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Jerome + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + 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%;} + 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 {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +Project Gutenberg's Mrs. Korner Sins Her Mercies, by Jerome K. Jerome + +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: Mrs. Korner Sins Her Mercies + +Author: Jerome K. Jerome + +Release Date: July 27, 2008 [EBook #867] +Last Updated: March 9, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MRS. KORNER SINS HER MERCIES *** + + + + +Produced by Ron Burkey, Amy Thomte, and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + MRS. KORNER SINS HER MERCIES + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Jerome K. Jerome + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + “I do mean it,” declared Mrs. Korner, “I like a man to be a man.” + </p> + <p> + “But you would not like Christopher—I mean Mr. Korner—to be + that sort of man,” suggested her bosom friend. + </p> + <p> + “I don't mean that I should like it if he did it often. But I should like + to feel that he was able to be that sort of man.—Have you told your + master that breakfast is ready?” demanded Mrs. Korner of the domestic + staff, entering at the moment with three boiled eggs and a teapot. + </p> + <p> + “Yus, I've told 'im,” replied the staff indignantly. + </p> + <p> + The domestic staff at Acacia Villa, Ravenscourt Park, lived in a state of + indignation. It could be heard of mornings and evenings saying its prayers + indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “What did he say?” + </p> + <p> + “Said 'e'll be down the moment 'e's dressed.” + </p> + <p> + “Nobody wants him to come before,” commented Mrs. Korner. “Answered me + that he was putting on his collar when I called up to him five minutes + ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Answer yer the same thing now, if yer called up to 'im agen, I 'spect,” + was the opinion of the staff. “Was on 'is 'ands and knees when I looked + in, scooping round under the bed for 'is collar stud.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Korner paused with the teapot in her hand. “Was he talking?” + </p> + <p> + “Talkin'? Nobody there to talk to; I 'adn't got no time to stop and + chatter.” + </p> + <p> + “I mean to himself,” explained Mrs. Korner. “He—he wasn't swearing?” + There was a note of eagerness, almost of hope, in Mrs. Korner's voice. + </p> + <p> + “Swearin'! 'E! Why, 'e don't know any.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said Mrs. Korner. “That will do, Harriet; you may go.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs Korner put down the teapot with a bang. “The very girl,” said Mrs. + Korner bitterly, “the very girl despises him.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps,” suggested Miss Greene, “he had been swearing and had finished.” + </p> + <p> + But Mrs. Korner was not to be comforted. “Finished! Any other man would + have been swearing all the time.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps,” suggested the kindly bosom friend, ever the one to plead the + cause of the transgressor, “perhaps he was swearing, and she did not hear + him. You see, if he had his head well underneath the bed—” + </p> + <p> + The door opened. + </p> + <p> + “Sorry I am late,” said Mr. Korner, bursting cheerfully into the room. It + was a point with Mr. Korner always to be cheerful in the morning. “Greet + the day with a smile and it will leave you with a blessing,” was the motto + Mrs. Korner, this day a married woman of six months and three weeks + standing had heard her husband murmur before getting out of bed on + precisely two hundred and two occasions. The Motto entered largely into + the scheme of Mr. Korner's life. Written in fine copperplate upon cards + all of the same size, a choice selection counselled him each morning from + the rim of his shaving-glass. + </p> + <p> + “Did you find it?” asked Mrs. Korner. + </p> + <p> + “It is most extraordinary,” replied Mr. Korner, as he seated himself at + the breakfast-table. “I saw it go under the bed with my own eyes. Perhaps—” + </p> + <p> + “Don't ask me to look for it,” interrupted Mrs. Korner. “Crawling about on + their hands and knees, knocking their heads against iron bedsteads, would + be enough to make some people swear.” The emphasis was on the “some.” + </p> + <p> + “It is not bad training for the character,” hinted Mr. Korner, + “occasionally to force oneself to perform patiently tasks calculated—” + </p> + <p> + “If you get tied up in one of those long sentences of yours, you will + never get out in time to eat your breakfast,” was the fear of Mrs. Korner. + </p> + <p> + “I should be sorry for anything to happen to it,” remarked Mr. Korner, + “its intrinsic value may perhaps—” + </p> + <p> + “I will look for it after breakfast,” volunteered the amiable Miss Greene. + “I am good at finding things.” + </p> + <p> + “I can well believe it,” the gallant Mr. Korner assured her, as with the + handle of his spoon he peeled his egg. “From such bright eyes as yours, + few—” + </p> + <p> + “You've only got ten minutes,” his wife reminded him. “Do get on with your + breakfast.” + </p> + <p> + “I should like,” said Mr. Korner, “to finish a speech occasionally.” + </p> + <p> + “You never would,” asserted Mrs. Korner. + </p> + <p> + “I should like to try,” sighed Mr. Korner, “one of these days—” + </p> + <p> + “How did you sleep, dear? I forgot to ask you,” questioned Mrs. Korner of + the bosom friend. + </p> + <p> + “I am always restless in a strange bed the first night,” explained Miss + Greene. “I daresay, too, I was a little excited.” + </p> + <p> + “I could have wished,” said Mr. Korner, “it had been a better example of + the delightful art of the dramatist. When one goes but seldom to the + theatre—” + </p> + <p> + “One wants to enjoy oneself” interrupted Mrs. Korner. + </p> + <p> + “I really do not think,” said the bosom friend, “that I have ever laughed + so much in all my life.” + </p> + <p> + “It was amusing. I laughed myself,” admitted Mr. Korner. “At the same time + I cannot help thinking that to treat drunkenness as a theme—” + </p> + <p> + “He wasn't drunk,” argued Mrs. Korner, “he was just jovial.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear!” Mr. Korner corrected her, “he simply couldn't stand.” + </p> + <p> + “He was much more amusing than some people who can,” retorted Mrs. Korner. + </p> + <p> + “It is possible, my dear Aimee,” her husband pointed out to her, “for a + man to be amusing without being drunk; also for a man to be drunk without—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, a man is all the better,” declared Mrs. Korner, “for letting himself + go occasionally.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear—” + </p> + <p> + “You, Christopher, would be all the better for letting yourself go—occasionally.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish,” said Mr. Korner, as he passed his empty cup, “you would not say + things you do not mean. Anyone hearing you—” + </p> + <p> + “If there's one thing makes me more angry than another,” said Mrs. Korner, + “it is being told I say things that I do not mean.” + </p> + <p> + “Why say them then?” suggested Mr. Korner. + </p> + <p> + “I don't. I do—I mean I do mean them,” explained Mrs. Korner. + </p> + <p> + “You can hardly mean, my dear,” persisted her husband, “that you really + think I should be all the better for getting drunk—even + occasionally.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't say drunk; I said 'going it.'” + </p> + <p> + “But I do 'go it' in moderation,” pleaded Mr. Korner, “'Moderation in all + things,' that is my motto.” + </p> + <p> + “I know it,” returned Mrs. Korner. + </p> + <p> + “A little of everything and nothing—” this time Mr. Korner + interrupted himself. “I fear,” said Mr. Korner, rising, “we must postpone + the further discussion of this interesting topic. If you would not mind + stepping out with me into the passage, dear, there are one or two little + matters connected with the house—” + </p> + <p> + Host and hostess squeezed past the visitor and closed the door behind + them. The visitor continued eating. + </p> + <p> + “I do mean it,” repeated Mrs. Korner, for the third time, reseating + herself a minute later at the table. “I would give anything—anything,” + reiterated the lady recklessly, “to see Christopher more like the ordinary + sort of man.” + </p> + <p> + “But he has always been the sort—the sort of man he is,” her bosom + friend reminded her. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, during the engagement, of course, one expects a man to be perfect. I + didn't think he was going to keep it up.” + </p> + <p> + “He seems to me,” said Miss Greene, “a dear, good fellow. You are one of + those people who never know when they are well off.” + </p> + <p> + “I know he is a good fellow,” agreed Mrs. Korner, “and I am very fond of + him. It is just because I am fond of him that I hate feeling ashamed of + him. I want him to be a manly man, to do the things that other men do.” + </p> + <p> + “Do all the ordinary sort of men swear and get occasionally drunk?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course they do,” asserted Mrs. Korner, in a tone of authority. “One + does not want a man to be a milksop.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you ever seen a drunken man?” inquired the bosom friend, who was + nibbling sugar. + </p> + <p> + “Heaps,” replied Mrs. Korner, who was sucking marmalade off her fingers. + </p> + <p> + By which Mrs. Korner meant that some half a dozen times in her life she + had visited the play, choosing by preference the lighter form of British + drama. The first time she witnessed the real thing, which happened just + precisely a month later, long after the conversation here recorded had + been forgotten by the parties most concerned, no one could have been more + utterly astonished than was Mrs. Korner. + </p> + <p> + How it came about Mr. Korner was never able to fully satisfy himself. Mr. + Korner was not the type that serves the purpose of the temperance + lecturer. His “first glass” he had drunk more years ago than he could + recollect, and since had tasted the varied contents of many others. But + never before had Mr. Korner exceeded, nor been tempted to exceed, the + limits of his favourite virtue, moderation. + </p> + <p> + “We had one bottle of claret between us,” Mr. Korner would often recall to + his mind, “of which he drank the greater part. And then he brought out the + little green flask. He said it was made from pears—that in Peru they + kept it specially for Children's parties. Of course, that may have been + his joke; but in any case I cannot see how just one glass—I wonder + could I have taken more than one glass while he was talking.” It was a + point that worried Mr. Korner. + </p> + <p> + The “he” who had talked, possibly, to such bad effect was a distant cousin + of Mr. Korner's, one Bill Damon, chief mate of the steamship <i>La Fortuna</i>. + Until their chance meeting that afternoon in Leadenhall Street, they had + not seen each other since they were boys together. The <i>Fortuna</i> was + leaving St. Katherine's Docks early the next morning bound for South + America, and it might be years before they met again. As Mr. Damon pointed + out, Fate, by thus throwing them into each other's arms, clearly intended + they should have a cosy dinner together that very evening in the captain's + cabin of the <i>Fortuna</i>. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Korner, returning to the office, despatched to Ravenscourt Park an + express letter, announcing the strange news that he might not be home that + evening much before ten, and at half-past six, for the first time since + his marriage, directed his steps away from home and Mrs. Korner. + </p> + <p> + The two friends talked of many things. And later on they spoke of + sweethearts and of wives. Mate Damon's experiences had apparently been + wide and varied. They talked—or, rather, the mate talked, and Mr. + Korner listened—of the olive-tinted beauties of the Spanish Main, of + the dark-eyed passionate creoles, of the blond Junos of the Californian + valleys. The mate had theories concerning the care and management of + women: theories that, if the mate's word could be relied upon, had stood + the test of studied application. A new world opened out to Mr. Korner; a + world where lovely women worshipped with doglike devotion men who, though + loving them in return, knew how to be their masters. Mr. Korner, warmed + gradually from cold disapproval to bubbling appreciation, sat entranced. + Time alone set a limit to the recital of the mate's adventures. At eleven + o'clock the cook reminded them that the captain and the pilot might be + aboard at any moment. Mr. Korner, surprised at the lateness of the hour, + took a long and tender farewell of his cousin, and found St. Katherine's + Docks one of the most bewildering places out of which he had ever tried to + escape. Under a lamp-post in the Minories, it suddenly occurred to Mr. + Korner that he was an unappreciated man. Mrs. Korner never said and did + the sort of things by means of which the beauties of the Southern Main + endeavoured feebly to express their consuming passion for gentlemen + superior in no way—as far as he could see—to Mr. Korner + himself. Thinking over the sort of things Mrs. Korner did say and did do, + tears sprung into Mr. Korner's eyes. Noticing that a policeman was eyeing + him with curiosity, he dashed them aside and hurried on. Pacing the + platform of the Mansion House Station, where it is always draughty, the + thought of his wrongs returned to him with renewed force. Why was there no + trace of doglike devotion about Mrs. Korner? The fault—so he + bitterly told himself—the fault was his. “A woman loves her master; + it is her instinct,” mused Mr. Korner to himself. “Damme,” thought Mr. + Korner, “I don't believe that half her time she knows I am her master.” + </p> + <p> + “Go away,” said Mr. Korner to a youth of pasty appearance who, with open + mouth, had stopped immediately in front of him. + </p> + <p> + “I'm fond o' listening,” explained the pasty youth. + </p> + <p> + “Who's talking?” demanded Mr. Korner. + </p> + <p> + “You are,” replied the pasty youth. + </p> + <p> + It is a long journey from the city to Ravenscourt Park, but the task of + planning out the future life of Mrs. Korner and himself kept Mr. Korner + wide awake and interested. When he got out of the train the thing chiefly + troubling him was the three-quarters of a mile of muddy road stretching + between him and his determination to make things clear to Mrs. Korner then + and there. + </p> + <p> + The sight of Acacia Villa, suggesting that everybody was in bed and + asleep, served to further irritate him. A dog-like wife would have been + sitting up to see if there was anything he wanted. Mr. Korner, acting on + the advice of his own brass plate, not only knocked but also rang. As the + door did not immediately fly open, he continued to knock and ring. The + window of the best bedroom on the first floor opened. + </p> + <p> + “Is that you?” said the voice of Mrs. Korner. There was, as it happened, a + distinct suggestion of passion in Mrs. Korner's voice, but not of the + passion Mr. Korner was wishful to inspire. It made him a little more angry + than he was before. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you talk to me with your head out of the window as if this were a + gallanty show. You come down and open the door,” commanded Mr. Korner. + </p> + <p> + “Haven't you got your latchkey?” demanded Mrs. Korner. + </p> + <p> + For answer Mr. Korner attacked the door again. The window closed. The next + moment but six or seven, the door was opened with such suddenness that Mr. + Korner, still gripping the knocker, was borne inward in a flying attitude. + Mrs. Korner had descended the stairs ready with a few remarks. She had not + anticipated that Mr. Korner, usually slow of speech, could be even + readier. + </p> + <p> + “Where's my supper?” indignantly demanded Mr. Korner, still supported by + the knocker. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Korner, too astonished for words, simply stared. + </p> + <p> + “Where's my supper?” repeated Mr. Korner, by this time worked up into + genuine astonishment that it was not ready for him. “What's everybody + mean, going off to bed, when the masterororous hasn't had his supper?” + </p> + <p> + “Is anything the matter, dear?” was heard the voice of Miss Greene, + speaking from the neighbourhood of the first landing. + </p> + <p> + “Come in, Christopher,” pleaded Mrs. Korner, “please come in, and let me + shut the door.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Korner was the type of young lady fond of domineering with a not + un-graceful hauteur over those accustomed to yield readily to her; it is a + type that is easily frightened. + </p> + <p> + “I wan' grilled kinneys-on-toast,” explained Mr. Korner, exchanging the + knocker for the hat-stand, and wishing the next moment that he had not. + “Don' let's 'avareytalk about it. Unnerstan'? I dowan' any talk about it.” + </p> + <p> + “What on earth am I to do?” whispered the terrified Mrs. Korner to her + bosom friend, “there isn't a kidney in the house.” + </p> + <p> + “I should poach him a couple of eggs,” suggested the helpful bosom friend; + “put plenty of Cayenne pepper on them. Very likely he won't remember.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Korner allowed himself to be persuaded into the dining-room, which was + also the breakfast parlour and the library. The two ladies, joined by the + hastily clad staff, whose chronic indignation seemed to have vanished in + face of the first excuse for it that Acacia Villa had afforded her, made + haste to light the kitchen fire. + </p> + <p> + “I should never have believed it,” whispered the white-faced Mrs. Korner, + “never.” + </p> + <p> + “Makes yer know there's a man about the 'ouse, don't it?” chirped the + delighted staff. Mrs. Korner, for answer, boxed the girl's ears; it + relieved her feelings to a slight extent. + </p> + <p> + The staff retained its equanimity, but the operations of Mrs. Korner and + her bosom friend were retarded rather than assisted by the voice of Mr. + Korner, heard every quarter of a minute, roaring out fresh directions. + </p> + <p> + “I dare not go in alone,” said Mrs. Korner, when all things were in order + on the tray. So the bosom friend followed her, and the staff brought up + the rear. + </p> + <p> + “What's this?” frowned Mr. Korner. “I told you chops.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm so sorry, dear,” faltered Mrs. Korner, “but there weren't any in the + house.” + </p> + <p> + “In a perfectly organizedouse, such as for the future I meanterave,” + continued Mr. Korner, helping himself to beer, “there should always be + chopanteak. Unnerstanme? chopanteak!” + </p> + <p> + “I'll try and remember, dear,” said Mrs. Korner. + </p> + <p> + “Pearsterme,” said Mr. Korner, between mouthfuls, “you're norrer sort of + housekeeper I want.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll try to be, dear,” pleaded Mrs. Korner. + </p> + <p> + “Where's your books?” Mr. Korner suddenly demanded. + </p> + <p> + “My books?” repeated Mrs. Korner, in astonishment. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Korner struck the corner of the table with his fist, which made most + things in the room, including Mrs. Korner, jump. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you defy me, my girl,” said Mr. Korner. “You know whatermean, your + housekeepin' books.” + </p> + <p> + They happened to be in the drawer of the chiffonier. Mrs. Korner produced + them, and passed them to her husband with a trembling hand. Mr. Korner, + opening one by hazard, bent over it with knitted brows. + </p> + <p> + “Pearsterme, my girl, you can't add,” said Mr. Korner. + </p> + <p> + “I—I was always considered rather good at arithmetic, as a girl,” + stammered Mrs. Korner. + </p> + <p> + “What you mayabeen as a girl, and what—twenner-seven and nine?” + fiercely questioned Mr. Korner. + </p> + <p> + “Thirty-eight—seven,” commenced to blunder the terrified Mrs. + Korner. + </p> + <p> + “Know your nine tables or don't you?” thundered Mr. Korner. + </p> + <p> + “I used to,” sobbed Mrs. Korner. + </p> + <p> + “Say it,” commanded Mr. Korner. + </p> + <p> + “Nine times one are nine,” sobbed the poor little woman, “nine times two—” + </p> + <p> + “Goron,” said Mr. Korner sternly. + </p> + <p> + She went on steadily, in a low monotone, broken by stifled sobs. The + dreary rhythm of the repetition may possibly have assisted. As she + mentioned fearfully that nine times eleven were ninety-nine, Miss Greene + pointed stealthily toward the table. Mrs. Korner, glancing up fearfully, + saw that the eyes of her lord and master were closed; heard the rising + snore that issued from his head, resting between the empty beer-jug and + the cruet stand. + </p> + <p> + “He will be all right,” counselled Miss Greene. “You go to bed and lock + yourself in. Harriet and I will see to his breakfast in the morning. It + will be just as well for you to be out of the way.” + </p> + <p> + And Mrs. Korner, only too thankful for some one to tell her what to do, + obeyed in all things. + </p> + <p> + Toward seven o'clock the sunlight streaming into the room caused Mr. + Korner first to blink, then yawn, then open half an eye. + </p> + <p> + “Greet the day with a smile,” murmured Mr. Korner, sleepily, “and it will—” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Korner sat up suddenly and looked about him. This was not bed. The + fragments of a jug and glass lay scattered round his feet. To the + tablecloth an overturned cruet-stand mingled with egg gave colour. A + tingling sensation about his head called for investigation. Mr. Korner was + forced to the conclusion that somebody had been trying to make a salad of + him—somebody with an exceptionally heavy hand for mustard. A sound + directed Mr. Korner's attention to the door. + </p> + <p> + The face of Miss Greene, portentously grave, was peeping through the jar. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Korner rose. Miss Greene entered stealthily, and, closing the door, + stood with her back against it. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you know what—what you've done?” suggested Miss Greene. + </p> + <p> + She spoke in a sepulchral tone; it chilled poor Mr. Korner to the bone. + </p> + <p> + “It is beginning to come back to me, but not—not very clearly,” + admitted Mr. Korner. + </p> + <p> + “You came home drunk—very drunk,” Miss Greene informed him, “at two + o'clock in the morning. The noise you made must have awakened half the + street.” + </p> + <p> + A groan escaped from his parched lips. + </p> + <p> + “You insisted upon Aimee cooking you a hot supper.” + </p> + <p> + “I insisted!” Mr. Korner glanced down upon the table. “And—and she + did it!” + </p> + <p> + “You were very violent,” explained Miss Greene; “we were terrified at you, + all three of us.” Regarding the pathetic object in front of her, Miss + Greene found it difficult to recollect that a few hours before she really + had been frightened of it. Sense of duty alone restrained her present + inclination to laugh. + </p> + <p> + “While you sat there, eating your supper,” continued Miss Greene + remorselessly, “you made her bring you her books.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Korner had passed the stage when anything could astonish him. + </p> + <p> + “You lectured her about her housekeeping.” There was a twinkle in the eye + of Mrs. Korner's bosom friend. But lightning could have flashed before Mr. + Korner's eyes without his noticing it just then. + </p> + <p> + “You told her that she could not add, and you made her say her tables.” + </p> + <p> + “I made her—” Mr. Korner spoke in the emotionless tones of one + merely desiring information. “I made Aimee say her tables?” + </p> + <p> + “Her nine times,” nodded Miss Greene. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Korner sat down upon his chair and stared with stony eyes into the + future. + </p> + <p> + “What's to be done?” said Mr. Korner, “she'll never forgive me; I know + her. You are not chaffing me?” he cried with a momentary gleam of hope. “I + really did it?” + </p> + <p> + “You sat in that very chair where you are sitting now and ate poached + eggs, while she stood opposite to you and said her nine times table. At + the end of it, seeing you had gone to sleep yourself, I persuaded her to + go to bed. It was three o'clock, and we thought you would not mind.” Miss + Greene drew up a chair, and, with her elbows on the table, looked across + at Mr. Korner. Decidedly there was a twinkle in the eyes of Mrs. Korner's + bosom friend. + </p> + <p> + “You'll never do it again,” suggested Miss Greene. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think it possible,” cried Mr. Korner, “that she may forgive me?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I don't,” replied Miss Greene. At which Mr. Korner's face fell back + to zero. “I think the best way out will be for you to forgive her.” + </p> + <p> + The idea did not even amuse him. Miss Greene glanced round to satisfy + herself that the door was still closed, and listened a moment to assure + herself of the silence. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you remember,” Miss Greene took the extra precaution to whisper it, + “the talk we had at breakfast-time the first morning of my visit, when + Aimee said you would be all the better for 'going it' occasionally?” + </p> + <p> + Yes, slowly it came back to Mr. Korner. But she only said “going it,” Mr. + Korner recollected to his dismay. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you've been 'going it,'” persisted Miss Greene. “Besides, she did + not mean 'going it.' She meant the real thing, only she did not like to + say the word. We talked about it after you had gone. She said she would + give anything to see you more like the ordinary man. And that is her idea + of the ordinary man.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Korner's sluggishness of comprehension irritated Miss Greene. She + leaned across the table and shook him. “Don't you understand? You have + done it on purpose to teach her a lesson. It is she who has got to ask you + to forgive her.” + </p> + <p> + “You think—?” + </p> + <p> + “I think, if you manage it properly, it will be the best day's work you + have ever done. Get out of the house before she wakes. I shall say nothing + to her. Indeed, I shall not have the time; I must catch the ten o'clock + from Paddington. When you come home this evening, you talk first; that's + what you've got to do.” And Mr. Korner, in his excitement, kissed the + bosom friend before he knew what he had done. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Korner sat waiting for her husband that evening in the drawing-room. + She was dressed as for a journey, and about the corners of her mouth were + lines familiar to Christopher, the sight of which sent his heart into his + boots. Fortunately, he recovered himself in time to greet her with a + smile. It was not the smile he had been rehearsing half the day, but that + it was a smile of any sort astonished the words away from Mrs. Korner's + lips, and gave him the inestimable advantage of first speech. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Mr. Korner cheerily, “and how did you like it?” + </p> + <p> + For the moment Mrs. Korner feared her husband's new complaint had already + reached the chronic stage, but his still smiling face reassured her—to + that extent at all events. + </p> + <p> + “When would you like me to 'go it' again? Oh, come,” continued Mr. Korner + in response to his wife's bewilderment, “you surely have not forgotten the + talk we had at breakfast-time—the first morning of Mildred's visit. + You hinted how much more attractive I should be for occasionally 'letting + myself go!'” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Korner, watching intently, perceived that upon Mrs. Korner + recollection was slowly forcing itself. + </p> + <p> + “I was unable to oblige you before,” explained Mr. Korner, “having to keep + my head clear for business, and not knowing what the effect upon one might + be. Yesterday I did my best, and I hope you are pleased with me. Though, + if you could see your way to being content—just for the present and + until I get more used to it—with a similar performance not oftener + than once a fortnight, say, I should be grateful,” added Mr. Korner. + </p> + <p> + “You mean—” said Mrs. Korner, rising. + </p> + <p> + “I mean, my dear,” said Mr. Korner, “that almost from the day of our + marriage you have made it clear that you regard me as a milksop. You have + got your notion of men from silly books and sillier plays, and your + trouble is that I am not like them. Well, I've shown you that, if you + insist upon it, I can be like them.” + </p> + <p> + “But you weren't,” argued Mrs. Korner, “not a bit like them.” + </p> + <p> + “I did my best,” repeated Mr. Korner; “we are not all made alike. That was + <i>my</i> drunk.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't say 'drunk.'” + </p> + <p> + “But you meant it,” interrupted Mr. Korner. “We were talking about drunken + men. The man in the play was drunk. You thought him amusing.” + </p> + <p> + “He was amusing,” persisted Mrs. Korner, now in tears. “I meant that sort + of drunk.” + </p> + <p> + “His wife,” Mr. Korner reminded her, “didn't find him amusing. In the + third act she was threatening to return home to her mother, which, if I + may judge from finding you here with all your clothes on, is also the idea + that has occurred to you.” + </p> + <p> + “But you—you were so awful,” whimpered Mrs. Korner. + </p> + <p> + “What did I do?” questioned Mr. Korner. + </p> + <p> + “You came hammering at the door—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, I remember that. I wanted my supper, and you poached me a + couple of eggs. What happened after that?” + </p> + <p> + The recollection of that crowning indignity lent to her voice the true + note of tragedy. + </p> + <p> + “You made me say my tables—my nine times!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Korner looked at Mrs. Korner, and Mrs. Korner looked at Mr. Korner, + and for a while there was silence. + </p> + <p> + “Were you—were you really a little bit on,” faltered Mrs. Korner, + “or only pretending?” + </p> + <p> + “Really,” confessed Mr. Korner. “For the first time in my life. If you are + content, for the last time also.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry,” said Mrs. Korner, “I have been very silly. Please forgive + me.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Mrs. Korner Sins Her Mercies, by Jerome K. Jerome + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MRS. 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