THE MAN WITH TWO LEFT FEET + + + + +BILL THE BLOODHOUND + + +There's a divinity that shapes our ends. Consider the case of Henry +Pifield Rice, detective. + +I must explain Henry early, to avoid disappointment. If I simply said +he was a detective, and let it go at that, I should be obtaining the +reader's interest under false pretences. He was really only a sort of +detective, a species of sleuth. At Stafford's International +Investigation Bureau, in the Strand, where he was employed, they did +not require him to solve mysteries which had baffled the police. He had +never measured a footprint in his life, and what he did not know about +bloodstains would have filled a library. The sort of job they gave +Henry was to stand outside a restaurant in the rain, and note what time +someone inside left it. In short, it is not 'Pifield Rice, +Investigator. No. 1.--The Adventure of the Maharajah's Ruby' that I +submit to your notice, but the unsensational doings of a quite +commonplace young man, variously known to his comrades at the Bureau as +'Fathead', 'That blighter what's-his-name', and 'Here, you!' + +Henry lived in a boarding-house in Guildford Street. One day a new girl +came to the boarding-house, and sat next to Henry at meals. Her name +was Alice Weston. She was small and quiet, and rather pretty. They got +on splendidly. Their conversation, at first confined to the weather and +the moving-pictures, rapidly became more intimate. Henry was surprised +to find that she was on the stage, in the chorus. Previous chorus-girls +at the boarding-house had been of a more pronounced type--good girls, +but noisy, and apt to wear beauty-spots. Alice Weston was different. + +'I'm rehearsing at present,' she said. 'I'm going out on tour next +month in "The Girl From Brighton". What do you do, Mr Rice?' + +Henry paused for a moment before replying. He knew how sensational he +was going to be. + +'I'm a detective.' + +Usually, when he told girls his profession, squeaks of amazed +admiration greeted him. Now he was chagrined to perceive in the brown +eyes that met his distinct disapproval. + +'What's the matter?' he said, a little anxiously, for even at this +early stage in their acquaintance he was conscious of a strong desire +to win her approval. 'Don't you like detectives?' + +'I don't know. Somehow I shouldn't have thought you were one.' + +This restored Henry's equanimity somewhat. Naturally a detective does +not want to look like a detective and give the whole thing away right +at the start. + +'I think--you won't be offended?' + +'Go on.' + +'I've always looked on it as rather a _sneaky_ job.' + +'Sneaky!' moaned Henry. + +'Well, creeping about, spying on people.' + +Henry was appalled. She had defined his own trade to a nicety. There +might be detectives whose work was above this reproach, but he was a +confirmed creeper, and he knew it. It wasn't his fault. The boss told +him to creep, and he crept. If he declined to creep, he would be sacked +_instanter_. It was hard, and yet he felt the sting of her words, +and in his bosom the first seeds of dissatisfaction with his occupation +took root. + +You might have thought that this frankness on the girl's part would +have kept Henry from falling in love with her. Certainly the dignified +thing would have been to change his seat at table, and take his meals +next to someone who appreciated the romance of detective work a little +more. But no, he remained where he was, and presently Cupid, who never +shoots with a surer aim than through the steam of boarding-house hash, +sniped him where he sat. + +He proposed to Alice Weston. She refused him. + +'It's not because I'm not fond of you. I think you're the nicest man I +ever met.' A good deal of assiduous attention had enabled Henry to win +this place in her affections. He had worked patiently and well before +actually putting his fortune to the test. 'I'd marry you tomorrow if +things were different. But I'm on the stage, and I mean to stick there. +Most of the girls want to get off it, but not me. And one thing I'll +never do is marry someone who isn't in the profession. My sister +Genevieve did, and look what happened to her. She married a commercial +traveller, and take it from me he travelled. She never saw him for more +than five minutes in the year, except when he was selling gent's +hosiery in the same town where she was doing her refined speciality, +and then he'd just wave his hand and whiz by, and start travelling +again. My husband has got to be close by, where I can see him. I'm +sorry, Henry, but I know I'm right.' + +It seemed final, but Henry did not wholly despair. He was a resolute +young man. You have to be to wait outside restaurants in the rain for +any length of time. + +He had an inspiration. He sought out a dramatic agent. + +'I want to go on the stage, in musical comedy.' + +'Let's see you dance.' + +'I can't dance.' + +'Sing,' said the agent. 'Stop singing,' added the agent, hastily. + +'You go away and have a nice cup of hot tea,' said the agent, +soothingly, 'and you'll be as right as anything in the morning.' + +Henry went away. + +A few days later, at the Bureau, his fellow-detective Simmonds hailed +him. + +'Here, you! The boss wants you. Buck up!' + +Mr Stafford was talking into the telephone. He replaced the receiver as +Henry entered. + +'Oh, Rice, here's a woman wants her husband shadowed while he's on the +road. He's an actor. I'm sending you. Go to this address, and get +photographs and all particulars. You'll have to catch the eleven +o'clock train on Friday.' + +'Yes, sir.' + +'He's in "The Girl From Brighton" company. They open at Bristol.' + +It sometimes seemed to Henry as if Fate did it on purpose. If the +commission had had to do with any other company, it would have been +well enough, for, professionally speaking, it was the most important +with which he had ever been entrusted. If he had never met Alice +Weston, and heard her views upon detective work, he would have been +pleased and flattered. Things being as they were, it was Henry's +considered opinion that Fate had slipped one over on him. + +In the first place, what torture to be always near her, unable to +reveal himself; to watch her while she disported herself in the company +of other men. He would be disguised, and she would not recognize him; +but he would recognize her, and his sufferings would be dreadful. + +In the second place, to have to do his creeping about and spying +practically in her presence-- + +Still, business was business. + +At five minutes to eleven on the morning named he was at the station, a +false beard and spectacles shielding his identity from the public eye. +If you had asked him he would have said that he was a Scotch business +man. As a matter of fact, he looked far more like a motor-car coming +through a haystack. + +The platform was crowded. Friends of the company had come to see the +company off. Henry looked on discreetly from behind a stout porter, +whose bulk formed a capital screen. In spite of himself, he was +impressed. The stage at close quarters always thrilled him. He +recognized celebrities. The fat man in the brown suit was Walter +Jelliffe, the comedian and star of the company. He stared keenly at him +through the spectacles. Others of the famous were scattered about. He +saw Alice. She was talking to a man with a face like a hatchet, and +smiling, too, as if she enjoyed it. Behind the matted foliage which he +had inflicted on his face, Henry's teeth came together with a snap. + +In the weeks that followed, as he dogged 'The Girl From Brighton' +company from town to town, it would be difficult to say whether Henry +was happy or unhappy. On the one hand, to realize that Alice was so +near and yet so inaccessible was a constant source of misery; yet, on +the other, he could not but admit that he was having the very dickens +of a time, loafing round the country like this. + +He was made for this sort of life, he considered. Fate had placed him +in a London office, but what he really enjoyed was this unfettered +travel. Some gipsy strain in him rendered even the obvious discomforts +of theatrical touring agreeable. He liked catching trains; he liked +invading strange hotels; above all, he revelled in the artistic +pleasure of watching unsuspecting fellow-men as if they were so many +ants. + +That was really the best part of the whole thing. It was all very well +for Alice to talk about creeping and spying, but, if you considered it +without bias, there was nothing degrading about it at all. It was an +art. It took brains and a genius for disguise to make a man a +successful creeper and spyer. You couldn't simply say to yourself, 'I +will creep.' If you attempted to do it in your own person, you would be +detected instantly. You had to be an adept at masking your personality. +You had to be one man at Bristol and another quite different man at +Hull--especially if, like Henry, you were of a gregarious disposition, +and liked the society of actors. + +The stage had always fascinated Henry. To meet even minor members of +the profession off the boards gave him a thrill. There was a resting +juvenile, of fit-up calibre, at his boarding-house who could always get +a shilling out of him simply by talking about how he had jumped in and +saved the show at the hamlets which he had visited in the course of his +wanderings. And on this 'Girl From Brighton' tour he was in constant +touch with men who really amounted to something. Walter Jelliffe had +been a celebrity when Henry was going to school; and Sidney Crane, the +baritone, and others of the lengthy cast, were all players not unknown +in London. Henry courted them assiduously. + +It had not been hard to scrape acquaintance with them. The principals +of the company always put up at the best hotel, and--his expenses being +paid by his employer--so did Henry. It was the easiest thing possible +to bridge with a well-timed whisky-and-soda the gulf between +non-acquaintance and warm friendship. Walter Jelliffe, in particular, +was peculiarly accessible. Every time Henry accosted him--as a +different individual, of course--and renewed in a fresh disguise the +friendship which he had enjoyed at the last town, Walter Jelliffe met +him more than half-way. + +It was in the sixth week of the tour that the comedian, promoting him +from mere casual acquaintanceship, invited him to come up to his room +and smoke a cigar. + +Henry was pleased and flattered. Jelliffe was a personage, always +surrounded by admirers, and the compliment was consequently of a high +order. + +He lit his cigar. Among his friends at the Green-Room Club it was +unanimously held that Walter Jelliffe's cigars brought him within the +scope of the law forbidding the carrying of concealed weapons; but +Henry would have smoked the gift of such a man if it had been a +cabbage-leaf. He puffed away contentedly. He was made up as an old +Indian colonel that week, and he complimented his host on the aroma +with a fine old-world courtesy. + +Walter Jelliffe seemed gratified. + +'Quite comfortable?' he asked. + +'Quite, I thank you,' said Henry, fondling his silver moustache. + +'That's right. And now tell me, old man, which of us is it you're +trailing?' + +Henry nearly swallowed his cigar. + +'What do you mean?' + +'Oh, come,' protested Jelliffe; 'there's no need to keep it up with me. +I know you're a detective. The question is, Who's the man you're after? +That's what we've all been wondering all this time.' + +All! They had all been wondering! It was worse than Henry could have +imagined. Till now he had pictured his position with regard to 'The +Girl From Brighton' company rather as that of some scientist who, +seeing but unseen, keeps a watchful eye on the denizens of a drop of +water under his microscope. And they had all detected him--every one of +them. + +It was a stunning blow. If there was one thing on which Henry prided +himself it was the impenetrability of his disguises. He might be slow; +he might be on the stupid side; but he could disguise himself. He had a +variety of disguises, each designed to befog the public more hopelessly +than the last. + +Going down the street, you would meet a typical commercial traveller, +dapper and alert. Anon, you encountered a heavily bearded Australian. +Later, maybe, it was a courteous old retired colonel who stopped you +and inquired the way to Trafalgar Square. Still later, a rather flashy +individual of the sporting type asked you for a match for his cigar. +Would you have suspected for one instant that each of these widely +differing personalities was in reality one man? + +Certainly you would. + +Henry did not know it, but he had achieved in the eyes of the small +servant who answered the front-door bell at his boarding-house a +well-established reputation as a humorist of the more practical kind. +It was his habit to try his disguises on her. He would ring the bell, +inquire for the landlady, and when Bella had gone, leap up the stairs +to his room. Here he would remove the disguise, resume his normal +appearance, and come downstairs again, humming a careless air. Bella, +meanwhile, in the kitchen, would be confiding to her ally the cook that +'Mr Rice had jest come in, lookin' sort o' funny again'. + +He sat and gaped at Walter Jelliffe. The comedian regarded him +curiously. + +'You look at least a hundred years old,' he said. 'What are you made up +as? A piece of Gorgonzola?' + +Henry glanced hastily at the mirror. Yes, he did look rather old. He +must have overdone some of the lines on his forehead. He looked +something between a youngish centenarian and a nonagenarian who had +seen a good deal of trouble. + +'If you knew how you were demoralizing the company,' Jelliffe went on, +'you would drop it. As steady and quiet a lot of boys as ever you met +till you came along. Now they do nothing but bet on what disguise +you're going to choose for the next town. I don't see why you need to +change so often. You were all right as the Scotchman at Bristol. We +were all saying how nice you looked. You should have stuck to that. But +what do you do at Hull but roll in in a scrubby moustache and a tweed +suit, looking rotten. However, all that is beside the point. It's a +free country. If you like to spoil your beauty, I suppose there's no +law against it. What I want to know is, who's the man? Whose track are +you sniffing on, Bill? You'll pardon my calling you Bill. You're known +as Bill the Bloodhound in the company. Who's the man?' + +'Never mind,' said Henry. + +He was aware, as he made it, that it was not a very able retort, but he +was feeling too limp for satisfactory repartee. Criticisms in the +Bureau, dealing with his alleged solidity of skull, he did not resent. +He attributed them to man's natural desire to chaff his fellow-man. But +to be unmasked by the general public in this way was another matter. It +struck at the root of all things. + +'But I do mind,' objected Jelliffe. 'It's most important. A lot of +money hangs on it. We've got a sweepstake on in the company, the holder +of the winning name to take the entire receipts. Come on. Who is he?' + +Henry rose and made for the door. His feelings were too deep for words. +Even a minor detective has his professional pride; and the knowledge +that his espionage is being made the basis of sweepstakes by his quarry +cuts this to the quick. + +'Here, don't go! Where are you going?' + +'Back to London,' said Henry, bitterly. 'It's a lot of good my staying +here now, isn't it?' + +'I should say it was--to me. Don't be in a hurry. You're thinking that, +now we know all about you, your utility as a sleuth has waned to some +extent. Is that it?' + +'Well?' + +'Well, why worry? What does it matter to you? You don't get paid by +results, do you? Your boss said "Trail along." Well, do it, then. I +should hate to lose you. I don't suppose you know it, but you've been +the best mascot this tour that I've ever come across. Right from the +start we've been playing to enormous business. I'd rather kill a black +cat than lose you. Drop the disguises, and stay with us. Come behind +all you want, and be sociable.' + +A detective is only human. The less of a detective, the more human he +is. Henry was not much of a detective, and his human traits were +consequently highly developed. From a boy, he had never been able to +resist curiosity. If a crowd collected in the street he always added +himself to it, and he would have stopped to gape at a window with +'Watch this window' written on it, if he had been running for his life +from wild bulls. He was, and always had been, intensely desirous of +some day penetrating behind the scenes of a theatre. + +And there was another thing. At last, if he accepted this invitation, +he would be able to see and speak to Alice Weston, and interfere with +the manoeuvres of the hatchet-faced man, on whom he had brooded with +suspicion and jealousy since that first morning at the station. To see +Alice! Perhaps, with eloquence, to talk her out of that ridiculous +resolve of hers! + +'Why, there's something in that,' he said. + +'Rather! Well, that's settled. And now, touching that sweep, who +_is_ it?' + +'I can't tell you that. You see, so far as that goes, I'm just where I +was before. I can still watch--whoever it is I'm watching.' + +'Dash it, so you can. I didn't think of that,' said Jelliffe, who +possessed a sensitive conscience. 'Purely between ourselves, it isn't +_me_, is it?' + +Henry eyed him inscrutably. He could look inscrutable at times. + +'Ah!' he said, and left quickly, with the feeling that, however poorly +he had shown up during the actual interview, his exit had been good. He +might have been a failure in the matter of disguise, but nobody could +have put more quiet sinister-ness into that 'Ah!' It did much to soothe +him and ensure a peaceful night's rest. + +On the following night, for the first time in his life, Henry found +himself behind the scenes of a theatre, and instantly began to +experience all the complex emotions which come to the layman in that +situation. That is to say, he felt like a cat which has strayed into a +strange hostile back-yard. He was in a new world, inhabited by weird +creatures, who flitted about in an eerie semi-darkness, like brightly +coloured animals in a cavern. + +'The Girl From Brighton' was one of those exotic productions specially +designed for the Tired Business Man. It relied for a large measure of +its success on the size and appearance of its chorus, and on their +constant change of costume. Henry, as a consequence, was the centre of +a kaleidoscopic whirl of feminine loveliness, dressed to represent +such varying flora and fauna as rabbits, Parisian students, colleens, +Dutch peasants, and daffodils. Musical comedy is the Irish stew of the +drama. Anything may be put into it, with the certainty that it will +improve the general effect. + +He scanned the throng for a sight of Alice. Often as he had seen the +piece in the course of its six weeks' wandering in the wilderness he +had never succeeded in recognizing her from the front of the house. +Quite possibly, he thought, she might be on the stage already, hidden +in a rose-tree or some other shrub, ready at the signal to burst forth +upon the audience in short skirts; for in 'The Girl From Brighton' +almost anything could turn suddenly into a chorus-girl. + +Then he saw her, among the daffodils. She was not a particularly +convincing daffodil, but she looked good to Henry. With wabbling knees +he butted his way through the crowd and seized her hand +enthusiastically. + +'Why, Henry! Where did you come from?' + +'I _am_ glad to see you!' + +'How did you get here?' + +'I _am_ glad to see you!' + +At this point the stage-manager, bellowing from the prompt-box, urged +Henry to desist. It is one of the mysteries of behind-the-scenes +acoustics that a whisper from any minor member of the company can be +heard all over the house, while the stage-manager can burst himself +without annoying the audience. + +Henry, awed by authority, relapsed into silence. From the unseen stage +came the sound of someone singing a song about the moon. June was also +mentioned. He recognized the song as one that had always bored him. He +disliked the woman who was singing it--a Miss Clarice Weaver, who +played the heroine of the piece to Sidney Crane's hero. + +In his opinion he was not alone. Miss Weaver was not popular in the +company. She had secured the role rather as a testimony of personal +esteem from the management than because of any innate ability. She sang +badly, acted indifferently, and was uncertain what to do with her +hands. All these things might have been forgiven her, but she +supplemented them by the crime known in stage circles as 'throwing her +weight about'. That is to say, she was hard to please, and, when not +pleased, apt to say so in no uncertain voice. To his personal friends +Walter Jelliffe had frequently confided that, though not a rich man, he +was in the market with a substantial reward for anyone who was man +enough to drop a ton of iron on Miss Weaver. + +Tonight the song annoyed Henry more than usual, for he knew that very +soon the daffodils were due on the stage to clinch the verisimilitude +of the scene by dancing the tango with the rabbits. He endeavoured to +make the most of the time at his disposal. + +'I _am_ glad to see you!' he said. + +'Sh-h!' said the stage-manager. + +Henry was discouraged. Romeo could not have made love under these +conditions. And then, just when he was pulling himself together to +begin again, she was torn from him by the exigencies of the play. + +He wandered moodily off into the dusty semi-darkness. He avoided the +prompt-box, whence he could have caught a glimpse of her, being loath +to meet the stage-manager just at present. + +Walter Jelliffe came up to him, as he sat on a box and brooded on life. + +'A little less of the double forte, old man,' he said. 'Miss Weaver has +been kicking about the noise on the side. She wanted you thrown out, +but I said you were my mascot, and I would die sooner than part with +you. But I should go easy on the chest-notes, I think, all the same.' + +Henry nodded moodily. He was depressed. He had the feeling, which comes +so easily to the intruder behind the scenes, that nobody loved him. + +The piece proceeded. From the front of the house roars of laughter +indicated the presence on the stage of Walter Jelliffe, while now and +then a lethargic silence suggested that Miss Clarice Weaver was in +action. From time to time the empty space about him filled with girls +dressed in accordance with the exuberant fancy of the producer of the +piece. When this happened, Henry would leap from his seat and endeavour +to locate Alice; but always, just as he thought he had done so, the +hidden orchestra would burst into melody and the chorus would be called +to the front. + +It was not till late in the second act that he found an opportunity for +further speech. + +The plot of 'The Girl From Brighton' had by then reached a critical +stage. The situation was as follows: The hero, having been disinherited +by his wealthy and titled father for falling in love with the heroine, +a poor shop-girl, has disguised himself (by wearing a different +coloured necktie) and has come in pursuit of her to a well-known +seaside resort, where, having disguised herself by changing her dress, +she is serving as a waitress in the Rotunda, on the Esplanade. The +family butler, disguised as a Bath-chair man, has followed the hero, +and the wealthy and titled father, disguised as an Italian +opera-singer, has come to the place for a reason which, though +extremely sound, for the moment eludes the memory. Anyhow, he is there, +and they all meet on the Esplanade. Each recognizes the other, but +thinks he himself is unrecognized. _Exeunt_ all, hurriedly, +leaving the heroine alone on the stage. + +It is a crisis in the heroine's life. She meets it bravely. She sings a +song entitled 'My Honolulu Queen', with chorus of Japanese girls and +Bulgarian officers. + +Alice was one of the Japanese girls. + +She was standing a little apart from the other Japanese girls. Henry +was on her with a bound. Now was his time. He felt keyed up, full of +persuasive words. In the interval which had elapsed since their last +conversation yeasty emotions had been playing the dickens with his +self-control. It is practically impossible for a novice, suddenly +introduced behind the scenes of a musical comedy, not to fall in love +with somebody; and, if he is already in love, his fervour is increased +to a dangerous point. + +Henry felt that it was now or never. He forgot that it was perfectly +possible--indeed, the reasonable course--to wait till the performance +was over, and renew his appeal to Alice to marry him on the way back to +her hotel. He had the feeling that he had got just about a quarter of a +minute. Quick action! That was Henry's slogan. + +He seized her hand. + +'Alice!' + +'Sh-h!' hissed the stage-manager. + +'Listen! I love you. I'm crazy about you. What does it matter whether +I'm on the stage or not? I love you.' + +'Stop that row there!' + +'Won't you marry me?' + +She looked at him. It seemed to him that she hesitated. + +'Cut it out!' bellowed the stage-manager, and Henry cut it out. + +And at this moment, when his whole fate hung in the balance, there came +from the stage that devastating high note which is the sign that the +solo is over and that the chorus are now about to mobilize. As if drawn +by some magnetic power, she suddenly receded from him, and went on to +the stage. + +A man in Henry's position and frame of mind is not responsible for his +actions. He saw nothing but her; he was blind to the fact that +important manoeuvres were in progress. All he understood was that she +was going from him, and that he must stop her and get this thing +settled. + +He clutched at her. She was out of range, and getting farther away +every instant. + +He sprang forward. + +The advice that should be given to every young man starting life is--if +you happen to be behind the scenes at a theatre, never spring forward. +The whole architecture of the place is designed to undo those who so +spring. Hours before, the stage-carpenters have laid their traps, and +in the semi-darkness you cannot but fall into them. + +The trap into which Henry fell was a raised board. It was not a very +highly-raised board. It was not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a +church-door, but 'twas enough--it served. Stubbing it squarely with his +toe, Henry shot forward, all arms and legs. + +It is the instinct of Man, in such a situation, to grab at the nearest +support. Henry grabbed at the Hotel Superba, the pride of the +Esplanade. It was a thin wooden edifice, and it supported him for +perhaps a tenth of a second. Then he staggered with it into the +limelight, tripped over a Bulgarian officer who was inflating himself +for a deep note, and finally fell in a complicated heap as exactly in +the centre of the stage as if he had been a star of years' standing. + +It went well; there was no question of that. Previous audiences had +always been rather cold towards this particular song, but this one got +on its feet and yelled for more. From all over the house came rapturous +demands that Henry should go back and do it again. + +But Henry was giving no encores. He rose to his feet, a little stunned, +and automatically began to dust his clothes. The orchestra, unnerved by +this unrehearsed infusion of new business, had stopped playing. +Bulgarian officers and Japanese girls alike seemed unequal to the +situation. They stood about, waiting for the next thing to break loose. +From somewhere far away came faintly the voice of the stage-manager +inventing new words, new combinations of words, and new throat noises. + +And then Henry, massaging a stricken elbow, was aware of Miss Weaver at +his side. Looking up, he caught Miss Weaver's eye. + +A familiar stage-direction of melodrama reads, 'Exit cautious through +gap in hedge'. It was Henry's first appearance on any stage, but he did +it like a veteran. + +'My dear fellow,' said Walter Jelliffe. The hour was midnight, and he +was sitting in Henry's bedroom at the hotel. Leaving the theatre, Henry +had gone to bed almost instinctively. Bed seemed the only haven for +him. 'My dear fellow, don't apologize. You have put me under lasting +obligations. In the first place, with your unerring sense of the stage, +you saw just the spot where the piece needed livening up, and you +livened it up. That was good; but far better was it that you also sent +our Miss Weaver into violent hysterics, from which she emerged to hand +in her notice. She leaves us tomorrow.' + +Henry was appalled at the extent of the disaster for which he was +responsible. + +'What will you do?' + +'Do! Why, it's what we have all been praying for--a miracle which +should eject Miss Weaver. It needed a genius like you to come to bring +it off. Sidney Crane's wife can play the part without rehearsal. She +understudied it all last season in London. Crane has just been speaking +to her on the phone, and she is catching the night express.' + +Henry sat up in bed. + +'What!' + +'What's the trouble now?' + +'Sidney Crane's wife?' + +'What about her?' + +A bleakness fell upon Henry's soul. + +'She was the woman who was employing me. Now I shall be taken off the +job and have to go back to London.' + +'You don't mean that it was really Crane's wife?' + +Jelliffe was regarding him with a kind of awe. + +'Laddie,' he said, in a hushed voice, 'you almost scare me. There seems +to be no limit to your powers as a mascot. You fill the house every +night, you get rid of the Weaver woman, and now you tell me this. I +drew Crane in the sweep, and I would have taken twopence for my chance +of winning it.' + +'I shall get a telegram from my boss tomorrow recalling me.' + +'Don't go. Stick with me. Join the troupe.' + +Henry stared. + +'What do you mean? I can't sing or act.' + +Jelliffe's voice thrilled with earnestness. + +'My boy, I can go down the Strand and pick up a hundred fellows who can +sing and act. I don't want them. I turn them away. But a seventh son of +a seventh son like you, a human horseshoe like you, a king of mascots +like you--they don't make them nowadays. They've lost the pattern. If +you like to come with me I'll give you a contract for any number of +years you suggest. I need you in my business.' He rose. 'Think it over, +laddie, and let me know tomorrow. Look here upon this picture, and on +that. As a sleuth you are poor. You couldn't detect a bass-drum in a +telephone-booth. You have no future. You are merely among those +present. But as a mascot--my boy, you're the only thing in sight. You +can't help succeeding on the stage. You don't have to know how to act. +Look at the dozens of good actors who are out of jobs. Why? Unlucky. No +other reason. With your luck and a little experience you'll be a star +before you know you've begun. Think it over, and let me know in the +morning.' + +Before Henry's eyes there rose a sudden vision of Alice: Alice no +longer unattainable; Alice walking on his arm down the aisle; Alice +mending his socks; Alice with her heavenly hands fingering his salary +envelope. + +'Don't go,' he said. 'Don't go. I'll let you know now.' + + * * * * * + +The scene is the Strand, hard by Bedford Street; the time, that restful +hour of the afternoon when they of the gnarled faces and the bright +clothing gather together in groups to tell each other how good they +are. + +Hark! A voice. + +'Rather! Courtneidge and the Guv'nor keep on trying to get me, but I +turn them down every time. "No," I said to Malone only yesterday, "not +for me! I'm going with old Wally Jelliffe, the same as usual, and there +isn't the money in the Mint that'll get me away." Malone got all worked +up. He--' + +It is the voice of Pifield Rice, actor. + + + + +EXTRICATING YOUNG GUSSIE + + +She sprang it on me before breakfast. There in seven words you have a +complete character sketch of my Aunt Agatha. I could go on indefinitely +about brutality and lack of consideration. I merely say that she routed +me out of bed to listen to her painful story somewhere in the small +hours. It can't have been half past eleven when Jeeves, my man, woke me +out of the dreamless and broke the news: + +'Mrs Gregson to see you, sir.' + +I thought she must be walking in her sleep, but I crawled out of bed +and got into a dressing-gown. I knew Aunt Agatha well enough to know +that, if she had come to see me, she was going to see me. That's the +sort of woman she is. + +She was sitting bolt upright in a chair, staring into space. When I +came in she looked at me in that darn critical way that always makes me +feel as if I had gelatine where my spine ought to be. Aunt Agatha is +one of those strong-minded women. I should think Queen Elizabeth must +have been something like her. She bosses her husband, Spencer Gregson, +a battered little chappie on the Stock Exchange. She bosses my cousin, +Gussie Mannering-Phipps. She bosses her sister-in-law, Gussie's mother. +And, worst of all, she bosses me. She has an eye like a man-eating +fish, and she has got moral suasion down to a fine point. + +I dare say there are fellows in the world--men of blood and iron, don't +you know, and all that sort of thing--whom she couldn't intimidate; but +if you're a chappie like me, fond of a quiet life, you simply curl into +a ball when you see her coming, and hope for the best. My experience is +that when Aunt Agatha wants you to do a thing you do it, or else you +find yourself wondering why those fellows in the olden days made such a +fuss when they had trouble with the Spanish Inquisition. + +'Halloa, Aunt Agatha!' I said + +'Bertie,' she said, 'you look a sight. You look perfectly dissipated.' + +I was feeling like a badly wrapped brown-paper parcel. I'm never at my +best in the early morning. I said so. + +'Early morning! I had breakfast three hours ago, and have been walking +in the park ever since, trying to compose my thoughts.' + +If I ever breakfasted at half past eight I should walk on the +Embankment, trying to end it all in a watery grave. + +'I am extremely worried, Bertie. That is why I have come to you.' + +And then I saw she was going to start something, and I bleated weakly +to Jeeves to bring me tea. But she had begun before I could get it. + +'What are your immediate plans, Bertie?' + +'Well, I rather thought of tottering out for a bite of lunch later on, +and then possibly staggering round to the club, and after that, if I +felt strong enough, I might trickle off to Walton Heath for a round of +golf.' + +I am not interested in your totterings and tricklings. I mean, have you +any important engagements in the next week or so?' + +I scented danger. + +'Rather,' I said. 'Heaps! Millions! Booked solid!' + +'What are they?' + +'I--er--well, I don't quite know.' + +'I thought as much. You have no engagements. Very well, then, I want +you to start immediately for America.' + +'America!' + +Do not lose sight of the fact that all this was taking place on an +empty stomach, shortly after the rising of the lark. + +'Yes, America. I suppose even you have heard of America?' + +'But why America?' + +'Because that is where your Cousin Gussie is. He is in New York, and I +can't get at him.' + +'What's Gussie been doing?' + +'Gussie is making a perfect idiot of himself.' + +To one who knew young Gussie as well as I did, the words opened up a +wide field for speculation. + +'In what way?' + +'He has lost his head over a creature.' + +On past performances this rang true. Ever since he arrived at man's +estate Gussie had been losing his head over creatures. He's that sort +of chap. But, as the creatures never seemed to lose their heads over +him, it had never amounted to much. + +'I imagine you know perfectly well why Gussie went to America, Bertie. +You know how wickedly extravagant your Uncle Cuthbert was.' + +She alluded to Gussie's governor, the late head of the family, and I am +bound to say she spoke the truth. Nobody was fonder of old Uncle +Cuthbert than I was, but everybody knows that, where money was +concerned, he was the most complete chump in the annals of the nation. +He had an expensive thirst. He never backed a horse that didn't get +housemaid's knee in the middle of the race. He had a system of beating +the bank at Monte Carlo which used to make the administration hang out +the bunting and ring the joy-bells when he was sighted in the offing. +Take him for all in all, dear old Uncle Cuthbert was as willing a +spender as ever called the family lawyer a bloodsucking vampire because +he wouldn't let Uncle Cuthbert cut down the timber to raise another +thousand. + +'He left your Aunt Julia very little money for a woman in her +position. Beechwood requires a great deal of keeping up, and +poor dear Spencer, though he does his best to help, has not +unlimited resources. It was clearly understood why Gussie went +to America. He is not clever, but he is very good-looking, and, +though he has no title, the Mannering-Phippses are one of the best +and oldest families in England. He had some excellent letters of +introduction, and when he wrote home to say that he had met the +most charming and beautiful girl in the world I felt quite happy. +He continued to rave about her for several mails, and then this +morning a letter has come from him in which he says, quite casually +as a sort of afterthought, that he knows we are broadminded enough +not to think any the worse of her because she is on the vaudeville +stage.' + +'Oh, I say!' + +'It was like a thunderbolt. The girl's name, it seems, is Ray Denison, +and according to Gussie she does something which he describes as a +single on the big time. What this degraded performance may be I have +not the least notion. As a further recommendation he states that she +lifted them out of their seats at Mosenstein's last week. Who she may +be, and how or why, and who or what Mr Mosenstein may be, I cannot tell +you.' + +'By jove,' I said, 'it's like a sort of thingummybob, isn't it? A sort +of fate, what?' + +'I fail to understand you.' + +'Well, Aunt Julia, you know, don't you know? Heredity, and so forth. +What's bred in the bone will come out in the wash, and all that kind of +thing, you know.' + +'Don't be absurd, Bertie.' + +That was all very well, but it was a coincidence for all that. Nobody +ever mentions it, and the family have been trying to forget it for +twenty-five years, but it's a known fact that my Aunt Julia, Gussie's +mother, was a vaudeville artist once, and a very good one, too, I'm +told. She was playing in pantomime at Drury Lane when Uncle Cuthbert +saw her first. It was before my time, of course, and long before I was +old enough to take notice the family had made the best of it, and Aunt +Agatha had pulled up her socks and put in a lot of educative work, and +with a microscope you couldn't tell Aunt Julia from a genuine +dyed-in-the-wool aristocrat. Women adapt themselves so quickly! + +I have a pal who married Daisy Trimble of the Gaiety, and when I meet +her now I feel like walking out of her presence backwards. But there +the thing was, and you couldn't get away from it. Gussie had vaudeville +blood in him, and it looked as if he were reverting to type, or +whatever they call it. + +'By Jove,' I said, for I am interested in this heredity stuff, 'perhaps +the thing is going to be a regular family tradition, like you read +about in books--a sort of Curse of the Mannering-Phippses, as it were. +Perhaps each head of the family's going to marry into vaudeville for +ever and ever. Unto the what-d'you-call-it generation, don't you know?' + +'Please do not be quite idiotic, Bertie. There is one head of the +family who is certainly not going to do it, and that is Gussie. And you +are going to America to stop him.' + +'Yes, but why me?' + +'Why you? You are too vexing, Bertie. Have you no sort of feeling for +the family? You are too lazy to try to be a credit to yourself, but at +least you can exert yourself to prevent Gussie's disgracing us. You are +going to America because you are Gussie's cousin, because you have +always been his closest friend, because you are the only one of the +family who has absolutely nothing to occupy his time except golf and +night clubs.' + +'I play a lot of auction.' + +'And as you say, idiotic gambling in low dens. If you require another +reason, you are going because I ask you as a personal favour.' + +What she meant was that, if I refused, she would exert the full bent of +her natural genius to make life a Hades for me. She held me with her +glittering eye. I have never met anyone who can give a better imitation +of the Ancient Mariner. + +'So you will start at once, won't you, Bertie?' + +I didn't hesitate. + +'Rather!' I said. 'Of course I will' + +Jeeves came in with the tea. + +'Jeeves,' I said, 'we start for America on Saturday.' + +'Very good, sir,' he said; 'which suit will you wear?' + +New York is a large city conveniently situated on the edge of America, +so that you step off the liner right on to it without an effort. You +can't lose your way. You go out of a barn and down some stairs, and +there you are, right in among it. The only possible objection any +reasonable chappie could find to the place is that they loose you into +it from the boat at such an ungodly hour. + +I left Jeeves to get my baggage safely past an aggregation of +suspicious-minded pirates who were digging for buried treasures among +my new shirts, and drove to Gussie's hotel, where I requested the squad +of gentlemanly clerks behind the desk to produce him. + +That's where I got my first shock. He wasn't there. I pleaded with them +to think again, and they thought again, but it was no good. No Augustus +Mannering-Phipps on the premises. + +I admit I was hard hit. There I was alone in a strange city and no +signs of Gussie. What was the next step? I am never one of the master +minds in the early morning; the old bean doesn't somehow seem to get +into its stride till pretty late in the p.m.s, and I couldn't think +what to do. However, some instinct took me through a door at the back +of the lobby, and I found myself in a large room with an enormous +picture stretching across the whole of one wall, and under the picture +a counter, and behind the counter divers chappies in white, serving +drinks. They have barmen, don't you know, in New York, not barmaids. +Rum idea! + +I put myself unreservedly into the hands of one of the white chappies. +He was a friendly soul, and I told him the whole state of affairs. I +asked him what he thought would meet the case. + +He said that in a situation of that sort he usually prescribed a +'lightning whizzer', an invention of his own. He said this was what +rabbits trained on when they were matched against grizzly bears, and +there was only one instance on record of the bear having lasted three +rounds. So I tried a couple, and, by Jove! the man was perfectly right. +As I drained the second a great load seemed to fall from my heart, and +I went out in quite a braced way to have a look at the city. + +I was surprised to find the streets quite full. People were bustling +along as if it were some reasonable hour and not the grey dawn. In the +tramcars they were absolutely standing on each other's necks. Going to +business or something, I take it. Wonderful johnnies! + +The odd part of it was that after the first shock of seeing all this +frightful energy the thing didn't seem so strange. I've spoken to +fellows since who have been to New York, and they tell me they found it +just the same. Apparently there's something in the air, either the +ozone or the phosphates or something, which makes you sit up and take +notice. A kind of zip, as it were. A sort of bally freedom, if you know +what I mean, that gets into your blood and bucks you up, and makes you +feel that-- + + _God's in His Heaven: + All's right with the world_, + +and you don't care if you've got odd socks on. I can't express it +better than by saying that the thought uppermost in my mind, as I +walked about the place they call Times Square, was that there were +three thousand miles of deep water between me and my Aunt Agatha. + +It's a funny thing about looking for things. If you hunt for a needle +in a haystack you don't find it. If you don't give a darn whether you +ever see the needle or not it runs into you the first time you lean +against the stack. By the time I had strolled up and down once or +twice, seeing the sights and letting the white chappie's corrective +permeate my system, I was feeling that I wouldn't care if Gussie and I +never met again, and I'm dashed if I didn't suddenly catch sight of the +old lad, as large as life, just turning in at a doorway down the +street. + +I called after him, but he didn't hear me, so I legged it in pursuit +and caught him going into an office on the first floor. The name on the +door was Abe Riesbitter, Vaudeville Agent, and from the other side of +the door came the sound of many voices. + +He turned and stared at me. + +'Bertie! What on earth are you doing? Where have you sprung from? When +did you arrive?' + +'Landed this morning. I went round to your hotel, but they said you +weren't there. They had never heard of you.' + +'I've changed my name. I call myself George Wilson.' + +'Why on earth?' + +'Well, you try calling yourself Augustus Mannering-Phipps over here, +and see how it strikes you. You feel a perfect ass. I don't know what +it is about America, but the broad fact is that it's not a place where +you can call yourself Augustus Mannering-Phipps. And there's another +reason. I'll tell you later. Bertie, I've fallen in love with the +dearest girl in the world.' + +The poor old nut looked at me in such a deuced cat-like way, standing +with his mouth open, waiting to be congratulated, that I simply hadn't +the heart to tell him that I knew all about that already, and had come +over to the country for the express purpose of laying him a stymie. + +So I congratulated him. + +'Thanks awfully, old man,' he said. 'It's a bit premature, but I fancy +it's going to be all right. Come along in here, and I'll tell you about +it.' + +'What do you want in this place? It looks a rummy spot.' + +'Oh, that's part of the story. I'll tell you the whole thing.' + +We opened the door marked 'Waiting Room'. I never saw such a crowded +place in my life. The room was packed till the walls bulged. + +Gussie explained. + +'Pros,' he said, 'music-hall artistes, you know, waiting to see old Abe +Riesbitter. This is September the first, vaudeville's opening day. The +early fall,' said Gussie, who is a bit of a poet in his way, 'is +vaudeville's springtime. All over the country, as August wanes, +sparkling comediennes burst into bloom, the sap stirs in the veins of +tramp cyclists, and last year's contortionists, waking from their +summer sleep, tie themselves tentatively into knots. What I mean is, +this is the beginning of the new season, and everybody's out hunting +for bookings.' + +'But what do you want here?' + +'Oh, I've just got to see Abe about something. If you see a fat man +with about fifty-seven chins come out of that door there grab him, for +that'll be Abe. He's one of those fellows who advertise each step up +they take in the world by growing another chin. I'm told that way back +in the nineties he only had two. If you do grab Abe, remember that he +knows me as George Wilson.' + +'You said that you were going to explain that George Wilson business to +me, Gussie, old man.' + +'Well, it's this way--' + +At this juncture dear old Gussie broke off short, rose from his seat, +and sprang with indescribable vim at an extraordinarily stout chappie +who had suddenly appeared. There was the deuce of a rush for him, but +Gussie had got away to a good start, and the rest of the singers, +dancers, jugglers, acrobats, and refined sketch teams seemed to +recognize that he had won the trick, for they ebbed back into their +places again, and Gussie and I went into the inner room. + +Mr Riesbitter lit a cigar, and looked at us solemnly over his zareba of +chins. + +'Now, let me tell ya something,' he said to Gussie. 'You lizzun t' me.' + +Gussie registered respectful attention. Mr Riesbitter mused for a +moment and shelled the cuspidor with indirect fire over the edge of the +desk. + +'Lizzun t' me,' he said again. 'I seen you rehearse, as I promised Miss +Denison I would. You ain't bad for an amateur. You gotta lot to learn, +but it's in you. What it comes to is that I can fix you up in the +four-a-day, if you'll take thirty-five per. I can't do better than +that, and I wouldn't have done that if the little lady hadn't of kep' +after me. Take it or leave it. What do you say?' + +'I'll take it,' said Gussie, huskily. 'Thank you.' + +In the passage outside, Gussie gurgled with joy and slapped me on the +back. 'Bertie, old man, it's all right. I'm the happiest man in New +York.' + +'Now what?' + +'Well, you see, as I was telling you when Abe came in, Ray's father +used to be in the profession. He was before our time, but I remember +hearing about him--Joe Danby. He used to be well known in London before +he came over to America. Well, he's a fine old boy, but as obstinate as +a mule, and he didn't like the idea of Ray marrying me because I wasn't +in the profession. Wouldn't hear of it. Well, you remember at Oxford I +could always sing a song pretty well; so Ray got hold of old Riesbitter +and made him promise to come and hear me rehearse and get me bookings +if he liked my work. She stands high with him. She coached me for +weeks, the darling. And now, as you heard him say, he's booked me in +the small time at thirty-five dollars a week.' + +I steadied myself against the wall. The effects of the restoratives +supplied by my pal at the hotel bar were beginning to work off, and I +felt a little weak. Through a sort of mist I seemed to have a vision of +Aunt Agatha hearing that the head of the Mannering-Phippses was about +to appear on the vaudeville stage. Aunt Agatha's worship of the family +name amounts to an obsession. The Mannering-Phippses were an +old-established clan when William the Conqueror was a small boy going +round with bare legs and a catapult. For centuries they have called +kings by their first names and helped dukes with their weekly rent; and +there's practically nothing a Mannering-Phipps can do that doesn't blot +his escutcheon. So what Aunt Agatha would say--beyond saying that it +was all my fault--when she learned the horrid news, it was beyond me to +imagine. + +'Come back to the hotel, Gussie,' I said. 'There's a sportsman there +who mixes things he calls "lightning whizzers". Something tells me I +need one now. And excuse me for one minute, Gussie. I want to send a +cable.' + +It was clear to me by now that Aunt Agatha had picked the wrong man for +this job of disentangling Gussie from the clutches of the American +vaudeville profession. What I needed was reinforcements. For a moment I +thought of cabling Aunt Agatha to come over, but reason told me that +this would be overdoing it. I wanted assistance, but not so badly as +that. I hit what seemed to me the happy mean. I cabled to Gussie's +mother and made it urgent. + +'What were you cabling about?' asked Gussie, later. + +'Oh just to say I had arrived safely, and all that sort of tosh,' I +answered. + + * * * * * + +Gussie opened his vaudeville career on the following Monday at a rummy +sort of place uptown where they had moving pictures some of the time +and, in between, one or two vaudeville acts. It had taken a lot of +careful handling to bring him up to scratch. He seemed to take my +sympathy and assistance for granted, and I couldn't let him down. My +only hope, which grew as I listened to him rehearsing, was that he +would be such a frightful frost at his first appearance that he would +never dare to perform again; and, as that would automatically squash +the marriage, it seemed best to me to let the thing go on. + +He wasn't taking any chances. On the Saturday and Sunday we practically +lived in a beastly little music-room at the offices of the publishers +whose songs he proposed to use. A little chappie with a hooked nose +sucked a cigarette and played the piano all day. Nothing could tire +that lad. He seemed to take a personal interest in the thing. + +Gussie would cleat his throat and begin: + +'There's a great big choo-choo waiting at the deepo.' + +THE CHAPPIE (playing chords): 'Is that so? What's it waiting for?' + +GUSSIE (rather rattled at the interruption): 'Waiting for me.' + +THE CHAPPIE (surprised): For you?' + +GUSSIE (sticking to it): 'Waiting for me-e-ee!' + +THE CHAPPIE (sceptically): 'You don't say!' + +GUSSIE: 'For I'm off to Tennessee.' + +THE CHAPPIE (conceding a point): 'Now, I live at Yonkers.' + +He did this all through the song. At first poor old Gussie asked him to +stop, but the chappie said, No, it was always done. It helped to get +pep into the thing. He appealed to me whether the thing didn't want a +bit of pep, and I said it wanted all the pep it could get. And the +chappie said to Gussie, 'There you are!' So Gussie had to stand it. + +The other song that he intended to sing was one of those moon songs. He +told me in a hushed voice that he was using it because it was one of +the songs that the girl Ray sang when lifting them out of their seats +at Mosenstein's and elsewhere. The fact seemed to give it sacred +associations for him. + +You will scarcely believe me, but the management expected Gussie to +show up and start performing at one o'clock in the afternoon. I told +him they couldn't be serious, as they must know that he would be +rolling out for a bit of lunch at that hour, but Gussie said this was +the usual thing in the four-a-day, and he didn't suppose he would ever +get any lunch again until he landed on the big time. I was just +condoling with him, when I found that he was taking it for granted that +I should be there at one o'clock, too. My idea had been that I should +look in at night, when--if he survived--he would be coming up for the +fourth time; but I've never deserted a pal in distress, so I said +good-bye to the little lunch I'd been planning at a rather decent +tavern I'd discovered on Fifth Avenue, and trailed along. They were +showing pictures when I reached my seat. It was one of those Western +films, where the cowboy jumps on his horse and rides across country at +a hundred and fifty miles an hour to escape the sheriff, not knowing, +poor chump! that he might just as well stay where he is, the sheriff +having a horse of his own which can do three hundred miles an hour +without coughing. I was just going to close my eyes and try to forget +till they put Gussie's name up when I discovered that I was sitting +next to a deucedly pretty girl. + +No, let me be honest. When I went in I had seen that there was a +deucedly pretty girl sitting in that particular seat, so I had taken +the next one. What happened now was that I began, as it were, to drink +her in. I wished they would turn the lights up so that I could see her +better. She was rather small, with great big eyes and a ripping smile. +It was a shame to let all that run to seed, so to speak, in +semi-darkness. + +Suddenly the lights did go up, and the orchestra began to play a tune +which, though I haven't much of an ear for music, seemed somehow +familiar. The next instant out pranced old Gussie from the wings in a +purple frock-coat and a brown top-hat, grinned feebly at the audience, +tripped over his feet blushed, and began to sing the Tennessee song. + +It was rotten. The poor nut had got stage fright so badly that it +practically eliminated his voice. He sounded like some far-off echo of +the past 'yodelling' through a woollen blanket. + +For the first time since I had heard that he was about to go into +vaudeville I felt a faint hope creeping over me. I was sorry for the +wretched chap, of course, but there was no denying that the thing had +its bright side. No management on earth would go on paying thirty-five +dollars a week for this sort of performance. This was going to be +Gussie's first and only. He would have to leave the profession. The old +boy would say, 'Unhand my daughter'. And, with decent luck, I saw +myself leading Gussie on to the next England-bound liner and handing +him over intact to Aunt Agatha. + +He got through the song somehow and limped off amidst roars of silence +from the audience. There was a brief respite, then out he came again. + +He sang this time as if nobody loved him. As a song, it was not a very +pathetic song, being all about coons spooning in June under the moon, +and so on and so forth, but Gussie handled it in such a sad, crushed +way that there was genuine anguish in every line. By the time he +reached the refrain I was nearly in tears. It seemed such a rotten sort +of world with all that kind of thing going on in it. + +He started the refrain, and then the most frightful thing happened. The +girl next to me got up in her seat, chucked her head back, and began to +sing too. I say 'too', but it wasn't really too, because her first note +stopped Gussie dead, as if he had been pole-axed. + +I never felt so bally conspicuous in my life. I huddled down in my seat +and wished I could turn my collar up. Everybody seemed to be looking at +me. + +In the midst of my agony I caught sight of Gussie. A complete change +had taken place in the old lad. He was looking most frightfully bucked. +I must say the girl was singing most awfully well, and it seemed to act +on Gussie like a tonic. When she came to the end of the refrain, he +took it up, and they sang it together, and the end of it was that he +went off the popular hero. The audience yelled for more, and were only +quieted when they turned down the lights and put on a film. + +When I had recovered I tottered round to see Gussie. I found him +sitting on a box behind the stage, looking like one who had seen +visions. + +'Isn't she a wonder, Bertie?' he said, devoutly. 'I hadn't a notion she +was going to be there. She's playing at the Auditorium this week, and +she can only just have had time to get back to her _matinee_. She +risked being late, just to come and see me through. She's my good +angel, Bertie. She saved me. If she hadn't helped me out I don't know +what would have happened. I was so nervous I didn't know what I was +doing. Now that I've got through the first show I shall be all right.' + +I was glad I had sent that cable to his mother. I was going to need +her. The thing had got beyond me. + + * * * * * + +During the next week I saw a lot of old Gussie, and was introduced to +the girl. I also met her father, a formidable old boy with quick +eyebrows and a sort of determined expression. On the following +Wednesday Aunt Julia arrived. Mrs Mannering-Phipps, my aunt Julia, is, +I think, the most dignified person I know. She lacks Aunt Agatha's +punch, but in a quiet way she has always contrived to make me feel, +from boyhood up, that I was a poor worm. Not that she harries me like +Aunt Agatha. The difference between the two is that Aunt Agatha conveys +the impression that she considers me personally responsible for all the +sin and sorrow in the world, while Aunt Julia's manner seems to suggest +that I am more to be pitied than censured. + +If it wasn't that the thing was a matter of historical fact, I should +be inclined to believe that Aunt Julia had never been on the vaudeville +stage. She is like a stage duchess. + +She always seems to me to be in a perpetual state of being about to +desire the butler to instruct the head footman to serve lunch in the +blue-room overlooking the west terrace. She exudes dignity. Yet, +twenty-five years ago, so I've been told by old boys who were lads +about town in those days, she was knocking them cold at the Tivoli in a +double act called 'Fun in a Tea-Shop', in which she wore tights and +sang a song with a chorus that began, 'Rumpty-tiddley-umpty-ay'. + +There are some things a chappie's mind absolutely refuses to picture, +and Aunt Julia singing 'Rumpty-tiddley-umpty-ay' is one of them. + +She got straight to the point within five minutes of our meeting. + +'What is this about Gussie? Why did you cable for me, Bertie?' + +'It's rather a long story,' I said, 'and complicated. If you don't +mind, I'll let you have it in a series of motion pictures. Suppose we +look in at the Auditorium for a few minutes.' + +The girl, Ray, had been re-engaged for a second week at the Auditorium, +owing to the big success of her first week. Her act consisted of three +songs. She did herself well in the matter of costume and scenery. She +had a ripping voice. She looked most awfully pretty; and altogether the +act was, broadly speaking, a pippin. + +Aunt Julia didn't speak till we were in our seats. Then she gave a sort +of sigh. + +'It's twenty-five years since I was in a music-hall!' + +She didn't say any more, but sat there with her eyes glued on the +stage. + +After about half an hour the johnnies who work the card-index system at +the side of the stage put up the name of Ray Denison, and there was a +good deal of applause. + +'Watch this act, Aunt Julia,' I said. + +She didn't seem to hear me. + +'Twenty-five years! What did you say, Bertie?' + +'Watch this act and tell me what you think of it.' + +'Who is it? Ray. Oh!' + +'Exhibit A,' I said. 'The girl Gussie's engaged to.' + +The girl did her act, and the house rose at her. They didn't want to +let her go. She had to come back again and again. When she had finally +disappeared I turned to Aunt Julia. + +'Well?' I said. + +'I like her work. She's an artist.' + +'We will now, if you don't mind, step a goodish way uptown.' + +And we took the subway to where Gussie, the human film, was earning his +thirty-five per. As luck would have it, we hadn't been in the place ten +minutes when out he came. + +'Exhibit B,' I said. 'Gussie.' + +I don't quite know what I had expected her to do, but I certainly +didn't expect her to sit there without a word. She did not move a +muscle, but just stared at Gussie as he drooled on about the moon. I +was sorry for the woman, for it must have been a shock to her to see +her only son in a mauve frockcoat and a brown top-hat, but I thought it +best to let her get a strangle-hold on the intricacies of the situation +as quickly as possible. If I had tried to explain the affair without +the aid of illustrations I should have talked all day and left her +muddled up as to who was going to marry whom, and why. + +I was astonished at the improvement in dear old Gussie. He had got back +his voice and was putting the stuff over well. It reminded me of the +night at Oxford when, then but a lad of eighteen, he sang 'Let's All Go +Down the Strand' after a bump supper, standing the while up to his +knees in the college fountain. He was putting just the same zip into +the thing now. + +When he had gone off Aunt Julia sat perfectly still for a long time, +and then she turned to me. Her eyes shone queerly. + +'What does this mean, Bertie?' + +She spoke quite quietly, but her voice shook a bit. + +'Gussie went into the business,' I said, 'because the girl's father +wouldn't let him marry her unless he did. If you feel up to it perhaps +you wouldn't mind tottering round to One Hundred and Thirty-third +Street and having a chat with him. He's an old boy with eyebrows, and +he's Exhibit C on my list. When I've put you in touch with him I rather +fancy my share of the business is concluded, and it's up to you.' + +The Danbys lived in one of those big apartments uptown which look as if +they cost the earth and really cost about half as much as a hall-room +down in the forties. We were shown into the sitting-room, and presently +old Danby came in. + +'Good afternoon, Mr Danby,' I began. + +I had got as far as that when there was a kind of gasping cry at my +elbow. + +'Joe!' cried Aunt Julia, and staggered against the sofa. + +For a moment old Danby stared at her, and then his mouth fell open and +his eyebrows shot up like rockets. + +'Julie!' + +And then they had got hold of each other's hands and were shaking them +till I wondered their arms didn't come unscrewed. + +I'm not equal to this sort of thing at such short notice. The +change in Aunt Julia made me feel quite dizzy. She had shed her +_grande-dame_ manner completely, and was blushing and smiling. I +don't like to say such things of any aunt of mine, or I would go +further and put it on record that she was giggling. And old Danby, who +usually looked like a cross between a Roman emperor and Napoleon +Bonaparte in a bad temper, was behaving like a small boy. + +'Joe!' + +'Julie!' + +'Dear old Joe! Fancy meeting you again!' + +'Wherever have you come from, Julie?' + +Well, I didn't know what it was all about, but I felt a bit out of it. +I butted in: + +'Aunt Julia wants to have a talk with you, Mr Danby.' + +'I knew you in a second, Joe!' + +'It's twenty-five years since I saw you, kid, and you don't look a day +older.' + +'Oh, Joe! I'm an old woman!' + +'What are you doing over here? I suppose'--old Danby's cheerfulness +waned a trifle--'I suppose your husband is with you?' + +'My husband died a long, long while ago, Joe.' + +Old Danby shook his head. + +'You never ought to have married out of the profession, Julie. I'm +not saying a word against the late--I can't remember his name; never +could--but you shouldn't have done it, an artist like you. Shall I ever +forget the way you used to knock them with "Rumpty-tiddley-umpty-ay"?' + +'Ah! how wonderful you were in that act, Joe.' Aunt Julia sighed. 'Do +you remember the back-fall you used to do down the steps? I always have +said that you did the best back-fall in the profession.' + +'I couldn't do it now!' + +'Do you remember how we put it across at the Canterbury, Joe? Think of +it! The Canterbury's a moving-picture house now, and the old Mogul runs +French revues.' + +'I'm glad I'm not there to see them.' + +'Joe, tell me, why did you leave England?' + +'Well, I--I wanted a change. No I'll tell you the truth, kid. I wanted +you, Julie. You went off and married that--whatever that stage-door +johnny's name was--and it broke me all up.' + +Aunt Julia was staring at him. She is what they call a well-preserved +woman. It's easy to see that, twenty-five years ago, she must have been +something quite extraordinary to look at. Even now she's almost +beautiful. She has very large brown eyes, a mass of soft grey hair, and +the complexion of a girl of seventeen. + +'Joe, you aren't going to tell me you were fond of me yourself!' + +'Of course I was fond of you. Why did I let you have all the fat in +"Fun in a Tea-Shop"? Why did I hang about upstage while you sang +"Rumpty-tiddley-umpty-ay"? Do you remember my giving you a bag of buns +when we were on the road at Bristol?' + +'Yes, but--' + +'Do you remember my giving you the ham sandwiches at Portsmouth?' + +'Joe!' + +'Do you remember my giving you a seed-cake at Birmingham? What did you +think all that meant, if not that I loved you? Why, I was working up by +degrees to telling you straight out when you suddenly went off and +married that cane-sucking dude. That's why I wouldn't let my daughter +marry this young chap, Wilson, unless he went into the profession. +She's an artist--' + +'She certainly is, Joe.' + +'You've seen her? Where?' + +'At the Auditorium just now. But, Joe, you mustn't stand in the way of +her marrying the man she's in love with. He's an artist, too.' + +'In the small time.' + +'You were in the small time once, Joe. You mustn't look down on him +because he's a beginner. I know you feel that your daughter is marrying +beneath her, but--' + +'How on earth do you know anything about young Wilson? + +'He's my son.' + +'Your son?' + +'Yes, Joe. And I've just been watching him work. Oh, Joe, you can't +think how proud I was of him! He's got it in him. It's fate. He's my +son and he's in the profession! Joe, you don't know what I've been +through for his sake. They made a lady of me. I never worked so hard in +my life as I did to become a real lady. They kept telling me I had got +to put it across, no matter what it cost, so that he wouldn't be +ashamed of me. The study was something terrible. I had to watch myself +every minute for years, and I never knew when I might fluff my lines or +fall down on some bit of business. But I did it, because I didn't want +him to be ashamed of me, though all the time I was just aching to be +back where I belonged.' + +Old Danby made a jump at her, and took her by the shoulders. + +'Come back where you belong, Julie!' he cried. 'Your husband's dead, +your son's a pro. Come back! It's twenty-five years ago, but I haven't +changed. I want you still. I've always wanted you. You've got to come +back, kid, where you belong.' + +Aunt Julia gave a sort of gulp and looked at him. + +'Joe!' she said in a kind of whisper. + +'You're here, kid,' said Old Danby, huskily. 'You've come back.... +Twenty-five years!... You've come back and you're going to stay!' + +She pitched forward into his arms, and he caught her. + +'Oh, Joe! Joe! Joe!' she said. 'Hold me. Don't let me go. Take care of +me.' + +And I edged for the door and slipped from the room. I felt weak. The +old bean will stand a certain amount, but this was too much. I groped +my way out into the street and wailed for a taxi. + +Gussie called on me at the hotel that night. He curveted into the room +as if he had bought it and the rest of the city. + +'Bertie,' he said, 'I feel as if I were dreaming.' + +'I wish I could feel like that, old top,' I said, and I took another +glance at a cable that had arrived half an hour ago from Aunt Agatha. I +had been looking at it at intervals ever since. + +'Ray and I got back to her flat this evening. Who do you think was +there? The mater! She was sitting hand in hand with old Danby.' + +'Yes?' + +'He was sitting hand in hand with her.' + +'Really?' + +'They are going to be married.' + +'Exactly.' + +'Ray and I are going to be married.' + +'I suppose so.' + +'Bertie, old man, I feel immense. I look round me, and everything seems +to be absolutely corking. The change in the mater is marvellous. She is +twenty-five years younger. She and old Danby are talking of reviving +"Fun in a Tea-Shop", and going out on the road with it.' + +I got up. + +'Gussie, old top,' I said, 'leave me for a while. I would be alone. I +think I've got brain fever or something.' + +'Sorry, old man; perhaps New York doesn't agree with you. When do you +expect to go back to England?' + +I looked again at Aunt Agatha's cable. + +'With luck,' I said, 'in about ten years.' + +When he was gone I took up the cable and read it again. + +'What is happening?' it read. 'Shall I come over?' + +I sucked a pencil for a while, and then I wrote the reply. + +It was not an easy cable to word, but I managed it. + +'No,' I wrote, 'stay where you are. Profession overcrowded.' + + + + +WILTON'S HOLIDAY + + +When Jack Wilton first came to Marois Bay, none of us dreamed that he +was a man with a hidden sorrow in his life. There was something about +the man which made the idea absurd, or would have made it absurd if he +himself had not been the authority for the story. He looked so +thoroughly pleased with life and with himself. He was one of those men +whom you instinctively label in your mind as 'strong'. He was so +healthy, so fit, and had such a confident, yet sympathetic, look about +him that you felt directly you saw him that here was the one person you +would have selected as the recipient of that hard-luck story of yours. +You felt that his kindly strength would have been something to lean on. + +As a matter of fact, it was by trying to lean on it that Spencer Clay +got hold of the facts of the case; and when young Clay got hold of +anything, Marois Bay at large had it hot and fresh a few hours later; +for Spencer was one of those slack-jawed youths who are +constitutionally incapable of preserving a secret. + +Within two hours, then, of Clay's chat with Wilton, everyone in the +place knew that, jolly and hearty as the new-comer might seem, there +was that gnawing at his heart which made his outward cheeriness simply +heroic. + +Clay, it seems, who is the worst specimen of self-pitier, had gone to +Wilton, in whom, as a new-comer, he naturally saw a fine fresh +repository for his tales of woe, and had opened with a long yarn of +some misfortune or other. I forget which it was; it might have been any +one of a dozen or so which he had constantly in stock, and it is +immaterial which it was. The point is that, having heard him out very +politely and patiently, Wilton came back at him with a story which +silenced even Clay. Spencer was equal to most things, but even he could +not go on whining about how he had foozled his putting and been snubbed +at the bridge-table, or whatever it was that he was pitying himself +about just then, when a man was telling him the story of a wrecked +life. + +'He told me not to let it go any further,' said Clay to everyone he +met, 'but of course it doesn't matter telling you. It is a thing he +doesn't like to have known. He told me because he said there was +something about me that seemed to extract confidences--a kind of +strength, he said. You wouldn't think it to look at him, but his life +is an absolute blank. Absolutely ruined, don't you know. He told me the +whole thing so simply and frankly that it broke me all up. It seems +that he was engaged to be married a few years ago, and on the wedding +morning--absolutely on the wedding morning--the girl was taken suddenly +ill, and--' + +'And died?' + +'And died. Died in his arms. Absolutely in his arms, old top.' + +'What a terrible thing!' + +'Absolutely. He's never got over it. You won't let it go any further, +will you old man?' + +And off sped Spencer, to tell the tale to someone else. + + * * * * * + +Everyone was terribly sorry for Wilton. He was such a good fellow, such +a sportsman, and, above all, so young, that one hated the thought that, +laugh as he might, beneath his laughter there lay the pain of that +awful memory. He seemed so happy, too. It was only in moments of +confidence, in those heart-to-heart talks when men reveal their deeper +feelings, that he ever gave a hint that all was not well with him. As, +for example, when Ellerton, who is always in love with someone, backed +him into a corner one evening and began to tell him the story of his +latest affair, he had hardly begun when such a look of pain came over +Wilton's face that he ceased instantly. He said afterwards that the +sudden realization of the horrible break he was making hit him like a +bullet, and the manner in which he turned the conversation practically +without pausing from love to a discussion of the best method of getting +out of the bunker at the seventh hole was, in the circumstances, a +triumph of tact. + +Marois Bay is a quiet place even in the summer, and the Wilton tragedy +was naturally the subject of much talk. It is a sobering thing to get a +glimpse of the underlying sadness of life like that, and there was a +disposition at first on the part of the community to behave in his +presence in a manner reminiscent of pall-bearers at a funeral. But +things soon adjusted themselves. He was outwardly so cheerful that it +seemed ridiculous for the rest of us to step softly and speak with +hushed voices. After all, when you came to examine it, the thing was +his affair, and it was for him to dictate the lines on which it should +be treated. If he elected to hide his pain under a bright smile and a +laugh like that of a hyena with a more than usually keen sense of +humour, our line was obviously to follow his lead. + +We did so; and by degrees the fact that his life was permanently +blighted became almost a legend. At the back of our minds we were aware +of it, but it did not obtrude itself into the affairs of every day. It +was only when someone, forgetting, as Ellerton had done, tried to +enlist his sympathy for some misfortune of his own that the look of +pain in his eyes and the sudden tightening of his lips reminded us that +he still remembered. + +Matters had been at this stage for perhaps two weeks when Mary Campbell +arrived. + +Sex attraction is so purely a question of the taste of the individual +that the wise man never argues about it. He accepts its vagaries as +part of the human mystery, and leaves it at that. To me there was no +charm whatever about Mary Campbell. It may have been that, at the +moment, I was in love with Grace Bates, Heloise Miller, and Clarice +Wembley--for at Marois Bay, in the summer, a man who is worth his salt +is more than equal to three love affairs simultaneously--but anyway, +she left me cold. Not one thrill could she awake in me. She was small +and, to my mind, insignificant. Some men said that she had fine eyes. +They seemed to me just ordinary eyes. And her hair was just ordinary +hair. In fact, ordinary was the word that described her. + +But from the first it was plain that she seemed wonderful with Wilton, +which was all the more remarkable, seeing that he was the one man of us +all who could have got any girl in Marois Bay that he wanted. When a +man is six foot high, is a combination of Hercules and Apollo, and +plays tennis, golf, and the banjo with almost superhuman vim, his path +with the girls of a summer seaside resort is pretty smooth. But, when +you add to all these things a tragedy like Wilton's, he can only be +described as having a walk-over. + +Girls love a tragedy. At least, most girls do. It makes a man +interesting to them. Grace Bates was always going on about how +interesting Wilton was. So was Heloise Miller. So was Clarice Wembley. +But it was not until Mary Campbell came that he displayed any real +enthusiasm at all for the feminine element of Marois Bay. We put it +down to the fact that he could not forget, but the real reason, I now +know, was that he considered that girls were a nuisance on the links +and in the tennis-court. I suppose a plus two golfer and a Wildingesque +tennis-player, such as Wilton was, does feel like that. Personally, I +think that girls add to the fun of the thing. But then, my handicap is +twelve, and, though I have been playing tennis for many years, I doubt +if I have got my first serve--the fast one--over the net more than half +a dozen times. + +But Mary Campbell overcame Wilton's prejudices in twenty-four hours. He +seemed to feel lonely on the links without her, and he positively egged +her to be his partner in the doubles. What Mary thought of him we did +not know. She was one of those inscrutable girls. + +And so things went on. If it had not been that I knew Wilton's story, I +should have classed the thing as one of those summer love-affairs to +which the Marois Bay air is so peculiarly conducive. The only reason +why anyone comes away from a summer at Marois Bay unbetrothed is +because there are so many girls that he falls in love with that his +holiday is up before he can, so to speak, concentrate. + +But in Wilton's case this was out of the question. A man does not get +over the sort of blow he had had, not, at any rate, for many years: and +we had gathered that his tragedy was comparatively recent. + +I doubt if I was ever more astonished in my life than the night when he +confided in me. Why he should have chosen me as a confidant I cannot +say. I am inclined to think that I happened to be alone with him at the +psychological moment when a man must confide in somebody or burst; and +Wilton chose the lesser evil. + +I was strolling along the shore after dinner, smoking a cigar and +thinking of Grace Bates, Heloise Miller, and Clarice Wembley, when I +happened upon him. It was a beautiful night, and we sat down and drank +it in for a while. The first intimation I had that all was not well +with him was when he suddenly emitted a hollow groan. + +The next moment he had begun to confide. + +'I'm in the deuce of a hole,' he said. 'What would you do in my +position?' + +'Yes?' I said. + +'I proposed to Mary Campbell this evening.' + +'Congratulations.' + +'Thanks. She refused me.' + +'Refused you!' + +'Yes--because of Amy.' + +It seemed to me that the narrative required footnotes. + +'Who is Amy?' I said. + +'Amy is the girl--' + +'Which girl?' + +'The girl who died, you know. Mary had got hold of the whole story. In +fact, it was the tremendous sympathy she showed that encouraged me to +propose. If it hadn't been for that, I shouldn't have had the nerve. +I'm not fit to black her shoes.' + +Odd, the poor opinion a man always has--when he is in love--of his +personal attractions. There were times when I thought of Grace Bates, +Heloise Miller, and Clarice Wembley, when I felt like one of the beasts +that perish. But then, I'm nothing to write home about, whereas the +smallest gleam of intelligence should have told Wilton that he was a +kind of Ouida guardsman. + +'This evening I managed somehow to do it. She was tremendously nice +about it--said she was very fond of me and all that--but it was quite +out of the question because of Amy.' + +'I don't follow this. What did she mean?' + +'It's perfectly clear, if you bear in mind that Mary is the most +sensitive, spiritual, highly strung girl that ever drew breath,' said +Wilton, a little coldly. 'Her position is this: she feels that, because +of Amy, she can never have my love completely; between us there would +always be Amy's memory. It would be the same as if she married a +widower.' + +'Well, widowers marry.' + +'They don't marry girls like Mary.' + +I couldn't help feeling that this was a bit of luck for the widowers; +but I didn't say so. One has always got to remember that opinions +differ about girls. One man's peach, so to speak, is another man's +poison. I have met men who didn't like Grace Bates, men who, if Heloise +Miller or Clarice Wembley had given them their photographs, would have +used them to cut the pages of a novel. + +'Amy stands between us,' said Wilton. + +I breathed a sympathetic snort. I couldn't think of anything noticeably +suitable to say. + +'Stands between us,' repeated Wilton. 'And the damn silly part of the +whole thing is that there isn't any Amy. I invented her.' + +'You--what!' + +'Invented her. Made her up. No, I'm not mad. I had a reason. Let me +see, you come from London, don't you?' + +'Yes.' + +'Then you haven't any friends. It's different with me. I live in a +small country town, and everyone's my friend. I don't know what it is +about me, but for some reason, ever since I can remember, I've been +looked on as the strong man of my town, the man who's _all right_. +Am I making myself clear?' + +'Not quite.' + +'Well, what I am trying to get at is this. Either because I'm a strong +sort of fellow to look at, and have obviously never been sick in my +life, or because I can't help looking pretty cheerful, the whole of +Bridley-in-the-Wold seems to take it for granted that I can't possibly +have any troubles of my own, and that I am consequently fair game for +anyone who has any sort of worry. I have the sympathetic manner, and +they come to me to be cheered up. If a fellow's in love, he makes a +bee-line for me, and tells me all about it. If anyone has had a +bereavement, I am the rock on which he leans for support. Well, I'm a +patient sort of man, and, as far as Bridley-in-the-Wold is concerned, I +am willing to play the part. But a strong man does need an occasional +holiday, and I made up my mind that I would get it. Directly I got here +I saw that the same old game was going to start. Spencer Clay swooped +down on me at once. I'm as big a draw with the Spencer Clay type of +maudlin idiot as catnip is with a cat. Well, I could stand it at home, +but I was hanged if I was going to have my holiday spoiled. So I +invented Amy. Now do you see?' + +'Certainly I see. And I perceive something else which you appear to +have overlooked. If Amy doesn't exist--or, rather, never did exist--she +cannot stand between you and Miss Campbell. Tell her what you have told +me, and all will be well.' + +He shook his head. + +'You don't know Mary. She would never forgive me. You don't know what +sympathy, what angelic sympathy, she has poured out on me about Amy. I +can't possibly tell her the whole thing was a fraud. It would make her +feel so foolish.' + +'You must risk it. At the worst, you lose nothing.' + +He brightened a little. + +'No, that's true,' he said. 'I've half a mind to do it.' + +'Make it a whole mind,' I said, 'and you win out.' + +I was wrong. Sometimes I am. The trouble was, apparently, that I didn't +know Mary. I am sure Grace Bates, Heloise Miller, or Clarice Wembley +would not have acted as she did. They might have been a trifle stunned +at first, but they would soon have come round, and all would have been +joy. But with Mary, no. What took place at the interview I do not know; +but it was swiftly perceived by Marois Bay that the Wilton-Campbell +alliance was off. They no longer walked together, golfed together, and +played tennis on the same side of the net. They did not even speak to +each other. + + * * * * * + +The rest of the story I can speak of only from hearsay. How it became +public property, I do not know. But there was a confiding strain in +Wilton, and I imagine he confided in someone, who confided in someone +else. At any rate, it is recorded in Marois Bay's unwritten archives, +from which I now extract it. + + * * * * * + +For some days after the breaking-off of diplomatic relations, Wilton +seemed too pulverized to resume the offensive. He mooned about the +links by himself, playing a shocking game, and generally comported +himself like a man who has looked for the escape of gas with a lighted +candle. In affairs of love the strongest men generally behave with the +most spineless lack of resolution. Wilton weighed thirteen stone, and +his muscles were like steel cables; but he could not have shown less +pluck in this crisis in his life if he had been a poached egg. It was +pitiful to see him. + +Mary, in these days, simply couldn't see that he was on the earth. She +looked round him, above him, and through him, but never at him; which +was rotten from Wilton's point of view, for he had developed a sort of +wistful expression--I am convinced that he practised it before the +mirror after his bath--which should have worked wonders, if only he +could have got action with it. But she avoided his eye as if he had +been a creditor whom she was trying to slide past on the street. + +She irritated me. To let the breach widen in this way was absurd. +Wilton, when I said as much to him, said that it was due to her +wonderful sensitiveness and highly strungness, and that it was just one +more proof to him of the loftiness of her soul and her shrinking horror +of any form of deceit. In fact, he gave me the impression that, though +the affair was rending his vitals, he took a mournful pleasure in +contemplating her perfection. + +Now one afternoon Wilton took his misery for a long walk along the +seashore. He tramped over the sand for some considerable time, and +finally pulled up in a little cove, backed by high cliffs and dotted +with rocks. The shore around Marois Bay is full of them. + +By this time the afternoon sun had begun to be too warm for comfort, +and it struck Wilton that he could be a great deal more comfortable +nursing his wounded heart with his back against one of the rocks than +tramping any farther over the sand. Most of the Marois Bay scenery is +simply made as a setting for the nursing of a wounded heart. The cliffs +are a sombre indigo, sinister and forbidding; and even on the finest +days the sea has a curious sullen look. You have only to get away from +the crowd near the bathing-machines and reach one of these small coves +and get your book against a rock and your pipe well alight, and you can +simply wallow in misery. I have done it myself. The day when Heloise +Miller went golfing with Teddy Bingley I spent the whole afternoon in +one of these retreats. It is true that, after twenty minutes of +contemplating the breakers, I fell asleep; but that is bound to happen. + +It happened to Wilton. For perhaps half an hour he brooded, and then +his pipe fell from his mouth and he dropped off into a peaceful +slumber. And time went by. + +It was a touch of cramp that finally woke him. He jumped up with a +yell, and stood there massaging his calf. And he had hardly got rid of +the pain, when a startled exclamation broke the primeval stillness; and +there, on the other side of the rock, was Mary Campbell. + +Now, if Wilton had had any inductive reasoning in his composition at +all, he would have been tremendously elated. A girl does not creep out +to a distant cove at Marois Bay unless she is unhappy; and if Mary +Campbell was unhappy she must be unhappy about him; and if she was +unhappy about him all he had to do was to show a bit of determination +and get the whole thing straightened out. But Wilton, whom grief had +reduced to the mental level of an oyster, did not reason this out; and +the sight of her deprived him of practically all his faculties, +including speech. He just stood there and yammered. + +'Did you follow me here, Mr Wilton?' said Mary, very coldly. + +He shook his head. Eventually he managed to say that he had come there +by chance, and had fallen asleep under the rock. As this was exactly +what Mary had done, she could not reasonably complain. So that +concluded the conversation for the time being. She walked away in the +direction of Marois Bay without another word, and presently he lost +sight of her round a bend in the cliffs. + +His position now was exceedingly unpleasant. If she had such a distaste +for his presence, common decency made it imperative that he should give +her a good start on the homeward journey. He could not tramp along a +couple of yards in the rear all the way. So he had to remain where he +was till she had got well off the mark. And as he was wearing a thin +flannel suit, and the sun had gone in, and a chilly breeze had sprung +up, his mental troubles were practically swamped in physical +discomfort. + +Just as he had decided that he could now make a move, he was surprised +to see her coming back. + +Wilton really was elated at this. The construction he put on it was +that she had relented and was coming back to fling her arms round his +neck. He was just bracing himself for the clash, when he caught her +eye, and it was as cold and unfriendly as the sea. + +'I must go round the other way,' she said. 'The water has come up too +far on that side.' + +And she walked past him to the other end of the cove. + +The prospect of another wait chilled Wilton to the marrow. The wind had +now grown simply freezing, and it came through his thin suit and roamed +about all over him in a manner that caused him exquisite discomfort. He +began to jump to keep himself warm. + +He was leaping heavenwards for the hundredth time, when, chancing to +glance to one side, he perceived Mary again returning. By this time his +physical misery had so completely overcome the softer emotions in his +bosom that his only feeling now was one of thorough irritation. It was +not fair, he felt, that she should jockey at the start in this way and +keep him hanging about here catching cold. He looked at her, when she +came within range, quite balefully. + +'It is impossible,' she said, 'to get round that way either.' + +One grows so accustomed in this world to everything going smoothly, +that the idea of actual danger had not yet come home to her. From where +she stood in the middle of the cove, the sea looked so distant that the +fact that it had closed the only ways of getting out was at the moment +merely annoying. She felt much the same as she would have felt if she +had arrived at a station to catch a train and had been told that the +train was not running. + +She therefore seated herself on a rock, and contemplated the ocean. +Wilton walked up and down. Neither showed any disposition to exercise +that gift of speech which places Man in a class of his own, above the +ox, the ass, the common wart-hog, and the rest of the lower animals. It +was only when a wave swished over the base of her rock that Mary broke +the silence. + +'The tide is coming _in_' she faltered. + +She looked at the sea with such altered feelings that it seemed a +different sea altogether. + +There was plenty of it to look at. It filled the entire mouth of the +little bay, swirling up the sand and lashing among the rocks in a +fashion which made one thought stand out above all the others in her +mind--the recollection that she could not swim. + +'Mr Wilton!' + +Wilton bowed coldly. + +'Mr Wilton, the tide. It's coming IN.' + +Wilton glanced superciliously at the sea. + +'So,' he said, 'I perceive.' + +'But what shall we do?' + +Wilton shrugged his shoulders. He was feeling at war with Nature and +Humanity combined. The wind had shifted a few points to the east, and +was exploring his anatomy with the skill of a qualified surgeon. + +'We shall drown,' cried Miss Campbell. 'We shall drown. We shall drown. +We shall drown.' + +All Wilton's resentment left him. Until he heard that pitiful wail his +only thoughts had been for himself. + +'Mary!' he said, with a wealth of tenderness in his voice. + +She came to him as a little child comes to its mother, and he put his +arm around her. + +'Oh, Jack!' + +'My darling!' + +'I'm frightened!' + +'My precious!' + +It is in moments of peril, when the chill breath of fear blows upon our +souls, clearing them of pettiness, that we find ourselves. + +She looked about her wildly. + +'Could we climb the cliffs?' + +'I doubt it.' + +'If we called for help--' + +'We could do that.' + +They raised their voices, but the only answer was the crashing of the +waves and the cry of the sea-birds. The water was swirling at their +feet, and they drew back to the shelter of the cliffs. There they stood +in silence, watching. + +'Mary,' said Wilton in a low voice, 'tell me one thing.' + +'Yes, Jack?' + +'Have you forgiven me?' + +'Forgiven you! How can you ask at a moment like this? I love you with +all my heart and soul.' + +He kissed her, and a strange look of peace came over his face. + +'I am happy.' + +'I, too.' + +A fleck of foam touched her face, and she shivered. + +'It was worth it,' he said quietly. 'If all misunderstandings are +cleared away and nothing can come between us again, it is a small price +to pay--unpleasant as it will be when it comes.' + +'Perhaps--perhaps it will not be very unpleasant. They say that +drowning is an easy death.' + +'I didn't mean drowning, dearest. I meant a cold in the head.' + +'A cold in the head!' + +He nodded gravely. + +'I don't see how it can be avoided. You know how chilly it gets these +late summer nights. It will be a long time before we can get away.' + +She laughed a shrill, unnatural laugh. + +'You are talking like this to keep my courage up. You know in your +heart that there is no hope for us. Nothing can save us now. The water +will come creeping--creeping--' + +'Let it creep! It can't get past that rock there.' + +'What do you mean?' + +'It can't. The tide doesn't come up any farther. I know, because I was +caught here last week.' + +For a moment she looked at him without speaking. Then she uttered a cry +in which relief, surprise, and indignation were so nicely blended that +it would have been impossible to say which predominated. + +He was eyeing the approaching waters with an indulgent smile. + +'Why didn't you tell me?' she cried. + +'I did tell you.' + +'You know what I mean. Why did you let me go on thinking we were in +danger, when--' + +'We _were_ in danger. We shall probably get pneumonia.' + +'Isch!' + +'There! You're sneezing already.' + +'I am not sneezing. That was an exclamation of disgust.' + +'It sounded like a sneeze. It must have been, for you've every reason +to sneeze, but why you should utter exclamations of disgust I cannot +imagine.' + +'I'm disgusted with you--with your meanness. You deliberately tricked +me into saying--' + +'Saying--' + +She was silent. + +'What you said was that you loved me with all your heart and soul. You +can't get away from that, and it's good enough for me.' + +'Well, it's not true any longer.' + +'Yes, it is,' said Wilton, comfortably; 'bless it.' + +'It is not. I'm going right away now, and I shall never speak to you +again.' + +She moved away from him, and prepared to sit down. + +'There's a jelly-fish just where you're going to sit,' said Wilton. + +'I don't care.' + +'It will. I speak from experience, as one on whom you have sat so +often.' + +'I'm not amused.' + +'Have patience. I can be funnier than that.' + +'Please don't talk to me.' + +'Very well.' + +She seated herself with her back to him. Dignity demanded reprisals, so +he seated himself with his back to her; and the futile ocean raged +towards them, and the wind grew chillier every minute. + +Time passed. Darkness fell. The little bay became a black cavern, +dotted here and there with white, where the breeze whipped the surface +of the water. + +Wilton sighed. It was lonely sitting there all by himself. How much +jollier it would have been if-- + +A hand touched his shoulder, and a voice spoke--meekly. + +'Jack, dear, it--it's awfully cold. Don't you think if we were +to--snuggle up--' + +He reached out and folded her in an embrace which would have aroused +the professional enthusiasm of Hackenschmidt and drawn guttural +congratulations from Zbysco. She creaked, but did not crack, beneath +the strain. + +'That's much nicer,' she said, softly. 'Jack, I don't think the tide's +started even to think of going down yet.' + +'I hope not,' said Wilton. + + + + +THE MIXER + + +I. _He Meets a Shy Gentleman_ + +Looking back, I always consider that my career as a dog proper really +started when I was bought for the sum of half a crown by the Shy Man. +That event marked the end of my puppyhood. The knowledge that I was +worth actual cash to somebody filled me with a sense of new +responsibilities. It sobered me. Besides, it was only after that +half-crown changed hands that I went out into the great world; and, +however interesting life may be in an East End public-house, it is only +when you go out into the world that you really broaden your mind and +begin to see things. + +Within its limitations, my life had been singularly full and vivid. I +was born, as I say, in a public-house in the East End, and, however +lacking a public-house may be in refinement and the true culture, it +certainly provides plenty of excitement. Before I was six weeks old I +had upset three policemen by getting between their legs when they came +round to the side-door, thinking they had heard suspicious noises; and +I can still recall the interesting sensation of being chased seventeen +times round the yard with a broom-handle after a well-planned and +completely successful raid on the larder. These and other happenings of +a like nature soothed for the moment but could not cure the +restlessness which has always been so marked a trait in my character. I +have always been restless, unable to settle down in one place and +anxious to get on to the next thing. This may be due to a gipsy strain +in my ancestry--one of my uncles travelled with a circus--or it may be +the Artistic Temperament, acquired from a grandfather who, before dying +of a surfeit of paste in the property-room of the Bristol Coliseum, +which he was visiting in the course of a professional tour, had an +established reputation on the music-hall stage as one of Professor +Pond's Performing Poodles. + +I owe the fullness and variety of my life to this restlessness of mine, +for I have repeatedly left comfortable homes in order to follow some +perfect stranger who looked as if he were on his way to somewhere +interesting. Sometimes I think I must have cat blood in me. + +The Shy Man came into our yard one afternoon in April, while I was +sleeping with mother in the sun on an old sweater which we had borrowed +from Fred, one of the barmen. I heard mother growl, but I didn't take +any notice. Mother is what they call a good watch-dog, and she growls +at everybody except master. At first, when she used to do it, I would +get up and bark my head off, but not now. Life's too short to bark at +everybody who comes into our yard. It is behind the public-house, and +they keep empty bottles and things there, so people are always coming +and going. + +Besides, I was tired. I had had a very busy morning, helping the men +bring in a lot of cases of beer, and running into the saloon to talk to +Fred and generally looking after things. So I was just dozing off +again, when I heard a voice say, 'Well, he's ugly enough!' Then I knew +that they were talking about me. + +I have never disguised it from myself, and nobody has ever disguised it +from me, that I am not a handsome dog. Even mother never thought me +beautiful. She was no Gladys Cooper herself, but she never hesitated to +criticize my appearance. In fact, I have yet to meet anyone who did. +The first thing strangers say about me is, 'What an ugly dog!' + +I don't know what I am. I have a bulldog kind of a face, but the rest +of me is terrier. I have a long tail which sticks straight up in the +air. My hair is wiry. My eyes are brown. I am jet black, with a white +chest. I once overheard Fred saying that I was a Gorgonzola +cheese-hound, and I have generally found Fred reliable in his +statements. + +When I found that I was under discussion, I opened my eyes. Master was +standing there, looking down at me, and by his side the man who had +just said I was ugly enough. The man was a thin man, about the age of a +barman and smaller than a policeman. He had patched brown shoes and +black trousers. + +'But he's got a sweet nature,' said master. + +This was true, luckily for me. Mother always said, 'A dog without +influence or private means, if he is to make his way in the world, must +have either good looks or amiability.' But, according to her, I overdid +it. 'A dog,' she used to say, 'can have a good heart, without chumming +with every Tom, Dick, and Harry he meets. Your behaviour is sometimes +quite un-doglike.' Mother prided herself on being a one-man dog. She +kept herself to herself, and wouldn't kiss anybody except master--not +even Fred. + +Now, I'm a mixer. I can't help it. It's my nature. I like men. I like +the taste of their boots, the smell of their legs, and the sound of +their voices. It may be weak of me, but a man has only to speak to me +and a sort of thrill goes right down my spine and sets my tail wagging. + +I wagged it now. The man looked at me rather distantly. He didn't pat +me. I suspected--what I afterwards found to be the case--that he was +shy, so I jumped up at him to put him at his ease. Mother growled +again. I felt that she did not approve. + +'Why, he's took quite a fancy to you already,' said master. + +The man didn't say a word. He seemed to be brooding on something. He +was one of those silent men. He reminded me of Joe, the old dog down +the street at the grocer's shop, who lies at the door all day, blinking +and not speaking to anybody. + +Master began to talk about me. It surprised me, the way he praised me. +I hadn't a suspicion he admired me so much. From what he said you would +have thought I had won prizes and ribbons at the Crystal Palace. But +the man didn't seem to be impressed. He kept on saying nothing. + +When master had finished telling him what a wonderful dog I was till I +blushed, the man spoke. + +'Less of it,' he said. 'Half a crown is my bid, and if he was an angel +from on high you couldn't get another ha'penny out of me. What about +it?' + +A thrill went down my spine and out at my tail, for of course I saw now +what was happening. The man wanted to buy me and take me away. I looked +at master hopefully. + +'He's more like a son to me than a dog,' said master, sort of wistful. + +'It's his face that makes you feel that way,' said the man, +unsympathetically. 'If you had a son that's just how he would look. +Half a crown is my offer, and I'm in a hurry.' + +'All right,' said master, with a sigh, 'though it's giving him away, a +valuable dog like that. Where's your half-crown?' + +The man got a bit of rope and tied it round my neck. + +I could hear mother barking advice and telling me to be a credit to the +family, but I was too excited to listen. + +'Good-bye, mother,' I said. 'Good-bye, master. Good-bye, Fred. Good-bye +everybody. I'm off to see life. The Shy Man has bought me for half a +crown. Wow!' + +I kept running round in circles and shouting, till the man gave me a +kick and told me to stop it. + +So I did. + +I don't know where we went, but it was a long way. I had never been off +our street before in my life and I didn't know the whole world was half +as big as that. We walked on and on, and the man jerked at my rope +whenever I wanted to stop and look at anything. He wouldn't even let me +pass the time of the day with dogs we met. + +When we had gone about a hundred miles and were just going to turn in +at a dark doorway, a policeman suddenly stopped the man. I could feel +by the way the man pulled at my rope and tried to hurry on that he +didn't want to speak to the policeman. The more I saw of the man the +more I saw how shy he was. + +'Hi!' said the policeman, and we had to stop. + +'I've got a message for you, old pal,' said the policeman. 'It's from +the Board of Health. They told me to tell you you needed a change of +air. See?' + +'All right!' said the man. + +'And take it as soon as you like. Else you'll find you'll get it given +you. See?' + +I looked at the man with a good deal of respect. He was evidently +someone very important, if they worried so about his health. + +'I'm going down to the country tonight,' said the man. + +The policeman seemed pleased. + +'That's a bit of luck for the country,' he said. 'Don't go changing +your mind.' + +And we walked on, and went in at the dark doorway, and climbed about a +million stairs and went into a room that smelt of rats. The man sat +down and swore a little, and I sat and looked at him. + +Presently I couldn't keep it in any longer. + +'Do we live here?' I said. 'Is it true we're going to the country? +Wasn't that policeman a good sort? Don't you like policemen? I knew +lots of policemen at the public-house. Are there any other dogs here? +What is there for dinner? What's in that cupboard? When are you going +to take me out for another run? May I go out and see if I can find a +cat?' + +'Stop that yelping,' he said. + +'When we go to the country, where shall we live? Are you going to be a +caretaker at a house? Fred's father is a caretaker at a big house in +Kent. I've heard Fred talk about it. You didn't meet Fred when you came +to the public-house, did you? You would like Fred. I like Fred. Mother +likes Fred. We all like Fred.' + +I was going on to tell him a lot more about Fred, who had always been +one of my warmest friends, when he suddenly got hold of a stick and +walloped me with it. + +'You keep quiet when you're told,' he said. + +He really was the shyest man I had ever met. It seemed to hurt him to +be spoken to. However, he was the boss, and I had to humour him, so I +didn't say any more. + +We went down to the country that night, just as the man had told the +policeman we would. I was all worked up, for I had heard so much about +the country from Fred that I had always wanted to go there. Fred used +to go off on a motor-bicycle sometimes to spend the night with his +father in Kent, and once he brought back a squirrel with him, which I +thought was for me to eat, but mother said no. 'The first thing a dog +has to learn,' mother used often to say, 'is that the whole world +wasn't created for him to eat.' + +It was quite dark when we got to the country, but the man seemed to +know where to go. He pulled at my rope, and we began to walk along a +road with no people in it at all. We walked on and on, but it was all +so new to me that I forgot how tired I was. I could feel my mind +broadening with every step I took. + +Every now and then we would pass a very big house, which looked as if +it was empty, but I knew that there was a caretaker inside, because of +Fred's father. These big houses belong to very rich people, but they +don't want to live in them till the summer, so they put in caretakers, +and the caretakers have a dog to keep off burglars. I wondered if that +was what I had been brought here for. + +'Are you going to be a caretaker?' I asked the man. + +'Shut up,' he said. + +So I shut up. + +After we had been walking a long rime, we came to a cottage. A man came +out. My man seemed to know him, for he called him Bill. I was quite +surprised to see the man was not at all shy with Bill. They seemed very +friendly. + +'Is that him?' said Bill, looking at me. + +'Bought him this afternoon,' said the man. + +'Well,' said Bill, 'he's ugly enough. He looks fierce. If you want a +dog, he's the sort of dog you want. But what do you want one for? It +seems to me it's a lot of trouble to take, when there's no need of any +trouble at all. Why not do what I've always wanted to do? What's wrong +with just fixing the dog, same as it's always done, and walking in and +helping yourself?' + +'I'll tell you what's wrong,' said the man. 'To start with, you can't +get at the dog to fix him except by day, when they let him out. At +night he's shut up inside the house. And suppose you do fix him during +the day what happens then? Either the bloke gets another before night, +or else he sits up all night with a gun. It isn't like as if these +blokes was ordinary blokes. They're down here to look after the house. +That's their job, and they don't take any chances.' + +It was the longest speech I had ever heard the man make, and it seemed +to impress Bill. He was quite humble. + +'I didn't think of that,' he said. 'We'd best start in to train this +tyke at once.' + +Mother often used to say, when I went on about wanting to go out into +the world and see life, 'You'll be sorry when you do. The world isn't +all bones and liver.' And I hadn't been living with the man and Bill in +their cottage long before I found out how right she was. + +It was the man's shyness that made all the trouble. It seemed as if he +hated to be taken notice of. + +It started on my very first night at the cottage. I had fallen asleep +in the kitchen, tired out after all the excitement of the day and the +long walks I had had, when something woke me with a start. It was +somebody scratching at the window, trying to get in. + +Well, I ask you, I ask any dog, what would you have done in my place? +Ever since I was old enough to listen, mother had told me over and over +again what I must do in a case like this. It is the A B C of a dog's +education. 'If you are in a room and you hear anyone trying to get in,' +mother used to say, 'bark. It may be someone who has business there, or +it may not. Bark first, and inquire afterwards. Dogs were made to be +heard and not seen.' + +I lifted my head and yelled, I have a good, deep voice, due to a hound +strain in my pedigree, and at the public-house, when there was a full +moon, I have often had people leaning out of the windows and saying +things all down the street. I took a deep breath and let it go. + +'Man!' I shouted. 'Bill! Man! Come quick! Here's a burglar getting in!' + +Then somebody struck a light, and it was the man himself. He had come +in through the window. + +He picked up a stick, and he walloped me. I couldn't understand it. I +couldn't see where I had done the wrong thing. But he was the boss, so +there was nothing to be said. + +If you'll believe me, that same thing happened every night. Every +single night! And sometimes twice or three times before morning. And +every time I would bark my loudest and the man would strike a light and +wallop me. The thing was baffling. I couldn't possibly have mistaken +what mother had said to me. She said it too often for that. Bark! Bark! +Bark! It was the main plank of her whole system of education. And yet, +here I was, getting walloped every night for doing it. + +I thought it out till my head ached, and finally I got it right. I +began to see that mother's outlook was narrow. No doubt, living with a +man like master at the public-house, a man without a trace of shyness +in his composition, barking was all right. But circumstances alter +cases. I belonged to a man who was a mass of nerves, who got the jumps +if you spoke to him. What I had to do was to forget the training I had +had from mother, sound as it no doubt was as a general thing, and to +adapt myself to the needs of the particular man who had happened to buy +me. I had tried mother's way, and all it had brought me was walloping, +so now I would think for myself. + +So next night, when I heard the window go, I lay there without a word, +though it went against all my better feelings. I didn't even growl. +Someone came in and moved about in the dark, with a lantern, but, +though I smelt that it was the man, I didn't ask him a single question. +And presently the man lit a light and came over to me and gave me a +pat, which was a thing he had never done before. + +'Good dog!' he said. 'Now you can have this.' + +And he let me lick out the saucepan in which the dinner had been +cooked. + +After that, we got on fine. Whenever I heard anyone at the window I +just kept curled up and took no notice, and every time I got a bone or +something good. It was easy, once you had got the hang of things.' + +It was about a week after that the man took me out one morning, and we +walked a long way till we turned in at some big gates and went along a +very smooth road till we came to a great house, standing all by itself +in the middle of a whole lot of country. There was a big lawn in front +of it, and all round there were fields and trees, and at the back a +great wood. + +The man rang a bell, and the door opened, and an old man came out. + +'Well?' he said, not very cordially. + +'I thought you might want to buy a good watch-dog,' said the man. + +'Well, that's queer, your saying that,' said the caretaker. 'It's a +coincidence. That's exactly what I do want to buy. I was just thinking +of going along and trying to get one. My old dog picked up something +this morning that he oughtn't to have, and he's dead, poor feller.' + +'Poor feller,' said the man. 'Found an old bone with phosphorus on it, +I guess.' + +'What do you want for this one?' + +'Five shillings.' + +'Is he a good watch-dog?' + +'He's a grand watch-dog.' + +'He looks fierce enough.' + +'Ah!' + +So the caretaker gave the man his five shillings, and the man went off +and left me. + +At first the newness of everything and the unaccustomed smells and +getting to know the caretaker, who was a nice old man, prevented my +missing the man, but as the day went on and I began to realize that he +had gone and would never come back, I got very depressed. I pattered +all over the house, whining. It was a most interesting house, bigger +than I thought a house could possibly be, but it couldn't cheer me up. +You may think it strange that I should pine for the man, after all the +wallopings he had given me, and it is odd, when you come to think of +it. But dogs are dogs, and they are built like that. By the time it was +evening I was thoroughly miserable. I found a shoe and an old +clothes-brush in one of the rooms, but could eat nothing. I just sat +and moped. + +It's a funny thing, but it seems as if it always happened that just +when you are feeling most miserable, something nice happens. As I sat +there, there came from outside the sound of a motor-bicycle, and +somebody shouted. + +It was dear old Fred, my old pal Fred, the best old boy that ever +stepped. I recognized his voice in a second, and I was scratching at +the door before the old man had time to get up out of his chair. + +Well, well, well! That was a pleasant surprise! I ran five times round +the lawn without stopping, and then I came back and jumped up at him. + +'What are you doing down here, Fred?' I said. 'Is this caretaker your +father? Have you seen the rabbits in the wood? How long are you going +to stop? How's mother? I like the country. Have you come all the way +from the public-house? I'm living here now. Your father gave five +shillings for me. That's twice as much as I was worth when I saw you +last.' + +'Why, it's young Nigger!' That was what they called me at the saloon. +'What are you doing here? Where did you get this dog, father?' + +'A man sold him to me this morning. Poor old Bob got poisoned. This one +ought to be just as good a watch-dog. He barks loud enough.' + +'He should be. His mother is the best watch-dog in London. This +cheese-hound used to belong to the boss. Funny him getting down here.' + +We went into the house and had supper. And after supper we sat and +talked. Fred was only down for the night, he said, because the boss +wanted him back next day. + +'And I'd sooner have my job, than yours, dad,' he said. 'Of all the +lonely places! I wonder you aren't scared of burglars.' + +'I've my shot-gun, and there's the dog. I might be scared if it wasn't +for him, but he kind of gives me confidence. Old Bob was the same. Dogs +are a comfort in the country.' + +'Get many tramps here?' + +'I've only seen one in two months, and that's the feller who sold me +the dog here.' + +As they were talking about the man, I asked Fred if he knew him. They +might have met at the public-house, when the man was buying me from the +boss. + +'You would like him,' I said. 'I wish you could have met.' + +They both looked at me. + +'What's he growling at?' asked Fred. 'Think he heard something?' + +The old man laughed. + +'He wasn't growling. He was talking in his sleep. You're nervous, Fred. +It comes of living in the city.' + +'Well, I am. I like this place in the daytime, but it gives me the pip +at night. It's so quiet. How you can stand it here all the time, I +can't understand. Two nights of it would have me seeing things.' + +His father laughed. + +'If you feel like that, Fred, you had better take the gun to bed with +you. I shall be quite happy without it.' + +'I will,' said Fred. 'I'll take six if you've got them.' + +And after that they went upstairs. I had a basket in the hall, which +had belonged to Bob, the dog who had got poisoned. It was a comfortable +basket, but I was so excited at having met Fred again that I couldn't +sleep. Besides, there was a smell of mice somewhere, and I had to move +around, trying to place it. + +I was just sniffing at a place in the wall, when I heard a scratching +noise. At first I thought it was the mice working in a different place, +but, when I listened, I found that the sound came from the window. +Somebody was doing something to it from outside. + +If it had been mother, she would have lifted the roof off right there, +and so should I, if it hadn't been for what the man had taught me. I +didn't think it possible that this could be the man come back, for he +had gone away and said nothing about ever seeing me again. But I didn't +bark. I stopped where I was and listened. And presently the window came +open, and somebody began to climb in. + +I gave a good sniff, and I knew it was the man. + +I was so delighted that for a moment I nearly forgot myself and shouted +with joy, but I remembered in time how shy he was, and stopped myself. +But I ran to him and jumped up quite quietly, and he told me to lie +down. I was disappointed that he didn't seem more pleased to see me. I +lay down. + +It was very dark, but he had brought a lantern with him, and I could +see him moving about the room, picking things up and putting them in a +bag which he had brought with him. Every now and then he would stop and +listen, and then he would start moving round again. He was very quick +about it, but very quiet. It was plain that he didn't want Fred or his +father to come down and find him. + +I kept thinking about this peculiarity of his while I watched him. I +suppose, being chummy myself, I find it hard to understand that +everybody else in the world isn't chummy too. Of course, my experience +at the public-house had taught me that men are just as different from +each other as dogs. If I chewed master's shoe, for instance, he used to +kick me; but if I chewed Fred's, Fred would tickle me under the ear. +And, similarly, some men are shy and some men are mixers. I quite +appreciated that, but I couldn't help feeling that the man carried +shyness to a point where it became morbid. And he didn't give himself a +chance to cure himself of it. That was the point. Imagine a man hating +to meet people so much that he never visited their houses till the +middle of the night, when they were in bed and asleep. It was silly. +Shyness has always been something so outside my nature that I suppose I +have never really been able to look at it sympathetically. I have +always held the view that you can get over it if you make an effort. +The trouble with the man was that he wouldn't make an effort. He went +out of his way to avoid meeting people. + +I was fond of the man. He was the sort of person you never get to know +very well, but we had been together for quite a while, and I wouldn't +have been a dog if I hadn't got attached to him. + +As I sat and watched him creep about the room, it suddenly came to me +that here was a chance of doing him a real good turn in spite of +himself. Fred was upstairs, and Fred, as I knew by experience, was the +easiest man to get along with in the world. Nobody could be shy with +Fred. I felt that if only I could bring him and the man together, they +would get along splendidly, and it would teach the man not to be silly +and avoid people. It would help to give him the confidence which he +needed. I had seen him with Bill, and I knew that he could be perfectly +natural and easy when he liked. + +It was true that the man might object at first, but after a while he +would see that I had acted simply for his good, and would be grateful. + +The difficulty was, how to get Fred down without scaring the man. I +knew that if I shouted he wouldn't wait, but would be out of the window +and away before Fred could get there. What I had to do was to go to +Fred's room, explain the whole situation quietly to him, and ask him to +come down and make himself pleasant. + +The man was far too busy to pay any attention to me. He was kneeling in +a corner with his back to me, putting something in his bag. I seized +the opportunity to steal softly from the room. + +Fred's door was shut, and I could hear him snoring. I scratched gently, +and then harder, till I heard the snores stop. He got out of bed and +opened the door. + +'Don't make a noise,' I whispered. 'Come on downstairs. I want you to +meet a friend of mine.' + +At first he was quite peevish. + +'What's the idea,' he said, 'coming and spoiling a man's beauty-sleep? +Get out.' + +He actually started to go back into the room. + +'No, honestly, Fred,' I said, 'I'm not fooling you. There is a man +downstairs. He got in through the window. I want you to meet him. He's +very shy, and I think it will do him good to have a chat with you.' + +'What are you whining about?' Fred began, and then he broke off +suddenly and listened. We could both hear the man's footsteps as he +moved about. + +Fred jumped back into the room. He came out, carrying something. He +didn't say any more but started to go downstairs, very quiet, and I +went after him. + +There was the man, still putting things in his bag. I was just going to +introduce Fred, when Fred, the silly ass, gave a great yell. + +I could have bitten him. + +'What did you want to do that for, you chump?' I said 'I told you he +was shy. Now you've scared him.' + +He certainly had. The man was out of the window quicker than you would +have believed possible. He just flew out. I called after him that it +was only Fred and me, but at that moment a gun went off with a +tremendous bang, so he couldn't have heard me. + +I was pretty sick about it. The whole thing had gone wrong. Fred seemed +to have lost his head entirely. He was behaving like a perfect ass. +Naturally the man had been frightened with him carrying on in that way. +I jumped out of the window to see if I could find the man and explain, +but he was gone. Fred jumped out after me, and nearly squashed me. + +It was pitch dark out there. I couldn't see a thing. But I knew the man +could not have gone far, or I should have heard him. I started to sniff +round on the chance of picking up his trail. It wasn't long before I +struck it. + +Fred's father had come down now, and they were running about. The old +man had a light. I followed the trail, and it ended at a large +cedar-tree, not far from the house. I stood underneath it and looked +up, but of course I could not see anything. + +'Are you up there?' I shouted. 'There's nothing to be scared at. It was +only Fred. He's an old pal of mine. He works at the place where you +bought me. His gun went off by accident. He won't hurt you.' + +There wasn't a sound. I began to think I must have made a mistake. + +'He's got away,' I heard Fred say to his father, and just as he said it +I caught a faint sound of someone moving in the branches above me. + +'No he hasn't!' I shouted. 'He's up this tree.' + +'I believe the dog's found him, dad!' + +'Yes, he's up here. Come along and meet him.' + +Fred came to the foot of the tree. + +'You up there,' he said, 'come along down.' + +Not a sound from the tree. + +'It's all right,' I explained, 'he _is_ up there, but he's very shy. Ask +him again.' + +'All right,' said Fred. 'Stay there if you want to. But I'm going to +shoot off this gun into the branches just for fun.' + +And then the man started to come down. As soon as he touched the ground +I jumped up at him. + +'This is fine!' I said 'Here's my friend Fred. You'll like him.' + +But it wasn't any good. They didn't get along together at all. They +hardly spoke. The man went into the house, and Fred went after him, +carrying his gun. And when they got into the house it was just the +same. The man sat in one chair, and Fred sat in another, and after a +long time some men came in a motor-car, and the man went away with +them. He didn't say good-bye to me. + +When he had gone, Fred and his father made a great fuss of me. I +couldn't understand it. Men are so odd. The man wasn't a bit pleased +that I had brought him and Fred together, but Fred seemed as if he +couldn't do enough for me for having introduced him to the man. +However, Fred's father produced some cold ham--my favourite dish--and +gave me quite a lot of it, so I stopped worrying over the thing. As +mother used to say, 'Don't bother your head about what doesn't concern +you. The only thing a dog need concern himself with is the +bill-of-fare. Eat your bun, and don't make yourself busy about other +people's affairs.' Mother's was in some ways a narrow outlook, but she +had a great fund of sterling common sense. + + + +II. _He Moves in Society_ + +It was one of those things which are really nobody's fault. It was not +the chauffeur's fault, and it was not mine. I was having a friendly +turn-up with a pal of mine on the side-walk; he ran across the road; I +ran after him; and the car came round the corner and hit me. It must +have been going pretty slow, or I should have been killed. As it was, I +just had the breath knocked out of me. You know how you feel when the +butcher catches you just as you are edging out of the shop with a bit +of meat. It was like that. + +I wasn't taking much interest in things for awhile, but when I did I +found that I was the centre of a group of three--the chauffeur, a small +boy, and the small boy's nurse. + +The small boy was very well-dressed, and looked delicate. He was +crying. + +'Poor doggie,' he said, 'poor doggie.' + +'It wasn't my fault, Master Peter,' said the chauffeur respectfully. +'He run out into the road before I seen him.' + +'That's right,' I put in, for I didn't want to get the man into +trouble. + +'Oh, he's not dead,' said the small boy. 'He barked.' + +'He growled,' said the nurse. 'Come away, Master Peter. He might bite +you.' + +Women are trying sometimes. It is almost as if they deliberately +misunderstood. + +'I won't come away. I'm going to take him home with me and send for the +doctor to come and see him. He's going to be my dog.' + +This sounded all right. Goodness knows I am no snob, and can rough it +when required, but I do like comfort when it comes my way, and it +seemed to me that this was where I got it. And I liked the boy. He was +the right sort. + +The nurse, a very unpleasant woman, had to make objections. + +'Master Peter! You can't take him home, a great, rough, fierce, common +dog! What would your mother say?' + +'I'm going to take him home,' repeated the child, with a determination +which I heartily admired, 'and he's going to be my dog. I shall call +him Fido.' + +There's always a catch in these good things. Fido is a name I +particularly detest. All dogs do. There was a dog called that that I +knew once, and he used to get awfully sick when we shouted it out after +him in the street. No doubt there have been respectable dogs called +Fido, but to my mind it is a name like Aubrey or Clarence. You may be +able to live it down, but you start handicapped. However, one must take +the rough with the smooth, and I was prepared to yield the point. + +'If you wait, Master Peter, your father will buy you a beautiful, +lovely dog....' + +'I don't want a beautiful, lovely dog. I want this dog.' + +The slur did not wound me. I have no illusions about my looks. Mine is +an honest, but not a beautiful, face. + +'It's no use talking,' said the chauffeur, grinning. 'He means to have +him. Shove him in, and let's be getting back, or they'll be thinking +His Nibs has been kidnapped.' + +So I was carried to the car. I could have walked, but I had an idea +that I had better not. I had made my hit as a crippled dog, and a +crippled dog I intended to remain till things got more settled down. + +The chauffeur started the car off again. What with the shock I had had +and the luxury of riding in a motor-car, I was a little distrait, and I +could not say how far we went. But it must have been miles and miles, +for it seemed a long time afterwards that we stopped at the biggest +house I have ever seen. There were smooth lawns and flower-beds, and +men in overalls, and fountains and trees, and, away to the right, +kennels with about a million dogs in them, all pushing their noses +through the bars and shouting. They all wanted to know who I was and +what prizes I had won, and then I realized that I was moving in high +society. + +I let the small boy pick me up and carry me into the house, though it +was all he could do, poor kid, for I was some weight. He staggered up +the steps and along a great hall, and then let me flop on the carpet of +the most beautiful room you ever saw. The carpet was a yard thick. + +There was a woman sitting in a chair, and as soon as she saw me she +gave a shriek. + +'I told Master Peter you would not be pleased, m'lady,' said the nurse, +who seemed to have taken a positive dislike to me, 'but he would bring +the nasty brute home.' + +'He's not a nasty brute, mother. He's my dog, and his name's Fido. John +ran over him in the car, and I brought him home to live with us. I love +him.' + +This seemed to make an impression. Peter's mother looked as if she were +weakening. + +'But, Peter, dear, I don't know what your father will say. He's so +particular about dogs. All his dogs are prize-winners, pedigree dogs. +This is such a mongrel.' + +'A nasty, rough, ugly, common dog, m'lady,' said the nurse, sticking +her oar in in an absolutely uncalled-for way. + +Just then a man came into the room. + +'What on earth?' he said, catching sight of me. + +'It's a dog Peter has brought home. He says he wants to keep him.' + +'I'm going to keep him,' corrected Peter firmly. + +I do like a child that knows his own mind. I was getting fonder of +Peter every minute. I reached up and licked his hand. + +'See! He knows he's my dog, don't you, Fido? He licked me.' + +'But, Peter, he looks so fierce.' This, unfortunately, is true. I do +look fierce. It is rather a misfortune for a perfectly peaceful dog. +'I'm sure it's not safe your having him.' + +'He's my dog, and his name's Fido. I am going to tell cook to give him +a bone.' + +His mother looked at his father, who gave rather a nasty laugh. + +'My dear Helen,' he said, 'ever since Peter was born, ten years ago, he +has not asked for a single thing, to the best of my recollection, which +he has not got. Let us be consistent. I don't approve of this +caricature of a dog, but if Peter wants him, I suppose he must have +him.' + +'Very well. But the first sign of viciousness he shows, he shall be +shot. He makes me nervous.' + +So they left it at that, and I went off with Peter to get my bone. + +After lunch, he took me to the kennels to introduce me to the other +dogs. I had to go, but I knew it would not be pleasant, and it wasn't. +Any dog will tell you what these prize-ribbon dogs are like. Their +heads are so swelled they have to go into their kennels backwards. + +It was just as I had expected. There were mastiffs, terriers, poodles, +spaniels, bulldogs, sheepdogs, and every other kind of dog you can +imagine, all prize-winners at a hundred shows, and every single dog in +the place just shoved his head back and laughed himself sick. I never +felt so small in my life, and I was glad when it was over and Peter +took me off to the stables. + +I was just feeling that I never wanted to see another dog in my life, +when a terrier ran out, shouting. As soon as he saw me, he came up +inquiringly, walking very stiff-legged, as terriers do when they see a +stranger. + +'Well,' I said, 'and what particular sort of a prize-winner are you? +Tell me all about the ribbons they gave you at the Crystal Palace, and +let's get it over.' + +He laughed in a way that did me good. + +'Guess again!' he said. 'Did you take me for one of the nuts in the +kennels? My name's Jack, and I belong to one of the grooms.' + +'What!' I cried. 'You aren't Champion Bowlegs Royal or anything of that +sort! I'm glad to meet you.' + +So we rubbed noses as friendly as you please. It was a treat meeting +one of one's own sort. I had had enough of those high-toned dogs who +look at you as if you were something the garbage-man had forgotten to +take away. + +'So you've been talking to the swells, have you?' said Jack. + +'He would take me,' I said, pointing to Peter. + +'Oh, you're his latest, are you? Then you're all right--while it +lasts.' + +'How do you mean, while it lasts?' + +'Well, I'll tell you what happened to me. Young Peter took a great +fancy to me once. Couldn't do enough for me for a while. Then he got +tired of me, and out I went. You see, the trouble is that while he's a +perfectly good kid, he has always had everything he wanted since he was +born, and he gets tired of things pretty easy. It was a toy railway +that finished me. Directly he got that, I might not have been on the +earth. It was lucky for me that Dick, my present old man, happened to +want a dog to keep down the rats, or goodness knows what might not have +happened to me. They aren't keen on dogs here unless they've pulled +down enough blue ribbons to sink a ship, and mongrels like you and +me--no offence--don't last long. I expect you noticed that the +grown-ups didn't exactly cheer when you arrived?' + +'They weren't chummy.' + +'Well take it from me, your only chance is to make them chummy. If you +do something to please them, they might let you stay on, even though +Peter was tired of you.' + +'What sort of thing?' + +'That's for you to think out. I couldn't find one. I might tell you to +save Peter from drowning. You don't need a pedigree to do that. But you +can't drag the kid to the lake and push him in. That's the trouble. A +dog gets so few opportunities. But, take it from me, if you don't do +something within two weeks to make yourself solid with the adults, you +can make your will. In two weeks Peter will have forgotten all about +you. It's not his fault. It's the way he has been brought up. His +father has all the money on earth, and Peter's the only child. You +can't blame him. All I say is, look out for yourself. Well, I'm glad to +have met you. Drop in again when you can. I can give you some good +ratting, and I have a bone or two put away. So long.' + + * * * * * + +It worried me badly what Jack had said. I couldn't get it out of my +mind. If it hadn't been for that, I should have had a great time, for +Peter certainly made a lot of fuss of me. He treated me as if I were +the only friend he had. + +And, in a way, I was. When you are the only son of a man who has all +the money in the world, it seems that you aren't allowed to be like an +ordinary kid. They coop you up, as if you were something precious that +would be contaminated by contact with other children. In all the time +that I was at the house I never met another child. Peter had everything +in the world, except someone of his own age to go round with; and that +made him different from any of the kids I had known. + +He liked talking to me. I was the only person round who really +understood him. He would talk by the hour and I would listen with my +tongue hanging out and nod now and then. + +It was worth listening to, what he used to tell me. He told me the most +surprising things. I didn't know, for instance, that there were any Red +Indians in England but he said there was a chief named Big Cloud who +lived in the rhododendron bushes by the lake. I never found him, though +I went carefully through them one day. He also said that there were +pirates on the island in the lake. I never saw them either. + +What he liked telling me about best was the city of gold and precious +stones which you came to if you walked far enough through the woods at +the back of the stables. He was always meaning to go off there some +day, and, from the way he described it, I didn't blame him. It was +certainly a pretty good city. It was just right for dogs, too, he said, +having bones and liver and sweet cakes there and everything else a dog +could want. It used to make my mouth water to listen to him. + +We were never apart. I was with him all day, and I slept on the mat in +his room at night. But all the time I couldn't get out of my mind what +Jack had said. I nearly did once, for it seemed to me that I was so +necessary to Peter that nothing could separate us; but just as I was +feeling safe his father gave him a toy aeroplane, which flew when you +wound it up. The day he got it, I might not have been on the earth. I +trailed along, but he hadn't a word to say to me. + +Well, something went wrong with the aeroplane the second day, and it +wouldn't fly, and then I was in solid again; but I had done some hard +thinking and I knew just where I stood. I was the newest toy, that's +what I was, and something newer might come along at any moment, and +then it would be the finish for me. The only thing for me was to do +something to impress the adults, just as Jack had said. + +Goodness knows I tried. But everything I did turned out wrong. There +seemed to be a fate about it. One morning, for example, I was trotting +round the house early, and I met a fellow I could have sworn was a +burglar. He wasn't one of the family, and he wasn't one of the +servants, and he was hanging round the house in a most suspicious way. +I chased him up a tree, and it wasn't till the family came down to +breakfast, two hours later, that I found that he was a guest who had +arrived overnight, and had come out early to enjoy the freshness of the +morning and the sun shining on the lake, he being that sort of man. +That didn't help me much. + +Next, I got in wrong with the boss, Peter's father. I don't know why. I +met him out in the park with another man, both carrying bundles of +sticks and looking very serious and earnest. Just as I reached him, the +boss lifted one of the sticks and hit a small white ball with it. He +had never seemed to want to play with me before, and I took it as a +great compliment. I raced after the ball, which he had hit quite a long +way, picked it up in my mouth, and brought it back to him. I laid it at +his feet, and smiled up at him. + +'Hit it again,' I said. + +He wasn't pleased at all. He said all sorts of things and tried to kick +me, and that night, when he thought I was not listening, I heard him +telling his wife that I was a pest and would have to be got rid of. +That made me think. + +And then I put the lid on it. With the best intentions in the world I +got myself into such a mess that I thought the end had come. + +It happened one afternoon in the drawing-room. There were visitors that +day--women; and women seem fatal to me. I was in the background, trying +not to be seen, for, though I had been brought in by Peter, the family +never liked my coming into the drawing-room. I was hoping for a piece +of cake and not paying much attention to the conversation, which was +all about somebody called Toto, whom I had not met. Peter's mother said +Toto was a sweet little darling, he was; and one of the visitors said +Toto had not been at all himself that day and she was quite worried. +And a good lot more about how all that Toto would ever take for dinner +was a little white meat of chicken, chopped up fine. It was not very +interesting, and I had allowed my attention to wander. + +And just then, peeping round the corner of my chair to see if there +were any signs of cake, what should I see but a great beastly brute of +a rat. It was standing right beside the visitor, drinking milk out of a +saucer, if you please! + +I may have my faults, but procrastination in the presence of rats is +not one of them. I didn't hesitate for a second. Here was my chance. If +there is one thing women hate, it is a rat. Mother always used to say, +'If you want to succeed in life, please the women. They are the real +bosses. The men don't count.' By eliminating this rodent I should earn +the gratitude and esteem of Peter's mother, and, if I did that, it did +not matter what Peter's father thought of me. + +I sprang. + +The rat hadn't a chance to get away. I was right on to him. I got hold +of his neck, gave him a couple of shakes, and chucked him across the +room. Then I ran across to finish him off. + +Just as I reached him, he sat up and barked at me. I was never so taken +aback in my life. I pulled up short and stared at him. + +'I'm sure I beg your pardon, sir,' I said apologetically. 'I thought +you were a rat.' + +And then everything broke loose. Somebody got me by the collar, +somebody else hit me on the head with a parasol, and somebody else +kicked me in the ribs. Everybody talked and shouted at the same time. + +'Poor darling Toto!' cried the visitor, snatching up the little animal. +'Did the great savage brute try to murder you!' + +'So absolutely unprovoked!' + +'He just flew at the poor little thing!' + +It was no good my trying to explain. Any dog in my place would have +made the same mistake. The creature was a toy-dog of one of those +extraordinary breeds--a prize-winner and champion, and so on, of +course, and worth his weight in gold. I would have done better to bite +the visitor than Toto. That much I gathered from the general run of the +conversation, and then, having discovered that the door was shut, I +edged under the sofa. I was embarrassed. + +'That settles it!' said Peter's mother. 'The dog is not safe. He must +be shot.' + +Peter gave a yell at this, but for once he didn't swing the voting an +inch. + +'Be quiet, Peter,' said his mother. 'It is not safe for you to have +such a dog. He may be mad.' + +Women are very unreasonable. + +Toto, of course, wouldn't say a word to explain how the mistake arose. +He was sitting on the visitor's lap, shrieking about what he would have +done to me if they hadn't separated us. + +Somebody felt cautiously under the sofa. I recognized the shoes of +Weeks, the butler. I suppose they had rung for him to come and take me, +and I could see that he wasn't half liking it. I was sorry for Weeks, +who was a friend of mine, so I licked his hand, and that seemed to +cheer him up a whole lot. + +'I have him now, madam,' I heard him say. + +'Take him to the stables and tie him up, Weeks, and tell one of the men +to bring his gun and shoot him. He is not safe.' + +A few minutes later I was in an empty stall, tied up to the manger. + +It was all over. It had been pleasant while it lasted, but I had +reached the end of my tether now. I don't think I was frightened, but a +sense of pathos stole over me. I had meant so well. It seemed as if +good intentions went for nothing in this world. I had tried so hard to +please everybody, and this was the result--tied up in a dark stable, +waiting for the end. + +The shadows lengthened in the stable-yard, and still nobody came. I +began to wonder if they had forgotten me, and presently, in spite of +myself, a faint hope began to spring up inside me that this might mean +that I was not to be shot after all. Perhaps Toto at the eleventh hour +had explained everything. + +And then footsteps sounded outside, and the hope died away. I shut my +eyes. + +Somebody put his arms round my neck, and my nose touched a warm cheek. +I opened my eyes. It was not the man with the gun come to shoot me. It +was Peter. He was breathing very hard, and he had been crying. + +'Quiet!' he whispered. + +He began to untie the rope. + +'You must keep quite quiet, or they will hear us, and then we shall be +stopped. I'm going to take you into the woods, and we'll walk and walk +until we come to the city I told you about that's all gold and +diamonds, and we'll live there for the rest of our lives, and no one +will be able to hurt us. But you must keep very quiet.' + +He went to the stable-gate and looked out. Then he gave a little +whistle to me to come after him. And we started out to find the city. + +The woods were a long way away, down a hill of long grass and across a +stream; and we went very carefully, keeping in the shadows and running +across the open spaces. And every now and then we would stop and look +back, but there was nobody to be seen. The sun was setting, and +everything was very cool and quiet. + +Presently we came to the stream and crossed it by a little wooden +bridge, and then we were in the woods, where nobody could see us. + +I had never been in the woods before, and everything was very new and +exciting to me. There were squirrels and rabbits and birds, more than I +had ever seen in my life, and little things that buzzed and flew and +tickled my ears. I wanted to rush about and look at everything, but +Peter called to me, and I came to heel. He knew where we were going, +and I didn't, so I let him lead. + +We went very slowly. The wood got thicker and thicker the farther we +got into it. There were bushes that were difficult to push through, and +long branches, covered with thorns, that reached out at you and tore at +you when you tried to get away. And soon it was quite dark, so dark +that I could see nothing, not even Peter, though he was so close. We +went slower and slower, and the darkness was full of queer noises. From +time to time Peter would stop, and I would run to him and put my nose +in his hand. At first he patted me, but after a while he did not pat me +any more, but just gave me his hand to lick, as if it was too much for +him to lift it. I think he was getting very tired. He was quite a small +boy and not strong, and we had walked a long way. + +It seemed to be getting darker and darker. I could hear the sound of +Peter's footsteps, and they seemed to drag as he forced his way through +the bushes. And then, quite suddenly, he sat down without any warning, +and when I ran up I heard him crying. + +I suppose there are lots of dogs who would have known exactly the right +thing to do, but I could not think of anything except to put my nose +against his cheek and whine. He put his arm round my neck, and for a +long time we stayed like that, saying nothing. It seemed to comfort +him, for after a time he stopped crying. + +I did not bother him by asking about the wonderful city where we were +going, for he was so tired. But I could not help wondering if we were +near it. There was not a sign of any city, nothing but darkness and odd +noises and the wind singing in the trees. Curious little animals, such +as I had never smelt before, came creeping out of the bushes to look at +us. I would have chased them, but Peter's arm was round my neck and I +could not leave him. But when something that smelt like a rabbit came +so near that I could have reached out a paw and touched it, I turned my +head and snapped; and then they all scurried back into the bushes and +there were no more noises. + +There was a long silence. Then Peter gave a great gulp. + +'I'm not frightened,' he said. 'I'm not!' + +I shoved my head closer against his chest. There was another silence +for a long time. + +'I'm going to pretend we have been captured by brigands,' said Peter at +last. 'Are you listening? There were three of them, great big men with +beards, and they crept up behind me and snatched me up and took me out +here to their lair. This is their lair. One was called Dick, the +others' names were Ted and Alfred. They took hold of me and brought me +all the way through the wood till we got here, and then they went off, +meaning to come back soon. And while they were away, you missed me and +tracked me through the woods till you found me here. And then the +brigands came back, and they didn't know you were here, and you kept +quite quiet till Dick was quite near, and then you jumped out and bit +him and he ran away. And then you bit Ted and you bit Alfred, and they +ran away too. And so we were left all alone, and I was quite safe +because you were here to look after me. And then--And then--' + +His voice died away, and the arm that was round my neck went limp, and +I could hear by his breathing that he was asleep. His head was resting +on my back, but I didn't move. I wriggled a little closer to make him +as comfortable as I could, and then I went to sleep myself. + +I didn't sleep very well I had funny dreams all the time, thinking +these little animals were creeping up close enough out of the bushes +for me to get a snap at them without disturbing Peter. + +If I woke once, I woke a dozen times, but there was never anything +there. The wind sang in the trees and the bushes rustled, and far away +in the distance the frogs were calling. + +And then I woke once more with the feeling that this time something +really was coming through the bushes. I lifted my head as far as I +could, and listened. For a little while nothing happened, and then, +straight in front of me, I saw lights. And there was a sound of +trampling in the undergrowth. + +It was no time to think about not waking Peter. This was something +definite, something that had to be attended to quick. I was up with a +jump, yelling. Peter rolled off my back and woke up, and he sat there +listening, while I stood with my front paws on him and shouted at the +men. I was bristling all over. I didn't know who they were or what they +wanted, but the way I looked at it was that anything could happen in +those woods at that time of night, and, if anybody was coming along to +start something, he had got to reckon with me. + +Somebody called, 'Peter! Are you there, Peter?' + +There was a crashing in the bushes, the lights came nearer and nearer, +and then somebody said 'Here he is!' and there was a lot of shouting. I +stood where I was, ready to spring if necessary, for I was taking no +chances. + +'Who are you?' I shouted. 'What do you want?' A light flashed in my +eyes. + +'Why, it's that dog!' + +Somebody came into the light, and I saw it was the boss. He was looking +very anxious and scared, and he scooped Peter up off the ground and +hugged him tight. + +Peter was only half awake. He looked up at the boss drowsily, and began +to talk about brigands, and Dick and Ted and Alfred, the same as he had +said to me. There wasn't a sound till he had finished. Then the boss +spoke. + +'Kidnappers! I thought as much. And the dog drove them away!' + +For the first time in our acquaintance he actually patted me. + +'Good old man!' he said. + +'He's my dog,' said Peter sleepily, 'and he isn't to be shot.' + +'He certainly isn't, my boy,' said the boss. 'From now on he's the +honoured guest. He shall wear a gold collar and order what he wants for +dinner. And now let's be getting home. It's time you were in bed.' + + * * * * * + +Mother used to say, 'If you're a good dog, you will be happy. If you're +not, you won't,' but it seems to me that in this world it is all a +matter of luck. When I did everything I could to please people, they +wanted to shoot me; and when I did nothing except run away, they +brought me back and treated me better than the most valuable +prize-winner in the kennels. It was puzzling at first, but one day I +heard the boss talking to a friend who had come down from the city. + +The friend looked at me and said, 'What an ugly mongrel! Why on earth +do you have him about? I thought you were so particular about your +dogs?' + +And the boss replied, 'He may be a mongrel, but he can have anything he +wants in this house. Didn't you hear how he saved Peter from being +kidnapped?' + +And out it all came about the brigands. + +'The kid called them brigands,' said the boss. 'I suppose that's how it +would strike a child of that age. But he kept mentioning the name Dick, +and that put the police on the scent. It seems there's a kidnapper well +known to the police all over the country as Dick the Snatcher. It was +almost certainly that scoundrel and his gang. How they spirited the +child away, goodness knows, but they managed it, and the dog tracked +them and scared them off. We found him and Peter together in the woods. +It was a narrow escape, and we have to thank this animal here for it.' + +What could I say? It was no more use trying to put them right than it +had been when I mistook Toto for a rat. Peter had gone to sleep that +night pretending about the brigands to pass the time, and when he awoke +he still believed in them. He was that sort of child. There was nothing +that I could do about it. + +Round the corner, as the boss was speaking, I saw the kennel-man coming +with a plate in his hand. It smelt fine, and he was headed straight for +me. + +He put the plate down before me. It was liver, which I love. + +'Yes,' went on the boss, 'if it hadn't been for him, Peter would have +been kidnapped and scared half to death, and I should be poorer, I +suppose, by whatever the scoundrels had chosen to hold me up for.' + +I am an honest dog, and hate to obtain credit under false pretences, +but--liver is liver. I let it go at that. + + + + +CROWNED HEADS + + +Katie had never been more surprised in her life than when the serious +young man with the brown eyes and the Charles Dana Gibson profile +spirited her away from his friend and Genevieve. Till that moment she +had looked on herself as playing a sort of 'villager and retainer' part +to the brown-eyed young man's hero and Genevieve's heroine. She knew +she was not pretty, though somebody (unidentified) had once said that +she had nice eyes; whereas Genevieve was notoriously a beauty, +incessantly pestered, so report had it, by musical comedy managers to +go on the stage. + +Genevieve was tall and blonde, a destroyer of masculine peace of mind. +She said 'harf' and 'rahther', and might easily have been taken for an +English duchess instead of a cloak-model at Macey's. You would have +said, in short, that, in the matter of personable young men, Genevieve +would have swept the board. Yet, here was this one deliberately +selecting her, Katie, for his companion. It was almost a miracle. + +He had managed it with the utmost dexterity at the merry-go-round. With +winning politeness he had assisted Genevieve on her wooden steed, and +then, as the machinery began to work, had grasped Katie's arm and led +her at a rapid walk out into the sunlight. Katie's last glimpse of +Genevieve had been the sight of her amazed and offended face as it +whizzed round the corner, while the steam melodeon drowned protests +with a spirited plunge into 'Alexander's Ragtime Band'. + +Katie felt shy. This young man was a perfect stranger. It was true she +had had a formal introduction to him, but only from Genevieve, who had +scraped acquaintance with him exactly two minutes previously. It had +happened on the ferry-boat on the way to Palisades Park. Genevieve's +bright eye, roving among the throng on the lower deck, had singled out +this young man and his companion as suitable cavaliers for the +expedition. The young man pleased her, and his friend, with the broken +nose and the face like a good-natured bulldog, was obviously suitable +for Katie. + +Etiquette is not rigid on New York ferry-boats. Without fuss or delay +she proceeded to make their acquaintance--to Katie's concern, for she +could never get used to Genevieve's short way with strangers. The quiet +life she had led had made her almost prudish, and there were times when +Genevieve's conduct shocked her. Of course, she knew there was no harm +in Genevieve. As the latter herself had once put it, 'The feller that +tries to get gay with me is going to get a call-down that'll make him +holler for his winter overcoat.' But all the same she could not +approve. And the net result of her disapproval was to make her shy and +silent as she walked by this young man's side. + +The young man seemed to divine her thoughts. + +'Say, I'm on the level,' he observed. 'You want to get that. Right on +the square. See?' + +'Oh, yes,' said Katie, relieved but yet embarrassed. It was awkward to +have one's thoughts read like this. + +'You ain't like your friend. Don't think I don't see that.' + +'Genevieve's a sweet girl,' said Katie, loyally. + +'A darned sight too sweet. Somebody ought to tell her mother.' + +'Why did you speak to her if you did not like her?' + +'Wanted to get to know you,' said the young man simply. + +They walked on in silence. Katie's heart was beating with a rapidity +that forbade speech. Nothing like this very direct young man had ever +happened to her before. She had grown so accustomed to regarding +herself as something too insignificant and unattractive for the notice +of the lordly male that she was overwhelmed. She had a vague feeling +that there was a mistake somewhere. It surely could not be she who was +proving so alluring to this fairy prince. The novelty of the situation +frightened her. + +'Come here often?' asked her companion. + +'I've never been here before.' + +'Often go to Coney?' + +'I've never been.' + +He regarded her with astonishment. + +'You've never been to Coney Island! Why, you don't know what this sort +of thing is till you've taken in Coney. This place isn't on the map +with Coney. Do you mean to say you've never seen Luna Park, or +Dreamland, or Steeplechase, or the diving ducks? Haven't you had a look +at the Mardi Gras stunts? Why, Coney during Mardi Gras is the greatest +thing on earth. It's a knockout. Just about a million boys and girls +having the best time that ever was. Say, I guess you don't go out much, +do you?' + +'Not much.' + +'If it's not a rude question, what do you do? I been trying to place you +all along. Now I reckon your friend works in a store, don't she?' + +'Yes. She's a cloak-model. She has a lovely figure, hasn't she?' + +'Didn't notice it. I guess so, if she's what you say. It's what they +pay her for, ain't it? Do you work in a store, too?' + +'Not exactly. I keep a little shop.' + +'All by yourself?' + +'I do all the work now. It was my father's shop, but he's dead. It +began by being my grandfather's. He started it. But he's so old now +that, of course, he can't work any longer, so I look after things.' + +'Say, you're a wonder! What sort of a shop?' + +'It's only a little second-hand bookshop. There really isn't much to +do.' + +'Where is it?' + +'Sixth Avenue. Near Washington Square.' + +'What name?' + +'Bennett.' + +'That's your name, then?' + +'Yes.' + +'Anything besides Bennett?' + +'My name's Kate.' + +The young man nodded. + +'I'd make a pretty good district attorney,' he said, disarming possible +resentment at this cross-examination. 'I guess you're wondering if I'm +ever going to stop asking you questions. Well, what would you like to +do?' + +'Don't you think we ought to go back and find your friend and +Genevieve? They will be wondering where we are.' + +'Let 'em,' said the young man briefly. 'I've had all I want of Jenny.' + +'I can't understand why you don't like her.' + +'I like you. Shall we have some ice-cream, or would you rather go on +the Scenic Railway?' + +Katie decided on the more peaceful pleasure. They resumed their walk, +socially licking two cones. Out of the corner of her eyes Katie cast +swift glances at her friend's face. He was a very grave young man. +There was something important as well as handsome about him. Once, as +they made their way through the crowds, she saw a couple of boys look +almost reverently at him. She wondered who he could be, but was too shy +to inquire. She had got over her nervousness to a great extent, but +there were still limits to what she felt herself equal to saying. It +did not strike her that it was only fair that she should ask a few +questions in return for those which he had put. She had always +repressed herself, and she did so now. She was content to be with him +without finding out his name and history. + +He supplied the former just before he finally consented to let her go. + +They were standing looking over the river. The sun had spent its force, +and it was cool and pleasant in the breeze which was coming up the +Hudson. Katie was conscious of a vague feeling that was almost +melancholy. It had been a lovely afternoon, and she was sorry that it +was over. + +The young man shuffled his feet on the loose stones. + +'I'm mighty glad I met you,' he said. 'Say, I'm coming to see you. On +Sixth Avenue. Don't mind, do you?' + +He did not wait for a reply. + +'Brady's my name. Ted Brady, Glencoe Athletic Club,' he paused. 'I'm on +the level,' he added, and paused again. 'I like you a whole lot. There's +your friend, Genevieve. Better go after her, hadn't you? Good-bye.' And +he was gone, walking swiftly through the crowd about the bandstand. + +Katie went back to Genevieve, and Genevieve was simply horrid. Cold and +haughty, a beautiful iceberg of dudgeon, she refused to speak a single +word during the whole long journey back to Sixth Avenue. And Katie, +whose tender heart would at other times have been tortured by this +hostility, leant back in her seat, and was happy. Her mind was far away +from Genevieve's frozen gloom, living over again the wonderful +happenings of the afternoon. + +Yes, it had been a wonderful afternoon, but trouble was waiting for her +in Sixth Avenue. Trouble was never absent for very long from Katie's +unselfish life. Arriving at the little bookshop, she found Mr Murdoch, +the glazier, preparing for departure. Mr Murdoch came in on Mondays, +Wednesdays, and Fridays to play draughts with her grandfather, who was +paralysed from the waist, and unable to leave the house except when +Katie took him for his outing in Washington Square each morning in his +bath-chair. + +Mr Murdoch welcomed Katie with joy. + +'I was wondering whenever you would come back, Katie. I'm afraid the +old man's a little upset.' + +'Not ill?' + +'Not ill. Upset. And it was my fault, too. Thinking he'd be interested, +I read him a piece from the paper where I seen about these English +Suffragettes, and he just went up in the air. I guess he'll be all +right now you've come back. I was a fool to read it, I reckon. I kind +of forgot for the moment.' + +'Please don't worry yourself about it, Mr Murdoch. He'll be all right +soon. I'll go to him.' + +In the inner room the old man was sitting. His face was flushed, and he +gesticulated from time to time. + +'I won't have it,' he cried as Katie entered. 'I tell you I won't have +it. If Parliament can't do anything, I'll send Parliament about its +business.' + +'Here I am, grandpapa,' said Katie quickly. 'I've had the greatest +time. It was lovely up there. I--' + +'I tell you it's got to stop. I've spoken about it before. I won't have +it.' + +'I expect they're doing their best. It's your being so far away that +makes it hard for them. But I do think you might write them a very +sharp letter.' + +'I will. I will. Get out the paper. Are you ready?' He stopped, and +looked piteously at Katie. 'I don't know what to say. I don't know how +to begin.' + +Katie scribbled a few lines. + +'How would this do? "His Majesty informs his Government that he is +greatly surprised and indignant that no notice has been taken of his +previous communications. If this goes on, he will be reluctantly +compelled to put the matter in other hands."' + +She read it glibly as she had written it. The formula had been a +favourite one of her late father, when roused to fall upon offending +patrons of the bookshop. + +The old man beamed. His resentment was gone. He was soothed and happy. + +'That'll wake 'em up,' he said. 'I won't have these goings on while I'm +king, and if they don't like it, they know what to do. You're a good +girl, Katie.' + +He chuckled. + +'I beat Lord Murdoch five games to nothing,' he said. + +It was now nearly two years since the morning when old Matthew Bennett +had announced to an audience consisting of Katie and a smoky blue cat, +which had wandered in from Washington Square to take pot-luck, that he +was the King of England. + +This was a long time for any one delusion of the old man's to last. +Usually they came and went with a rapidity which made it hard for +Katie, for all her tact, to keep abreast of them. She was not likely to +forget the time when he went to bed President Roosevelt and woke up the +Prophet Elijah. It was the only occasion in all the years they had +passed together when she had felt like giving way and indulging in the +fit of hysterics which most girls of her age would have had as a matter +of course. + +She had handled that crisis, and she handled the present one with equal +smoothness. When her grandfather made his announcement, which he did +rather as one stating a generally recognized fact than as if the +information were in any way sensational, she neither screamed nor +swooned, nor did she rush to the neighbours for advice. She merely gave +the old man his breakfast, not forgetting to set aside a suitable +portion for the smoky cat, and then went round to notify Mr Murdoch of +what had happened. + +Mr Murdoch, excellent man, received the news without any fuss or +excitement at all, and promised to look in on Schwartz, the stout +saloon-keeper, who was Mr Bennett's companion and antagonist at +draughts on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, and, as he expressed +it, put him wise. + +Life ran comfortably in the new groove. Old Mr Bennett continued to +play draughts and pore over his second-hand classics. Every morning he +took his outing in Washington Square where, from his invalid's chair, +he surveyed somnolent Italians and roller-skating children with his old +air of kindly approval. Katie, whom circumstances had taught to be +thankful for small mercies, was perfectly happy in the shadow of the +throne. She liked her work; she liked looking after her grandfather; +and now that Ted Brady had come into her life, she really began to look +on herself as an exceptionally lucky girl, a spoilt favourite of +Fortune. + +For Ted Brady had called, as he said he would, and from the very first +he had made plain in his grave, direct way the objects of his visits. +There was no subtlety about Ted, no finesse. He was as frank as a +music-hall love song. + +On his first visit, having handed Katie a large bunch of roses with the +stolidity of a messenger boy handing over a parcel, he had proceeded, +by way of establishing his _bona fides_, to tell her all about +himself. He supplied the facts in no settled order, just as they +happened to occur to him in the long silences with which his speech was +punctuated. Small facts jostled large facts. He spoke of his morals and +his fox-terrier in the same breath. + +'I'm on the level. Ask anyone who knows me. They'll tell you that. Say, +I got the cutest little dog you ever seen. Do you like dogs? I've never +been a fellow that's got himself mixed up with girls. I don't like 'em +as a general thing. A fellow's got too much to do keeping himself in +training, if his club expects him to do things. I belong to the Glencoe +Athletic. I ran the hundred yards dash in evens last sports there was. +They expect me to do it at the Glencoe, so I've never got myself mixed +up with girls. Till I seen you that afternoon I reckon I'd hardly +looked at a girl, honest. They didn't seem to kind of make any hit with +me. And then I seen you, and I says to myself, "That's the one." It +sort of came over me in a flash. I fell for you directly I seen you. +And I'm on the level. Don't forget that.' + +And more in the same strain, leaning on the counter and looking into +Katie's eyes with a devotion that added emphasis to his measured +speech. + +Next day he came again, and kissed her respectfully but firmly, making +a sort of shuffling dive across the counter. Breaking away, he fumbled +in his pocket and produced a ring, which he proceeded to place on her +finger with the serious air which accompanied all his actions. + +'That looks pretty good to me,' he said, as he stepped back and eyed +it. + +It struck Katie, when he had gone, how differently different men did +things. Genevieve had often related stories of men who had proposed to +her, and according to Genevieve, they always got excited and emotional, +and sometimes cried. Ted Brady had fitted her with the ring more like a +glover's assistant than anything else, and he had hardly spoken a word +from beginning to end. He had seemed to take her acquiescence for +granted. And yet there had been nothing flat or disappointing about the +proceedings. She had been thrilled throughout. It is to be supposed +that Mr Brady had the force of character which does not require the aid +of speech. + +It was not till she took the news of her engagement to old Mr Bennett +that it was borne in upon Katie that Fate did not intend to be so +wholly benevolent to her as she supposed. + +That her grandfather could offer any opposition had not occurred to her +as a possibility. She took his approval for granted. Never, as long as +she could remember, had he been anything but kind to her. And the only +possible objections to marriage from a grandfather's point of +view--badness of character, insufficient means, or inferiority of +social position--were in this case gloriously absent. + +She could not see how anyone, however hypercritical, could find a flaw +in Ted. His character was spotless. He was comfortably off. And so far +from being in any way inferior socially, it was he who condescended. +For Ted, she had discovered from conversation with Mr Murdoch, the +glazier, was no ordinary young man. He was a celebrity. So much so that +for a moment, when told the news of the engagement, Mr Murdoch, +startled out of his usual tact, had exhibited frank surprise that the +great Ted Brady should not have aimed higher. + +'You're sure you've got the name right, Katie?' he had said. 'It's +really Ted Brady? No mistake about the first name? Well-built, +good-looking young chap with brown eyes? Well, this beats me. Not,' he +went on hurriedly, 'that any young fellow mightn't think himself lucky +to get a wife like you, Katie, but Ted Brady! Why, there isn't a girl +in this part of the town, or in Harlem or the Bronx, for that matter, +who wouldn't give her eyes to be in your place. Why, Ted Brady is the +big noise. He's the star of the Glencoe.' + +'He told me he belonged to the Glencoe Athletic.' + +'Don't you believe it. It belongs to him. Why, the way that boy runs +and jumps is the real limit. There's only Billy Burton, of the +Irish-American, that can touch him. You've certainly got the pick of +the bunch, Katie.' + +He stared at her admiringly, as if for the first time realizing her +true worth. For Mr Murdoch was a great patron of sport. + +With these facts in her possession Katie had approached the interview +with her grandfather with a good deal of confidence. + +The old man listened to her recital of Mr Brady's qualities in silence. +Then he shook his head. + +'It can't be, Katie. I couldn't have it.' + +'Grandpapa!' + +'You're forgetting, my dear.' + +'Forgetting?' + +'Who ever heard of such a thing? The grand-daughter of the King of +England marrying a commoner! It wouldn't do at all.' + +Consternation, surprise, and misery kept Katie dumb. She had learned in +a hard school to be prepared for sudden blows from the hand of fate, +but this one was so entirely unforeseen that it found her unprepared, +and she was crushed by it. She knew her grandfather's obstinacy too +well to argue against the decision. + +'Oh, no, not at all,' he repeated. 'Oh, no, it wouldn't do.' + +Katie said nothing; she was beyond speech. She stood there wide-eyed +and silent among the ruins of her little air-castle. The old man patted +her hand affectionately. He was pleased at her docility. It was the +right attitude, becoming in one of her high rank. + +'I am very sorry, my dear, but--oh, no! oh, no! oh, no--' His voice +trailed away into an unintelligible mutter. He was a very old man, and +he was not always able to concentrate his thoughts on a subject for any +length of time. + +So little did Ted Brady realize at first the true complexity of the +situation that he was inclined, when he heard of the news, to treat the +crisis in the jaunty, dashing, love-laughs-at-locksmith fashion so +popular with young men of spirit when thwarted in their loves by the +interference of parents and guardians. + +It took Katie some time to convince him that, just because he had the +licence in his pocket, he could not snatch her up on his saddle-bow and +carry her off to the nearest clergyman after the manner of young +Lochinvar. + +In the first flush of his resentment at restraint he saw no reason why +he should differentiate between old Mr Bennett and the conventional +banns-forbidding father of the novelettes with which he was accustomed +to sweeten his hours of idleness. To him, till Katie explained the +intricacies of the position, Mr Bennett was simply the proud +millionaire who would not hear of his daughter marrying the artist. + +'But, Ted, dear, you don't understand,' Katie said. 'We simply couldn't +do that. There's no one but me to look after him, poor old man. How +could I run away like that and get married? What would become of him?' + +'You wouldn't be away long,' urged Mr Brady, a man of many parts, but +not a rapid thinker. 'The minister would have us fixed up inside of +half an hour. Then we'd look in at Mouquin's for a steak and fried, +just to make a sort of wedding breakfast. And then back we'd come, +hand-in-hand, and say, "Well, here we are. Now what?"' + +'He would never forgive me.' + +'That,' said Ted judicially, 'would be up to him.' + +'It would kill him. Don't you see, we know that it's all nonsense, this +idea of his; but he really thinks he is the king, and he's so old that +the shock of my disobeying him would be too much. Honest, Ted, dear, I +couldn't.' + +Gloom unutterable darkened Ted Brady's always serious countenance. The +difficulties of the situation were beginning to come home to him. + +'Maybe if I went and saw him--' he suggested at last. + +'You _could_,' said Katie doubtfully. + +Ted tightened his belt with an air of determination, and bit resolutely +on the chewing-gum which was his inseparable companion. + +'I will,' he said. + +'You'll be nice to him, Ted?' + +He nodded. He was the man of action, not words. + +It was perhaps ten minutes before he came out of the inner room in +which Mr Bennett passed his days. When he did, there was no light of +jubilation on his face. His brow was darker than ever. + +Katie looked at him anxiously. He returned the look with a sombre shake +of the head. + +'Nothing doing,' he said shortly. He paused. 'Unless,' he added, 'you +count it anything that he's made me an earl.' + +In the next two weeks several brains busied themselves with the +situation. Genevieve, reconciled to Katie after a decent interval of +wounded dignity, said she supposed there was a way out, if one could +only think of it, but it certainly got past her. The only approach to a +plan of action was suggested by the broken-nosed individual who had +been Ted's companion that day at Palisades Park, a gentleman of some +eminence in the boxing world, who rejoiced in the name of the Tennessee +Bear-Cat. + +What they ought to do, in the Bear-Cat's opinion, was to get the old +man out into Washington Square one morning. He of Tennessee would then +sasshay up in a flip manner and make a break. Ted, waiting close by, +would resent his insolence. There would be words, followed by blows. + +'See what I mean?' pursued the Bear-Cat. 'There's you and me mixing it. +I'll square the cop on the beat to leave us be; he's a friend of mine. +Pretty soon you land me one on the plexus, and I take th' count. Then +there's you hauling me up by th' collar to the old gentleman, and me +saying I quits and apologizing. See what I mean?' + +The whole, presumably, to conclude with warm expressions of gratitude +and esteem from Mr Bennett, and an instant withdrawal of the veto. + +Ted himself approved of the scheme. He said it was a cracker-jaw, and +he wondered how one so notoriously ivory-skulled as the other could +have had such an idea. The Bear-Cat said modestly that he had 'em +sometimes. And it is probable that all would have been well, had it not +been necessary to tell the plan to Katie, who was horrified at the very +idea, spoke warmly of the danger to her grandfather's nervous system, +and said she did not think the Bear-Cat could be a nice friend for Ted. +And matters relapsed into their old state of hopelessness. + +And then, one day, Katie forced herself to tell Ted that she thought it +would be better if they did not see each other for a time. She said +that these meetings were only a source of pain to both of them. It +would really be better if he did not come round for--well, quite some +time. + +It had not been easy for her to say it. The decision was the outcome of +many wakeful nights. She had asked herself the question whether it was +fair for her to keep Ted chained to her in this hopeless fashion, when, +left to himself and away from her, he might so easily find some other +girl to make him happy. + +So Ted went, reluctantly, and the little shop on Sixth Avenue knew him +no more. And Katie spent her time looking after old Mr Bennett (who had +completely forgotten the affair by now, and sometimes wondered why +Katie was not so cheerful as she had been), and--for, though unselfish, +she was human--hating those unknown girls whom in her mind's eye she +could see clustering round Ted, smiling at him, making much of him, and +driving the bare recollection of her out of his mind. + +The summer passed. July came and went, making New York an oven. August +followed, and one wondered why one had complained of July's tepid +advances. + +It was on the evening of September the eleventh that Katie, having +closed the little shop, sat in the dusk on the steps, as many thousands +of her fellow-townsmen and townswomen were doing, turning her face to +the first breeze which New York had known for two months. The hot spell +had broken abruptly that afternoon, and the city was drinking in the +coolness as a flower drinks water. + +From round the corner, where the yellow cross of the Judson Hotel shone +down on Washington Square, came the shouts of children, and the +strains, mellowed by distance, of the indefatigable barrel-organ which +had played the same tunes in the same place since the spring. + +Katie closed her eyes, and listened. It was very peaceful this evening, +so peaceful that for an instant she forgot even to think of Ted. And it +was just during this instant that she heard his voice. + +'That you, kid?' + +He was standing before her, his hands in his pockets, one foot on the +pavement, the other in the road; and if he was agitated, his voice did +not show it. + +'Ted!' + +'That's me. Can I see the old man for a minute, Katie?' + +This time it did seem to her that she could detect a slight ring of +excitement. + +'It's no use, Ted. Honest.' + +'No harm in going in and passing the time of day, is there? I've got +something I want to say to him.' + +'What?' + +'Tell you later, maybe. Is he in his room?' + +He stepped past her, and went in. As he went, he caught her arm and +pressed it, but he did not stop. She saw him go into the inner room and +heard through the door as he closed it behind him, the murmur of +voices. And almost immediately, it seemed to her, her name was called. +It was her grandfather's voice which called, high and excited. The door +opened, and Ted appeared. + +'Come here a minute, Katie, will you?' he said. 'You're wanted.' + +The old man was leaning forward in his chair. He was in a state of +extraordinary excitement. He quivered and jumped. Ted, standing by the +wall, looked as stolid as ever; but his eyes glittered. + +'Katie,' cried the old man, 'this is a most remarkable piece of news. +This gentleman has just been telling me--extraordinary. He--' + +He broke off, and looked at Ted, as he had looked at Katie when he had +tried to write the letter to the Parliament of England. + +Ted's eye, as it met Katie's, was almost defiant. + +'I want to marry you,' he said. + +'Yes, yes,' broke in Mr Bennett, impatiently, 'but--' + +'And I'm a king.' + +'Yes, yes, that's it, that's it, Katie. This gentleman is a king.' + +Once more Ted's eye met Katie's, and this time there was an imploring +look in it. + +'That's right,' he said, slowly. 'I've just been telling your +grandfather I'm the King of Coney Island.' + +'That's it. Of Coney Island.' + +'So there's no objection now to us getting married, kid--Your Royal +Highness. It's a royal alliance, see?' + +'A royal alliance,' echoed Mr Bennett. + +Out in the street, Ted held Katie's hand, and grinned a little +sheepishly. + +'You're mighty quiet, kid,' he said. 'It looks as if it don't make much +of a hit with you, the notion of being married to me.' + +'Oh, Ted! But--' + +He squeezed her hand. + +'I know what you're thinking. I guess it was raw work pulling a tale +like that on the old man. I hated to do it, but gee! when a fellow's up +against it like I was, he's apt to grab most any chance that comes +along. Why, say, kid, it kind of looked to me as if it was sort of +_meant_. Coming just now, like it did, just when it was wanted, +and just when it didn't seem possible it could happen. Why, a week ago +I was nigh on two hundred votes behind Billy Burton. The Irish-American +put him up, and everybody thought he'd be King at the Mardi Gras. And +then suddenly they came pouring in for me, till at the finish I had +Billy looking like a regular has-been. + +'It's funny the way the voting jumps about every year in this Coney +election. It was just Providence, and it didn't seem right to let it go +by. So I went in to the old man, and told him. Say, I tell you I was +just sweating when I got ready to hand it to him. It was an outside +chance he'd remember all about what the Mardi Gras at Coney was, and +just what being a king at it amounted to. Then I remembered you telling +me you'd never been to Coney, so I figured your grandfather wouldn't be +what you'd call well fixed in his information about it, so I took the +chance. + +'I tried him out first. I tried him with Brooklyn. Why, say, from the +way he took it, he'd either never heard of the place, or else he'd +forgotten what it was. I guess he don't remember much, poor old fellow. +Then I mentioned Yonkers. He asked me what Yonkers were. Then I +reckoned it was safe to bring on Coney, and he fell for it right away. +I felt mean, but it had to be done.' + +He caught her up, and swung her into the air with a perfectly impassive +face. Then, having kissed her, he lowered her gently to the ground +again. The action seemed to have relieved his feelings, for when he +spoke again it was plain that his conscience no longer troubled him. + +'And say,' he said, 'come to think of it, I don't see where there's so +much call for me to feel mean. I'm not so far short of being a regular +king. Coney's just as big as some of those kingdoms you read about on +the other side; and, from what you see in the papers about the +goings-on there, it looks to me that, having a whole week on the throne +like I'm going to have, amounts to a pretty steady job as kings go.' + + + + +AT GEISENHEIMER'S + + +As I walked to Geisenheimer's that night I was feeling blue and +restless, tired of New York, tired of dancing, tired of everything. +Broadway was full of people hurrying to the theatres. Cars rattled by. +All the electric lights in the world were blazing down on the Great +White Way. And it all seemed stale and dreary to me. + +Geisenheimer's was full as usual. All the tables were occupied, and +there were several couples already on the dancing-floor in the centre. +The band was playing 'Michigan': + + _I want to go back, I want to go back + To the place where I was born. + Far away from harm + With a milk-pail on my arm._ + +I suppose the fellow who wrote that would have called for the police if +anyone had ever really tried to get him on to a farm, but he has +certainly put something into the tune which makes you think he meant +what he said. It's a homesick tune, that. + +I was just looking round for an empty table, when a man jumped up and +came towards me, registering joy as if I had been his long-lost sister. + +He was from the country. I could see that. It was written all over him, +from his face to his shoes. + +He came up with his hand out, beaming. + +'Why, Miss Roxborough!' + +'Why not?' I said. + +'Don't you remember me?' + +I didn't. + +'My name is Ferris.' + +'It's a nice name, but it means nothing in my young life.' + +'I was introduced to you last time I came here. We danced together.' + +This seemed to bear the stamp of truth. If he was introduced to me, he +probably danced with me. It's what I'm at Geisenheimer's for. + +'When was it?' + +'A year ago last April.' + +You can't beat these rural charmers. They think New York is folded up +and put away in camphor when they leave, and only taken out again when +they pay their next visit. The notion that anything could possibly have +happened since he was last in our midst to blur the memory of that +happy evening had not occurred to Mr Ferris. I suppose he was so +accustomed to dating things from 'when I was in New York' that he +thought everybody else must do the same. + +'Why, sure, I remember you,' I said. 'Algernon Clarence, isn't it?' + +'Not Algernon Clarence. My name's Charlie.' + +'My mistake. And what's the great scheme, Mr Ferris? Do you want to +dance with me again?' + +He did. So we started. Mine not to reason why, mine but to do and die, +as the poem says. If an elephant had come into Geisenheimer's and asked +me to dance I'd have had to do it. And I'm not saying that Mr Ferris +wasn't the next thing to it. He was one of those earnest, persevering +dancers--the kind that have taken twelve correspondence lessons. + +I guess I was about due that night to meet someone from the country. +There still come days in the spring when the country seems to get a +stranglehold on me and start in pulling. This particular day had been +one of them. I got up in the morning and looked out of the window, and +the breeze just wrapped me round and began whispering about pigs and +chickens. And when I went out on Fifth Avenue there seemed to be +flowers everywhere. I headed for the Park, and there was the grass all +green, and the trees coming out, and a sort of something in the +air--why, say, if there hadn't have been a big policeman keeping an eye +on me, I'd have flung myself down and bitten chunks out of the turf. + +And as soon as I got to Geisenheimer's they played that 'Michigan' +thing. + +Why, Charlie from Squeedunk's 'entrance' couldn't have been better +worked up if he'd been a star in a Broadway show. The stage was just +waiting for him. + +But somebody's always taking the joy out of life. I ought to have +remembered that the most metropolitan thing in the metropolis is a +rustic who's putting in a week there. We weren't thinking on the same +plane, Charlie and me. The way I had been feeling all day, what I +wanted to talk about was last season's crops. The subject he fancied +was this season's chorus-girls. Our souls didn't touch by a mile and a +half. + +'This is the life!' he said. + +There's always a point when that sort of man says that. + +'I suppose you come here quite a lot?' he said. + +'Pretty often.' + +I didn't tell him that I came there every night, and that I came +because I was paid for it. If you're a professional dancer at +Geisenheimer's, you aren't supposed to advertise the fact. The +management thinks that if you did it might send the public away +thinking too hard when they saw you win the Great Contest for the +Love-r-ly Silver Cup which they offer later in the evening. Say, that +Love-r-ly Cup's a joke. I win it on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, +and Mabel Francis wins it on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. It's +all perfectly fair and square, of course. It's purely a matter of merit +who wins the Love-r-ly Cup. Anybody could win it. Only somehow they +don't. And the coincidence of the fact that Mabel and I always do has +kind of got on the management's nerves, and they don't like us to tell +people we're employed there. They prefer us to blush unseen. + +'It's a great place,' said Mr Ferris, 'and New York's a great place. +I'd like to live in New York.' + +'The loss is ours. Why don't you?' + +'Some city! But dad's dead now, and I've got the drugstore, you know.' + +He spoke as if I ought to remember reading about it in the papers. + +'And I'm making good with it, what's more. I've got push and ideas. +Say, I got married since I saw you last.' + +'You did, did you?' I said. 'Then what are you doing, may I ask, +dancing on Broadway like a gay bachelor? I suppose you have left your +wife at Hicks' Corners, singing "Where is my wandering boy tonight"?' + +'Not Hicks' Corners. Ashley, Maine. That's where I live. My wife comes +from Rodney.... Pardon me, I'm afraid I stepped on your foot.' + +'My fault,' I said; 'I lost step. Well, I wonder you aren't ashamed +even to think of your wife, when you've left her all alone out there +while you come whooping it up in New York. Haven't you got any +conscience?' + +'But I haven't left her. She's here.' + +'In New York?' + +'In this restaurant. That's her up there.' + +I looked up at the balcony. There was a face hanging over the red plush +rail. It looked to me as if it had some hidden sorrow. I'd noticed it +before, when we were dancing around, and I had wondered what the +trouble was. Now I began to see. + +'Why aren't you dancing with her and giving her a good time, then?' I +said. + +'Oh, she's having a good time.' + +'She doesn't look it. She looks as if she would like to be down here, +treading the measure.' + +'She doesn't dance much.' + +'Don't you have dances at Ashley?' + +'It's different at home. She dances well enough for Ashley, but--well, +this isn't Ashley.' + +'I see. But you're not like that?' + +He gave a kind of smirk. + +'Oh, I've been in New York before.' + +I could have bitten him, the sawn-off little rube! It made me mad. He +was ashamed to dance in public with his wife--didn't think her good +enough for him. So he had dumped her in a chair, given her a lemonade, +and told her to be good, and then gone off to have a good time. They +could have had me arrested for what I was thinking just then. + +The band began to play something else. + +'This is the life!' said Mr Ferris. 'Let's do it again.' + +'Let somebody else do it,' I said. 'I'm tired. I'll introduce you to +some friends of mine.' + +So I took him off, and whisked him on to some girls I knew at one of +the tables. + +'Shake hands with my friend Mr Ferris,' I said. 'He wants to show you +the latest steps. He does most of them on your feet.' + +I could have betted on Charlie, the Debonair Pride of Ashley. Guess +what he said? He said, 'This is the life!' + +And I left him, and went up to the balcony. + +She was leaning with her elbows on the red plush, looking down on the +dancing-floor. They had just started another tune, and hubby was moving +around with one of the girls I'd introduced him to. She didn't have to +prove to me that she came from the country. I knew it. She was a little +bit of a thing, old-fashioned looking. She was dressed in grey, with +white muslin collar and cuffs, and her hair done simple. She had a +black hat. + +I kind of hovered for awhile. It isn't the best thing I do, being shy; +as a general thing I'm more or less there with the nerve; but somehow I +sort of hesitated to charge in. + +Then I braced up, and made for the vacant chair. + +'I'll sit here, if you don't mind,' I said. + +She turned in a startled way. I could see she was wondering who I was, +and what right I had there, but wasn't certain whether it might not be +city etiquette for strangers to come and dump themselves down and start +chatting. 'I've just been dancing with your husband,' I said, to ease +things along. + +'I saw you.' + +She fixed me with a pair of big brown eyes. I took one look at them, +and then I had to tell myself that it might be pleasant, and a relief +to my feelings, to take something solid and heavy and drop it over the +rail on to hubby, but the management wouldn't like it. That was how I +felt about him just then. The poor kid was doing everything with those +eyes except crying. She looked like a dog that's been kicked. + +She looked away, and fiddled with the string of the electric light. +There was a hatpin lying on the table. She picked it up, and began to +dig at the red plush. + +'Ah, come on sis,' I said; 'tell me all about it.' + +'I don't know what you mean.' + +'You can't fool me. Tell me your troubles.' + +'I don't know you.' + +'You don't have to know a person to tell her your troubles. I sometimes +tell mine to the cat that camps out on the wall opposite my room. What +did you want to leave the country for, with summer coming on?' + +She didn't answer, but I could see it coming, so I sat still and +waited. And presently she seemed to make up her mind that, even if it +was no business of mine, it would be a relief to talk about it. + +'We're on our honeymoon. Charlie wanted to come to New York. I didn't +want to, but he was set on it. He's been here before.' + +'So he told me.' + +'He's wild about New York.' + +'But you're not.' + +'I hate it.' + +'Why?' + +She dug away at the red plush with the hatpin, picking out little bits +and dropping them over the edge. I could see she was bracing herself to +put me wise to the whole trouble. There's a time comes when things +aren't going right, and you've had all you can stand, when you have got +to tell somebody about it, no matter who it is. + +'I hate New York,' she said getting it out at last with a rush. 'I'm +scared of it. It--it isn't fair Charlie bringing me here. I didn't want +to come. I knew what would happen. I felt it all along.' + +'What do you think will happen, then?' + +She must have picked away at least an inch of the red plush before she +answered. It's lucky Jimmy, the balcony waiter, didn't see her; it +would have broken his heart; he's as proud of that red plush as if he +had paid for it himself. + +'When I first went to live at Rodney,' she said, 'two years ago--we +moved there from Illinois--there was a man there named Tyson--Jack +Tyson. He lived all alone and didn't seem to want to know anyone. I +couldn't understand it till somebody told me all about him. I can +understand it now. Jack Tyson married a Rodney girl, and they came to +New York for their honeymoon, just like us. And when they got there I +guess she got to comparing him with the fellows she saw, and comparing +the city with Rodney, and when she got home she just couldn't settle +down.' + +'Well?' + +'After they had been back in Rodney for a little while she ran away. +Back to the city, I guess.' + +'I suppose he got a divorce?' + +'No, he didn't. He still thinks she may come back to him.' + +'He still thinks she will come back?' I said. 'After she has been away +three years!' + +'Yes. He keeps her things just the same as she left them when she went +away, everything just the same.' + +'But isn't he angry with her for what she did? If I was a man and a +girl treated me that way, I'd be apt to murder her if she tried to show +up again.' + +'He wouldn't. Nor would I, if--if anything like that happened to me; +I'd wait and wait, and go on hoping all the time. And I'd go down to +the station to meet the train every afternoon, just like Jack Tyson.' + +Something splashed on the tablecloth. It made me jump. + +'For goodness' sake,' I said, 'what's your trouble? Brace up. I know +it's a sad story, but it's not your funeral.' + +'It is. It is. The same thing's going to happen to me.' + +'Take a hold on yourself. Don't cry like that.' + +'I can't help it. Oh! I knew it would happen. It's happening right now. +Look--look at him.' + +I glanced over the rail, and I saw what she meant. There was her +Charlie, dancing about all over the floor as if he had just discovered +that he hadn't lived till then. I saw him say something to the girl he +was dancing with. I wasn't near enough to hear it, but I bet it was +'This is the life!' If I had been his wife, in the same position as +this kid, I guess I'd have felt as bad as she did, for if ever a man +exhibited all the symptoms of incurable Newyorkitis, it was this +Charlie Ferris. + +'I'm not like these New York girls,' she choked. 'I can't be smart. I +don't want to be. I just want to live at home and be happy. I knew it +would happen if we came to the city. He doesn't think me good enough +for him. He looks down on me.' + +'Pull yourself together.' + +'And I do love him so!' + +Goodness knows what I should have said if I could have thought of +anything to say. But just then the music stopped, and somebody on the +floor below began to speak. + +'Ladeez 'n' gemmen,' he said, 'there will now take place our great +Numbah Contest. This gen-u-ine sporting contest--' + +It was Izzy Baermann making his nightly speech, introducing the +Love-r-ly Cup; and it meant that, for me, duty called. From where I sat +I could see Izzy looking about the room, and I knew he was looking for +me. It's the management's nightmare that one of these evenings Mabel or +I won't show up, and somebody else will get away with the Love-r-ly +Cup. + +'Sorry I've got to go,' I said. 'I have to be in this.' + +And then suddenly I had the great idea. It came to me like a flash, I +looked at her, crying there, and I looked over the rail at Charlie the +Boy Wonder, and I knew that this was where I got a stranglehold on my +place in the Hall of Fame, along with the great thinkers of the age. + +'Come on,' I said. 'Come along. Stop crying and powder your nose and +get a move on. You're going to dance this.' + +'But Charlie doesn't want to dance with me.' + +'It may have escaped your notice,' I said, 'but your Charlie is not the +only man in New York, or even in this restaurant. I'm going to dance +with Charlie myself, and I'll introduce you to someone who can go +through the movements. Listen!' + +'The lady of each couple'--this was Izzy, getting it off his +diaphragm--'will receive a ticket containing a num-bah. The dance will +then proceed, and the num-bahs will be eliminated one by one, those +called out by the judge kindly returning to their seats as their +num-bah is called. The num-bah finally remaining is the winning +num-bah. The contest is a genuine sporting contest, decided purely by +the skill of the holders of the various num-bahs.' (Izzy stopped +blushing at the age of six.) 'Will ladies now kindly step forward and +receive their num-bahs. The winner, the holder of the num-bah left on +the floor when the other num-bahs have been eliminated' (I could see +Izzy getting more and more uneasy, wondering where on earth I'd got +to), 'will receive this Love-r-ly Silver Cup, presented by the +management. Ladies will now kindly step forward and receive their +num-bahs.' + +I turned to Mrs Charlie. 'There,' I said, 'don't you want to win a +Love-r-ly Silver Cup?' + +'But I couldn't.' + +'You never know your luck.' + +'But it isn't luck. Didn't you hear him say it's a contest decided +purely by skill?' + +'Well, try your skill, then.' I felt as if I could have shaken her. +'For goodness' sake,' I said, 'show a little grit. Aren't you going to +stir a finger to keep your Charlie? Suppose you win, think what it will +mean. He will look up to you for the rest of your life. When he starts +talking about New York, all you will have to say is, "New York? Ah, +yes, that was the town I won that Love-r-ly Silver Cup in, was it not?" +and he'll drop as if you had hit him behind the ear with a sandbag. +Pull yourself together and try.' + +I saw those brown eyes of hers flash, and she said, 'I'll try.' + +'Good for you,' I said. 'Now you get those tears dried, and fix +yourself up, and I'll go down and get the tickets.' + +Izzy was mighty relieved when I bore down on him. + +'Gee!' he said, 'I thought you had run away, or was sick or something. +Here's your ticket.' + +'I want two, Izzy. One's for a friend of mine. And I say, Izzy, I'd +take it as a personal favour if you would let her stop on the floor as +one of the last two couples. There's a reason. She's a kid from the +country, and she wants to make a hit.' + +'Sure, that'll be all right. Here are the tickets. Yours is thirty-six, +hers is ten.' He lowered his voice. 'Don't go mixing them.' + +I went back to the balcony. On the way I got hold of Charlie. + +'We're dancing this together,' I said. + +He grinned all across his face. + +I found Mrs Charlie looking as if she had never shed a tear in her +life. She certainly had pluck, that kid. + +'Come on,' I said. 'Stick to your ticket like wax and watch your step.' + +I guess you've seen these sporting contests at Geisenheimer's. Or, if +you haven't seen them at Geisenheimer's, you've seen them somewhere +else. They're all the same. + +When we began, the floor was so crowded that there was hardly +elbow-room. Don't tell me there aren't any optimists nowadays. Everyone +was looking as if they were wondering whether to have the Love-r-ly Cup +in the sitting-room or the bedroom. You never saw such a hopeful gang +in your life. + +Presently Izzy gave tongue. The management expects him to be humorous +on these occasions, so he did his best. + +'Num-bahs, seven, eleven, and twenty-one will kindly rejoin their +sorrowing friends.' + +This gave us a little more elbow-room, and the band started again. + +A few minutes later, Izzy once more: 'Num-bahs thirteen, sixteen, and +seventeen--good-bye.' + +Off we went again. + +'Num-bah twelve, we hate to part with you, but--back to your table!' + +A plump girl in a red hat, who had been dancing with a kind smile, as +if she were doing it to amuse the children, left the floor. + +'Num-bahs six, fifteen, and twenty, thumbs down!' + +And pretty soon the only couples left were Charlie and me, Mrs Charlie +and the fellow I'd introduced her to, and a bald-headed man and a girl +in a white hat. He was one of your stick-at-it performers. He had been +dancing all the evening. I had noticed him from the balcony. He looked +like a hard-boiled egg from up there. + +He was a trier all right, that fellow, and had things been otherwise, +so to speak, I'd have been glad to see him win. But it was not to be. +Ah, no! + +'Num-bah nineteen, you're getting all flushed. Take a rest.' + +So there it was, a straight contest between me and Charlie and Mrs +Charlie and her man. Every nerve in my system was tingling with +suspense and excitement, was it not? It was not. + +Charlie, as I've already hinted, was not a dancer who took much of his +attention off his feet while in action. He was there to do his +durnedest, not to inspect objects of interest by the wayside. The +correspondence college he'd attended doesn't guarantee to teach you to +do two things at once. It won't bind itself to teach you to look round +the room while you're dancing. So Charlie hadn't the least suspicion of +the state of the drama. He was breathing heavily down my neck in a +determined sort of way, with his eyes glued to the floor. All he knew +was that the competition had thinned out a bit, and the honour of +Ashley, Maine, was in his hands. + +You know how the public begins to sit up and take notice when these +dance-contests have been narrowed down to two couples. There are +evenings when I quite forget myself, when I'm one of the last two left +in, and get all excited. There's a sort of hum in the air, and, as you +go round the room, people at the tables start applauding. Why, if you +didn't know about the inner workings of the thing, you'd be all of a +twitter. + +It didn't take my practised ear long to discover that it wasn't me and +Charlie that the great public was cheering for. We would go round the +floor without getting a hand, and every time Mrs Charlie and her guy +got to a corner there was a noise like election night. She sure had +made a hit. + +I took a look at her across the floor, and I didn't wonder. She was a +different kid from what she'd been upstairs. I never saw anybody look +so happy and pleased with herself. Her eyes were like lamps, and her +cheeks all pink, and she was going at it like a champion. I knew what +had made a hit with the people. It was the look of her. She made you +think of fresh milk and new-laid eggs and birds singing. To see her was +like getting away to the country in August. It's funny about people who +live in the city. They chuck out their chests, and talk about little +old New York being good enough for them, and there's a street in heaven +they call Broadway, and all the rest of it; but it seems to me that +what they really live for is that three weeks in the summer when they +get away into the country. I knew exactly why they were cheering so +hard for Mrs Charlie. She made them think of their holidays which were +coming along, when they would go and board at the farm and drink out of +the old oaken bucket, and call the cows by their first names. + +Gee! I felt just like that myself. All day the country had been tugging +at me, and now it tugged worse than ever. + +I could have smelled the new-mown hay if it wasn't that when you're in +Geisenheimer's you have to smell Geisenheimer's, because it leaves no +chance for competition. + +'Keep working,' I said to Charlie. 'It looks to me as if we are going +back in the betting.' + +'Uh, huh!' he says, too busy to blink. + +'Do some of those fancy steps of yours. We need them in our business.' + +And the way that boy worked--it was astonishing! + +Out of the corner of my eye I could see Izzy Baermann, and he wasn't +looking happy. He was nerving himself for one of those quick referee's +decisions--the sort you make and then duck under the ropes, and run +five miles, to avoid the incensed populace. It was this kind of thing +happening every now and then that prevented his job being perfect. +Mabel Francis told me that one night when Izzy declared her the winner +of the great sporting contest, it was such raw work that she thought +there'd have been a riot. It looked pretty much as if he was afraid the +same thing was going to happen now. There wasn't a doubt which of us +two couples was the one that the customers wanted to see win that +Love-r-ly Silver Cup. It was a walk-over for Mrs Charlie, and Charlie +and I were simply among those present. + +But Izzy had his duty to do, and drew a salary for doing it, so he +moistened his lips, looked round to see that his strategic railways +weren't blocked, swallowed twice, and said in a husky voice: + +'Num-bah ten, please re-tiah!' + +I stopped at once. + +'Come along,' said I to Charlie. 'That's our exit cue.' + +And we walked off the floor amidst applause. + +'Well,' says Charlie, taking out his handkerchief and attending to his +brow, which was like the village blacksmith's, 'we didn't do so bad, +did we? We didn't do so bad, I guess! We--' + +And he looked up at the balcony, expecting to see the dear little wife, +draped over the rail, worshipping him; when, just as his eye is moving +up, it gets caught by the sight of her a whole heap lower down than he +had expected--on the floor, in fact. + +She wasn't doing much in the worshipping line just at that moment. She +was too busy. + +It was a regular triumphal progress for the kid. She and her partner +were doing one or two rounds now for exhibition purposes, like the +winning couple always do at Geisenheimer's, and the room was fairly +rising at them. You'd have thought from the way they were clapping that +they had been betting all their spare cash on her. + +Charlie gets her well focused, then he lets his jaw drop, till he +pretty near bumped it against the floor. + +'But--but--but--' he begins. + +'I know,' I said. 'It begins to look as if she could dance well enough +for the city after all. It begins to look as if she had sort of put one +over on somebody, don't it? It begins to look as if it were a pity you +didn't think of dancing with her yourself.' + +'I--I--I--' + +'You come along and have a nice cold drink,' I said, 'and you'll soon +pick up.' + +He tottered after me to a table, looking as if he had been hit by a +street-car. He had got his. + +I was so busy looking after Charlie, flapping the towel and working on +him with the oxygen, that, if you'll believe me, it wasn't for quite a +time that I thought of glancing around to see how the thing had struck +Izzy Baermann. + +If you can imagine a fond father whose only son has hit him with a +brick, jumped on his stomach, and then gone off with all his money, you +have a pretty good notion of how poor old Izzy looked. He was staring +at me across the room, and talking to himself and jerking his hands +about. Whether he thought he was talking to me, or whether he was +rehearsing the scene where he broke it to the boss that a mere stranger +had got away with his Love-r-ly Silver Cup, I don't know. Whichever it +was, he was being mighty eloquent. + +I gave him a nod, as much as to say that it would all come right in the +future, and then I turned to Charlie again. He was beginning to pick +up. + +'She won the cup!' he said in a dazed voice, looking at me as if I +could do something about it. + +'You bet she did!' + +'But--well, what do you know about that?' + +I saw that the moment had come to put it straight to him. 'I'll tell +you what I know about it,' I said. 'If you take my advice, you'll hustle +that kid straight back to Ashley--or wherever it is that you said you +poison the natives by making up the wrong prescriptions--before she +gets New York into her system. When I was talking to her upstairs, she +was telling me about a fellow in her village who got it in the neck +just the same as you're apt to do.' + +He started. 'She was telling you about Jack Tyson?' + +'That was his name--Jack Tyson. He lost his wife through letting her +have too much New York. Don't you think it's funny she should have +mentioned him if she hadn't had some idea that she might act just the +same as his wife did?' + +He turned quite green. + +'You don't think she would do that?' + +'Well, if you'd heard her--She couldn't talk of anything except this +Tyson, and what his wife did to him. She talked of it sort of sad, kind +of regretful, as if she was sorry, but felt that it had to be. I could +see she had been thinking about it a whole lot.' + +Charlie stiffened in his seat, and then began to melt with pure fright. +He took up his empty glass with a shaking hand and drank a long drink +out of it. It didn't take much observation to see that he had had the +jolt he wanted, and was going to be a whole heap less jaunty and +metropolitan from now on. In fact, the way he looked, I should say he +had finished with metropolitan jauntiness for the rest of his life. + +'I'll take her home tomorrow,' he said. 'But--will she come?' + +'That's up to you. If you can persuade her--Here she is now. I should +start at once.' + +Mrs Charlie, carrying the cup, came to the table. I was wondering what +would be the first thing she would say. If it had been Charlie, of +course he'd have said, 'This is the life!' but I looked for something +snappier from her. If I had been in her place there were at least ten +things I could have thought of to say, each nastier than the other. + +She sat down and put the cup on the table. Then she gave the cup a long +look. Then she drew a deep breath. Then she looked at Charlie. + +'Oh, Charlie, dear,' she said, 'I do wish I'd been dancing with you!' + +Well, I'm not sure that that wasn't just as good as anything I would +have said. Charlie got right off the mark. After what I had told him, +he wasn't wasting any time. + +'Darling,' he said, humbly, 'you're a wonder! What will they say about +this at home?' He did pause here for a moment, for it took nerve to say +it; but then he went right on. 'Mary, how would it be if we went home +right away--first train tomorrow, and showed it to them?' + +'Oh, Charlie!' she said. + +His face lit up as if somebody had pulled a switch. + +'You will? You don't want to stop on? You aren't wild about New York?' + +'If there was a train,' she said, 'I'd start tonight. But I thought you +loved the city so, Charlie?' + +He gave a kind of shiver. 'I never want to see it again in my life!' he +said. + +'You'll excuse me,' I said, getting up, 'I think there's a friend of +mine wants to speak to me.' + +And I crossed over to where Izzy had been standing for the last five +minutes, making signals to me with his eyebrows. + +You couldn't have called Izzy coherent at first. He certainly had +trouble with his vocal chords, poor fellow. There was one of those +African explorer men used to come to Geisenheimer's a lot when he was +home from roaming the trackless desert, and he used to tell me about +tribes he had met who didn't use real words at all, but talked to one +another in clicks and gurgles. He imitated some of their chatter one +night to amuse me, and, believe me, Izzy Baermann started talking the +same language now. Only he didn't do it to amuse me. + +He was like one of those gramophone records when it's getting into its +stride. + +'Be calm, Isadore,' I said. 'Something is troubling you. Tell me all +about it.' + +He clicked some more, and then he got it out. + +'Say, are you crazy? What did you do it for? Didn't I tell you as plain +as I could; didn't I say it twenty times, when you came for the +tickets, that yours was thirty-six?' + +'Didn't you say my friend's was thirty-six?' + +'Are you deaf? I said hers was ten.' + +'Then,' I said handsomely, 'say no more. The mistake was mine. It +begins to look as if I must have got them mixed.' + +He did a few Swedish exercises. + +'Say no more? That's good! That's great! You've got nerve. I'll say +that.' + +'It was a lucky mistake, Izzy. It saved your life. The people would +have lynched you if you had given me the cup. They were solid for her.' + +'What's the boss going to say when I tell him?' + +'Never mind what the boss will say. Haven't you any romance in your +system, Izzy? Look at those two sitting there with their heads +together. Isn't it worth a silver cup to have made them happy for life? +They are on their honeymoon, Isadore. Tell the boss exactly how it +happened, and say that I thought it was up to Geisenheimer's to give +them a wedding-present.' + +He clicked for a spell. + +'Ah!' he said. 'Ah! now you've done it! Now you've given yourself away! +You did it on purpose. You mixed those tickets on purpose. I thought as +much. Say, who do you think you are, doing this sort of thing? Don't +you know that professional dancers are three for ten cents? I could go +out right now and whistle, and get a dozen girls for your job. The +boss'll sack you just one minute after I tell him.' + +'No, he won't, Izzy, because I'm going to resign.' + +'You'd better!' + +'That's what I think. I'm sick of this place, Izzy. I'm sick of +dancing. I'm sick of New York. I'm sick of everything. I'm going back +to the country. I thought I had got the pigs and chickens clear out of +my system, but I hadn't. I've suspected it for a long, long time, and +tonight I know it. Tell the boss, with my love, that I'm sorry, but it +had to be done. And if he wants to talk back, he must do it by letter: +Mrs John Tyson, Rodney, Maine, is the address.' + + + + +THE MAKING OF MAC'S + + +Mac's Restaurant--nobody calls it MacFarland's--is a mystery. It is off +the beaten track. It is not smart. It does not advertise. It provides +nothing nearer to an orchestra than a solitary piano, yet, with all +these things against it, it is a success. In theatrical circles +especially it holds a position which might turn the white lights of +many a supper-palace green with envy. + +This is mysterious. You do not expect Soho to compete with and even +eclipse Piccadilly in this way. And when Soho does so compete, there is +generally romance of some kind somewhere in the background. + +Somebody happened to mention to me casually that Henry, the old waiter, +had been at Mac's since its foundation. + +'Me?' said Henry, questioned during a slack spell in the afternoon. +'Rather!' + +'Then can you tell me what it was that first gave the place the impetus +which started it on its upward course? What causes should you say were +responsible for its phenomenal prosperity? What--' + +'What gave it a leg-up? Is that what you're trying to get at?' + +'Exactly. What gave it a leg-up? Can you tell me?' + +'Me?' said Henry. 'Rather!' + +And he told me this chapter from the unwritten history of the London +whose day begins when Nature's finishes. + + * * * * * + +Old Mr MacFarland (_said Henry_) started the place fifteen years +ago. He was a widower with one son and what you might call half a +daughter. That's to say, he had adopted her. Katie was her name, and +she was the child of a dead friend of his. The son's name was Andy. A +little freckled nipper he was when I first knew him--one of those +silent kids that don't say much and have as much obstinacy in them as +if they were mules. Many's the time, in them days, I've clumped him on +the head and told him to do something; and he didn't run yelling to his +pa, same as most kids would have done, but just said nothing and went +on not doing whatever it was I had told him to do. That was the sort of +disposition Andy had, and it grew on him. Why, when he came back from +Oxford College the time the old man sent for him--what I'm going to +tell you about soon--he had a jaw on him like the ram of a battleship. +Katie was the kid for my money. I liked Katie. We all liked Katie. + +Old MacFarland started out with two big advantages. One was Jules, and +the other was me. Jules came from Paris, and he was the greatest cook +you ever seen. And me--well, I was just come from ten years as waiter +at the Guelph, and I won't conceal it from you that I gave the place a +tone. I gave Soho something to think about over its chop, believe me. +It was a come-down in the world for me, maybe, after the Guelph, but +what I said to myself was that, when you get a tip in Soho, it may be +only tuppence, but you keep it; whereas at the Guelph about ninety-nine +hundredths of it goes to helping to maintain some blooming head waiter +in the style to which he has been accustomed. It was through my kind of +harping on that fact that me and the Guelph parted company. The head +waiter complained to the management the day I called him a fat-headed +vampire. + +Well, what with me and what with Jules, MacFarland's--it wasn't Mac's +in them days--began to get a move on. Old MacFarland, who knew a good +man when he saw one and always treated me more like a brother than +anything else, used to say to me, 'Henry, if this keeps up, I'll be +able to send the boy to Oxford College'; until one day he changed it +to, 'Henry, I'm going to send the boy to Oxford College'; and next +year, sure enough, off he went. + +Katie was sixteen then, and she had just been given the cashier job, as +a treat. She wanted to do something to help the old man, so he put her +on a high chair behind a wire cage with a hole in it, and she gave the +customers their change. And let me tell you, mister, that a man that +wasn't satisfied after he'd had me serve him a dinner cooked by Jules +and then had a chat with Katie through the wire cage would have groused +at Paradise. For she was pretty, was Katie, and getting prettier every +day. I spoke to the boss about it. I said it was putting temptation in +the girl's way to set her up there right in the public eye, as it were. +And he told me to hop it. So I hopped it. + +Katie was wild about dancing. Nobody knew it till later, but all this +while, it turned out, she was attending regular one of them schools. +That was where she went to in the afternoons, when we all thought she +was visiting girl friends. It all come out after, but she fooled us +then. Girls are like monkeys when it comes to artfulness. She called me +Uncle Bill, because she said the name Henry always reminded her of cold +mutton. If it had been young Andy that had said it I'd have clumped him +one; but he never said anything like that. Come to think of it, he +never said anything much at all. He just thought a heap without opening +his face. + +So young Andy went off to college, and I said to him, 'Now then, you +young devil, you be a credit to us, or I'll fetch you a clip when you +come home.' And Katie said, 'Oh, Andy, I _shall_ miss you.' And +Andy didn't say nothing to me, and he didn't say nothing to Katie, but +he gave her a look, and later in the day I found her crying, and she +said she'd got toothache, and I went round the corner to the chemist's +and brought her something for it. + +It was in the middle of Andy's second year at college that the old man +had the stroke which put him out of business. He went down under it as +if he'd been hit with an axe, and the doctor tells him he'll never be +able to leave his bed again. + +So they sent for Andy, and he quit his college, and come back to London +to look after the restaurant. + +I was sorry for the kid. I told him so in a fatherly kind of way. And +he just looked at me and says, 'Thanks very much, Henry.' + +'What must be must be,' I says. 'Maybe, it's all for the best. Maybe +it's better you're here than in among all those young devils in your +Oxford school what might be leading you astray.' + +'If you would think less of me and more of your work, Henry,' he says, +'perhaps that gentleman over there wouldn't have to shout sixteen times +for the waiter.' + +Which, on looking into it, I found to be the case, and he went away +without giving me no tip, which shows what you lose in a hard world by +being sympathetic. + +I'm bound to say that young Andy showed us all jolly quick that he +hadn't come home just to be an ornament about the place. There was +exactly one boss in the restaurant, and it was him. It come a little +hard at first to have to be respectful to a kid whose head you had +spent many a happy hour clumping for his own good in the past; but he +pretty soon showed me I could do it if I tried, and I done it. As for +Jules and the two young fellers that had been taken on to help me owing +to increase of business, they would jump through hoops and roll over if +he just looked at them. He was a boy who liked his own way, was Andy, +and, believe me, at MacFarland's Restaurant he got it. + +And then, when things had settled down into a steady jog, Katie took +the bit in her teeth. + +She done it quite quiet and unexpected one afternoon when there was +only me and her and Andy in the place. And I don't think either of them +knew I was there, for I was taking an easy on a chair at the back, +reading an evening paper. + +She said, kind of quiet, 'Oh, Andy.' + +'Yes, darling,' he said. + +And that was the first I knew that there was anything between them. + +'Andy, I've something to tell you.' + +'What is it?' + +She kind of hesitated. + +'Andy, dear, I shan't be able to help any more in the restaurant.' + +He looked at her, sort of surprised. + +'What do you mean?' + +'I'm--I'm going on the stage.' + +I put down my paper. What do you mean? Did I listen? Of course I +listened. What do you take me for? + +From where I sat I could see young Andy's face, and I didn't need any +more to tell me there was going to be trouble. That jaw of his was +right out. I forgot to tell you that the old man had died, poor old +feller, maybe six months before, so that now Andy was the real boss +instead of just acting boss; and what's more, in the nature of things, +he was, in a manner of speaking, Katie's guardian, with power to tell +her what she could do and what she couldn't. And I felt that Katie +wasn't going to have any smooth passage with this stage business which +she was giving him. Andy didn't hold with the stage--not with any girl +he was fond of being on it anyway. And when Andy didn't like a thing he +said so. + +He said so now. + +'You aren't going to do anything of the sort.' + +'Don't be horrid about it, Andy dear. I've got a big chance. Why should +you be horrid about it?' + +'I'm not going to argue about it. You don't go.' + +'But it's such a big chance. And I've been working for it for years.' + +'How do you mean working for it?' + +And then it came out about this dancing-school she'd been attending +regular. + +When she'd finished telling him about it, he just shoved out his jaw +another inch. + +'You aren't going on the stage.' + +'But it's such a chance. I saw Mr Mandelbaum yesterday, and he saw me +dance, and he was very pleased, and said he would give me a solo dance +to do in this new piece he's putting on.' + +'You aren't going on the stage.' + +What I always say is, you can't beat tact. If you're smooth and tactful +you can get folks to do anything you want; but if you just shove your +jaw out at them, and order them about, why, then they get their backs +up and sauce you. I knew Katie well enough to know that she would do +anything for Andy, if he asked her properly; but she wasn't going to +stand this sort of thing. But you couldn't drive that into the head of +a feller like young Andy with a steam-hammer. + +She flared up, quick, as if she couldn't hold herself in no longer. + +'I certainly am,' she said. + +'You know what it means?' + +'What does it mean?' + +'The end of--everything.' + +She kind of blinked as if he'd hit her, then she chucks her chin up. + +'Very well,' she says. 'Good-bye.' + +'Good-bye,' says Andy, the pig-headed young mule; and she walks out one +way and he walks out another. + + * * * * * + +I don't follow the drama much as a general rule, but seeing that it was +now, so to speak, in the family, I did keep an eye open for the +newspaper notices of 'The Rose Girl', which was the name of the piece +which Mr Mandelbaum was letting Katie do a solo dance in; and while +some of them cussed the play considerable, they all gave Katie a nice +word. One feller said that she was like cold water on the morning +after, which is high praise coming from a newspaper man. + +There wasn't a doubt about it. She was a success. You see, she was +something new, and London always sits up and takes notice when you give +it that. + +There were pictures of her in the papers, and one evening paper had a +piece about 'How I Preserve My Youth' signed by her. I cut it out and +showed it to Andy. + +He gave it a look. Then he gave me a look, and I didn't like his eye. + +'Well?' he says. + +'Pardon,' I says. + +'What about it?' he says. + +'I don't know,' I says. + +'Get back to your work,' he says. + +So I got back. + +It was that same night that the queer thing happened. + +We didn't do much in the supper line at MacFarland's as a rule in them +days, but we kept open, of course, in case Soho should take it into its +head to treat itself to a welsh rabbit before going to bed; so all +hands was on deck, ready for the call if it should come, at half past +eleven that night; but we weren't what you might term sanguine. + +Well, just on the half-hour, up drives a taxicab, and in comes a party +of four. There was a nut, another nut, a girl, and another girl. And +the second girl was Katie. + +'Hallo, Uncle Bill!' she says. + +'Good evening, madam,' I says dignified, being on duty. + +'Oh, stop it, Uncle Bill,' she says. 'Say "Hallo!" to a pal, and smile +prettily, or I'll tell them about the time you went to the White City.' + +Well, there's some bygones that are best left bygones, and the night at +the White City what she was alluding to was one of them. I still +maintain, as I always shall maintain, that the constable had no right +to--but, there, it's a story that wouldn't interest you. And, anyway, +I was glad to see Katie again, so I give her a smile. + +'Not so much of it,' I says. 'Not so much of it. I'm glad to see you, +Katie.' + +'Three cheers! Jimmy, I want to introduce you to my friend, Uncle Bill. +Ted, this is Uncle Bill. Violet, this is Uncle Bill.' + +It wasn't my place to fetch her one on the side of the head, but I'd of +liked to have; for she was acting like she'd never used to act when I +knew her--all tough and bold. Then it come to me that she was nervous. +And natural, too, seeing young Andy might pop out any moment. + +And sure enough out he popped from the back room at that very instant. +Katie looked at him, and he looked at Katie, and I seen his face get +kind of hard; but he didn't say a word. And presently he went out +again. + +I heard Katie breathe sort of deep. + +'He's looking well, Uncle Bill, ain't he?' she says to me, very soft. + +'Pretty fair,' I says. 'Well, kid, I been reading the pieces in the +papers. You've knocked 'em.' + +'Ah, don't Bill,' she says, as if I'd hurt her. And me meaning only to +say the civil thing. Girls are rum. + +When the party had paid their bill and give me a tip which made me +think I was back at the Guelph again--only there weren't any Dick +Turpin of a head waiter standing by for his share--they hopped it. But +Katie hung back and had a word with me. + +'He _was_ looking well, wasn't he, Uncle Bill?' + +'Rather!' + +'Does--does he ever speak of me?' + +'I ain't heard him.' + +'I suppose he's still pretty angry with me, isn't he, Uncle Bill? +You're sure you've never heard him speak of me?' + +So, to cheer her up, I tells her about the piece in the paper I showed +him; but it didn't seem to cheer her up any. And she goes out. + +The very next night in she come again for supper, but with different +nuts and different girls. There was six of them this time, counting +her. And they'd hardly sat down at their table, when in come the +fellers she had called Jimmy and Ted with two girls. And they sat +eating of their suppers and chaffing one another across the floor, all +as pleasant and sociable as you please. + +'I say, Katie,' I heard one of the nuts say, 'you were right. He's +worth the price of admission.' + +I don't know who they meant, but they all laughed. And every now and +again I'd hear them praising the food, which I don't wonder at, for +Jules had certainly done himself proud. All artistic temperament, these +Frenchmen are. The moment I told him we had company, so to speak, he +blossomed like a flower does when you put it in water. + +'Ah, see, at last!' he says, trying to grab me and kiss me. 'Our fame +has gone abroad in the world which amuses himself, ain't it? For a good +supper connexion I have always prayed, and he has arrived.' + +Well, it did begin to look as if he was right. Ten high-class +supper-folk in an evening was pretty hot stuff for MacFarland's. I'm +bound to say I got excited myself. I can't deny that I missed the +Guelph at times. + +On the fifth night, when the place was fairly packed and looked for all +the world like Oddy's or Romano's, and me and the two young fellers +helping me was working double tides, I suddenly understood, and I went +up to Katie and, bending over her very respectful with a bottle, I +whispers, 'Hot stuff, kid. This is a jolly fine boom you're working for +the old place.' And by the way she smiled back at me, I seen I had +guessed right. + +Andy was hanging round, keeping an eye on things, as he always done, +and I says to him, when I was passing, 'She's doing us proud, bucking +up the old place, ain't she?' And he says, 'Get on with your work.' And +I got on. + +Katie hung back at the door, when she was on her way out, and had a +word with me. + +'Has he said anything about me, Uncle Bill?' + +'Not a word,' I says. + +And she goes out. + +You've probably noticed about London, mister, that a flock of sheep +isn't in it with the nuts, the way they all troop on each other's heels +to supper-places. One month they're all going to one place, next month +to another. Someone in the push starts the cry that he's found a new +place, and off they all go to try it. The trouble with most of the +places is that once they've got the custom they think it's going to +keep on coming and all they've got to do is to lean back and watch it +come. Popularity comes in at the door, and good food and good service +flies out at the window. We wasn't going to have any of that at +MacFarland's. Even if it hadn't been that Andy would have come down +like half a ton of bricks on the first sign of slackness, Jules and me +both of us had our professional reputations to keep up. I didn't give +myself no airs when I seen things coming our way. I worked all the +harder, and I seen to it that the four young fellers under me--there +was four now--didn't lose no time fetching of the orders. + +The consequence was that the difference between us and most popular +restaurants was that we kept our popularity. We fed them well, and we +served them well; and once the thing had started rolling it didn't +stop. Soho isn't so very far away from the centre of things, when you +come to look at it, and they didn't mind the extra step, seeing that +there was something good at the end of it. So we got our popularity, +and we kept our popularity; and we've got it to this day. That's how +MacFarland's came to be what it is, mister. + + * * * * * + +With the air of one who has told a well-rounded tale, Henry ceased, and +observed that it was wonderful the way Mr Woodward, of Chelsea, +preserved his skill in spite of his advanced years. + +I stared at him. + +'But, heavens, man!' I cried, 'you surely don't think you've finished? +What about Katie and Andy? What happened to them? Did they ever come +together again?' + +'Oh, ah,' said Henry, 'I was forgetting!' + +And he resumed. + + * * * * * + +As time went on, I begin to get pretty fed up with young Andy. He was +making a fortune as fast as any feller could out of the sudden boom in +the supper-custom, and he knowing perfectly well that if it hadn't of +been for Katie there wouldn't of been any supper-custom at all; and +you'd of thought that anyone claiming to be a human being would have +had the gratitood to forgive and forget and go over and say a civil +word to Katie when she come in. But no, he just hung round looking +black at all of them; and one night he goes and fairly does it. + +The place was full that night, and Katie was there, and the piano +going, and everybody enjoying themselves, when the young feller at the +piano struck up the tune what Katie danced to in the show. Catchy tune +it was. 'Lum-tum-tum, tiddle-iddle-um.' Something like that it went. +Well, the young feller struck up with it, and everybody begin clapping +and hammering on the tables and hollering to Katie to get up and dance; +which she done, in an open space in the middle, and she hadn't hardly +started when along come young Andy. + +He goes up to her, all jaw, and I seen something that wanted dusting on +the table next to 'em, so I went up and began dusting it, so by good +luck I happened to hear the whole thing. + +He says to her, very quiet, 'You can't do that here. What do you think +this place is?' + +And she says to him, 'Oh, Andy!' + +'I'm very much obliged to you,' he says, 'for all the trouble you +seem to be taking, but it isn't necessary. MacFarland's got on very +well before your well-meant efforts to turn it into a bear-garden.' + +And him coining the money from the supper-custom! Sometimes I +think gratitood's a thing of the past and this world not fit for +a self-respecting rattlesnake to live in. + +'Andy!' she says. + +'That's all. We needn't argue about it. If you want to come here and +have supper, I can't stop you. But I'm not going to have the place +turned into a night-club.' + +I don't know when I've heard anything like it. If it hadn't of been +that I hadn't of got the nerve, I'd have give him a look. + +Katie didn't say another word, but just went back to her table. + +But the episode, as they say, wasn't conclooded. As soon as the party +she was with seen that she was through dancing, they begin to kick up a +row; and one young nut with about an inch and a quarter of forehead and +the same amount of chin kicked it up especial. + +'No, I say! I say, you know!' he hollered. 'That's too bad, you know. +Encore! Don't stop. Encore!' + +Andy goes up to him. + +'I must ask you, please, not to make so much noise,' he says, quite +respectful. 'You are disturbing people.' + +'Disturbing be damned! Why shouldn't she--' + +'One moment. You can make all the noise you please out in the street, +but as long as you stay in here you'll be quiet. Do you understand?' + +Up jumps the nut. He'd had quite enough to drink. I know, because I'd +been serving him. + +'Who the devil are you?' he says. + +'Sit down,' says Andy. + +And the young feller took a smack at him. And the next moment Andy had +him by the collar and was chucking him out in a way that would have +done credit to a real professional down Whitechapel way. He dumped him +on the pavement as neat as you please. + +That broke up the party. + +You can never tell with restaurants. What kills one makes another. I've +no doubt that if we had chucked out a good customer from the Guelph +that would have been the end of the place. But it only seemed to do +MacFarland's good. I guess it gave just that touch to the place which +made the nuts think that this was real Bohemia. Come to think of it, it +does give a kind of charm to a place, if you feel that at any moment +the feller at the next table to you may be gathered up by the slack of +his trousers and slung into the street. + +Anyhow, that's the way our supper-custom seemed to look at it; and +after that you had to book a table in advance if you wanted to eat with +us. They fairly flocked to the place. + +But Katie didn't. She didn't flock. She stayed away. And no wonder, +after Andy behaving so bad. I'd of spoke to him about it, only he +wasn't the kind of feller you do speak to about things. + +One day I says to him to cheer him up, 'What price this restaurant now, +Mr Andy?' + +'Curse the restaurant,' he says. + +And him with all that supper-custom! It's a rum world! + +Mister, have you ever had a real shock--something that came out of +nowhere and just knocked you flat? I have, and I'm going to tell you +about it. + +When a man gets to be my age, and has a job of work which keeps him +busy till it's time for him to go to bed, he gets into the habit of not +doing much worrying about anything that ain't shoved right under his +nose. That's why, about now, Katie had kind of slipped my mind. It +wasn't that I wasn't fond of the kid, but I'd got so much to think +about, what with having four young fellers under me and things being in +such a rush at the restaurant that, if I thought of her at all, I just +took it for granted that she was getting along all right, and didn't +bother. To be sure we hadn't seen nothing of her at MacFarland's since +the night when Andy bounced her pal with the small size in foreheads, +but that didn't worry me. If I'd been her, I'd have stopped away the +same as she done, seeing that young Andy still had his hump. I took it +for granted, as I'm telling you, that she was all right, and that the +reason we didn't see nothing of her was that she was taking her +patronage elsewhere. + +And then, one evening, which happened to be my evening off, I got a +letter, and for ten minutes after I read it I was knocked flat. + +You get to believe in fate when you get to be my age, and fate certainly +had taken a hand in this game. If it hadn't of been my evening off, +don't you see, I wouldn't have got home till one o'clock or past that +in the morning, being on duty. Whereas, seeing it was my evening off, +I was back at half past eight. + +I was living at the same boarding-house in Bloomsbury what I'd lived at +for the past ten years, and when I got there I find her letter shoved +half under my door. + +I can tell you every word of it. This is how it went: + + _Darling Uncle Bill,_ + + _Don't be too sorry when you read this. It is nobody's fault, + but I am just tired of everything, and I want to end it all. You + have been such a dear to me always that I want you to be good to + me now. I should not like Andy to know the truth, so I want you + to make it seem as if it had happened naturally. You will do this + for me, won't you? It will be quite easy. By the time you get this, + it will be one, and it will all be over, and you can just come up + and open the window and let the gas out and then everyone will + think I just died naturally. It will be quite easy. I am leaving + the door unlocked so that you can get in. I am in the room just + above yours. I took it yesterday, so as to be near you. Good-bye, + Uncle Bill. You will do it for me, won't you? I don't want Andy to + know what it really was._ + + KATIE + +That was it, mister, and I tell you it floored me. And then it come to +me, kind of as a new idea, that I'd best do something pretty soon, and +up the stairs I went quick. + +There she was, on the bed, with her eyes closed, and the gas just +beginning to get bad. + +As I come in, she jumped up, and stood staring at me. I went to the +tap, and turned the flow off, and then I gives her a look. + +'Now then,' I says. + +'How did you get here?' + +'Never mind how I got here. What have you got to say for yourself?' + +She just began to cry, same as she used to when she was a kid and +someone had hurt her. + +'Here,' I says, 'let's get along out of here, and go where there's some +air to breathe. Don't you take on so. You come along out and tell me +all about it.' + +She started to walk to where I was, and suddenly I seen she was +limping. So I gave her a hand down to my room, and set her on a chair. + +'Now then,' I says again. + +'Don't be angry with me, Uncle Bill,' she says. + +And she looks at me so pitiful that I goes up to her and puts my arm +round her and pats her on the back. + +'Don't you worry, dearie,' I says, 'nobody ain't going to be angry with +you. But, for goodness' sake,' I says, 'tell a man why in the name of +goodness you ever took and acted so foolish.' + +'I wanted to end it all.' + +'But why?' + +She burst out a-crying again, like a kid. + +'Didn't you read about it in the paper, Uncle Bill?' + +'Read about what in the paper?' + +'My accident. I broke my ankle at rehearsal ever so long ago, practising +my new dance. The doctors say it will never be right again. I shall +never be able to dance any more. I shall always limp. I shan't even be +able to walk properly. And when I thought of that ... and Andy ... and +everything ... I....' + +I got on to my feet. + +'Well, well, well,' I says. 'Well, well, well! I don't know as I blame +you. But don't you do it. It's a mug's game. Look here, if I leave you +alone for half an hour, you won't go trying it on again? Promise.' + +'Very well, Uncle Bill. Where are you going?' + +'Oh, just out. I'll be back soon. You sit there and rest yourself.' + +It didn't take me ten minutes to get to the restaurant in a cab. I +found Andy in the back room. + +'What's the matter, Henry?' he says. + +'Take a look at this,' I says. + +There's always this risk, mister, in being the Andy type of feller what +must have his own way and goes straight ahead and has it; and that is +that when trouble does come to him, it comes with a rush. It sometimes +seems to me that in this life we've all got to have trouble sooner or +later, and some of us gets it bit by bit, spread out thin, so to speak, +and a few of us gets it in a lump--_biff_! And that was what +happened to Andy, and what I knew was going to happen when I showed him +that letter. I nearly says to him, 'Brace up, young feller, because +this is where you get it.' + +I don't often go to the theatre, but when I do I like one of those +plays with some ginger in them which the papers generally cuss. The +papers say that real human beings don't carry on in that way. Take it +from me, mister, they do. I seen a feller on the stage read a letter +once which didn't just suit him; and he gasped and rolled his eyes and +tried to say something and couldn't, and had to get a hold on a chair +to keep him from falling. There was a piece in the paper saying that +this was all wrong, and that he wouldn't of done them things in real +life. Believe me, the paper was wrong. There wasn't a thing that feller +did that Andy didn't do when he read that letter. + +'God!' he says. 'Is she ... She isn't.... Were you in time?' he says. + +And he looks at me, and I seen that he had got it in the neck, right +enough. + +'If you mean is she dead,' I says, 'no, she ain't dead.' + +'Thank God!' + +'Not yet,' I says. + +And the next moment we was out of that room and in the cab and moving +quick. + +He was never much of a talker, wasn't Andy, and he didn't chat in that +cab. He didn't say a word till we was going up the stairs. + +'Where?' he says. + +'Here,' I says. + +And I opens the door. + +Katie was standing looking out of the window. She turned as the door +opened, and then she saw Andy. Her lips parted, as if she was going to +say something, but she didn't say nothing. And Andy, he didn't say +nothing, neither. He just looked, and she just looked. + +And then he sort of stumbles across the room, and goes down on his +knees, and gets his arms around her. + +'Oh, my kid' he says. + + * * * * * + +And I seen I wasn't wanted, so I shut the door, and I hopped it. I went +and saw the last half of a music-hall. But, I don't know, it didn't +kind of have no fascination for me. You've got to give your mind to it +to appreciate good music-hall turns. + + + + +ONE TOUCH OF NATURE + + +The feelings of Mr J. Wilmot Birdsey, as he stood wedged in the crowd +that moved inch by inch towards the gates of the Chelsea Football +Ground, rather resembled those of a starving man who has just been +given a meal but realizes that he is not likely to get another for many +days. He was full and happy. He bubbled over with the joy of living and +a warm affection for his fellow-man. At the back of his mind there +lurked the black shadow of future privations, but for the moment he did +not allow it to disturb him. On this maddest, merriest day of all the +glad New Year he was content to revel in the present and allow the +future to take care of itself. + +Mr Birdsey had been doing something which he had not done since he left +New York five years ago. He had been watching a game of baseball. + +New York lost a great baseball fan when Hugo Percy de Wynter +Framlinghame, sixth Earl of Carricksteed, married Mae Elinor, only +daughter of Mr and Mrs J. Wilmot Birdsey of East Seventy-Third Street; +for scarcely had that internationally important event taken place when +Mrs Birdsey, announcing that for the future the home would be in +England as near as possible to dear Mae and dear Hugo, scooped J. +Wilmot out of his comfortable morris chair as if he had been a clam, +corked him up in a swift taxicab, and decanted him into a Deck B +stateroom on the _Olympic_. And there he was, an exile. + +Mr Birdsey submitted to the worst bit of kidnapping since the days of +the old press gang with that delightful amiability which made him so +popular among his fellows and such a cypher in his home. At an early +date in his married life his position had been clearly defined beyond +possibility of mistake. It was his business to make money, and, when +called upon, to jump through hoops and sham dead at the bidding of his +wife and daughter Mae. These duties he had been performing +conscientiously for a matter of twenty years. + +It was only occasionally that his humble role jarred upon him, for he +loved his wife and idolized his daughter. The international alliance +had been one of these occasions. He had no objection to Hugo Percy, +sixth Earl of Carricksteed. The crushing blow had been the sentence of +exile. He loved baseball with a love passing the love of women, and the +prospect of never seeing a game again in his life appalled him. + +And then, one morning, like a voice from another world, had come the +news that the White Sox and the Giants were to give an exhibition in +London at the Chelsea Football Ground. He had counted the days like a +child before Christmas. + +There had been obstacles to overcome before he could attend the game, +but he had overcome them, and had been seated in the front row when the +two teams lined up before King George. + +And now he was moving slowly from the ground with the rest of the +spectators. Fate had been very good to him. It had given him a great +game, even unto two home-runs. But its crowning benevolence had been to +allot the seats on either side of him to two men of his own mettle, two +god-like beings who knew every move on the board, and howled like +wolves when they did not see eye to eye with the umpire. Long before +the ninth innings he was feeling towards them the affection of a +shipwrecked mariner who meets a couple of boyhood's chums on a desert +island. + +As he shouldered his way towards the gate he was aware of these two +men, one on either side of him. He looked at them fondly, trying to +make up his mind which of them he liked best. It was sad to think that +they must soon go out of his life again for ever. + +He came to a sudden resolution. He would postpone the parting. He would +ask them to dinner. Over the best that the Savoy Hotel could provide +they would fight the afternoon's battle over again. He did not know who +they were or anything about them, but what did that matter? They were +brother-fans. That was enough for him. + +The man on his right was young, clean-shaven, and of a somewhat +vulturine cast of countenance. His face was cold and impassive now, +almost forbiddingly so; but only half an hour before it had been a +battle-field of conflicting emotions, and his hat still showed the dent +where he had banged it against the edge of his seat on the occasion of +Mr Daly's home-run. A worthy guest! + +The man on Mr Birdsey's left belonged to another species of fan. Though +there had been times during the game when he had howled, for the most +part he had watched in silence so hungrily tense that a less +experienced observer than Mr Birdsey might have attributed his +immobility to boredom. But one glance at his set jaw and gleaming eyes +told him that here also was a man and a brother. + +This man's eyes were still gleaming, and under their curiously deep tan +his bearded cheeks were pale. He was staring straight in front of him +with an unseeing gaze. + +Mr Birdsey tapped the young man on the shoulder. + +'Some game!' he said. + +The young man looked at him and smiled. + +'You bet,' he said. + +'I haven't seen a ball-game in five years.' + +'The last one I saw was two years ago next June.' + +'Come and have some dinner at my hotel and talk it over,' said Mr +Birdsey impulsively. + +'Sure!' said the young man. + +Mr Birdsey turned and tapped the shoulder of the man on his left. + +The result was a little unexpected. The man gave a start that was +almost a leap, and the pallor of his face became a sickly white. His +eyes, as he swung round, met Mr Birdsey's for an instant before they +dropped, and there was panic fear in them. His breath whistled softly +through clenched teeth. + +Mr Birdsey was taken aback. The cordiality of the clean-shaven young +man had not prepared him for the possibility of such a reception. He +felt chilled. He was on the point of apologizing with some murmur about +a mistake, when the man reassured him by smiling. It was rather a +painful smile, but it was enough for Mr Birdsey. This man might be of a +nervous temperament, but his heart was in the right place. + +He, too, smiled. He was a small, stout, red-faced little man, and he +possessed a smile that rarely failed to set strangers at their ease. +Many strenuous years on the New York Stock Exchange had not destroyed a +certain childlike amiability in Mr Birdsey, and it shone out when he +smiled at you. + +'I'm afraid I startled you,' he said soothingly. 'I wanted to ask you +if you would let a perfect stranger, who also happens to be an exile, +offer you dinner tonight.' + +The man winced. 'Exile?' + +'An exiled fan. Don't you feel that the Polo Grounds are a good long +way away? This gentleman is joining me. I have a suite at the Savoy +Hotel, and I thought we might all have a quiet little dinner there and +talk about the game. I haven't seen a ball-game in five years.' + +'Nor have I.' + +'Then you must come. You really must. We fans ought to stick to one +another in a strange land. Do come.' + +'Thank you,' said the bearded man; 'I will.' + +When three men, all strangers, sit down to dinner together, +conversation, even if they happen to have a mutual passion for +baseball, is apt to be for a while a little difficult. The first fine +frenzy in which Mr Birdsey had issued his invitations had begun to ebb +by the time the soup was served, and he was conscious of a feeling of +embarrassment. + +There was some subtle hitch in the orderly progress of affairs. He +sensed it in the air. Both of his guests were disposed to silence, and +the clean-shaven young man had developed a trick of staring at the man +with the beard, which was obviously distressing that sensitive person. + +'Wine,' murmured Mr Birdsey to the waiter. 'Wine, wine!' + +He spoke with the earnestness of a general calling up his reserves for +the grand attack. The success of this little dinner mattered enormously +to him. There were circumstances which were going to make it an oasis +in his life. He wanted it to be an occasion to which, in grey days to +come, he could look back and be consoled. He could not let it be a +failure. + +He was about to speak when the young man anticipated him. Leaning +forward, he addressed the bearded man, who was crumbling bread with an +absent look in his eyes. + +'Surely we have met before?' he said. 'I'm sure I remember your face.' + +The effect of these words on the other was as curious as the effect of +Mr Birdsey's tap on the shoulder had been. He looked up like a hunted +animal. + +He shook his head without speaking. + +'Curious,' said the young man. 'I could have sworn to it, and I am +positive that it was somewhere in New York. Do you come from New York?' + +'Yes.' + +'It seems to me,' said Mr Birdsey, 'that we ought to introduce +ourselves. Funny it didn't strike any of us before. My name is Birdsey, +J. Wilmot Birdsey. I come from New York.' + +'My name is Waterall,' said the young man. 'I come from New York.' + +The bearded man hesitated. + +'My name is Johnson. I--used to live in New York.' + +'Where do you live now, Mr Johnson?' asked Waterall. + +The bearded man hesitated again. 'Algiers,' he said. + +Mr Birdsey was inspired to help matters along with small-talk. + +'Algiers,' he said. 'I have never been there, but I understand that it +is quite a place. Are you in business there, Mr Johnson?' + +'I live there for my health.' + +'Have you been there some time?' inquired Waterall. + +'Five years.' + +'Then it must have been in New York that I saw you, for I have never +been to Algiers, and I'm certain I have seen you somewhere. I'm afraid +you will think me a bore for sticking to the point like this, but the +fact is, the one thing I pride myself on is my memory for faces. It's a +hobby of mine. If I think I remember a face, and can't place it, I +worry myself into insomnia. It's partly sheer vanity, and partly +because in my job a good memory for faces is a mighty fine asset. It +has helped me a hundred times.' + +Mr Birdsey was an intelligent man, and he could see that Waterall's +table-talk was for some reason getting upon Johnson's nerves. Like a +good host, he endeavoured to cut in and make things smooth. + +'I've heard great accounts of Algiers,' he said helpfully. 'A friend of +mine was there in his yacht last year. It must be a delightful spot.' + +'It's a hell on earth,' snapped Johnson, and slew the conversation on +the spot. + +Through a grim silence an angel in human form fluttered in--a waiter +bearing a bottle. The pop of the cork was more than music to Mr +Birdsey's ears. It was the booming of the guns of the relieving army. + +The first glass, as first glasses will, thawed the bearded man, to the +extent of inducing him to try and pick up the fragments of the +conversation which he had shattered. + +'I am afraid you will have thought me abrupt, Mr Birdsey,' he said +awkwardly; 'but then you haven't lived in Algiers for five years, and I +have.' + +Mr Birdsey chirruped sympathetically. + +'I liked it at first. It looked mighty good to me. But five years of it, +and nothing else to look forward to till you die....' + +He stopped, and emptied his glass. Mr Birdsey was still perturbed. +True, conversation was proceeding in a sort of way, but it had taken a +distinctly gloomy turn. Slightly flushed with the excellent champagne +which he had selected for this important dinner, he endeavoured to +lighten it. + +'I wonder,' he said, 'which of us three fans had the greatest +difficulty in getting to the bleachers today. I guess none of us found +it too easy.' + +The young man shook his head. + +'Don't count on me to contribute a romantic story to this Arabian +Night's Entertainment. My difficulty would have been to stop away. My +name's Waterall, and I'm the London correspondent of the _New York +Chronicle_. I had to be there this afternoon in the way of +business.' + +Mr Birdsey giggled self-consciously, but not without a certain impish +pride. + +'The laugh will be on me when you hear my confession. My daughter +married an English earl, and my wife brought me over here to mix with +his crowd. There was a big dinner-party tonight, at which the whole +gang were to be present, and it was as much as my life was worth to +side-step it. But when you get the Giants and the White Sox playing +ball within fifty miles of you--Well, I packed a grip and sneaked out +the back way, and got to the station and caught the fast train to +London. And what is going on back there at this moment I don't like to +think. About now,' said Mr Birdsey, looking at his watch, 'I guess +they'll be pronging the _hors d'oeuvres_ and gazing at the empty +chair. It was a shame to do it, but, for the love of Mike, what else +could I have done?' + +He looked at the bearded man. + +'Did you have any adventures, Mr Johnson?' + +'No. I--I just came.' + +The young man Waterall leaned forward. His manner was quiet, but his +eyes were glittering. + +'Wasn't that enough of an adventure for you?' he said. + +Their eyes met across the table. Seated between them, Mr Birdsey looked +from one to the other, vaguely disturbed. Something was happening, a +drama was going on, and he had not the key to it. + +Johnson's face was pale, and the tablecloth crumpled into a crooked +ridge under his fingers, but his voice was steady as he replied: + +'I don't understand.' + +'Will you understand if I give you your right name, Mr Benyon?' + +'What's all this?' said Mr Birdsey feebly. + +Waterall turned to him, the vulturine cast of his face more noticeable +than ever. Mr Birdsey was conscious of a sudden distaste for this young +man. + +'It's quite simple, Mr Birdsey. If you have not been entertaining +angels unawares, you have at least been giving a dinner to a celebrity. +I told you I was sure I had seen this gentleman before. I have just +remembered where, and when. This is Mr John Benyon, and I last saw him +five years ago when I was a reporter in New York, and covered his +trial.' + +'His trial?' + +'He robbed the New Asiatic Bank of a hundred thousand dollars, jumped +his bail, and was never heard of again.' + +'For the love of Mike!' + +Mr Birdsey stared at his guest with eyes that grew momently wider. He +was amazed to find that deep down in him there was an unmistakable +feeling of elation. He had made up his mind, when he left home that +morning, that this was to be a day of days. Well, nobody could call +this an anti-climax. + +'So that's why you have been living in Algiers?' + +Benyon did not reply. Outside, the Strand traffic sent a faint murmur +into the warm, comfortable room. + +Waterall spoke. 'What on earth induced you, Benyon, to run the risk of +coming to London, where every second man you meet is a New Yorker, I +can't understand. The chances were two to one that you would be +recognized. You made a pretty big splash with that little affair of +yours five years ago.' + +Benyon raised his head. His hands were trembling. + +'I'll tell you,' he said with a kind of savage force, which hurt kindly +little Mr Birdsey like a blow. 'It was because I was a dead man, and +saw a chance of coming to life for a day; because I was sick of the +damned tomb I've been living in for five centuries; because I've been +aching for New York ever since I've left it--and here was a chance of +being back there for a few hours. I knew there was a risk. I took a +chance on it. Well?' + +Mr Birdsey's heart was almost too full for words. He had found him at +last, the Super-Fan, the man who would go through fire and water for a +sight of a game of baseball. Till that moment he had been regarding +himself as the nearest approach to that dizzy eminence. He had braved +great perils to see this game. Even in this moment his mind would not +wholly detach itself from speculation as to what his wife would say to +him when he slunk back into the fold. But what had he risked compared +with this man Benyon? Mr Birdsey glowed. He could not restrain his +sympathy and admiration. True, the man was a criminal. He had robbed a +bank of a hundred thousand dollars. But, after all, what was that? They +would probably have wasted the money in foolishness. And, anyway, a +bank which couldn't take care of its money deserved to lose it. + +Mr Birdsey felt almost a righteous glow of indignation against the New +Asiatic Bank. + +He broke the silence which had followed Benyon's words with a +peculiarly immoral remark: + +'Well, it's lucky it's only us that's recognized you,' he said. + +Waterall stared. 'Are you proposing that we should hush this thing up, +Mr Birdsey?' he said coldly. + +'Oh, well--' + +Waterall rose and went to the telephone. + +'What are you going to do?' + +'Call up Scotland Yard, of course. What did you think?' + +Undoubtedly the young man was doing his duty as a citizen, yet it is to +be recorded that Mr Birdsey eyed him with unmixed horror. + +'You can't! You mustn't!' he cried. + +'I certainly shall.' + +'But--but--this fellow came all that way to see the ball-game.' + +It seemed incredible to Mr Birdsey that this aspect of the affair +should not be the one to strike everybody to the exclusion of all other +aspects. + +'You can't give him up. It's too raw.' + +'He's a convicted criminal.' + +'He's a fan. Why, say, he's _the_ fan.' + +Waterall shrugged his shoulders, and walked to the telephone. Benyon +spoke. + +'One moment.' + +Waterall turned, and found himself looking into the muzzle of a small +pistol. He laughed. + +'I expected that. Wave it about all you want' + +Benyon rested his shaking hand on the edge of the table. + +'I'll shoot if you move.' + +'You won't. You haven't the nerve. There's nothing to you. You're just +a cheap crook, and that's all. You wouldn't find the nerve to pull that +trigger in a million years.' + +He took off the receiver. + +'Give me Scotland Yard,' he said. + +He had turned his back to Benyon. Benyon sat motionless. Then, with a +thud, the pistol fell to the ground. The next moment Benyon had broken +down. His face was buried in his arms, and he was a wreck of a man, +sobbing like a hurt child. + +Mr Birdsey was profoundly distressed. He sat tingling and helpless. +This was a nightmare. + +Waterall's level voice spoke at the telephone. + +'Is this Scotland Yard? I am Waterall, of the _New York +Chronicle_. Is Inspector Jarvis there? Ask him to come to the +phone.... Is that you, Jarvis? This is Waterall. I'm speaking from the +Savoy, Mr Birdsey's rooms. Birdsey. Listen, Jarvis. There's a man here +that's wanted by the American police. Send someone here and get him. +Benyon. Robbed the New Asiatic Bank in New York. Yes, you've a warrant +out for him, five years old.... All right.' + +He hung up the receiver. Benyon sprang to his feet. He stood, shaking, +a pitiable sight. Mr Birdsey had risen with him. They stood looking at +Waterall. + +'You--skunk!' said Mr Birdsey. + +'I'm an American citizen,' said Waterall, 'and I happen to have some +idea of a citizen's duties. What is more, I'm a newspaper man, and I +have some idea of my duty to my paper. Call me what you like, you won't +alter that.' + +Mr Birdsey snorted. + +'You're suffering from ingrowing sentimentality, Mr Birdsey. That's +what's the matter with you. Just because this man has escaped justice +for five years, you think he ought to be considered quit of the whole +thing.' + +'But--but--' + +'I don't.' + +He took out his cigarette case. He was feeling a great deal more +strung-up and nervous than he would have had the others suspect. He had +had a moment of very swift thinking before he had decided to treat that +ugly little pistol in a spirit of contempt. Its production had given +him a decided shock, and now he was suffering from reaction. As a +consequence, because his nerves were strained, he lit his cigarette +very languidly, very carefully, and with an offensive superiority which +was to Mr Birdsey the last straw. + +These things are matters of an instant. Only an infinitesimal fraction +of time elapsed between the spectacle of Mr Birdsey, indignant but +inactive, and Mr Birdsey berserk, seeing red, frankly and undisguisedly +running amok. The transformation took place in the space of time +required for the lighting of a match. + +Even as the match gave out its flame, Mr Birdsey sprang. + +Aeons before, when the young blood ran swiftly in his veins and life +was all before him, Mr Birdsey had played football. Once a footballer, +always a potential footballer, even to the grave. Time had removed the +flying tackle as a factor in Mr Birdsey's life. Wrath brought it back. +He dived at young Mr Waterall's neatly trousered legs as he had dived +at other legs, less neatly trousered, thirty years ago. They crashed to +the floor together; and with the crash came Mr Birdsey's shout: + +'Run! Run, you fool! Run!' + +And, even as he clung to his man, breathless, bruised, feeling as if +all the world had dissolved in one vast explosion of dynamite, the door +opened, banged to, and feet fled down the passage. + +Mr Birdsey disentangled himself, and rose painfully. The shock had +brought him to himself. He was no longer berserk. He was a middle-aged +gentleman of high respectability who had been behaving in a very +peculiar way. + +Waterall, flushed and dishevelled, glared at him speechlessly. He +gulped. 'Are you crazy?' + +Mr Birdsey tested gingerly the mechanism of a leg which lay under +suspicion of being broken. Relieved, he put his foot to the ground +again. He shook his head at Waterall. He was slightly crumpled, but he +achieved a manner of dignified reproof. + +'You shouldn't have done it, young man. It was raw work. Oh, yes, I +know all about that duty-of-a-citizen stuff. It doesn't go. There are +exceptions to every rule, and this was one of them. When a man risks +his liberty to come and root at a ball-game, you've got to hand it to +him. He isn't a crook. He's a fan. And we exiled fans have got to stick +together.' + +Waterall was quivering with fury, disappointment, and the peculiar +unpleasantness of being treated by an elderly gentleman like a sack of +coals. He stammered with rage. + +'You damned old fool, do you realize what you've done? The police will +be here in another minute.' + +'Let them come.' + +'But what am I to say to them? What explanation can I give? What story +can I tell them? Can't you see what a hole you've put me in?' + +Something seemed to click inside Mr Birdsey's soul. It was the berserk +mood vanishing and reason leaping back on to her throne. He was able +now to think calmly, and what he thought about filled him with a sudden +gloom. + +'Young man,' he said, 'don't worry yourself. You've got a cinch. You've +only got to hand a story to the police. Any old tale will do for them. +I'm the man with the really difficult job--I've got to square myself +with my wife!' + + + + +BLACK FOR LUCK + + +He was black, but comely. Obviously in reduced circumstances, he had +nevertheless contrived to retain a certain smartness, a certain +air--what the French call the _tournure_. Nor had poverty killed +in him the aristocrat's instinct of personal cleanliness; for even as +Elizabeth caught sight of him he began to wash himself. + +At the sound of her step he looked up. He did not move, but there was +suspicion in his attitude. The muscles of his back contracted, his eyes +glowed like yellow lamps against black velvet, his tail switched a +little, warningly. + +Elizabeth looked at him. He looked at Elizabeth. There was a pause, +while he summed her up. Then he stalked towards her, and, suddenly +lowering his head, drove it vigorously against her dress. He permitted +her to pick him up and carry him into the hall-way, where Francis, the +janitor, stood. + +'Francis,' said Elizabeth, 'does this cat belong to anyone here?' + +'No, miss. That cat's a stray, that cat is. I been trying to locate +that cat's owner for days.' + +Francis spent his time trying to locate things. It was the one +recreation of his eventless life. Sometimes it was a noise, sometimes a +lost letter, sometimes a piece of ice which had gone astray in the +dumb-waiter--whatever it was, Francis tried to locate it. + +'Has he been round here long, then?' + +'I seen him snooping about a considerable time.' + +'I shall keep him.' + +'Black cats bring luck,' said Francis sententiously. + +'I certainly shan't object to that,' said Elizabeth. She was feeling +that morning that a little luck would be a pleasing novelty. Things had +not been going very well with her of late. It was not so much that the +usual proportion of her manuscripts had come back with editorial +compliments from the magazine to which they had been sent--she accepted +that as part of the game; what she did consider scurvy treatment at the +hands of fate was the fact that her own pet magazine, the one to which +she had been accustomed to fly for refuge, almost sure of a +welcome--when coldly treated by all the others--had suddenly expired +with a low gurgle for want of public support. It was like losing a kind +and open-handed relative, and it made the addition of a black cat to +the household almost a necessity. + +In her flat, the door closed, she watched her new ally with some +anxiety. He had behaved admirably on the journey upstairs, but she +would not have been surprised, though it would have pained her, if he +had now proceeded to try to escape through the ceiling. Cats were so +emotional. However, he remained calm, and, after padding silently about +the room for awhile, raised his head and uttered a crooning cry. + +'That's right,' said Elizabeth, cordially. 'If you don't see what you +want, ask for it. The place is yours.' + +She went to the ice-box, and produced milk and sardines. There was +nothing finicky or affected about her guest. He was a good trencherman, +and he did not care who knew it. He concentrated himself on the +restoration of his tissues with the purposeful air of one whose last +meal is a dim memory. Elizabeth, brooding over him like a Providence, +wrinkled her forehead in thought. + +'Joseph,' she said at last, brightening; 'that's your name. Now settle +down, and start being a mascot.' + +Joseph settled down amazingly. By the end of the second day he was +conveying the impression that he was the real owner of the apartment, +and that it was due to his good nature that Elizabeth was allowed the +run of the place. Like most of his species, he was an autocrat. He +waited a day to ascertain which was Elizabeth's favourite chair, then +appropriated it for his own. If Elizabeth closed a door while he was in +a room, he wanted it opened so that he might go out; if she closed it +while he was outside, he wanted it opened so that he might come in; if +she left it open, he fussed about the draught. But the best of us have +our faults, and Elizabeth adored him in spite of his. + +It was astonishing what a difference he made in her life. She was a +friendly soul, and until Joseph's arrival she had had to depend for +company mainly on the footsteps of the man in the flat across the way. +Moreover, the building was an old one, and it creaked at night. There +was a loose board in the passage which made burglar noises in the dark +behind you when you stepped on it on the way to bed; and there were +funny scratching sounds which made you jump and hold your breath. +Joseph soon put a stop to all that. With Joseph around, a loose board +became a loose board, nothing more, and a scratching noise just a plain +scratching noise. + +And then one afternoon he disappeared. + +Having searched the flat without finding him, Elizabeth went to the +window, with the intention of making a bird's-eye survey of the street. +She was not hopeful, for she had just come from the street, and there +had been no sign of him then. + +Outside the window was a broad ledge, running the width of the +building. It terminated on the left, in a shallow balcony belonging to +the flat whose front door faced hers--the flat of the young man whose +footsteps she sometimes heard. She knew he was a young man, because +Francis had told her so. His name, James Renshaw Boyd, she had learned +from the same source. + +On this shallow balcony, licking his fur with the tip of a crimson +tongue and generally behaving as if he were in his own backyard, sat +Joseph. + +'Jo-seph!' cried Elizabeth--surprise, joy, and reproach combining to +give her voice an almost melodramatic quiver. + +He looked at her coldly. Worse, he looked at her as if she had been an +utter stranger. Bulging with her meat and drink, he cut her dead; and, +having done so, turned and walked into the next flat. + +Elizabeth was a girl of spirit. Joseph might look at her as if she were +a saucerful of tainted milk, but he was her cat, and she meant to get +him back. She went out and rang the bell of Mr James Renshaw Boyd's +flat. + +The door was opened by a shirt-sleeved young man. He was by no means an +unsightly young man. Indeed, of his type--the rough-haired, +clean-shaven, square-jawed type--he was a distinctly good-looking young +man. Even though she was regarding him at the moment purely in the +light of a machine for returning strayed cats, Elizabeth noticed that. + +She smiled upon him. It was not the fault of this nice-looking young +man that his sitting-room window was open; or that Joseph was an +ungrateful little beast who should have no fish that night. + +'Would you mind letting me have my cat, please?' she said pleasantly. +'He has gone into your sitting-room through the window.' + +He looked faintly surprised. + +'Your cat?' + +'My black cat, Joseph. He is in your sitting-room.' + +'I'm afraid you have come to the wrong place. I've just left my +sitting-room, and the only cat there is my black cat, Reginald.' + +'But I saw Joseph go in only a minute ago.' + +'That was Reginald.' + +For the first time, as one who examining a fair shrub abruptly +discovers that it is a stinging-nettle, Elizabeth realized the truth. +This was no innocent young man who stood before her, but the blackest +criminal known to criminologists--a stealer of other people's cats. Her +manner shot down to zero. + +'May I ask how long you have had your Reginald?' + +'Since four o'clock this afternoon.' + +'Did he come in through the window?' + +'Why, yes. Now you mention it, he did.' + +'I must ask you to be good enough to give me back my cat,' said +Elizabeth, icily. + +He regarded her defensively. + +'Assuming,' he said, 'purely for the purposes of academic argument, +that your Joseph is my Reginald, couldn't we come to an agreement of +some sort? Let me buy you another cat. A dozen cats.' + +'I don't want a dozen cats. I want Joseph.' + +'Fine, fat, soft cats,' he went on persuasively. 'Lovely, affectionate +Persians and Angoras, and--' + +'Of course, if you intend to steal Joseph--' + +'These are harsh words. Any lawyer will tell you that there are special +statutes regarding cats. To retain a stray cat is not a tort or a +misdemeanour. In the celebrated test-case of Wiggins _v_. Bluebody +it was established--' + +'Will you please give me back my cat?' + +She stood facing him, her chin in the air and her eyes shining, and the +young man suddenly fell a victim to conscience. + +'Look here,' he said, 'I'll throw myself on your mercy. I admit the cat +is your cat, and that I have no right to it, and that I am just a +common sneak-thief. But consider. I had just come back from the first +rehearsal of my first play; and as I walked in at the door that cat +walked in at the window. I'm as superstitious as a coon, and I felt +that to give him up would be equivalent to killing the play before ever +it was produced. I know it will sound absurd to you. _You_ have no +idiotic superstitions. You are sane and practical. But, in the +circumstances, if you _could_ see your way to waiving your +rights--' + +Before the wistfulness of his eye Elizabeth capitulated. She felt quite +overcome by the revulsion of feeling which swept through her. How she +had misjudged him! She had taken him for an ordinary soulless purloiner +of cats, a snapper-up of cats at random and without reason; and all the +time he had been reluctantly compelled to the act by this deep and +praiseworthy motive. All the unselfishness and love of sacrifice innate +in good women stirred within her. + +'Why, of _course_ you mustn't let him go! It would mean awful bad +luck.' + +'But how about you--' + +'Never mind about me. Think of all the people who are dependent on your +play being a success.' + +The young man blinked. + +'This is overwhelming,' he said. + +'I had no notion why you wanted him. He was nothing to me--at least, +nothing much--that is to say--well, I suppose I was rather fond of +him--but he was not--not--' + +'Vital?' + +'That's just the word I wanted. He was just company, you know.' + +'Haven't you many friends?' + +'I haven't any friends.' + +'You haven't any friends! That settles it. You must take him back.' + +'I couldn't think of it.' + +'Of course you must take him back at once.' + +'I really couldn't.' + +'You must.' + +'I won't.' + +'But, good gracious, how do you suppose I should feel, knowing that you +were all alone and that I had sneaked your--your ewe lamb, as it were?' + +'And how do you suppose I should feel if your play failed simply for +lack of a black cat?' + +He started, and ran his fingers through his rough hair in an +overwrought manner. + +'Solomon couldn't have solved this problem,' he said. 'How would it +be--it seems the only possible way out--if you were to retain a sort of +managerial right in him? Couldn't you sometimes step across and chat +with him--and me, incidentally--over here? I'm very nearly as lonesome +as you are. Chicago is my home. I hardly know a soul in New York.' + +Her solitary life in the big city had forced upon Elizabeth the ability +to form instantaneous judgements on the men she met. She flashed a +glance at the young man and decided in his favour. + +'It's very kind of you,' she said. 'I should love to. I want to hear +all about your play. I write myself, you know, in a very small way, so +a successful playwright is Someone to me.' + +'I wish I were a successful playwright.' + +'Well, you are having the first play you have ever written produced on +Broadway. That's pretty wonderful.' + +''M--yes,' said the young man. It seemed to Elizabeth that he spoke +doubtfully, and this modesty consolidated the favourable impression she +had formed. + + * * * * * + +The gods are just. For every ill which they inflict they also supply a +compensation. It seems good to them that individuals in big cities +shall be lonely, but they have so arranged that, if one of these +individuals does at last contrive to seek out and form a friendship +with another, that friendship shall grow more swiftly than the tepid +acquaintanceships of those on whom the icy touch of loneliness has +never fallen. Within a week Elizabeth was feeling that she had known +this James Renshaw Boyd all her life. + +And yet there was a tantalizing incompleteness about his personal +reminiscences. Elizabeth was one of those persons who like to begin a +friendship with a full statement of their position, their previous +life, and the causes which led up to their being in this particular +spot at this particular time. At their next meeting, before he had had +time to say much on his own account, she had told him of her life in +the small Canadian town where she had passed the early part of her +life; of the rich and unexpected aunt who had sent her to college for +no particular reason that anyone could ascertain except that she +enjoyed being unexpected; of the legacy from this same aunt, far +smaller than might have been hoped for, but sufficient to send a +grateful Elizabeth to New York, to try her luck there; of editors, +magazines, manuscripts refused or accepted, plots for stories; of life +in general, as lived down where the Arch spans Fifth Avenue and the +lighted cross of the Judson shines by night on Washington Square. + +Ceasing eventually, she waited for him to begin; and he did not +begin--not, that is to say, in the sense the word conveyed to +Elizabeth. He spoke briefly of college, still more briefly of +Chicago--which city he appeared to regard with a distaste that made +Lot's attitude towards the Cities of the Plain almost kindly by +comparison. Then, as if he had fulfilled the demands of the most +exacting inquisitor in the matter of personal reminiscence, he began to +speak of the play. + +The only facts concerning him to which Elizabeth could really have +sworn with a clear conscience at the end of the second week of their +acquaintance were that he was very poor, and that this play meant +everything to him. + +The statement that it meant everything to him insinuated itself so +frequently into his conversation that it weighed on Elizabeth's mind +like a burden, and by degrees she found herself giving the play place +of honour in her thoughts over and above her own little ventures. With +this stupendous thing hanging in the balance, it seemed almost wicked +of her to devote a moment to wondering whether the editor of an evening +paper, who had half promised to give her the entrancing post of Adviser +to the Lovelorn on his journal, would fulfil that half-promise. + +At an early stage in their friendship the young man had told her the +plot of the piece; and if he had not unfortunately forgotten several +important episodes and had to leap back to them across a gulf of one or +two acts, and if he had referred to his characters by name instead of +by such descriptions as 'the fellow who's in love with the girl--not +what's-his-name but the other chap'--she would no doubt have got that +mental half-Nelson on it which is such a help towards the proper +understanding of a four-act comedy. As it was, his precis had left her +a little vague; but she said it was perfectly splendid, and he said did +she really think so. And she said yes, she did, and they were both +happy. + +Rehearsals seemed to prey on his spirits a good deal. He attended them +with the pathetic regularity of the young dramatist, but they appeared +to bring him little balm. Elizabeth generally found him steeped in +gloom, and then she would postpone the recital, to which she had been +looking forward, of whatever little triumph she might have happened to +win, and devote herself to the task of cheering him up. If women were +wonderful in no other way, they would be wonderful for their genius for +listening to shop instead of talking it. + +Elizabeth was feeling more than a little proud of the way in which her +judgement of this young man was being justified. Life in Bohemian New +York had left her decidedly wary of strange young men, not formally +introduced; her faith in human nature had had to undergo much +straining. Wolves in sheep's clothing were common objects of the +wayside in her unprotected life; and perhaps her chief reason for +appreciating this friendship was the feeling of safety which it gave +her. + +Their relations, she told herself, were so splendidly unsentimental. +There was no need for that silent defensiveness which had come to seem +almost an inevitable accompaniment to dealings with the opposite sex. +James Boyd, she felt, she could trust; and it was wonderful how +soothing the reflexion was. + +And that was why, when the thing happened, it so shocked and frightened +her. + +It had been one of their quiet evenings. Of late they had fallen into +the habit of sitting for long periods together without speaking. But it +had differed from other quiet evenings through the fact that +Elizabeth's silence hid a slight but well-defined feeling of injury. +Usually she sat happy with her thoughts, but tonight she was ruffled. +She had a grievance. + +That afternoon the editor of the evening paper, whose angelic status +not even a bald head and an absence of wings and harp could conceal, +had definitely informed her that the man who had conducted the column +hitherto having resigned, the post of Heloise Milton, official adviser +to readers troubled with affairs of the heart, was hers; and he looked +to her to justify the daring experiment of letting a woman handle so +responsible a job. Imagine how Napoleon felt after Austerlitz, picture +Colonel Goethale contemplating the last spadeful of dirt from the +Panama Canal, try to visualize a suburban householder who sees a flower +emerging from the soil in which he has inserted a packet of guaranteed +seeds, and you will have some faint conception how Elizabeth felt as +those golden words proceeded from that editor's lips. For the moment +Ambition was sated. The years, rolling by, might perchance open out +other vistas; but for the moment she was content. + +Into James Boyd's apartment she had walked, stepping on fleecy clouds +of rapture, to tell him the great news. + +She told him the great news. + +He said, 'Ah!' + +There are many ways of saying 'Ah!' You can put joy, amazement, rapture +into it; you can also make it sound as if it were a reply to a remark +on the weather. James Boyd made it sound just like that. His hair was +rumpled, his brow contracted, and his manner absent. The impression he +gave Elizabeth was that he had barely heard her. The next moment he was +deep in a recital of the misdemeanours of the actors now rehearsing for +his four-act comedy. The star had done this, the leading woman that, +the juvenile something else. For the first time Elizabeth listened +unsympathetically. + +The time came when speech failed James Boyd, and he sat back in his +chair, brooding. Elizabeth, cross and wounded, sat in hers, nursing +Joseph. And so, in a dim light, time flowed by. + +Just how it happened she never knew. One moment, peace; the next chaos. +One moment stillness; the next, Joseph hurtling through the air, all +claws and expletives, and herself caught in a clasp which shook the +breath from her. + +One can dimly reconstruct James's train of thought. He is in despair; +things are going badly at the theatre, and life has lost its savour. +His eye, as he sits, is caught by Elizabeth's profile. It is a +pretty--above all, a soothing--profile. An almost painful +sentimentality sweeps over James Boyd. There she sits, his only friend +in this cruel city. If you argue that there is no necessity to spring +at your only friend and nearly choke her, you argue soundly; the point +is well taken. But James Boyd was beyond the reach of sound argument. +Much rehearsing had frayed his nerves to ribbons. One may say that he +was not responsible for his actions. + +That is the case for James. Elizabeth, naturally, was not in a position +to take a wide and understanding view of it. All she knew was that James +had played her false, abused her trust in him. For a moment, such was +the shock of the surprise, she was not conscious of indignation--or, +indeed, of any sensation except the purely physical one of +semi-strangulation. Then, flushed, and more bitterly angry than she +could ever have imagined herself capable of being, she began to +struggle. She tore herself away from him. Coming on top of her +grievance, this thing filled her with a sudden, very vivid hatred of +James. At the back of her anger, feeding it, was the humiliating +thought that it was all her own fault, that by her presence there she +had invited this. + +She groped her way to the door. Something was writhing and struggling +inside her, blinding her eyes, and robbing her of speech. She was only +conscious of a desire to be alone, to be back and safe in her own home. +She was aware that he was speaking, but the words did not reach her. +She found the door, and pulled it open. She felt a hand on her arm, but +she shook it off. And then she was back behind her own door, alone and +at liberty to contemplate at leisure the ruins of that little temple of +friendship which she had built up so carefully and in which she had +been so happy. + +The broad fact that she would never forgive him was for a while her +only coherent thought. To this succeeded the determination that she +would never forgive herself. And having thus placed beyond the pale the +only two friends she had in New York, she was free to devote herself +without hindrance to the task of feeling thoroughly lonely and +wretched. + +The shadows deepened. Across the street a sort of bubbling explosion, +followed by a jerky glare that shot athwart the room, announced the +lighting of the big arc-lamp on the opposite side-walk. She resented +it, being in the mood for undiluted gloom; but she had not the energy +to pull down the shade and shut it out. She sat where she was, thinking +thoughts that hurt. + +The door of the apartment opposite opened. There was a single ring at +her bell. She did not answer it. There came another. She sat where she +was, motionless. The door closed again. + + * * * * * + +The days dragged by. Elizabeth lost count of time. Each day had its +duties, which ended when you went to bed; that was all she knew--except +that life had become very grey and very lonely, far lonelier even than +in the time when James Boyd was nothing to her but an occasional sound +of footsteps. + +Of James she saw nothing. It is not difficult to avoid anyone in New +York, even when you live just across the way. + + * * * * * + +It was Elizabeth's first act each morning, immediately on awaking, to +open her front door and gather in whatever lay outside it. Sometimes +there would be mail; and always, unless Francis, as he sometimes did, +got mixed and absent-minded, the morning milk and the morning paper. + +One morning, some two weeks after that evening of which she tried not +to think, Elizabeth, opening the door, found immediately outside it a +folded scrap of paper. She unfolded it. + + _I am just off to the theatre. Won't you wish me luck? I feel sure + it is going to be a hit. Joseph is purring like a dynamo._--J.R.B. + +In the early morning the brain works sluggishly. For an instant +Elizabeth stood looking at the words uncomprehendingly; then, with a +leaping of the heart, their meaning came home to her. He must have left +this at her door on the previous night. The play had been produced! And +somewhere in the folded interior of the morning paper at her feet must +be the opinion of 'One in Authority' concerning it! + +Dramatic criticisms have this peculiarity, that if you are looking for +them, they burrow and hide like rabbits. They dodge behind murders; +they duck behind baseball scores; they lie up snugly behind the Wall +Street news. It was a full minute before Elizabeth found what she +sought, and the first words she read smote her like a blow. + +In that vein of delightful facetiousness which so endears him to all +followers and perpetrators of the drama, the 'One in Authority' rent +and tore James Boyd's play. He knocked James Boyd's play down, and +kicked it; he jumped on it with large feet; he poured cold water on it, +and chopped it into little bits. He merrily disembowelled James Boyd's +play. + +Elizabeth quivered from head to foot. She caught at the door-post to +steady herself. In a flash all her resentment had gone, wiped away and +annihilated like a mist before the sun. She loved him, and she knew now +that she had always loved him. + +It took her two seconds to realize that the 'One in Authority' was a +miserable incompetent, incapable of recognizing merit when it was +displayed before him. It took her five minutes to dress. It took her a +minute to run downstairs and out to the news-stand on the corner of the +street. Here, with a lavishness which charmed and exhilarated the +proprietor, she bought all the other papers which he could supply. + +Moments of tragedy are best described briefly. Each of the papers +noticed the play, and each of them damned it with uncompromising +heartiness. The criticisms varied only in tone. One cursed with relish +and gusto; another with a certain pity; a third with a kind of wounded +superiority, as of one compelled against his will to speak of something +unspeakable; but the meaning of all was the same. James Boyd's play was +a hideous failure. + +Back to the house sped Elizabeth, leaving the organs of a free people +to be gathered up, smoothed, and replaced on the stand by the now more +than ever charmed proprietor. Up the stairs she sped, and arriving +breathlessly at James's door rang the bell. + +Heavy footsteps came down the passage; crushed, disheartened footsteps; +footsteps that sent a chill to Elizabeth's heart. The door opened. +James Boyd stood before her, heavy-eyed and haggard. In his eyes was +despair, and on his chin the blue growth of beard of the man from whom +the mailed fist of Fate has smitten the energy to perform his morning +shave. + +Behind him, littering the floor, were the morning papers; and at the +sight of them Elizabeth broke down. + +'Oh, Jimmy, darling!' she cried; and the next moment she was in his +arms, and for a space time stood still. + +How long afterwards it was she never knew; but eventually James Boyd +spoke. + +'If you'll marry me,' he said hoarsely, 'I don't care a hang.' + +'Jimmy, darling!' said Elizabeth, 'of course I will.' + +Past them, as they stood there, a black streak shot silently, and +disappeared out of the door. Joseph was leaving the sinking ship. + +'Let him go, the fraud,' said Elizabeth bitterly. 'I shall never +believe in black cats again.' + +But James was not of this opinion. + +'Joseph has brought me all the luck I need.' + +'But the play meant everything to you.' + +'It did then.' + +Elizabeth hesitated. + +'Jimmy, dear, it's all right, you know. I know you will make a fortune +out of your next play, and I've heaps for us both to live on till you +make good. We can manage splendidly on my salary from the _Evening +Chronicle_.' + +'What! Have you got a job on a New York paper?' + +'Yes, I told you about it. I am doing Heloise Milton. Why, what's the +matter?' + +He groaned hollowly. + +'And I was thinking that you would come back to Chicago with me!' + +'But I will. Of course I will. What did you think I meant to do?' + +'What! Give up a real job in New York!' He blinked. 'This isn't really +happening. I'm dreaming.' + +'But, Jimmy, are you sure you can get work in Chicago? Wouldn't it be +better to stay on here, where all the managers are, and--' + +He shook his head. + +'I think it's time I told you about myself,' he said. 'Am I sure I can +get work in Chicago? I am, worse luck. Darling, have you in your more +material moments ever toyed with a Boyd's Premier Breakfast-Sausage or +kept body and soul together with a slice off a Boyd's Excelsior +Home-Cured Ham? My father makes them, and the tragedy of my life is +that he wants me to help him at it. This was my position. I loathed the +family business as much as dad loved it. I had a notion--a fool notion, +as it has turned out--that I could make good in the literary line. I've +scribbled in a sort of way ever since I was in college. When the time +came for me to join the firm, I put it to dad straight. I said, "Give +me a chance, one good, square chance, to see if the divine fire is +really there, or if somebody has just turned on the alarm as a +practical joke." And we made a bargain. I had written this play, and we +made it a test-case. We fixed it up that dad should put up the money to +give it a Broadway production. If it succeeded, all right; I'm the +young Gus Thomas, and may go ahead in the literary game. If it's a +fizzle, off goes my coat, and I abandon pipe-dreams of literary +triumphs and start in as the guy who put the Co. in Boyd & Co. Well, +events have proved that I _am_ the guy, and now I'm going to keep +my part of the bargain just as squarely as dad kept his. I know quite +well that if I refused to play fair and chose to stick on here in New +York and try again, dad would go on staking me. That's the sort of man +he is. But I wouldn't do it for a million Broadway successes. I've had +my chance, and I've foozled; and now I'm going back to make him happy +by being a real live member of the firm. And the queer thing about it +is that last night I hated the idea, and this morning, now that I've +got you, I almost look forward to it.' + +He gave a little shiver. + +'And yet--I don't know. There's something rather gruesome still to my +near-artist soul in living in luxury on murdered piggies. Have you ever +seen them persuading a pig to play the stellar role in a Boyd Premier +Breakfast-Sausage? It's pretty ghastly. They string them up by their +hind legs, and--b-r-r-r-r!' + +'Never mind,' said Elizabeth soothingly. 'Perhaps they don't mind it +really.' + +'Well, I don't know,' said James Boyd, doubtfully. 'I've watched them +at it, and I'm bound to say they didn't seem any too well pleased.' + +'Try not to think of it.' + +'Very well,' said James dutifully. + +There came a sudden shout from the floor above, and on the heels of it +a shock-haired youth in pyjamas burst into the apartment. + +'Now what?' said James. 'By the way, Miss Herrold, my fiancee; Mr +Briggs--Paul Axworthy Briggs, sometimes known as the Boy Novelist. +What's troubling you, Paul?' + +Mr Briggs was stammering with excitement. + +'Jimmy,' cried the Boy Novelist, 'what do you think has happened! A +black cat has just come into my apartment. I heard him mewing outside +the door, and opened it, and he streaked in. And I started my new novel +last night! Say, you _do_ believe this thing of black cats +bringing luck, don't you?' + +'Luck! My lad, grapple that cat to your soul with hoops of steel. He's +the greatest little luck-bringer in New York. He was boarding with me +till this morning.' + +'Then--by Jove! I nearly forgot to ask--your play was a hit? I haven't +seen the papers yet' + +'Well, when you see them, don't read the notices. It was the worst +frost Broadway has seen since Columbus's time.' + +'But--I don't understand.' + +'Don't worry. You don't have to. Go back and fill that cat with fish, +or she'll be leaving you. I suppose you left the door open?' + +'My God!' said the Boy Novelist, paling, and dashed for the door. + +'Do you think Joseph _will_ bring him luck?' said Elizabeth, +thoughtfully. + +'It depends what sort of luck you mean. Joseph seems to work in devious +ways. If I know Joseph's methods, Briggs's new novel will be rejected +by every publisher in the city; and then, when he is sitting in his +apartment, wondering which of his razors to end himself with, there +will be a ring at the bell, and in will come the most beautiful girl in +the world, and then--well, then, take it from me, he will be all +right.' + +'He won't mind about the novel?' + +'Not in the least.' + +'Not even if it means that he will have to go away and kill pigs and +things.' + +'About the pig business, dear. I've noticed a slight tendency in you to +let yourself get rather morbid about it. I know they string them up by +the hind-legs, and all that sort of thing; but you must remember that a +pig looks at these things from a different standpoint. My belief is +that the pigs like it. Try not to think of it.' + +'Very well,' said Elizabeth, dutifully. + + + + +THE ROMANCE OF AN UGLY POLICEMAN + + +Crossing the Thames by Chelsea Bridge, the wanderer through London +finds himself in pleasant Battersea. Rounding the Park, where the +female of the species wanders with its young by the ornamental water +where the wild-fowl are, he comes upon a vast road. One side of this is +given up to Nature, the other to Intellect. On the right, green trees +stretch into the middle distance; on the left, endless blocks of +residential flats. It is Battersea Park Road, the home of the +cliff-dwellers. + +Police-constable Plimmer's beat embraced the first quarter of a mile of +the cliffs. It was his duty to pace in the measured fashion of the +London policeman along the front of them, turn to the right, turn to +the left, and come back along the road which ran behind them. In this +way he was enabled to keep the king's peace over no fewer than four +blocks of mansions. + +It did not require a deal of keeping. Battersea may have its tough +citizens, but they do not live in Battersea Park Road. Battersea Park +Road's speciality is Brain, not Crime. Authors, musicians, newspaper +men, actors, and artists are the inhabitants of these mansions. A child +could control them. They assault and batter nothing but pianos; they +steal nothing but ideas; they murder nobody except Chopin and +Beethoven. Not through these shall an ambitious young constable achieve +promotion. + +At this conclusion Edward Plimmer arrived within forty-eight hours of +his installation. He recognized the flats for what they were--just so +many layers of big-brained blamelessness. And there was not even the +chance of a burglary. No burglar wastes his time burgling authors. +Constable Plimmer reconciled his mind to the fact that his term in +Battersea must be looked on as something in the nature of a vacation. + +He was not altogether sorry. At first, indeed, he found the new +atmosphere soothing. His last beat had been in the heart of tempestuous +Whitechapel, where his arms had ached from the incessant hauling of +wiry inebriates to the station, and his shins had revolted at the kicks +showered upon them by haughty spirits impatient of restraint. Also, one +Saturday night, three friends of a gentleman whom he was trying to +induce not to murder his wife had so wrought upon him that, when he +came out of hospital, his already homely appearance was further marred +by a nose which resembled the gnarled root of a tree. All these things +had taken from the charm of Whitechapel, and the cloistral peace of +Battersea Park Road was grateful and comforting. + +And just when the unbroken calm had begun to lose its attraction and +dreams of action were once more troubling him, a new interest entered +his life; and with its coming he ceased to wish to be removed from +Battersea. He fell in love. + +It happened at the back of York Mansions. Anything that ever happened, +happened there; for it is at the back of these blocks of flats that the +real life is. At the front you never see anything, except an occasional +tousle-headed young man smoking a pipe; but at the back, where the +cooks come out to parley with the tradesmen, there is at certain hours +of the day quite a respectable activity. Pointed dialogues about +yesterday's eggs and the toughness of Saturday's meat are conducted +_fortissimo_ between cheerful youths in the road and satirical +young women in print dresses, who come out of their kitchen doors on to +little balconies. The whole thing has a pleasing Romeo and Juliet +touch. Romeo rattles up in his cart. 'Sixty-four!' he cries. +'Sixty-fower, sixty-fower, sixty-fow--' The kitchen door opens, and +Juliet emerges. She eyes Romeo without any great show of affection. +'Are you Perkins and Blissett?' she inquires coldly. Romeo admits it. +'Two of them yesterday's eggs was bad.' Romeo protests. He defends his +eggs. They were fresh from the hen; he stood over her while she laid +them. Juliet listens frigidly. 'I _don't_ think,' she says. 'Well, +half of sugar, one marmalade, and two of breakfast bacon,' she adds, +and ends the argument. There is a rattling as of a steamer weighing +anchor; the goods go up in the tradesman's lift; Juliet collects them, +and exits, banging the door. The little drama is over. + +Such is life at the back of York Mansions--a busy, throbbing thing. + +The peace of afternoon had fallen upon the world one day towards the +end of Constable Plimmer's second week of the simple life, when his +attention was attracted by a whistle. It was followed by a musical +'Hi!' + +Constable Plimmer looked up. On the kitchen balcony of a second-floor +flat a girl was standing. As he took her in with a slow and exhaustive +gaze, he was aware of strange thrills. There was something about this +girl which excited Constable Plimmer. I do not say that she was a +beauty; I do not claim that you or I would have raved about her; I +merely say that Constable Plimmer thought she was All Right. + +'Miss?' he said. + +'Got the time about you?' said the girl. 'All the clocks have stopped.' + +'The time,' said Constable Plimmer, consulting his watch, 'wants +exactly ten minutes to four.' + +'Thanks.' + +'Not at all, miss.' + +The girl was inclined for conversation. It was that gracious hour of +the day when you have cleared lunch and haven't got to think of dinner +yet, and have a bit of time to draw a breath or two. She leaned over +the balcony and smiled pleasantly. + +'If you want to know the time, ask a pleeceman,' she said. 'You been on +this beat long?' + +'Just short of two weeks, miss.' + +'I been here three days.' + +'I hope you like it, miss.' + +'So-so. The milkman's a nice boy.' + +Constable Plimmer did not reply. He was busy silently hating the +milkman. He knew him--one of those good-looking blighters; one of those +oiled and curled perishers; one of those blooming fascinators who go +about the world making things hard for ugly, honest men with loving +hearts. Oh, yes, he knew the milkman. + +'He's a rare one with his jokes,' said the girl. + +Constable Plimmer went on not replying. He was perfectly aware that the +milkman was a rare one with his jokes. He had heard him. The way girls +fell for anyone with the gift of the gab--that was what embittered +Constable Plimmer. + +'He--' she giggled. 'He calls me Little Pansy-Face.' + +'If you'll excuse me, miss,' said Constable Plimmer coldly, 'I'll have +to be getting along on my beat.' + +Little Pansy-Face! And you couldn't arrest him for it! What a world! +Constable Plimmer paced upon his way, a blue-clad volcano. + +It is a terrible thing to be obsessed by a milkman. To Constable +Plimmer's disordered imagination it seemed that, dating from this +interview, the world became one solid milkman. Wherever he went, he +seemed to run into this milkman. If he was in the front road, this +milkman--Alf Brooks, it appeared, was his loathsome name--came rattling +past with his jingling cans as if he were Apollo driving his chariot. +If he was round at the back, there was Alf, his damned tenor doing +duets with the balconies. And all this in defiance of the known law of +natural history that milkmen do not come out after five in the morning. +This irritated Constable Plimmer. You talk of a man 'going home with +the milk' when you mean that he sneaks in in the small hours of the +morning. If all milkmen were like Alf Brooks the phrase was +meaningless. + +He brooded. The unfairness of Fate was souring him. A man expects +trouble in his affairs of the heart from soldiers and sailors, and to +be cut out by even a postman is to fall before a worthy foe; but +milkmen--no! Only grocers' assistants and telegraph-boys were intended +by Providence to fear milkmen. + +Yet here was Alf Brooks, contrary to all rules, the established pet of +the mansions. Bright eyes shone from balconies when his 'Milk--oo--oo' +sounded. Golden voices giggled delightedly at his bellowed chaff. And +Ellen Brown, whom he called Little Pansy-Face, was definitely in love +with him. + +They were keeping company. They were walking out. This crushing truth +Edward Plimmer learned from Ellen herself. + +She had slipped out to mail a letter at the pillar-box on the corner, +and she reached it just as the policeman arrived there in the course of +his patrol. + +Nervousness impelled Constable Plimmer to be arch. + +''Ullo, 'ullo, 'ullo,' he said. 'Posting love-letters?' + +'What, me? This is to the Police Commissioner, telling him you're no +good.' + +'I'll give it to him. Him and me are taking supper tonight.' + +Nature had never intended Constable Plimmer to be playful. He was at +his worst when he rollicked. He snatched at the letter with what was +meant to be a debonair gaiety, and only succeeded in looking like an +angry gorilla. The girl uttered a startled squeak. + +The letter was addressed to Mr A. Brooks. + +Playfulness, after this, was at a discount. The girl was frightened and +angry, and he was scowling with mingled jealousy and dismay. + +'Ho!' he said. 'Ho! Mr A. Brooks!' + +Ellen Brown was a nice girl, but she had a temper, and there were +moments when her manners lacked rather noticeably the repose which +stamps the caste of Vere de Vere. + +'Well, what about it?' she cried. 'Can't one write to the young +gentleman one's keeping company with, without having to get permission +from every--' She paused to marshal her forces from the assault. +'Without having to get permission from every great, ugly, red-faced +copper with big feet and a broken nose in London?' + +Constable Plimmer's wrath faded into a dull unhappiness. Yes, she was +right. That was the correct description. That was how an impartial +Scotland Yard would be compelled to describe him, if ever he got lost. +'Missing. A great, ugly, red-faced copper with big feet and a broken +nose.' They would never find him otherwise. + +'Perhaps you object to my walking out with Alf? Perhaps you've got +something against him? I suppose you're jealous!' + +She threw in the last suggestion entirely in a sporting spirit. She +loved battle, and she had a feeling that this one was going to finish +far too quickly. To prolong it, she gave him this opening. There were a +dozen ways in which he might answer, each more insulting than the last; +and then, when he had finished, she could begin again. These little +encounters, she held, sharpened the wits, stimulated the circulation, +and kept one out in the open air. + +'Yes,' said Constable Plimmer. + +It was the one reply she was not expecting. For direct abuse, for +sarcasm, for dignity, for almost any speech beginning, 'What! Jealous +of you. Why--' she was prepared. But this was incredible. It disabled +her, as the wild thrust of an unskilled fencer will disable a master of +the rapier. She searched in her mind and found that she had nothing to +say. + +There was a tense moment in which she found him, looking her in the +eyes, strangely less ugly than she had supposed, and then he was gone, +rolling along on his beat with that air which all policemen must +achieve, of having no feelings at all, and--as long as it behaves +itself--no interest in the human race. + +Ellen posted her letter. She dropped it into the box thoughtfully, and +thoughtfully returned to the flat. She looked over her shoulder, but +Constable Plimmer was out of sight. + +Peaceful Battersea began to vex Constable Plimmer. To a man crossed in +love, action is the one anodyne; and Battersea gave no scope for +action. He dreamed now of the old Whitechapel days as a man dreams of +the joys of his childhood. He reflected bitterly that a fellow never +knows when he is well off in this world. Any one of those myriad drunk +and disorderlies would have been as balm to him now. He was like a man +who has run through a fortune and in poverty eats the bread of regret. +Amazedly he recollected that in those happy days he had grumbled at his +lot. He remembered confiding to a friend in the station-house, as he +rubbed with liniment the spot on his right shin where the well-shod +foot of a joyous costermonger had got home, that this sort of +thing--meaning militant costermongers--was 'a bit too thick'. A bit too +thick! Why, he would pay one to kick him now. And as for the three +loyal friends of the would-be wife-murderer who had broken his nose, if +he saw them coming round the corner he would welcome them as brothers. + +And Battersea Park Road dozed on--calm, intellectual, law-abiding. + +A friend of his told him that there had once been a murder in one of +these flats. He did not believe it. If any of these white-corpuscled +clams ever swatted a fly, it was much as they could do. The thing was +ridiculous on the face of it. If they were capable of murder, they +would have murdered Alf Brooks. + +He stood in the road, and looked up at the placid buildings +resentfully. + +'Grr-rr-rr!' he growled, and kicked the side-walk. + +And, even as he spoke, on the balcony of a second-floor flat there +appeared a woman, an elderly, sharp-faced woman, who waved her arms and +screamed, 'Policeman! Officer! Come up here! Come up here at once!' + +Up the stone stairs went Constable Plimmer at the run. His mind was +alert and questioning. Murder? Hardly murder, perhaps. If it had been +that, the woman would have said so. She did not look the sort of woman +who would be reticent about a thing like that. Well, anyway, it was +something; and Edward Plimmer had been long enough in Battersea to be +thankful for small favours. An intoxicated husband would be better than +nothing. At least he would be something that a fellow could get his +hands on to and throw about a bit. + +The sharp-faced woman was waiting for him at the door. He followed her +into the flat. + +'What is it, ma'am?' + +'Theft! Our cook has been stealing!' + +She seemed sufficiently excited about it, but Constable Plimmer felt +only depression and disappointment. A stout admirer of the sex, he +hated arresting women. Moreover, to a man in the mood to tackle +anarchists with bombs, to be confronted with petty theft is galling. +But duty was duty. He produced his notebook. + +'She is in her room. I locked her in. I know she has taken my brooch. +We have missed money. You must search her.' + +'Can't do that, ma'am. Female searcher at the station.' + +'Well, you can search her box.' + +A little, bald, nervous man in spectacles appeared as if out of a trap. +As a matter of fact, he had been there all the time, standing by the +bookcase; but he was one of those men you do not notice till they move +and speak. + +'Er--Jane.' + +'Well, Henry?' + +The little man seemed to swallow something. + +'I--I think that you may possibly be wronging Ellen. It is just +possible, as regards the money--' He smiled in a ghastly manner and +turned to the policeman. 'Er--officer, I ought to tell you that my +wife--ah--holds the purse-strings of our little home; and it is just +possible that in an absent-minded moment _I_ may have--' + +'Do you mean to tell me, Henry, that _you_ have been taking my +money?' + +'My dear, it is just possible that in the abs--' + +'How often?' + +He wavered perceptibly. Conscience was beginning to lose its grip. + +'Oh, not often.' + +'How often? More than once?' + +Conscience had shot its bolt. The little man gave up the Struggle. + +'No, no, not more than once. Certainly not more than once.' + +'You ought not to have done it at all. We will talk about that later. +It doesn't alter the fact that Ellen is a thief. I have missed money +half a dozen times. Besides that, there's the brooch. Step this way, +officer.' + +Constable Plimmer stepped that way--his face a mask. He knew who was +waiting for them behind the locked door at the end of the passage. But +it was his duty to look as if he were stuffed, and he did so. + + * * * * * + +She was sitting on her bed, dressed for the street. It was her +afternoon out, the sharp-faced woman had informed Constable Plimmer, +attributing the fact that she had discovered the loss of the brooch in +time to stop her a direct interposition of Providence. She was pale, +and there was a hunted look in her eyes. + +'You wicked girl, where is my brooch?' + +She held it out without a word. She had been holding it in her hand. + +'You see, officer!' + +'I wasn't stealing of it. I 'adn't but borrowed it. I was going to put +it back.' + +'Stuff and nonsense! Borrow it, indeed! What for?' + +'I--I wanted to look nice.' + +The woman gave a short laugh. Constable Plimmer's face was a mere block +of wood, expressionless. + +'And what about the money I've been missing? I suppose you'll say you +only borrowed that?' + +'I never took no money.' + +'Well, it's gone, and money doesn't go by itself. Take her to the +police-station, officer.' + +Constable Plimmer raised heavy eyes. + +'You make a charge, ma'am?' + +'Bless the man! Of course I make a charge. What did you think I asked +you to step in for?' + +'Will you come along, miss?' said Constable Plimmer. + + * * * * * + +Out in the street the sun shone gaily down on peaceful Battersea. It +was the hour when children walk abroad with their nurses; and from the +green depths of the Park came the sound of happy voices. A cat +stretched itself in the sunshine and eyed the two as they passed with +lazy content. + +They walked in silence. Constable Plimmer was a man with a rigid sense +of what was and what was not fitting behaviour in a policeman on duty: +he aimed always at a machine-like impersonality. There were times when +it came hard, but he did his best. He strode on, his chin up and his +eyes averted. And beside him-- + +Well, she was not crying. That was something. + +Round the corner, beautiful in light flannel, gay at both ends with a +new straw hat and the yellowest shoes in South-West London, scented, +curled, a prince among young men, stood Alf Brooks. He was feeling +piqued. When he said three o'clock, he meant three o'clock. It was now +three-fifteen, and she had not appeared. Alf Brooks swore an impatient +oath, and the thought crossed his mind, as it had sometimes crossed it +before, that Ellen Brown was not the only girl in the world. + +'Give her another five min--' + +Ellen Brown, with escort, at that moment turned the corner. + +Rage was the first emotion which the spectacle aroused in Alf Brooks. +Girls who kept a fellow waiting about while they fooled around with +policemen were no girls for him. They could understand once and for all +that he was a man who could pick and choose. + +And then an electric shock set the world dancing mistily before his +eyes. This policeman was wearing his belt; he was on duty. And Ellen's +face was not the face of a girl strolling with the Force for pleasure. + +His heart stopped, and then began to race. His cheeks flushed a dusky +crimson. His jaw fell, and a prickly warmth glowed in the parts about +his spine. + +'Goo'!' + +His fingers sought his collar. + +'Crumbs!' + +He was hot all over. + +'Goo' Lor'! She's been pinched!' + +He tugged at his collar. It was choking him. + +Alf Brooks did not show up well in the first real crisis which life had +forced upon him. That must be admitted. Later, when it was over, and he +had leisure for self-examination, he admitted it to himself. But even +then he excused himself by asking Space in a blustering manner what +else he could ha' done. And if the question did not bring much balm to +his soul at the first time of asking, it proved wonderfully soothing on +constant repetition. He repeated it at intervals for the next two days, +and by the end of that time his cure was complete. On the third morning +his 'Milk--oo--oo' had regained its customary carefree ring, and he was +feeling that he had acted in difficult circumstances in the only +possible manner. + +Consider. He was Alf Brooks, well known and respected in the +neighbourhood; a singer in the choir on Sundays; owner of a milk-walk +in the most fashionable part of Battersea; to all practical purposes a +public man. Was he to recognize, in broad daylight and in open street, +a girl who walked with a policeman because she had to, a malefactor, a +girl who had been pinched? + +Ellen, Constable Plimmer woodenly at her side, came towards him. She +was ten yards off--seven--five--three--Alf Brooks tilted his hat over +his eyes and walked past her, unseeing, a stranger. + +He hurried on. He was conscious of a curious feeling that somebody was +just going to kick him, but he dared not look round. + + * * * * * + +Constable Plimmer eyed the middle distance with an earnest gaze. His +face was redder than ever. Beneath his blue tunic strange emotions were +at work. Something seemed to be filling his throat. He tried to swallow +it. + +He stopped in his stride. The girl glanced up at him in a kind of dull, +questioning way. Their eyes met for the first time that afternoon, and +it seemed to Constable Plimmer that whatever it was that was +interfering with the inside of his throat had grown larger, and more +unmanageable. + +There was the misery of the stricken animal in her gaze. He had seen +women look like that in Whitechapel. The woman to whom, indirectly, he +owed his broken nose had looked like that. As his hand had fallen on +the collar of the man who was kicking her to death, he had seen her +eyes. They were Ellen's eyes, as she stood there now--tortured, +crushed, yet uncomplaining. + +Constable Plimmer looked at Ellen, and Ellen looked at Constable +Plimmer. Down the street some children were playing with a dog. In one +of the flats a woman began to sing. + +'Hop it,' said Constable Plimmer. + +He spoke gruffly. He found speech difficult. + +The girl started. + +'What say?' + +'Hop it. Get along. Run away.' + +'What do you mean?' + +Constable Plimmer scowled. His face was scarlet. His jaw protruded like +a granite break-water. + +'Go on,' he growled. 'Hop it. Tell him it was all a joke. I'll explain +at the station.' + +Understanding seemed to come to her slowly. + +'Do you mean I'm to go?' + +'Yes.' + +'What do you mean? You aren't going to take me to the station?' + +'No.' + +She stared at him. Then, suddenly, she broke down, + +'He wouldn't look at me. He was ashamed of me. He pretended not to see +me.' + +She leaned against the wall, her back shaking. + +'Well, run after him, and tell him it was all--' + +'No, no, no.' + +Constable Plimmer looked morosely at the side-walk. He kicked it. + +She turned. Her eyes were red, but she was no longer crying. Her chin +had a brave tilt. + +'I couldn't--not after what he did. Let's go along. I--I don't care.' + +She looked at him curiously. + +'Were you really going to have let me go?' + +Constable Plimmer nodded. He was aware of her eyes searching his face, +but he did not meet them. + +'Why?' + +He did not answer. + +'What would have happened to you, if you had have done?' + +Constable Plimmer's scowl was of the stuff of which nightmares are +made. He kicked the unoffending side-walk with an increased +viciousness. + +'Dismissed the Force,' he said curtly. + +'And sent to prison, too, I shouldn't wonder.' + +'Maybe.' + +He heard her draw a deep breath, and silence fell upon them again. The +dog down the road had stopped barking. The woman in the flat had +stopped singing. They were curiously alone. + +'Would you have done all that for me?' she said. + +'Yes.' + +'Why?' + +'Because I don't think you ever did it. Stole that money, I mean. Nor +the brooch, neither.' + +'Was that all?' + +'What do you mean--all?' + +'Was that the only reason?' + +He swung round on her, almost threateningly. + +'No,' he said hoarsely. 'No, it wasn't, and you know it wasn't. Well, +if you want it, you can have it. It was because I love you. There! Now +I've said it, and now you can go on and laugh at me as much as you +want.' + +'I'm not laughing,' she said soberly. + +'You think I'm a fool!' + +'No, I don't.' + +'I'm nothing to you. _He's_ the fellow you're stuck on.' + +She gave a little shudder. + +'No.' + +'What do you mean?' + +'I've changed.' She paused. 'I think I shall have changed more by the +time I come out.' + +'Come out?' + +'Come out of prison.' + +'You're not going to prison.' + +'Yes, I am.' + +'I won't take you.' + +'Yes, you will. Think I'm going to let you get yourself in trouble like +that, to get me out of a fix? Not much.' + +'You hop it, like a good girl.' + +'Not me.' + +He stood looking at her like a puzzled bear. + +'They can't eat me.' + +'They'll cut off all of your hair.' + +'D'you like my hair?' + +'Yes.' + +'Well, it'll grow again.' + +'Don't stand talking. Hop it.' + +'I won't. Where's the station?' + +'Next street.' + +'Well, come along, then.' + + * * * * * + +The blue glass lamp of the police-station came into sight, and for an +instant she stopped. Then she was walking on again, her chin tilted. +But her voice shook a little as she spoke. + +'Nearly there. Next stop, Battersea. All change! I say, mister--I don't +know your name.' + +'Plimmer's my name, miss. Edward Plimmer.' + +'I wonder if--I mean it'll be pretty lonely where I'm going--I wonder +if--What I mean is, it would be rather a lark, when I come out, if I +was to find a pal waiting for me to say "Hallo".' + +Constable Plimmer braced his ample feet against the stones, and turned +purple. + +'Miss,' he said, 'I'll be there, if I have to sit up all night. The +first thing you'll see when they open the doors is a great, ugly, +red-faced copper with big feet and a broken nose. And if you'll say +"Hallo" to him when he says "Hallo" to you, he'll be as pleased as +Punch and as proud as a duke. And, miss'--he clenched his hands till +the nails hurt the leathern flesh--'and, miss, there's just one thing +more I'd like to say. You'll be having a good deal of time to yourself +for awhile; you'll be able to do a good bit of thinking without anyone +to disturb you; and what I'd like you to give your mind to, if you +don't object, is just to think whether you can't forget that +narrow-chested, God-forsaken blighter who treated you so mean, and get +half-way fond of someone who knows jolly well you're the only girl +there is.' + +She looked past him at the lamp which hung, blue and forbidding, over +the station door. + +'How long'll I get?' she said. 'What will they give me? Thirty days?' + +He nodded. + +'It won't take me as long as that,' she said. 'I say, what do people +call you?--people who are fond of you, I mean?--Eddie or Ted?' + + + + +A SEA OF TROUBLES + + +Mr Meggs's mind was made up. He was going to commit suicide. + +There had been moments, in the interval which had elapsed between the +first inception of the idea and his present state of fixed +determination, when he had wavered. In these moments he had debated, +with Hamlet, the question whether it was nobler in the mind to suffer, +or to take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing end them. But +all that was over now. He was resolved. + +Mr Meggs's point, the main plank, as it were, in his suicidal platform, +was that with him it was beside the question whether or not it was +nobler to suffer in the mind. The mind hardly entered into it at all. +What he had to decide was whether it was worth while putting up any +longer with the perfectly infernal pain in his stomach. For Mr Meggs +was a martyr to indigestion. As he was also devoted to the pleasures of +the table, life had become for him one long battle, in which, whatever +happened, he always got the worst of it. + +He was sick of it. He looked back down the vista of the years, and +found therein no hope for the future. One after the other all the +patent medicines in creation had failed him. Smith's Supreme Digestive +Pellets--he had given them a more than fair trial. Blenkinsop's Liquid +Life-Giver--he had drunk enough of it to float a ship. Perkins's +Premier Pain-Preventer, strongly recommended by the sword-swallowing +lady at Barnum and Bailey's--he had wallowed in it. And so on down the +list. His interior organism had simply sneered at the lot of them. + +'Death, where is thy sting?' thought Mr Meggs, and forthwith began to +make his preparations. + +Those who have studied the matter say that the tendency to commit +suicide is greatest among those who have passed their fifty-fifth year, +and that the rate is twice as great for unoccupied males as for +occupied males. Unhappy Mr Meggs, accordingly, got it, so to speak, +with both barrels. He was fifty-six, and he was perhaps the most +unoccupied adult to be found in the length and breadth of the United +Kingdom. He toiled not, neither did he spin. Twenty years before, an +unexpected legacy had placed him in a position to indulge a natural +taste for idleness to the utmost. He was at that time, as regards his +professional life, a clerk in a rather obscure shipping firm. Out of +office hours he had a mild fondness for letters, which took the form of +meaning to read right through the hundred best books one day, but +actually contenting himself with the daily paper and an occasional +magazine. + +Such was Mr Meggs at thirty-six. The necessity for working for a living +and a salary too small to permit of self-indulgence among the more +expensive and deleterious dishes on the bill of fare had up to that +time kept his digestion within reasonable bounds. Sometimes he had +twinges; more often he had none. + +Then came the legacy, and with it Mr Meggs let himself go. He left +London and retired to his native village, where, with a French cook and +a series of secretaries to whom he dictated at long intervals +occasional paragraphs of a book on British Butterflies on which he +imagined himself to be at work, he passed the next twenty years. He +could afford to do himself well, and he did himself extremely well. +Nobody urged him to take exercise, so he took no exercise. Nobody +warned him of the perils of lobster and welsh rabbits to a man of +sedentary habits, for it was nobody's business to warn him. On the +contrary, people rather encouraged the lobster side of his character, +for he was a hospitable soul and liked to have his friends dine with +him. The result was that Nature, as is her wont, laid for him, and got +him. It seemed to Mr Meggs that he woke one morning to find himself a +chronic dyspeptic. That was one of the hardships of his position, to +his mind. The thing seemed to hit him suddenly out of a blue sky. One +moment, all appeared to be peace and joy; the next, a lively and +irritable wild-cat with red-hot claws seemed somehow to have introduced +itself into his interior. + +So Mr Meggs decided to end it. + +In this crisis of his life the old methodical habits of his youth +returned to him. A man cannot be a clerk in even an obscure firm of +shippers for a great length of time without acquiring system, and Mr +Meggs made his preparations calmly and with a forethought worthy of a +better cause. + +And so we find him, one glorious June morning, seated at his desk, +ready for the end. + +Outside, the sun beat down upon the orderly streets of the village. +Dogs dozed in the warm dust. Men who had to work went about their toil +moistly, their minds far away in shady public-houses. + +But Mr Meggs, in his study, was cool both in mind and body. + +Before him, on the desk, lay six little slips of paper. They were +bank-notes, and they represented, with the exception of a few pounds, +his entire worldly wealth. Beside them were six letters, six envelopes, +and six postage stamps. Mr Meggs surveyed them calmly. + +He would not have admitted it, but he had had a lot of fun writing +those letters. The deliberation as to who should be his heirs had +occupied him pleasantly for several days, and, indeed, had taken his +mind off his internal pains at times so thoroughly that he had +frequently surprised himself in an almost cheerful mood. Yes, he would +have denied it, but it had been great sport sitting in his arm-chair, +thinking whom he should pick out from England's teeming millions to +make happy with his money. All sorts of schemes had passed through his +mind. He had a sense of power which the mere possession of the money +had never given him. He began to understand why millionaires make freak +wills. At one time he had toyed with the idea of selecting someone at +random from the London Directory and bestowing on him all he had to +bequeath. He had only abandoned the scheme when it occurred to him that +he himself would not be in a position to witness the recipient's +stunned delight. And what was the good of starting a thing like that, +if you were not to be in at the finish? + +Sentiment succeeded whimsicality. His old friends of the office--those +were the men to benefit. What good fellows they had been! Some were +dead, but he still kept intermittently in touch with half a dozen of +them. And--an important point--he knew their present addresses. + +This point was important, because Mr Meggs had decided not to leave a +will, but to send the money direct to the beneficiaries. He knew what +wills were. Even in quite straightforward circumstances they often made +trouble. There had been some slight complication about his own legacy +twenty years ago. Somebody had contested the will, and before the thing +was satisfactorily settled the lawyers had got away with about twenty +per cent of the whole. No, no wills. If he made one, and then killed +himself, it might be upset on a plea of insanity. He knew of no +relative who might consider himself entitled to the money, but there +was the chance that some remote cousin existed; and then the comrades +of his youth might fail to collect after all. + +He declined to run the risk. Quietly and by degrees he had sold out the +stocks and shares in which his fortune was invested, and deposited the +money in his London bank. Six piles of large notes, dividing the total +into six equal parts; six letters couched in a strain of reminiscent +pathos and manly resignation; six envelopes, legibly addressed; six +postage-stamps; and that part of his preparations was complete. He +licked the stamps and placed them on the envelopes; took the notes and +inserted them in the letters; folded the letters and thrust them into +the envelopes; sealed the envelopes; and unlocking the drawer of his +desk produced a small, black, ugly-looking bottle. + +He opened the bottle and poured the contents into a medicine-glass. + +It had not been without considerable thought that Mr Meggs had decided +upon the method of his suicide. The knife, the pistol, the rope--they +had all presented their charms to him. He had further examined the +merits of drowning and of leaping to destruction from a height. + +There were flaws in each. Either they were painful, or else they were +messy. Mr Meggs had a tidy soul, and he revolted from the thought of +spoiling his figure, as he would most certainly do if he drowned +himself; or the carpet, as he would if he used the pistol; or the +pavement--and possibly some innocent pedestrian, as must infallibly +occur should he leap off the Monument. The knife was out of the +question. Instinct told him that it would hurt like the very dickens. + +No; poison was the thing. Easy to take, quick to work, and on the whole +rather agreeable than otherwise. + +Mr Meggs hid the glass behind the inkpot and rang the bell. + +'Has Miss Pillenger arrived?' he inquired of the servant. + +'She has just come, sir.' + +'Tell her that I am waiting for her here.' + +Jane Pillenger was an institution. Her official position was that of +private secretary and typist to Mr Meggs. That is to say, on the rare +occasions when Mr Meggs's conscience overcame his indolence to the +extent of forcing him to resume work on his British Butterflies, it was +to Miss Pillenger that he addressed the few rambling and incoherent +remarks which constituted his idea of a regular hard, slogging spell of +literary composition. When he sank back in his chair, speechless and +exhausted like a Marathon runner who has started his sprint a mile or +two too soon, it was Miss Pillenger's task to unscramble her shorthand +notes, type them neatly, and place them in their special drawer in the +desk. + +Miss Pillenger was a wary spinster of austere views, uncertain age, and +a deep-rooted suspicion of men--a suspicion which, to do an abused sex +justice, they had done nothing to foster. Men had always been almost +coldly correct in their dealings with Miss Pillenger. In her twenty +years of experience as a typist and secretary she had never had to +refuse with scorn and indignation so much as a box of chocolates from +any of her employers. Nevertheless, she continued to be icily on her +guard. The clenched fist of her dignity was always drawn back, ready to +swing on the first male who dared to step beyond the bounds of +professional civility. + +Such was Miss Pillenger. She was the last of a long line of unprotected +English girlhood which had been compelled by straitened circumstances +to listen for hire to the appallingly dreary nonsense which Mr Meggs +had to impart on the subject of British Butterflies. Girls had come, +and girls had gone, blondes, ex-blondes, brunettes, ex-brunettes, +near-blondes, near-brunettes; they had come buoyant, full of hope and +life, tempted by the lavish salary which Mr Meggs had found himself +after a while compelled to pay; and they had dropped off, one after +another, like exhausted bivalves, unable to endure the crushing boredom +of life in the village which had given Mr Meggs to the world. For Mr +Meggs's home-town was no City of Pleasure. Remove the Vicar's +magic-lantern and the try-your-weight machine opposite the post office, +and you practically eliminated the temptations to tread the primrose +path. The only young men in the place were silent, gaping youths, at +whom lunacy commissioners looked sharply and suspiciously when they +met. The tango was unknown, and the one-step. The only form of dance +extant--and that only at the rarest intervals--was a sort of polka not +unlike the movements of a slightly inebriated boxing kangaroo. Mr +Meggs's secretaries and typists gave the town one startled, horrified +glance, and stampeded for London like frightened ponies. + +Not so Miss Pillenger. She remained. She was a business woman, and it +was enough for her that she received a good salary. For five pounds a +week she would have undertaken a post as secretary and typist to a +Polar Expedition. For six years she had been with Mr Meggs, and +doubtless she looked forward to being with him at least six years more. + +Perhaps it was the pathos of this thought which touched Mr Meggs, as +she sailed, notebook in hand, through the doorway of the study. Here, +he told himself, was a confiding girl, all unconscious of impending +doom, relying on him as a daughter relies on her father. He was glad +that he had not forgotten Miss Pillenger when he was making his +preparations. + +He had certainly not forgotten Miss Pillenger. On his desk beside the +letters lay a little pile of notes, amounting in all to five hundred +pounds--her legacy. + +Miss Pillenger was always business-like. She sat down in her chair, +opened her notebook, moistened her pencil, and waited expectantly for +Mr Meggs to clear his throat and begin work on the butterflies. She was +surprised when, instead of frowning, as was his invariable practice +when bracing himself for composition, he bestowed upon her a sweet, +slow smile. + +All that was maidenly and defensive in Miss Pillenger leaped to arms +under that smile. It ran in and out among her nerve-centres. It had +been long in arriving, this moment of crisis, but here it undoubtedly +was at last. After twenty years an employer was going to court disaster +by trying to flirt with her. + +Mr Meggs went on smiling. You cannot classify smiles. Nothing lends +itself so much to a variety of interpretations as a smile. Mr Meggs +thought he was smiling the sad, tender smile of a man who, knowing +himself to be on the brink of the tomb, bids farewell to a faithful +employee. Miss Pillenger's view was that he was smiling like an +abandoned old rip who ought to have been ashamed of himself. + +'No, Miss Pillenger,' said Mr Meggs, 'I shall not work this morning. I +shall want you, if you will be so good, to post these six letters for +me.' + +Miss Pillenger took the letters. Mr Meggs surveyed her tenderly. + +'Miss Pillenger, you have been with me a long time now. Six years, is +it not? Six years. Well, well. I don't think I have ever made you a +little present, have I?' + +'You give me a good salary.' + +'Yes, but I want to give you something more. Six years is a long time. +I have come to regard you with a different feeling from that which the +ordinary employer feels for his secretary. You and I have worked +together for six long years. Surely I may be permitted to give you some +token of my appreciation of your fidelity.' He took the pile of notes. +'These are for you, Miss Pillenger.' + +He rose and handed them to her. He eyed her for a moment with all the +sentimentality of a man whose digestion has been out of order for over +two decades. The pathos of the situation swept him away. He bent over +Miss Pillenger, and kissed her on the forehead. + +Smiles excepted, there is nothing so hard to classify as a kiss. Mr +Meggs's notion was that he kissed Miss Pillenger much as some great +general, wounded unto death, might have kissed his mother, his sister, +or some particularly sympathetic aunt; Miss Pillenger's view, differing +substantially from this, may be outlined in her own words. + +'Ah!' she cried, as, dealing Mr Meggs's conveniently placed jaw a blow +which, had it landed an inch lower down, might have knocked him out, +she sprang to her feet. 'How dare you! I've been waiting for this Mr +Meggs. I have seen it in your eye. I have expected it. Let me tell you +that I am not at all the sort of girl with whom it is safe to behave +like that. I can protect myself. I am only a working-girl--' + +Mr Meggs, who had fallen back against the desk as a stricken pugilist +falls on the ropes, pulled himself together to protest. + +'Miss Pillenger,' he cried, aghast, 'you misunderstand me. I had no +intention--' + +'Misunderstand you? Bah! I am only a working-girl--' + +'Nothing was farther from my mind--' + +'Indeed! Nothing was farther from your mind! You give me money, you +shower your vile kisses on me, but nothing was farther from your mind +than the obvious interpretation of such behaviour!' Before coming to Mr +Meggs, Miss Pillenger had been secretary to an Indiana novelist. She +had learned style from the master. 'Now that you have gone too far, you +are frightened at what you have done. You well may be, Mr Meggs. I am +only a working-girl--' + +'Miss Pillenger, I implore you--' + +'Silence! I am only a working-girl--' + +A wave of mad fury swept over Mr Meggs. The shock of the blow and still +more of the frightful ingratitude of this horrible woman nearly made +him foam at the mouth. + +'Don't keep on saying you're only a working-girl,' he bellowed. 'You'll +drive me mad. Go. Go away from me. Get out. Go anywhere, but leave me +alone!' + +Miss Pillenger was not entirely sorry to obey the request. Mr Meggs's +sudden fury had startled and frightened her. So long as she could end +the scene victorious, she was anxious to withdraw. + +'Yes, I will go,' she said, with dignity, as she opened the door. 'Now +that you have revealed yourself in your true colours, Mr Meggs, this +house is no fit place for a wor--' + +She caught her employer's eye, and vanished hastily. + +Mr Meggs paced the room in a ferment. He had been shaken to his core by +the scene. He boiled with indignation. That his kind thoughts should +have been so misinterpreted--it was too much. Of all ungrateful worlds, +this world was the most-- + +He stopped suddenly in his stride, partly because his shin had struck a +chair, partly because an idea had struck his mind. + +Hopping madly, he added one more parallel between himself and Hamlet by +soliloquizing aloud. + +'I'll be hanged if I commit suicide,' he yelled. + +And as he spoke the words a curious peace fell on him, as on a man who +has awakened from a nightmare. He sat down at the desk. What an idiot +he had been ever to contemplate self-destruction. What could have +induced him to do it? By his own hand to remove himself, merely in +order that a pack of ungrateful brutes might wallow in his money--it +was the scheme of a perfect fool. + +He wouldn't commit suicide. Not if he knew it. He would stick on and +laugh at them. And if he did have an occasional pain inside, what of +that? Napoleon had them, and look at him. He would be blowed if he +committed suicide. + +With the fire of a new resolve lighting up his eyes, he turned to seize +the six letters and rifle them of their contents. + +They were gone. + +It took Mr Meggs perhaps thirty seconds to recollect where they had +gone to, and then it all came back to him. He had given them to the +demon Pillenger, and, if he did not overtake her and get them back, she +would mail them. + +Of all the mixed thoughts which seethed in Mr Meggs's mind at that +moment, easily the most prominent was the reflection that from his +front door to the post office was a walk of less than five minutes. + + * * * * * + +Miss Pillenger walked down the sleepy street in the June sunshine, +boiling, as Mr Meggs had done, with indignation. She, too, had been +shaken to the core. It was her intention to fulfil her duty by posting +the letters which had been entrusted to her, and then to quit for ever +the service of one who, for six years a model employer, had at last +forgotten himself and showed his true nature. + +Her meditations were interrupted by a hoarse shout in her rear; and, +turning, she perceived the model employer running rapidly towards her. +His face was scarlet, his eyes wild, and he wore no hat. + +Miss Pillenger's mind worked swiftly. She took in the situation in a +flash. Unrequited, guilty love had sapped Mr Meggs's reason, and she +was to be the victim of his fury. She had read of scores of similar +cases in the newspapers. How little she had ever imagined that she +would be the heroine of one of these dramas of passion. + +She looked for one brief instant up and down the street. Nobody was in +sight. With a loud cry she began to run. + +'Stop!' + +It was the fierce voice of her pursuer. Miss Pillenger increased to +third speed. As she did so, she had a vision of headlines. + +'Stop!' roared Mr Meggs. + +'UNREQUITED PASSION MADE THIS MAN MURDERER,' thought Miss Pillenger. + +'Stop!' + +'CRAZED WITH LOVE HE SLAYS BEAUTIFUL BLONDE,' flashed out in letters of +crimson on the back of Miss Pillenger's mind. + +'Stop!' + +'SPURNED, HE STABS HER THRICE.' + +To touch the ground at intervals of twenty yards or so--that was the +ideal she strove after. She addressed herself to it with all the +strength of her powerful mind. + +In London, New York, Paris, and other cities where life is brisk, the +spectacle of a hatless gentleman with a purple face pursuing his +secretary through the streets at a rapid gallop would, of course, have +excited little, if any, remark. But in Mr Meggs's home-town events were +of rarer occurrence. The last milestone in the history of his native +place had been the visit, two years before, of Bingley's Stupendous +Circus, which had paraded along the main street on its way to the next +town, while zealous members of its staff visited the back premises of +the houses and removed all the washing from the lines. Since then deep +peace had reigned. + +Gradually, therefore, as the chase warmed up, citizens of all shapes +and sizes began to assemble. Miss Pillenger's screams and the general +appearance of Mr Meggs gave food for thought. Having brooded over the +situation, they decided at length to take a hand, with the result that +as Mr Meggs's grasp fell upon Miss Pillenger the grasp of several of +his fellow-townsmen fell upon him. + +'Save me!' said Miss Pillenger. + +Mr Meggs pointed speechlessly to the letters, which she still grasped +in her right hand. He had taken practically no exercise for twenty +years, and the pace had told upon him. + +Constable Gooch, guardian of the town's welfare, tightened his hold on +Mr Meggs's arm, and desired explanations. + +'He--he was going to murder me,' said Miss Pillenger. + +'Kill him,' advised an austere bystander. + +'What do you mean you were going to murder the lady?' inquired +Constable Gooch. + +Mr Meggs found speech. + +'I--I--I--I only wanted those letters.' + +'What for?' + +'They're mine.' + +'You charge her with stealing 'em?' + +'He gave them me to post with his own hands,' cried Miss Pillenger. + +'I know I did, but I want them back.' + +By this time the constable, though age had to some extent dimmed his +sight, had recognized beneath the perspiration, features which, though +they were distorted, were nevertheless those of one whom he respected +as a leading citizen. + +'Why, Mr Meggs!' he said. + +This identification by one in authority calmed, if it a little +disappointed, the crowd. What it was they did not know, but, it was +apparently not a murder, and they began to drift off. + +'Why don't you give Mr Meggs his letters when he asks you, ma'am?' said +the constable. + +Miss Pillenger drew herself up haughtily. + +'Here are your letters, Mr Meggs, I hope we shall never meet again.' + +Mr Meggs nodded. That was his view, too. + +All things work together for good. The following morning Mr Meggs awoke +from a dreamless sleep with a feeling that some curious change had +taken place in him. He was abominably stiff, and to move his limbs was +pain, but down in the centre of his being there was a novel sensation +of lightness. He could have declared that he was happy. + +Wincing, he dragged himself out of bed and limped to the window. He +threw it open. It was a perfect morning. A cool breeze smote his face, +bringing with it pleasant scents and the soothing sound of God's +creatures beginning a new day. + +An astounding thought struck him. + +'Why, I feel well!' + +Then another. + +'It must be the exercise I took yesterday. By George, I'll do it +regularly.' + +He drank in the air luxuriously. Inside him, the wild-cat gave him a +sudden claw, but it was a half-hearted effort, the effort of one who +knows that he is beaten. Mr Meggs was so absorbed in his thoughts that +he did not even notice it. + +'London,' he was saying to himself. 'One of these physical culture +places.... Comparatively young man.... Put myself in their hands.... +Mild, regular exercise....' + +He limped to the bathroom. + + + + +THE MAN WITH TWO LEFT FEET + + +Students of the folk-lore of the United States of America are no doubt +familiar with the quaint old story of Clarence MacFadden. Clarence +MacFadden, it seems, was 'wishful to dance, but his feet wasn't gaited +that way. So he sought a professor and asked him his price, and said he +was willing to pay. The professor' (the legend goes on) 'looked down +with alarm at his feet and marked their enormous expanse; and he tacked +on a five to his regular price for teaching MacFadden to dance.' + +I have often been struck by the close similarity between the case of +Clarence and that of Henry Wallace Mills. One difference alone presents +itself. It would seem to have been mere vanity and ambition that +stimulated the former; whereas the motive force which drove Henry Mills +to defy Nature and attempt dancing was the purer one of love. He did it +to please his wife. Had he never gone to Ye Bonnie Briar-Bush Farm, +that popular holiday resort, and there met Minnie Hill, he would +doubtless have continued to spend in peaceful reading the hours not +given over to work at the New York bank at which he was employed as +paying-cashier. For Henry was a voracious reader. His idea of a +pleasant evening was to get back to his little flat, take off his coat, +put on his slippers, light a pipe, and go on from the point where he +had left off the night before in his perusal of the BIS-CAL volume of +the _Encyclopaedia Britannica_--making notes as he read in a stout +notebook. He read the BIS-CAL volume because, after many days, he had +finished the A-AND, AND-AUS, and the AUS-BIS. There was something +admirable--and yet a little horrible--about Henry's method of study. He +went after Learning with the cold and dispassionate relentlessness of a +stoat pursuing a rabbit. The ordinary man who is paying instalments on +the _Encyclopaedia Britannica_ is apt to get over-excited and to +skip impatiently to Volume XXVIII (VET-ZYM) to see how it all comes out +in the end. Not so Henry. His was not a frivolous mind. He intended to +read the _Encyclopaedia_ through, and he was not going to spoil +his pleasure by peeping ahead. + +It would seem to be an inexorable law of Nature that no man shall shine +at both ends. If he has a high forehead and a thirst for wisdom, his +fox-trotting (if any) shall be as the staggerings of the drunken; +while, if he is a good dancer, he is nearly always petrified from the +ears upward. No better examples of this law could have been found than +Henry Mills and his fellow-cashier, Sidney Mercer. In New York banks +paying-cashiers, like bears, tigers, lions, and other fauna, are always +shut up in a cage in pairs, and are consequently dependent on each +other for entertainment and social intercourse when business is slack. +Henry Mills and Sidney simply could not find a subject in common. +Sidney knew absolutely nothing of even such elementary things as Abana, +Aberration, Abraham, or Acrogenae; while Henry, on his side, was +scarcely aware that there had been any developments in the dance since +the polka. It was a relief to Henry when Sidney threw up his job to +join the chorus of a musical comedy, and was succeeded by a man who, +though full of limitations, could at least converse intelligently on +Bowls. + +Such, then, was Henry Wallace Mills. He was in the middle thirties, +temperate, studious, a moderate smoker, and--one would have said--a +bachelor of the bachelors, armour-plated against Cupid's well-meant but +obsolete artillery. Sometimes Sidney Mercer's successor in the teller's +cage, a sentimental young man, would broach the topic of Woman and +Marriage. He would ask Henry if he ever intended to get married. On +such occasions Henry would look at him in a manner which was a blend of +scorn, amusement, and indignation; and would reply with a single word: + +'Me!' + +It was the way he said it that impressed you. + +But Henry had yet to experience the unmanning atmosphere of a lonely +summer resort. He had only just reached the position in the bank where +he was permitted to take his annual vacation in the summer. Hitherto he +had always been released from his cage during the winter months, and +had spent his ten days of freedom at his flat, with a book in his hand +and his feet on the radiator. But the summer after Sidney Mercer's +departure they unleashed him in August. + +It was meltingly warm in the city. Something in Henry cried out for the +country. For a month before the beginning of his vacation he devoted +much of the time that should have been given to the _Encyclopaedia +Britannica_ in reading summer-resort literature. He decided at +length upon Ye Bonnie Briar-Bush Farm because the advertisements spoke +so well of it. + +Ye Bonnie Briar-Bush Farm was a rather battered frame building many +miles from anywhere. Its attractions included a Lovers' Leap, a Grotto, +golf-links--a five-hole course where the enthusiast found unusual +hazards in the shape of a number of goats tethered at intervals between +the holes--and a silvery lake, only portions of which were used as a +dumping-ground for tin cans and wooden boxes. It was all new and +strange to Henry and caused him an odd exhilaration. Something of +gaiety and reckless abandon began to creep into his veins. He had a +curious feeling that in these romantic surroundings some adventure +ought to happen to him. + +At this juncture Minnie Hill arrived. She was a small, slim girl, +thinner and paler than she should have been, with large eyes that +seemed to Henry pathetic and stirred his chivalry. He began to think a +good deal about Minnie Hill. + +And then one evening he met her on the shores of the silvery lake. He +was standing there, slapping at things that looked like mosquitoes, but +could not have been, for the advertisements expressly stated that none +were ever found in the neighbourhood of Ye Bonnie Briar-Bush Farm, when +along she came. She walked slowly, as if she were tired. A strange +thrill, half of pity, half of something else, ran through Henry. He +looked at her. She looked at him. + +'Good evening,' he said. + +They were the first words he had spoken to her. She never contributed +to the dialogue of the dining-room, and he had been too shy to seek her +out in the open. + +She said 'Good evening,' too, tying the score. And there was silence +for a moment. + +Commiseration overcame Henry's shyness. + +'You're looking tired,' he said. + +'I feel tired.' She paused. 'I overdid it in the city.' + +'It?' + +'Dancing.' + +'Oh, dancing. Did you dance much?' + +'Yes; a great deal.' + +'Ah!' + +A promising, even a dashing start. But how to continue? For the first +time Henry regretted the steady determination of his methods with the +_Encyclopaedia_. How pleasant if he could have been in a position +to talk easily of Dancing. Then memory reminded him that, though he had +not yet got up to Dancing, it was only a few weeks before that he had +been reading of the Ballet. + +'I don't dance myself,' he said, 'but I am fond of reading about it. +Did you know that the word "ballet" incorporated three distinct modern +words, "ballet", "ball", and "ballad", and that ballet-dancing was +originally accompanied by singing?' + +It hit her. It had her weak. She looked at him with awe in her eyes. +One might almost say that she gaped at Henry. + +'I hardly know anything,' she said. + +'The first descriptive ballet seen in London, England,' said Henry, +quietly, 'was "The Tavern Bilkers", which was played at Drury Lane +in--in seventeen--something.' + +'Was it?' + +'And the earliest modern ballet on record was that given by--by someone +to celebrate the marriage of the Duke of Milan in 1489.' + +There was no doubt or hesitation about the date this time. It was +grappled to his memory by hoops of steel owing to the singular +coincidence of it being also his telephone number. He gave it out with +a roll, and the girl's eyes widened. + +'What an awful lot you know!' + +'Oh, no,' said Henry, modestly. 'I read a great deal.' + +'It must be splendid to know a lot,' she said, wistfully. 'I've never +had time for reading. I've always wanted to. I think you're wonderful!' + +Henry's soul was expanding like a flower and purring like a +well-tickled cat. Never in his life had he been admired by a woman. The +sensation was intoxicating. + +Silence fell upon them. They started to walk back to the farm, warned +by the distant ringing of a bell that supper was about to materialize. +It was not a musical bell, but distance and the magic of this unusual +moment lent it charm. The sun was setting. It threw a crimson carpet +across the silvery lake. The air was very still. The creatures, +unclassified by science, who might have been mistaken for mosquitoes +had their presence been possible at Ye Bonnie Briar-Bush Farm, were +biting harder than ever. But Henry heeded them not. He did not even +slap at them. They drank their fill of his blood and went away to put +their friends on to this good thing; but for Henry they did not exist. +Strange things were happening to him. And, lying awake that night in +bed, he recognized the truth. He was in love. + +After that, for the remainder of his stay, they were always together. +They walked in the woods, they sat by the silvery lake. He poured out +the treasures of his learning for her, and she looked at him with +reverent eyes, uttering from time to time a soft 'Yes' or a musical +'Gee!' + +In due season Henry went back to New York. + +'You're dead wrong about love, Mills,' said his sentimental +fellow-cashier, shortly after his return. 'You ought to get married.' + +'I'm going to,' replied Henry, briskly. 'Week tomorrow.' + +Which stunned the other so thoroughly that he gave a customer who +entered at that moment fifteen dollars for a ten-dollar cheque, and had +to do some excited telephoning after the bank had closed. + +Henry's first year as a married man was the happiest of his life. He +had always heard this period described as the most perilous of +matrimony. He had braced himself for clashings of tastes, painful +adjustments of character, sudden and unavoidable quarrels. Nothing of +the kind happened. From the very beginning they settled down in perfect +harmony. She merged with his life as smoothly as one river joins +another. He did not even have to alter his habits. Every morning he had +his breakfast at eight, smoked a cigarette, and walked to the +Underground. At five he left the bank, and at six he arrived home, for +it was his practice to walk the first two miles of the way, breathing +deeply and regularly. Then dinner. Then the quiet evening. Sometimes +the moving-pictures, but generally the quiet evening, he reading the +_Encyclopaedia_--aloud now--Minnie darning his socks, but never +ceasing to listen. + +Each day brought the same sense of grateful amazement that he should be +so wonderfully happy, so extraordinarily peaceful. Everything was as +perfect as it could be. Minnie was looking a different girl. She had +lost her drawn look. She was filling out. + +Sometimes he would suspend his reading for a moment, and look across at +her. At first he would see only her soft hair, as she bent over her +sewing. Then, wondering at the silence, she would look up, and he would +meet her big eyes. And then Henry would gurgle with happiness, and +demand of himself, silently: + +'Can you beat it!' + +It was the anniversary of their wedding. They celebrated it in fitting +style. They dined at a crowded and exhilarating Italian restaurant on a +street off Seventh Avenue, where red wine was included in the bill, and +excitable people, probably extremely clever, sat round at small tables +and talked all together at the top of their voices. After dinner they +saw a musical comedy. And then--the great event of the night--they +went on to supper at a glittering restaurant near Times Square. + +There was something about supper at an expensive restaurant which had +always appealed to Henry's imagination. Earnest devourer as he was of +the solids of literature, he had tasted from time to time its lighter +face--those novels which begin with the hero supping in the midst of +the glittering throng and having his attention attracted to a +distinguished-looking elderly man with a grey imperial who is entering +with a girl so strikingly beautiful that the revellers turn, as she +passes, to look after her. And then, as he sits and smokes, a waiter +comes up to the hero and, with a soft '_Pardon, m'sieu!_' hands +him a note. + +The atmosphere of Geisenheimer's suggested all that sort of thing to +Henry. They had finished supper, and he was smoking a cigar--his second +that day. He leaned back in his chair and surveyed the scene. He felt +braced up, adventurous. He had that feeling, which comes to all quiet +men who like to sit at home and read, that this was the sort of +atmosphere in which he really belonged. The brightness of it all--the +dazzling lights, the music, the hubbub, in which the deep-throated +gurgle of the wine-agent surprised while drinking soup blended with the +shriller note of the chorus-girl calling to her mate--these things got +Henry. He was thirty-six next birthday, but he felt a youngish +twenty-one. + +A voice spoke at his side. Henry looked up, to perceive Sidney Mercer. + +The passage of a year, which had turned Henry into a married man, had +turned Sidney Mercer into something so magnificent that the spectacle +for a moment deprived Henry of speech. Faultless evening dress clung +with loving closeness to Sidney's lissom form. Gleaming shoes of +perfect patent leather covered his feet. His light hair was brushed +back into a smooth sleekness on which the electric lights shone like +stars on some beautiful pool. His practically chinless face beamed +amiably over a spotless collar. + +Henry wore blue serge. + +'What are you doing here, Henry, old top?' said the vision. 'I didn't +know you ever came among the bright lights.' + +His eyes wandered off to Minnie. There was admiration in them, for +Minnie was looking her prettiest. + +'Wife,' said Henry, recovering speech. And to Minnie: 'Mr Mercer. Old +friend.' + +'So you're married? Wish you luck. How's the bank?' + +Henry said the bank was doing as well as could be expected. + +'You still on the stage?' + +Mr Mercer shook his head importantly. + +'Got better job. Professional dancer at this show. Rolling in money. +Why aren't you dancing?' + +The words struck a jarring note. The lights and the music until that +moment had had a subtle psychological effect on Henry, enabling him to +hypnotize himself into a feeling that it was not inability to dance +that kept him in his seat, but that he had had so much of that sort of +thing that he really preferred to sit quietly and look on for a change. +Sidney's question changed all that. It made him face the truth. + +'I don't dance.' + +'For the love of Mike! I bet Mrs Mills does. Would you care for a turn, +Mrs Mills?' + +'No, thank you, really.' + +But remorse was now at work on Henry. He perceived that he had been +standing in the way of Minnie's pleasure. Of course she wanted to +dance. All women did. She was only refusing for his sake. + +'Nonsense, Min. Go to it.' + +Minnie looked doubtful. + +'Of course you must dance, Min. I shall be all right. I'll sit here and +smoke.' + +The next moment Minnie and Sidney were treading the complicated +measure; and simultaneously Henry ceased to be a youngish twenty-one +and was even conscious of a fleeting doubt as to whether he was really +only thirty-five. + +Boil the whole question of old age down, and what it amounts to is that +a man is young as long as he can dance without getting lumbago, and, if +he cannot dance, he is never young at all. This was the truth that +forced itself upon Henry Wallace Mills, as he sat watching his wife +moving over the floor in the arms of Sidney Mercer. Even he could see +that Minnie danced well. He thrilled at the sight of her gracefulness; +and for the first time since his marriage he became introspective. It +had never struck him before how much younger Minnie was than himself. +When she had signed the paper at the City Hall on the occasion of the +purchase of the marriage licence, she had given her age, he remembered +now, as twenty-six. It had made no impression on him at the time. Now, +however, he perceived clearly that between twenty-six and thirty-five +there was a gap of nine years; and a chill sensation came upon him of +being old and stodgy. How dull it must be for poor little Minnie to be +cooped up night after night with such an old fogy? Other men took their +wives out and gave them a good time, dancing half the night with them. +All he could do was to sit at home and read Minnie dull stuff from the +_Encyclopaedia_. What a life for the poor child! Suddenly, he felt +acutely jealous of the rubber-jointed Sidney Mercer, a man whom +hitherto he had always heartily despised. + +The music stopped. They came back to the table, Minnie with a pink glow +on her face that made her younger than ever; Sidney, the insufferable +ass, grinning and smirking and pretending to be eighteen. They looked +like a couple of children--Henry, catching sight of himself in a +mirror, was surprised to find that his hair was not white. + +Half an hour later, in the cab going home, Minnie, half asleep, was +aroused by a sudden stiffening of the arm that encircled her waist and +a sudden snort close to her ear. + +It was Henry Wallace Mills resolving that he would learn to dance. + +Being of a literary turn of mind and also economical, Henry's first +step towards his new ambition was to buy a fifty-cent book entitled +_The ABC of Modern Dancing_, by 'Tango'. It would, he felt--not +without reason--be simpler and less expensive if he should learn the +steps by the aid of this treatise than by the more customary method of +taking lessons. But quite early in the proceedings he was faced by +complications. In the first place, it was his intention to keep what he +was doing a secret from Minnie, in order to be able to give her a +pleasant surprise on her birthday, which would be coming round in a few +weeks. In the second place, _The ABC of Modern Dancing_ proved on +investigation far more complex than its title suggested. + +These two facts were the ruin of the literary method, for, while it was +possible to study the text and the plates at the bank, the home was the +only place in which he could attempt to put the instructions into +practice. You cannot move the right foot along dotted line A B and +bring the left foot round curve C D in a paying-cashier's cage in a +bank, nor, if you are at all sensitive to public opinion, on the +pavement going home. And while he was trying to do it in the parlour of +the flat one night when he imagined that Minnie was in the kitchen +cooking supper, she came in unexpectedly to ask how he wanted the steak +cooked. He explained that he had had a sudden touch of cramp, but the +incident shook his nerve. + +After this he decided that he must have lessons. + +Complications did not cease with this resolve. Indeed, they became more +acute. It was not that there was any difficulty about finding an +instructor. The papers were full of their advertisements. He selected a +Mme Gavarni because she lived in a convenient spot. Her house was in a +side street, with a station within easy reach. The real problem was +when to find time for the lessons. His life was run on such a regular +schedule that he could hardly alter so important a moment in it as the +hour of his arrival home without exciting comment. Only deceit could +provide a solution. + +'Min, dear,' he said at breakfast. + +'Yes, Henry?' + +Henry turned mauve. He had never lied to her before. + +'I'm not getting enough exercise.' + +'Why you look so well.' + +'I get a kind of heavy feeling sometimes. I think I'll put on another +mile or so to my walk on my way home. So--so I'll be back a little +later in future.' + +'Very well, dear.' + +It made him feel like a particularly low type of criminal, but, by +abandoning his walk, he was now in a position to devote an hour a day +to the lessons; and Mme Gavarni had said that that would be ample. + +'Sure, Bill,' she had said. She was a breezy old lady with a military +moustache and an unconventional manner with her clientele. 'You come to +me an hour a day, and, if you haven't two left feet, we'll make you the +pet of society in a month.' + +'Is that so?' + +'It sure is. I never had a failure yet with a pupe, except one. And +that wasn't my fault.' + +'Had he two left feet?' + +'Hadn't any feet at all. Fell off of a roof after the second lesson, +and had to have 'em cut off him. At that, I could have learned him to +tango with wooden legs, only he got kind of discouraged. Well, see you +Monday, Bill. Be good.' + +And the kindly old soul, retrieving her chewing gum from the panel of +the door where she had placed it to facilitate conversation, dismissed +him. + +And now began what, in later years, Henry unhesitatingly considered the +most miserable period of his existence. There may be times when a man +who is past his first youth feels more unhappy and ridiculous than when +he is taking a course of lessons in the modern dance, but it is not +easy to think of them. Physically, his new experience caused Henry +acute pain. Muscles whose existence he had never suspected came into +being for--apparently--the sole purpose of aching. Mentally he suffered +even more. + +This was partly due to the peculiar method of instruction in vogue at +Mme Gavarni's, and partly to the fact that, when it came to the actual +lessons, a sudden niece was produced from a back room to give them. She +was a blonde young lady with laughing blue eyes, and Henry never +clasped her trim waist without feeling a black-hearted traitor to his +absent Minnie. Conscience racked him. Add to this the sensation of +being a strange, jointless creature with abnormally large hands and +feet, and the fact that it was Mme Gavarni's custom to stand in a +corner of the room during the hour of tuition, chewing gum and making +comments, and it is not surprising that Henry became wan and thin. + +Mme Gavarni had the trying habit of endeavouring to stimulate Henry by +frequently comparing his performance and progress with that of a +cripple whom she claimed to have taught at some previous time. + +She and the niece would have spirited arguments in his presence as to +whether or not the cripple had one-stepped better after his third +lesson than Henry after his fifth. The niece said no. As well, perhaps, +but not better. Mme Gavarni said that the niece was forgetting the way +the cripple had slid his feet. The niece said yes, that was so, maybe +she was. Henry said nothing. He merely perspired. + +He made progress slowly. This could not be blamed upon his +instructress, however. She did all that one woman could to speed him +up. Sometimes she would even pursue him into the street in order to +show him on the side-walk a means of doing away with some of his +numerous errors of _technique_, the elimination of which would +help to make him definitely the cripple's superior. The misery of +embracing her indoors was as nothing to the misery of embracing her on +the sidewalk. + +Nevertheless, having paid for his course of lessons in advance, and +being a determined man, he did make progress. One day, to his surprise, +he found his feet going through the motions without any definite +exercise of will-power on his part--almost as if they were endowed with +an intelligence of their own. It was the turning-point. It filled him +with a singular pride such as he had not felt since his first rise of +salary at the bank. + +Mme Gavarni was moved to dignified praise. + +'Some speed, kid!' she observed. 'Some speed!' + +Henry blushed modestly. It was the accolade. + +Every day, as his skill at the dance became more manifest, Henry found +occasion to bless the moment when he had decided to take lessons. He +shuddered sometimes at the narrowness of his escape from disaster. +Every day now it became more apparent to him, as he watched Minnie, +that she was chafing at the monotony of her life. That fatal supper had +wrecked the peace of their little home. Or perhaps it had merely +precipitated the wreck. Sooner or later, he told himself, she was bound +to have wearied of the dullness of her lot. At any rate, dating from +shortly after that disturbing night, a lack of ease and spontaneity +seemed to creep into their relations. A blight settled on the home. + +Little by little Minnie and he were growing almost formal towards each +other. She had lost her taste for being read to in the evenings and had +developed a habit of pleading a headache and going early to bed. +Sometimes, catching her eye when she was not expecting it, he surprised +an enigmatic look in it. It was a look, however, which he was able to +read. It meant that she was bored. + +It might have been expected that this state of affairs would have +distressed Henry. It gave him, on the contrary, a pleasurable thrill. +It made him feel that it had been worth it, going through the torments +of learning to dance. The more bored she was now the greater her +delight when he revealed himself dramatically. If she had been +contented with the life which he could offer her as a non-dancer, what +was the sense of losing weight and money in order to learn the steps? +He enjoyed the silent, uneasy evenings which had supplanted those +cheery ones of the first year of their marriage. The more uncomfortable +they were now, the more they would appreciate their happiness later on. +Henry belonged to the large circle of human beings who consider that +there is acuter pleasure in being suddenly cured of toothache than in +never having toothache at all. + +He merely chuckled inwardly, therefore, when, on the morning of her +birthday, having presented her with a purse which he knew she had long +coveted, he found himself thanked in a perfunctory and mechanical way. + +'I'm glad you like it,' he said. + +Minnie looked at the purse without enthusiasm. + +'It's just what I wanted,' she said, listlessly. + +'Well, I must be going. I'll get the tickets for the theatre while I'm +in town.' + +Minnie hesitated for a moment. + +'I don't believe I want to go to the theatre much tonight, Henry.' + +'Nonsense. We must have a party on your birthday. We'll go to the +theatre and then we'll have supper at Geisenheimer's again. I may be +working after hours at the bank today, so I guess I won't come home. +I'll meet you at that Italian place at six.' + +'Very well. You'll miss your walk, then?' + +'Yes. It doesn't matter for once.' + +'No. You're still going on with your walks, then?' + +'Oh, yes, yes.' + +'Three miles every day?' + +'Never miss it. It keeps me well.' + +'Yes.' + +'Good-bye, darling.' + +'Good-bye.' + +Yes, there was a distinct chill in the atmosphere. Thank goodness, +thought Henry, as he walked to the station, it would be different +tomorrow morning. He had rather the feeling of a young knight who has +done perilous deeds in secret for his lady, and is about at last to +receive credit for them. + +Geisenheimer's was as brilliant and noisy as it had been before when +Henry reached it that night, escorting a reluctant Minnie. After a +silent dinner and a theatrical performance during which neither had +exchanged more than a word between the acts, she had wished to abandon +the idea of supper and go home. But a squad of police could not have +kept Henry from Geisenheimer's. His hour had come. He had thought of +this moment for weeks, and he visualized every detail of his big scene. +At first they would sit at their table in silent discomfort. Then +Sidney Mercer would come up, as before, to ask Minnie to dance. And +then--then--Henry would rise and, abandoning all concealment, exclaim +grandly: 'No! I am going to dance with my wife!' Stunned amazement of +Minnie, followed by wild joy. Utter rout and discomfiture of that +pin-head, Mercer. And then, when they returned to their table, he +breathing easily and regularly as a trained dancer in perfect condition +should, she tottering a little with the sudden rapture of it all, they +would sit with their heads close together and start a new life. That +was the scenario which Henry had drafted. + +It worked out--up to a certain point--as smoothly as ever it had done +in his dreams. The only hitch which he had feared--to wit, the +non-appearance of Sidney Mercer, did not occur. It would spoil the +scene a little, he had felt, if Sidney Mercer did not present himself +to play the role of foil; but he need have had no fears on this point. +Sidney had the gift, not uncommon in the chinless, smooth-baked type of +man, of being able to see a pretty girl come into the restaurant even +when his back was towards the door. They had hardly seated themselves +when he was beside their table bleating greetings. + +'Why, Henry! Always here!' + +'Wife's birthday.' + +'Many happy returns of the day, Mrs Mills. We've just time for one turn +before the waiter comes with your order. Come along.' + +The band was staggering into a fresh tune, a tune that Henry knew well. +Many a time had Mme Gavarni hammered it out of an aged and unwilling +piano in order that he might dance with her blue-eyed niece. He rose. + +'No!' he exclaimed grandly. 'I am going to dance with my wife!' + +He had not under-estimated the sensation which he had looked forward to +causing. Minnie looked at him with round eyes. Sidney Mercer was +obviously startled. + +'I thought you couldn't dance.' + +'You never can tell,' said Henry, lightly. 'It looks easy enough. +Anyway, I'll try.' + +'Henry!' cried Minnie, as he clasped her. + +He had supposed that she would say something like that, but hardly in +that kind of voice. There is a way of saying 'Henry!' which conveys +surprised admiration and remorseful devotion; but she had not said it +in that way. There had been a note of horror in her voice. Henry's was +a simple mind, and the obvious solution, that Minnie thought that he +had drunk too much red wine at the Italian restaurant, did not occur to +him. + +He was, indeed, at the moment too busy to analyse vocal inflections. +They were on the floor now, and it was beginning to creep upon him like +a chill wind that the scenario which he had mapped out was subject to +unforeseen alterations. + +At first all had been well. They had been almost alone on the floor, +and he had begun moving his feet along dotted line A B with the smooth +vim which had characterized the last few of his course of lessons. And +then, as if by magic, he was in the midst of a crowd--a mad, jigging +crowd that seemed to have no sense of direction, no ability whatever to +keep out of his way. For a moment the tuition of weeks stood by him. +Then, a shock, a stifled cry from Minnie, and the first collision had +occurred. And with that all the knowledge which he had so painfully +acquired passed from Henry's mind, leaving it an agitated blank. This +was a situation for which his slidings round an empty room had not +prepared him. Stage-fright at its worst came upon him. Somebody charged +him in the back and asked querulously where he thought he was going. As +he turned with a half-formed notion of apologizing, somebody else +rammed him from the other side. He had a momentary feeling as if he +were going down the Niagara Rapids in a barrel, and then he was lying +on the floor with Minnie on top of him. Somebody tripped over his head. + +He sat up. Somebody helped him to his feet. He was aware of Sidney +Mercer at his side. + +'Do it again,' said Sidney, all grin and sleek immaculateness. 'It went +down big, but lots of them didn't see it.' + +The place was full of demon laughter. + + * * * * * + +'Min!' said Henry. + +They were in the parlour of their little flat. Her back was towards +him, and he could not see her face. She did not answer. She preserved +the silence which she had maintained since they had left the +restaurant. Not once during the journey home had she spoken. + +The clock on the mantelpiece ticked on. Outside an Elevated train +rumbled by. Voices came from the street. + +'Min, I'm sorry.' + +Silence. + +'I thought I could do it. Oh, Lord!' Misery was in every note of +Henry's voice. 'I've been taking lessons every day since that night we +went to that place first. It's no good--I guess it's like the old woman +said. I've got two left feet, and it's no use my ever trying to do it. +I kept it secret from you, what I was doing. I wanted it to be a +wonderful surprise for you on your birthday. I knew how sick and tired +you were getting of being married to a man who never took you out, +because he couldn't dance. I thought it was up to me to learn, and give +you a good time, like other men's wives. I--' + +'Henry!' + +She had turned, and with a dull amazement he saw that her whole face +had altered. Her eyes were shining with a radiant happiness. + +'Henry! Was _that_ why you went to that house--to take dancing +lessons?' + +He stared at her without speaking. She came to him, laughing. + +'So that was why you pretended you were still doing your walks?' + +'You knew!' + +'I saw you come out of that house. I was just going to the station at +the end of the street, and I saw you. There was a girl with you, a girl +with yellow hair. You hugged her!' + +Henry licked his dry lips. + +'Min,' he said huskily. 'You won't believe it, but she was trying to +teach me the Jelly Roll.' + +She held him by the lapels of his coat. + +'Of course I believe it. I understand it all now. I thought at the time +that you were just saying good-bye to her! Oh, Henry, why ever didn't +you tell me what you were doing? Oh, yes, I know you wanted it to be a +surprise for me on my birthday, but you must have seen there was +something wrong. You must have seen that I thought something. Surely +you noticed how I've been these last weeks?' + +'I thought it was just that you were finding it dull.' + +'Dull! Here, with you!' + +'It was after you danced that night with Sidney Mercer. I thought the +whole thing out. You're so much younger than I, Min. It didn't seem +right for you to have to spend your life being read to by a fellow like +me.' + +'But I loved it!' + +'You had to dance. Every girl has to. Women can't do without it.' + +'This one can. Henry, listen! You remember how ill and worn out I was +when you met me first at that farm? Do you know why it was? It was +because I had been slaving away for years at one of those places where +you go in and pay five cents to dance with the lady instructresses. I +was a lady instructress. Henry! Just think what I went through! Every +day having to drag a million heavy men with large feet round a big +room. I tell you, you are a professional compared with some of them! +They trod on my feet and leaned their two hundred pounds on me and +nearly killed me. Now perhaps you can understand why I'm not crazy +about dancing! Believe me, Henry, the kindest thing you can do to me is +to tell me I must never dance again.' + +'You--you--' he gulped. 'Do you really mean that you can--can stand the +sort of life we're living here? You really don't find it dull?' + +'Dull!' + +She ran to the bookshelf, and came back with a large volume. + +'Read to me, Henry, dear. Read me something now. It seems ages and ages +since you used to. Read me something out of the _Encyclopaedia_!' + +Henry was looking at the book in his hand. In the midst of a joy that +almost overwhelmed him, his orderly mind was conscious of something +wrong. + +'But this is the MED-MUM volume, darling.' + +'Is it? Well, that'll be all right. Read me all about "Mum".' + +'But we're only in the CAL-CHA--' He wavered. 'Oh, well--I' he went on, +recklessly. 'I don't care. Do you?' + +'No. Sit down here, dear, and I'll sit on the floor.' + +Henry cleared his throat. + +'"Milicz, or Militsch (d. 1374), Bohemian divine, was the most +influential among those preachers and writers in Moravia and Bohemia +who, during the fourteenth century, in a certain sense paved the way +for the reforming activity of Huss."' + +He looked down. Minnie's soft hair was resting against his knee. He put +out a hand and stroked it. She turned and looked up, and he met her big +eyes. + +'Can you beat it?' said Henry, silently, to himself. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Man With Two Left Feet, by P. G. Wodehouse + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN WITH TWO LEFT FEET *** + +This file should be named 2left10.txt or 2left10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, 2left11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, 2left10a.txt + +Produced by Suzanne L. Shell, 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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