_Mated by a Waiter._
CHAPTER I.
BLACK AND WHITE.
Jones! I mention him here because he is the first and last word of thestory. It is the story of what might be called a game of chess betweenme and him; for I never made a move, but he made a counter-move. Youmust remember though that he played, so to speak, blindfold, while Istarted the game, not with the view of mating him, but merely for thefun of playing.
There was to be a Review of the Fleet, and the inhabitants of Ryderejoiced, as befitted sons of the sea. Although many of them would bereduced to living in their cellars, like their own black-beetles, sothat they might harbour the patriotic immigrant, they sacrificedthemselves ungrudgingly. No, it was not the natives who grumbled.
My friends, Jack Woolwich and Merton Towers, being in the CivilService, naturally desired to pay a compliment to the less civildepartment of State, and picked their month's holiday so as to includethe Review. They took care to let the Review come out at the posteriorextremity of the holiday, so as to find them quite well and in theenjoyment of excellent quarters at economical rates. They selected acomfortable but unfashionable hotel, at moderate but uninclusiveterms, and joyously stretched their free limbs unswaddled by red-tape.Soon London became a forgotten nightmare.
They wrote to me irregularly, tantalising me unwittingly with glimpsesof buoyant wave and sunny pasture. It fretted me to be immured in thestone-prison of the metropolis, and my friends' letters did butsprinkle sea-salt on my wounds; for I was working up a medicalpractice in the northern district, and my absence might provefatal--not so much, perhaps, to my patients as to my prospects. I wasbeginning to be recognised as a specialist in throats and eyes, and Iinvariably sent my clients' ears to my old hospital chum, Robins,which increased the respect of the neighbourhood for my professionalpowers. Your general practitioner is a suspiciously omniscient person,and it is far sager to know less and to charge more.
"My dear Ted," wrote the Woolwich Infant (of course we could notescape calling Jack Woolwich thus), "I do wish we had you here. Suchlarks! We've got the most comical cuss of a waiter you ever saw. Ifeel sure he would appeal irresistibly to your sense of humour. Heseems to boss the whole establishment. His name is Jones; and when youhave known him a day you feel that he is the only Jones--the onlyJones possible. He is a middle-aged man, with a slight stoop and acat-like crawl. His face is large and flabby, ornamented withmutton-chop whiskers, streaked as with the silver of half acentury of tips. He is always at your elbow--a mercenaryMephistopheles--suggesting drives or sails, and recommending certainyachts, boats, and carriages with insinuative irresistibleness. He hasthe tenacity of an army of able-bodied leeches, and if you do not takehis advice he spoils your day. You may shake him off by fleeing intothe interior of the Isle, or plunging into the sea; but you cannot bealways trotting about or bathing; and at mealtimes he waits upon thosewho have disregarded his recommendations. He has a hopelesslycorruptive effect on the soul, and I, who have always prided myself onmy immaculate moral get-up, was driven to desperate lying withintwenty-four hours of my arrival. I told him how much I had enjoyed thecarriage-drive he had counselled, or the sail he had sanctioned by hisapproval; and, in return, he regaled me with titbits at our _tabled'hote_ dinner. But the next day he followed me about with large,reproachful eyes, in grieved silence. I saw that he knew all; and Idragged myself along with my tail between my legs, miserably askingmyself how I could regain his respect.
"THE INFANT."]
"Wherever I turned I saw nothing but those dilated orbs of rebuke. Itook refuge in my bedroom, but he glided in to give me a bad Frenchhalfpenny the chambermaid had picked up under my bed; and the impliedcontrast to be read in those eyes, between the honesty of theestablishment and my own, was more than I could bear. I flew into apassion--the last resource of detected guilt--and irrelevantly toldhim I would choose my own amusements, and that I had not come down toincrease his commissions.
"Ted, till my dying day I shall not forget the dumb martyrdom of thoseeyes! When he was sufficiently recovered to speak, he swore, in avoice broken by emotion, that he would scorn taking commissions fromthe quarters I imagined. Ashamed of my unjust suspicions, Iapologised, and went out that afternoon alone for a trip in the_Mayblossom_, and was violently sick. Merton funked it because theweather was rough, and had a lucky escape; but he had to meet Jones inthe evening.
"Merton's theory is, that Jones doesn't get commissions, for thesimple reason that the wagonettes and broughams and bath-chairs andboats and yachts he recommends all belong to him, and that the nominalproprietors are men of straw, stuffed by the only Jones. This theoryis, I must admit, borne out by the evidence of O'Rafferty, a jolly oldIrishman, whose wife died here early in the year, and who has beenmaking holiday ever since. He says that Jones had a week off in Marchwhen there was hardly anybody in the hotel, and he was to be seendriving a wagonette between Ryde and Cowes daily. And, indeed, thereis something curiously provincial and plebeian about Jones's mindwhich suggests a man who has risen from the cab-ranks.
"His ideas of tips are delightfully democratic, and you cannot insulthim even with twopence. He handles a bottle of cheap claret asreverently as a Russian the image of his saint, and he has never gotover his awe of champagne. To drink Monopole at dinner is to mount apedestal of dignity, and I completely recovered his esteem bydrowning the memories of that awful marine experience in a pint of'dry.' When he draws the champagne cork he has a sacerdotal air, andhe pours out the foaming liquid with the obsequiousness of anarchbishop placing on his sovereign's head the crown he may never hopeto do more than touch. But perhaps the best proof of the humbleness ofhis origin is his veneration for the aristocracy. An average waiteris, from the nature of his occupation, liable to be brought intocontact with the bluest of blood, and to have his undiminishedreverence for it tempered with a good-natured perception of mortalfoibles. But Jones's attitude is one of awestruck unquestioningworship. He speaks of a lord with bated breath, and he dare not, evenin conversation, ascend to a duke.
"THE ONLY JONES."]
"It would seem that this is not one of the hotels which thearistocrat's fancy turns to thoughts of; for apparently only one lordhas ever stayed here, judging by the frequency with which Joneswhispers his name. Though some of us seem to have a beastly lot ofmoney, and to do all the year round what Merton and I can only indulgein for a month, we are a rather plebeian company I fear, and it issimply overwhelming the way Jones rams Lord Porchester down ourthroats.
"'When his lordship stayed here he partic'larly admired the view fromthat there window.' 'His lordship wouldn't drink anything but PommeryGreen-oh; he used to swallow it by tumblersful, as you or I mightrum-and-water, sir.' 'Ah, sir! Lord Porchester hired the _Mayblossom_all to himself, and often said: "By Jove! she's like a sea-gull. Shealmost comes near my own little beauty. I think I shall have to buyher, by gad I shall! and let them race each other."'
"And the fellow is such an inveterate gossip that everybody here knowseverybody else's business. The proprietor is a quiet, gentlemanlyfellow, and is the only person in the place who keeps his presence ofmind in the presence of Jones, and is not in mental subjugation to theflabby, florid, crawling boss of the rest of the show.
"You may laugh, but I warrant you wouldn't be here a day before Joneswould get the upper hand of you. On the outside, of course, he is asfixedly deferential as if every moment were to be your last, and thecab were waiting to take you to the Station; but inwardly, you feelhe is wound about you like a boa-constrictor. I do so long to see himswathing you in his coils! Won't you come down, and give your patientsa chance?"
"My dear Jack," I wrote back to the Infant, "I am so sorry that youare having bad weather. You don't say so, but when a man covers sixsheets of writing-paper I know what it means. I must say you havegiven me an itching to try my strength with the only Jones; but, alas!this is a musical neighbourhood, and there is a run on sore throats,so I must be content to enjoy my Jones by deputy. Is there any otheratt
raction about the shanty?"
Merton Towers took up the running:
"Barring ourselves and Jones," he wrote, "and perhaps O'Rafferty,there isn't a decent human being in the hotel. The ladies are eitherold and ugly, or devoted to their husbands. The only ones worthtalking to are in the honeymoon stage. But Jones is worth a hundredpetticoats: he is tremendous fun. We've got a splendid spree on now. Ithink the Infant told you that Jones has not enjoyed that actualcontact with the 'hupper suckles' which his simple snobbish soul sothoroughly deserves; and that, in spite of the eternal LordPorchester, his acquaintance is less with the _beau monde_ than withthe Bow and Bromley _monde_. Since the Infant and I discovered this wehave been putting on the grand air. Unfortunately, it was too late toclaim titles; but we have managed to convey the impression that,although commoners and plain misters, we have yet had the privilege ofrubbing against the purple. We have casually and carelessly droppedhints of aristocratic acquaintances, and Jones has bowed down andpicked them up reverently.
"The other day, when he brought us our Chartreuse after dinner, theInfant said: 'Ah! I suppose you haven't got Damtidam in stock?' Theonly Jones stared awestruck. 'Of course not! How can it possibly havepenetrated to these parts yet?' I struck in with superciliousreproach. 'Damtidam! What is that, sir?' faltered Jones. 'What! youdon't mean to say you haven't even heard of it?' cried the Infant inamaze. Jones looked miserable and apologetic. 'It's the latestliqueur,' I explained graciously. 'Awfully expensive; made by a newbrotherhood of Anchorites in Dalmatia, who have secluded themselvesfrom the world in order to concoct it. They only serve thearistocracy; but, of course, now and then a millionaire manages to gethold of a bottle. Lord Everett made me a present of some a couple ofmonths ago, but I use it very, very sparingly, and I daresay theflask's at least half-full. I have it in my portmanteau.' 'How does ittaste, sir?' enquired Jones, in a hushed, solemn whisper. 'Damtidam isnot the sort of thing that would please the uncultured palate,' Ireplied haughtily. 'It's what they call an acquired taste, ain't it,sir?' he asked wistfully. 'Would you like to have a drop?' I saidaffably. 'Oh, Towers!' cried the Infant, 'what would Lord Everettsay?' 'Well, but how is Lord Everett to know?' I responded. 'Joneswill never let on.' 'His lordship shall never hear a word from mylips,' Jones protested gratefully. 'But you won't like it at first. Toreally enjoy Damtidam, you'll have to have several goes at it. Haveyou got a little phial?' Jones ran and fetched the phial, and I fishedout of my portmanteau the bottle of dyspepsia mixture you gave us andfilled Jones's phial. I watched him glide into the garden and put thephial to his lips with a heavenly expression, through which somesuggestions of purgatory subsequently flitted. That was yesterday.
"'Well, Jones, how do you like Damtidam?' I enquired genially thismorning. 'Very 'igh-class, very 'igh-class in its taste, thank you,sir,' he replied. 'It's 'ardly for the likes o' me, I'm afraid; but asyou've been good enough to give me some, I'll make so bold as to enjoyit. I 'ad a second sip at it this morning, and I liked it a dealbetter than yesterday. It requires time to get the taste, sir; but,depend upon it, I'll do my best to acquire it.' 'I wish you success!'I cried. 'Once you get used to it, it's simply delicious. Why, I'dnever travel without a bottle of it. I often take it in the middle ofthe night. You finish that phial, Jones; never mind the cost. I'mwriting to Lord Everett to-day, and I'll drop him a broad hint that Ishould like another.'
"Eureka! As I write this a glorious idea has occurred to me. I _am_writing to you to-day, and you _are_ the giver of the Damtidam,_alias_ dyspepsia mixture. Oh, if you could only come down and pose asLord Everett! What larks we should have! Do, old boy; it'll be thegreatest spree we've ever had. Don't say 'no.' You want a change, youknow you do; or you'll be on the sick-list yourself soon. Come, ifonly for a week! Surely you can find a chum to take your practice. Howabout Robins? He can't be all ears. I daresay he's equal to lookingafter your throats and eyes for a week. The Infant joins with me, andsays that if you don't come he'll kill off Jones, and deprive you forever of the pleasure of knowing him.
"I remain,
"Yours till Jones's death,
"MERTON TOWERS.
"P.S.--When you come, bring a dozen of Damtidam."
The prospect of becoming Lord Everett flattered and tickled me, andwas a daily temptation to me in my dreary drudgery. To the appeal ofthe pictured visions of woods and waters was added the alluring figureof Jones, standing a little bent amid the smiling landscape, acquiringa taste for Damtidam; his pasty face kneaded ecstatically, his hand onthe pit of his stomach. At last I could stand it no longer, I went tosee Robins, and I wrote to my friends:
"Jones wins! Expect me about ten days before the Review, so that wecan return to town together.
"When I first asked Robins to take my eyes, he was inclined to dashthem; but the moment I let him into the plot against Jones, he agreedto do all my work on condition of being informed of the progress ofthe campaign.
"I shan't tell anyone I'm leaving town, and Robins will forward myletters in an envelope addressed to Lord Everett.
"P.S.--I am bottling a special brand of Damtidam."
CHAPTER II.
A DIFFICULT OPENING.
The proudest moment of Jones's life was probably when he assisted meto alight from the carriage I had ordered at the station. I wore alight duster, a straw hat, and goloshes (among other things), togetherwith the air of having come over in the same steamboat as theConqueror. I may as well mention here that I am tall, almost as tallas the Woolwich Infant, who frequently stands six foot two on my petcorn (Towers, by the way, is a short squat man, whose delusion that heis handsome can be read plainly upon his face). My features, like myhabits, are regular. By complexion I belong to the fair sex; but thereis a masculine vigour about my physique and my language which redeemsme from effeminateness. I do not mention my tawny moustache, becausethat is not an exclusively male trait in these days of women's rights.
"Good morning, my lord!" said Jones, his obeisance so low and hisvoice so loud that I had to give the driver half-a-crown.
I nodded almost imperceptibly, knowing that the surest way to impressJones with my breeding was to display no trace of it. I strolledlanguidly into the hall, deferentially followed by the Infant andMerton Towers, leaving Jones distracted between the desire to handlemy luggage and to show me my room.
"Hexcuse me, my lord," said Jones, fluttered. "Jane, run for themaster."
"Excuse _me_, my lord," said the Infant; "I'll run up and wash forlunch. See you in a moment. Come along, Merton. It's so beastlyhigh-up. When are you going to get a lift, Jones?"
"In a moment, sir; in a moment!" replied Jones automatically.
He seemed half-dazed.
The quiet, gentlemanly young proprietor, who appeared to have beendisturbed in his studies, for he held a volume of Dickens in his hand,conducted me to a gorgeously furnished bedroom on the first floorfacing the sea.
"It's the best we can do for your lordship," he said apologetically;"but with the Review so near--"
I waved my hand impatiently, wishing he could have done worse for me.In town I had been too busy to realise the situation in detail; butnow it began to dawn upon me that it was going to be an expensivejoke. Besides, I was separated from my friends, who were corridorsaway and flights higher, and convivial meetings at midnight wouldmean disagreeable stockinged wanderings for somebody--a mere shadow ofa trifle, no doubt, but little things like that worry more than theylook. I was afraid to ask the price of this swell bedroom, and I beganto comprehend the meaning of _noblesse oblige_.
"The sitting-room adjoins," said the hotel-keeper, suddenly opening adoor and ushering me into a magnificent chamber, with a lofty ceilingand a dado. The furniture was plush-covered and suggestive of footmen."I presume you will not be taking your meals in public?"
"H'm! H'm!" I muttered, tugging at my moustache. Then, struck by abright idea, I said: "What do Mr. Woolwich and Mr. Towers do?"
"They join the _table d'hote_, your lordship," said the proprietor.
"They didn't require a sitting-room they said, as they should bealmost entirely in the open air."
"Oh! well, I could hardly leave my friends," I said reflectively; "Isuppose I shall have to join them at the _table d'hote_."
"I daresay they would like to have your lordship with them," said theproprietor, with a faint, flattering smile.
I smiled internally at my cunning in getting out of the sitting-room.
"It's an awful bore," I yawned; "but I'm afraid they'd be annoyed if Iate up here alone, so--"
"You'll invite them up here for all meals? Yes, my lord," said Jonesat my elbow.
He had sidled up with his cat-like crawl. Through the open door ofcommunication I saw he had deposited my boxes in the gorgeous bedroom.There was a moment of tense silence, in which I struggled desperatelyfor a response. The brazen shudder of a gong vibrated through thehouse.
"Is that lunch?" I asked in relief, making a step towards the door.
"Yes, my lord," said Jones; "but not your lordship's lunch. It will belaid here immediately, my lord. I will go at once and convey yourinvitation to your lordship's friends."
He hastened from the room, leaving me dumbfounded. I did not enjoyJones as much as I had anticipated. In a moment a pretty parlour-maidarrived to lay the cloth. I became conscious that I was hungry andthirsty and travel-stained, and I determined to let things slide tillafter lunch, when I could easily set them right. The sunshine wasflooding the room, and the sea was a dance of diamonds. The sight ofthe prandial preparations softened me. I retired to my beautifulbedroom and plunged my face into a basin of water.
There was a knock at the door.
"Come in!" I spluttered.
"Your hot water, my lord!" It was Jones.
"I've got into enough already," I thought. "Don't want it," I growledperemptorily; "I always wash in cold."
I would have my way in small things, I resolved, if I could not haveit in great.
"Certainly, your lordship; this is only for shaving."
My cheeks grew hot beneath the fingers washing them. I remembered thatI had overslept myself that morning, and neglected shaving lest Ishould miss my train. There were but a few microscopic hairs, yet Ifelt at once I had not the face to meet Jones at lunch.
"Thank you!" I said savagely.
When I had wiped my eyes I found he was still in the room, bent inmeek adoration.
"What in the devil do you want now?" I thundered.
His eyes lit up with rapture. It was as though I had made oath I was anobleman and removed his last doubt.
"Pommery Green-oh or Hideseek, my lord?"
I cursed silently. I am of an easy-going disposition, and in my mostpenurious student days, had to spend twenty-five per cent more on mymodest lunch whenever the waiter said: "Stout or bitter, sir?" But thepresent alternative was far more terrible. I was on the point ofsaying I was a teetotaller, when I remembered that would shut off mynocturnal whisky-and-water, and condemn me to goody-goody beverages atmeals. I remembered, too, that Jones intended the champagne as muchfor my friends as myself, and that lords are proverbiallydisassociated from temperance. Oh! it was horrible that thisoleaginous snob should rob a poor man of his beer! Perhaps I couldescape with claret. In my agitation I commenced lathering my chin andreturned no answer at all. The voice of Jones came at last, chargedwith deeper respect, but inevitable as the knell of doom.
"Did you say Pommery Green-oh! my lord?"
"No!" I yelled defiantly.
"Thank you, my lord. Lord Porchester was very partial to ourHideseek--when he was here. We have an excellent year."
"I wish you had twelve months," I thought furiously. Then when thedoor closed upon him, I ground my razor savagely and muttered: "Allright! I'll take it out of you in Damtidam."
I heard the bustle of my friends arriving to lunch, and I shavedmyself hastily. Then slipping on my coat and dabbing a bit ofsticking-plaster on my chin, I threw open the door violently; for Iwas not going to let those two fellows off an exhibition of slang.They should have thought out the plot more fully; have hired me amoderate bedroom in advance, and not have let me in for the luxuriesof Lucullus. It was a cowardly desertion, their leaving me at thecritical moment, and they should learn what I thought of it.
"You ruffians!" I began; but the words died on my lips. Jones waswaiting at table.
It ought to have been a delicious lunch: broiled chickens andapple-tart; the cool breeze coming through the open window, the seaand the champagne sparkling. But I, who was hungriest, enjoyed itleast; Jones, who ate nothing, enjoyed it most. The Infant and MertonTowers simply overflowed with high spirits, keeping up a running fireof aristocratic allusions, which galled me beyond endurance.
"By the way, how is the dowager-duchess?" wound up the Infant.
"D---- the dowager-duchess!" I roared, losing the remains of mytemper.
Jones grew radiant, and the Infant winked irritating approval of mynatural touches. Such contempt for duchesses could only be bred offamiliarity. At last I could contain myself no longer; I must eitherexplode or have a fit. I sent Jones for cigarettes.
Directly the door closed those two men turned upon me.
"I say, old fellow," exclaimed Towers reproachfully, "isn't this justgoing it a little too far?"
"What in creation made you take these howling apartments?" asked theInfant. "Review time, too! They've been saving up these rooms,foreseeing there would be some tip-top swells crowded out of thefashionable hotels. Why, there's a cosy little crib next to ours Imade sure you'd have."
"Well, I call this cool!" I gasped.
"So it is," said the Infant; "I admit that. It's the coolest room inthe house. It'll be real jolly up here; and if you can stand theracket I'm sure I'm not the chap to grumble."
"You must have been doing beastly well, old man," Towers put inenviously; "to feed us like critics on chicken and champagne. Isuppose they'll be opening new cemeteries down your way presently."
"Look here, my fine fellows," I said ferociously, "don't you forgetthat there's plenty of room still in Ryde Churchyard."
"Hallo, Ted!" cried the Infant, looking up with ingenuous surprise, "Ithought you came down here on a holiday?"
"Stash that!" I said. "It's you who've got me into this hole, and youknow it."
"Hole!" cried Towers, looking round the room in amaze. "He calls thisa hole! Hang it all, my boy, are you a millionaire? I call this goodenough for a lord."
"Yes; but as I'm neither," I said grimly, "I should like you tounderstand that I'm not going to pay for this spread."
"What!" gasped the Infant. "Invite a man to lunch, and expect him tosquare the bill?"
"I never invited you!" I said indignantly.
"Who then?" said Towers sternly.
"Jones!" I answered.
"Yes, my lord! Sorry to have kept your lordship waiting; but I thinkyou will find these cigarettes to your liking. I haven't been at thisbox since Lord Porchester was here, and it got mislaid."
"Take them away!" I roared. "They're Egyptians!"
"Yes, my lord!" said Jones, in delight.
He glided proudly from the room.
"'Jones invited us?'" pursued the Infant. "What rot! As if Joneswould dare do anything you hadn't told him. _We_ are his slaves. Butyou? Why, he hangs on your words!"
"D---- him! I should like to see him hanging on something higher!" Icried.
"Yes, your language _is_ low," admitted the Infant. "But, seriously,what's all the row about? I thought this champagne lunch was a bit ofrealism, just to start off with."
I explained briefly how Jones had coiled himself around me, even asthey had described. The dado echoed their ribald laughter.
"Oh, well," said the Infant, "it's only right you should give a lunchthe day you come into a peerage. It's really too much to expect us topay scot, when there was a beautiful lunch of cold beef and pickleswaiting for us in the dining-room, and included in our terms per week.We aren't going to pay for two lunches."
"I don't mi
nd the lunch," I said, smiling, my sense of humourreturning now that I had poured forth my grievance. "I'd gladly giveyou chaps a lunch any day, and I'm pleased you enjoyed it so much.But, for the rest, I'm going to run this joke by syndicate, or not atall. I only came down with a tenner."
"A pound a day!" said Towers, "that ought to be enough."
"Why, there's a pound gone bang over this lunch already!" I retorted.
"And then there's the apartments," put in the Infant roguishly. "Iwonder what they'll tot up to?"
"Jones alone knows," I groaned.
He came in--a veritable devil--while his name was on my lips, with anew box of cigarettes.
"Clear away!" I said briefly.
He cleared away, and we breathed freely. We leaned back in theplush-covered easy-chairs, sending rings of fragrant smoke towards theblue horizon, and I felt more able to face the situation calmly.
"I daresay we can lend you five quid between us," said Towers.
"What's the good of a loan to an honest man?" I asked. "Can't we workthe joke without such a lot of capital? The first thing is to get outof these rooms, and into that cosy little crib near you. I can say Iyearn for your society."
"But have you the courage to look Jones in the face and tell himthat?" queried Towers dubiously.
I hesitated. I felt instinctively that Jones would be dreadfullyshocked if I changed my palatial apartments for a cheap bedroom; thatit would be better if some one else broke the news.
"Oh, the Infant'll explain," I said lightly.
"Nothing of the sort," said the Infant; "it won't wash now. Besides,they'd make you shell out in any case. They'd pretend they turned lotsof applicants away this morning, because the rooms were let. No, keepthe bedroom, and we'll go shares in this sitting-room. It's jollier tohave a proper private room."
"Good!" I said. "Then it only remains to escape from these specialmeals and the champagne."
"You leave that to me," said the Infant. "I'll tell Jones that youhunger for our company at meals, but that we can't consent to come uphere, because you, with that reckless prodigality which is wearing thedowager-duchess to a shadow, insist on paying for everything consumedon your premises, so that you must e'en come to the general table.Jones will be glad enough to trot you round."
"And I'll tell him," added Towers, "that, with that determineddipsomania which is making the money-lenders daily friendlier to yourlittle brother, you swill champagne till you fly at waiters' throatslike a mad dog, and that it is our sacred duty to diet you ontable-beer or Tintara."
"Wouldn't it be simpler to tell him the truth?" I asked feebly.
"What!" gasped the Infant, "chuck up the sponge? Don't spoil theloveliest holiday I ever had, old man. Just think how you will go upin his estimation, when we tell him you are a spendthrift and adrunkard! For pity's sake, don't throw a gloom over Jones's life."
"Very well," I said, relenting. "Only the exes must be cut down. Themotto must be, 'Extravaganza without extravagance, or farceseconomically conducted.'"
"Right you are!" they said; and then we smoked on in halcyonvoluptuousness, now and then passing the matches or a droll remarkabout Jones. In the middle of one of the latter there was a knock atthe door, and Jones entered.
"The carriage will be round in five minutes, my lord," he announced.
"The carriage!" I faltered, growing pale.
"Yes, my lord. I took the liberty of thinking your lordship wouldn'twaste such a fine afternoon indoors."
"No; I'm going out at once," I said resolutely. "But I shan't drive."
"Very well, my lord; I will countermand the carriage, and order ahorse. I presume your lordship would like a spirited one? Jayes, upthe street, has a beautiful bay steed."
"Thank you; I don't care for riding--er--other people's horses."
"No; of course not, my lord. I'll see that the _May blossom_ isreserved for your lordship's use this afternoon. Your lordship willhave time for a glorious sail before dinner."
He hastened from the room.
"You'd better have the carriage," said the Infant drily; "it's cheaperthan the yacht. You'll have to have it once, and you may as well getit over. After one trial, you can say it's too springless and thecushions are too crustaceous for your delicate anatomy."
"I'll see him at Jericho first!" I cried, and wrenched at thebell-pull with angry determination.
"Yes, my lord!"
He stood bent and insinuative before me.
"I won't have the yacht."
"Very well, my lord; then I won't countermand the carriage."
He turned to go.
"Jones!" I shrieked.
He looked back at me. His eyes, full of a trusting reverence, metmine. My resolution began oozing out at every pore.
"Is--is--are _you_ going with the carriage?" I stammered, for want ofsomething to say.
"No, my lord," he answered wistfully.
That settled it. I let him depart without another word.
It was certainly a pleasant drive through the delightful scenery ofthe Isle, and I determined, since I had to pay the piper, to enjoy thedance. The Infant and Towers were hilarious to the point of vulgarity:I let myself go at the will of Jones. When we got back, we realisedwith a start that it was half-past six. The dressing-gong wassounding. Jones met me in the passage.
"Dinner at seven, my lord, in your room."
I made frantic motions to the Infant.
"Tell him!" I breathed.
"It's too late now," he whispered back. "To-morrow!"
I telegraphed desperately to Towers. He shook his thick headhelplessly.
"Have you invited my friends to dinner?" I asked Jones bitingly.
"No, my lord," he said simply. "I thought your lordship 'ad seenenough of them to-day."
There was a suggestion of reproach in the apology. Jones was morecareful of my dignity than I was.
When I got to my room, I found, to my horror, my dress-clothes laidout on the bed--I had brought them on the off-chance of going to alocal dance. Jones had opened my portmanteau. For a moment a coldchill traversed my spine, as I thought he must have seen the monogramon my linen, and discovered the imposture. Then I remembered with joythat it was an "E," which is the more formal initial of Ted, and woulddo for Everett. In my relief, I felt I must submit to the nuisance ofdressing--in honour of Jones. While changing my trousers, a suddencuriosity took me. I peeped through the keyhole of my sitting-room,and saw Jones just arriving with another bottle of Heidsieck. Igroaned. I knew I should have to drink it, to keep up the fictionTowers was going to palm off on Jones to-morrow. I felt like boltingon the spot, but I was in my Jaegers. Presently Jones sidledmysteriously towards my door and knelt down before it. It flashed uponme he wanted the keyhole I was occupying. I jumped up in alarm, anddressed with the decorum of a god with a worshipper's eye on him.
I swallowed what Jones gave me, fuming. With the roast, a blessedthought came to soothe me. Thenceforward I chuckled continuously. Irefused the _parfait aux frais_ and the savoury in my eagerness forthe end of the meal. Revenge was sufficient sweets.
"Haw, hum!" I murmured, caressing my moustache. "Bring me a Damtidam."
I knew his little phial must be exhausted long since. I intended togive him a bottle.
"Did your lordship say Damtidam?"
"Damtidam!" I roared, while my heart beat voluptuous music. "You don'tmean to say you don't keep it?"
"Oh no, my lord! We laid in a big stock of it; but Lord Porchester wasthat fond of it (used to drink it like your lordship does champagne),I doubt if I could lay my hand on a bottle."
"What an awful bo-ah!" I yawned. "I suppose I'll have to get a bottleof my own out of that little black box under my bed. I couldn'tpossibly go without it after dinner. Hang it all, the key is in myother trousers!"
"Oh, don't trouble, my lord," said Jones anxiously. "I'll run and seeif I can find any."
I waited, gloating.
Jones returned gleefully.
"I've found plenty,
my lord," he said, setting down a brimmingliqueur-glass.
He lingered about, clearing the table. His eye was upon me. I drankthe Damtidam. Then Jones departed, and I went about kicking thefurniture, and striding about in my desolate grandeur, like Napoleonat St. Helena.
Presently the Infant and Towers came rushing in, choking withlaughter.
"Your arrival has fired afresh all Jones's aristocratic ambitions,"gurgled Towers. "Ha! ha! ha!"
"Ho! ho! ho!" panted the Infant. "He's coaxed us out of all ourremaining Damtidam."
I grinned a sickly response.
"Great Scot!" the Infant bellowed. "What's this howling wilderness ofshirt-front?"
"It's cooler," I explained.
CHAPTER III.
THE QUEEN COMES INTO PLAY.
I had to breakfast in my room, but by lunch the next day my friendshad found an opportunity to explain me to Jones. They had on severaloccasions strongly exhorted Jones to secrecy as to my rank, so thatthe eyes of the whole table were on me when I entered. I ate with theease of one conscious of giving involuntary lessons in etiquette to afurtive-glancing bourgeoisie. The Infant gave me Tintara, to break megradually of champagne and reduce me to malt. After lunch Towersremonstrated with Jones on having obviously given me away.
"Sir," protested Jones, in righteous indignation, "I promised to tellno one in the hotel, and I have kept my word!"
"Well, how do they know then?" enquired Towers.
"I shouldn't be surprised if they read it in the _Visitors' List_,"Jones answered.
Being now half-emancipated, I fell into the usual routine of a seasideholiday. I swam, I rowed, I walked, I lounged, whenever Jones wouldlet me. One wet morning we even congratulated ourselves on ourluxurious sitting-room, as we sat and smoked before the rain-whiptsea, till, unexpected, Jones brought up lunch for three. That evening,as we were entering the dining-room, Jones observed humbly to theInfant and Towers:
"Excuse me, gentlemen; I 'ave 'ad to separate you from his lordship.We've 'ad such a influx of visitors for the Review, I've been 'ard putto it to squeeze them all in."
Those wretched cowards marched feebly to a new extremity of the table,while I walked to my usual seat near the window, with anger flamingduskily on my brow. This time I was determined. I would stick totable-beer all the same.
But before I dropped into my chair every trace of anger vanished. Myheart throbbed violently, my dazzled eyes surveyed my _serviette_. Atmy side was one of the most charming girls I had ever met. When theHeidsieck came, I raised my glass as in a dream, and silently drank tothe glorious creature nearest my heart--on the left hand.
We medicos are not easily upset by woman's beauty; we know too wellwhat it is made of. But there was something so exquisite about thisgirl's face as to make a hardened materialist hesitate to resolve herinto a physiological formula. It was not long before I offered to passher the pepper. She declined with thanks and brevity. Her accentgrated unexpectedly on my ear: I was puzzled to know why. I spoke ofthe rain that still tapped at the window, as if anxious to come in.
"It was raining when I left Paris," she said; "but up till then I hada lovely time."
Now I saw what was the matter. She suffered from twang and wasAmerican. I have always had a prejudice against Americans--chiefly, Ibelieve, because they always seem to be having "a lovely time." It waswith a sense of partial disenchantment that I continued theconversation:
"So you have been in Paris?" I said, thinking of the old joke aboutgood Americans going there when they die. "I must admit you look as ifyou had come from Heaven!"
"So wretched as all that!" she retorted, laughing merrily. There wasno twang in the laugh; it was a ripple of music.
"I don't mean an exile from Heaven," I answered: "an excursionist,with a return-ticket."
"Oh! but I'm not going back," she said, shaking her lovely head.
"Not even when you die?" I asked, smiling.
"I guess I shall need a warmer climate then!" she flashed backaudaciously.
"You're too good for that," I answered, without hesitation.
I caught a mischievous twinkle in her blue eyes, as she answered:
"Gracious! you're very spry at giving strange folks certificates."
"It's my business to give certificates," I answered, smiling.
"Marriage certificates, my lord?" she asked roguishly.
I was about to answer "Doctors' certificates," but her last twosyllables froze the words on my lips.
"You--you--know me?" I stammered.
"Yes, your lordship," with a mock bow.
"Why--how--?" I faltered. "You've only just come."
"Jones," she answered.
"Jones!" I repeated, vexed.
"Yes, my lord."
He glided up and re-filled my glass.
"Jones is a nuisance," I said, when he was out of earshot again.
"Jones is a Britisher!" she said enigmatically. "Surely you don't mindpeople knowing who you are?"
"I'm afraid I do," I replied uneasily.
"I guess your reputation must be real shady," she said, with herAmerican candour. "You English lords, we have just about sized you upin the States."
"I--I--" I stammered.
"No! don't tell me," she interrupted quickly; "I'd rather not know. Myaunt here, that lady on my left,--she's a widow and half a Britisher,and respectable, don't you know,--will want me to cut you."
"And you don't want to?" I exclaimed eagerly.
"Well, one must talk to somebody," she said, arching her eyebrows."It's all very well for my aunt. She's left her children at home.That's happiness enough for her. But that don't make things equallylively for me."
"Your language is frank," I said laughingly.
"Yes, that's one of the languages you've forgotten how to speak inthis old country."
Again that musical ripple of mirth. Her fascination was fastenswathing me like another Jones, only a thousandfold more sweetly.Already I found her twang delightful, lending the last touch of charmto her original utterances. I looked up suddenly, and saw the Infantand Towers glaring enviously at me from the other end of the table.Then I was quite happy. True, they had the sprightly O'Raffertybetween them, but he did not seem to console them--rather to chaffthem.
"Ho! ho!" I roared, when we reached our sitting-room that night."There's virtue in the peerage after all."
"Shut up!" the Infant snarled. "If you think you're going to annexthat ripping creature, I warn you that bloated aristocracy will haveto settle up for its marble halls. We're running this thing bysyndicate, remember."
"Yes, but this isn't part of the profits," I urged defiantly.
"Oh, isn't it?" put in Towers. "Why do you suppose Jones sat her nextto you, if not as a prerogative of nobility?"
"Well, but if I can get her to go out with me alone, that's a privatetransaction."
"No go, Teddy," said the Infant. "We don't allow you to play for yourown hand."
"Or hers," added Towers. "While you were spooning, Jones was tellingus all about her. Her name's Harper--Ethelberta Harper, and her oldman is a Railway King, or something."
"She's a queen--I don't care of what!" I said fervently. "We got verychummy, and I'm going to take her for a row to-morrow morning. It'snot my fault if she doesn't pal on to you."
"Stow that cant!" cried the Infant. "Either you surrender her to thesyndicate or pay your own exes. Choose!"
"Well, I'll compromise!" I said desperately.
"No, you don't! It's to prevent your compromising her we want to standin. We'll all go for that row."
"No, listen to my suggestion. I'll invite her to lunch after the row,and I'll invite you fellows to meet her."
"But how do you know she'll come?" said Towers.
"She will if I ask her aunt too."
"Scoundrel, you've asked them both already!" cried the Infant."Where's the compromise?"
"I hadn't asked _you_ already," I reminded him.
"No, but now you propose to use the capital
of the syndicate!" herejoined sharply.
"Nothing of the kind," I retorted rashly.
So it was settled. I had four guests to lunch, and Jones expandedvisibly. The Infant and Towers kept Miss Harper pretty well tothemselves, while I was left to entertain Mrs. Windpeg, a comely buttedious lady, who gave me details of her life in England since sheleft New York, a newly married wife, twenty years before. She seemedgreatly interested in these details. Ethelberta paid no attention toher aunt, but a great deal to my friends. Several times I found myselfgnawing my lip instead of my wing. But I had my revenge at the _tabled'hote_. Jones kept my friends remorselessly at bay, and religiouslyguarded my proximity to the lovely American. Strange mentalrevolution! The idea of tipping Jones actually commenced to germinatein my mind.
It was on Review-day that I realised I was hopelessly in love. Ofcourse my quartet of friends was at the windows of my sitting-room.Jones also selected this room to see the Review from, and I fancy heregaled my visitors with delicate refreshments throughout the day, andI remember being vaguely glad that he made amends for the generalneglect of Mrs. Windpeg by offering her the choicest titbits; but Ihave no clear recollection of anything but Ethelberta. Her face was myReview, though there was no powder on it. The play of light on hercheeks and hair was all the manoeuvres I cared for--the pearls ofher mouth were my ranged rows of ships; and when everybody else waspeering hopelessly into the thick smoke, my eyes were feasting on thesunshine of her face. I did not hear the cannon, nor the long, endlessclamour of the packed streets, only the soft words she spoke from timeto time.
"To-morrow morning I must go away," I murmured to her at dinner. Ifancied she grew paler, but I could not be sure, for Jones at thatmoment changed my plate.
"I am sorry," she said simply. "Must you go?"
"Yes," I answered sadly. "My beautiful holiday is over. To-morrow, towork."
"I thought, for you lords, life was one long holiday," she said,surprised.
I was glad of the reminder. My love was hopeless. A struggling doctorcould not ask for the hand of an heiress. Even if he could, it wouldbe a poor recommendation to start with a confession of imposture. Toask, without confessing, were to become a scoundrel and afortune-hunter of the lowest type. No; better to pass from her ken,leaving her memory of me untainted by suspicion--leaving my memory ofher an idyllic, unfinished dream. And yet I could not help reflecting,with agony, that if I had not begun under false colours, if I had cometo her only as what I was, I might have dared to ask for herlove--yea, and perhaps have won it. Oh, how weak I had been not totell her from the first! As if she would not have appreciated thejoke! As if she would not have enrolled herself joyously in thecampaign against Jones!
"Ah! my life will be anything but a long holiday, I fear," I sighed.
"Say, you're not an hereditary legislator?" she asked.
"Legislation is not the hereditary disease I complain of," I saidevasively.
"What then?"
"Love!" I replied desperately.
She laughed gaily.
"I guess that's an original view of love."
"Why? My parents suffered from it: at least, I hope they did."
"Doubtful! Your Upper Ten is usually supposed to have cured marriageof it."
She bent her head over her plate, so that I strove in vain to read hereyes.
"Well, it's a beastly shame," I said. "Don't you think so, MissHarper--Ethelberta? May I call you Ethelberta?"
"If it gives you any comfort," she said plumply.
"It gives me more than comfort," I rejoined.
A wild hope flamed in my breast. What if she loved me after all! Iwould speak the word. But no! If she did, I had won her love under afalse glamour of nobility. Better, far better, to keep both my secretsin my own breast. Besides, had I not seen she was a flirt? I continuedto call her Ethelberta, but that was all. When we rose from table Ihad not spoken; knowing that my friends would claim my society for therest of the evening, I held out my hand in final farewell. She tookit. Her own hand was hot. I clasped it for a moment, gazing into thewonderful blue eyes; then I let it go, and all was over.
"I do believe Teddy is hit!" Towers said when I came into our room,whither they had preceded me.
"Rot!" I said, turning my face away. "A seasoned bachelor like me.Heigho! I shall be awfully glad to get to work again to-morrow."
"Yes," said the Infant. "I see from the statistics that the mortalityof your district has declined frightfully. That Robins must be aregular duffer."
"I'll soon set that right!" I exclaimed, with a forced grin.
"She certainly is a stunner," Towers mused.
"Hullo! I'm afraid it's Merton that's damaged," I laughedboisterously.
"Well, if she wasn't an heiress--" began Towers slowly.
"She might have you," finished the Infant. "But I say, boys, we'dbetter ask for our bills; we've got to be off in the morning by the8.5. Jones mightn't be up when we leave."
The room echoed with sardonic laughter at the idea. There was no needto ring for Jones; he found two pretexts an hour to come and gaze uponme. When my bill came, I went to the window for air and to hide myface from Jones.
"All right, Jones!" cried the Infant, guessing what was up. "We'llleave it on the table before we go to bed."
"Well?" my friends enquired eagerly, when Jones had crawled off.
"Twenty-seven pounds two and tenpence!" I groaned, letting theaccursed paper drift helplessly to the floor.
"D----d reasonable!" said the Infant.
"You would go it!" Towers added soothingly.
"Reasonable or not," I said, "I've only got six pounds in my pockets."
"You said you brought ten," said Towers.
"Yes! but what of carriage-sails and yacht-drives?" I criedagitatedly.
"You're drunk," said the Infant brutally. "However, I suppose, beforegoing into dividing exes we must get together the gross sum."
It was easier said than done. When every farthing had been scrapedtogether, we were thirteen pounds short on the three bills. We held along council of war, discussing the possibilities of surreptitiouspledging--the unspeakable Jones, playing his blindfold game, hadreduced us to pawn--but even these were impracticable.
"Confound you!" cried Merton Towers. "Why didn't you think of the billbefore?"
As if I had not better things to think of!
The horror of facing Jones in the morning drove us to the mostdesperate devices; but none seemed workable.
"There's only one way left of getting the coin, Teddy," said theInfant at last.
"What's that?" I cried eagerly.
"Ask the heiress."
It was an ambiguous phrase, but in whatever sense he meant it, it wasa cruel and unmanly thrust; in my indignation I saw light.
"What fools we have been!" I shouted. "It's as easy as A B C. I'm notin an office like you, bound to be back to the day--I stay on overto-morrow, and you send me on the money from town."
"Where are we to get it from?" growled Towers.
"Anywhere! anybody!" I cried excitedly; "I'll write to Robins at oncefor it."
"Why not wire?" said the Infant.
"I don't see the necessity for wasting sixpence," I said; "we must beeconomical. Besides, Jones would read the wire."
CHAPTER IV.
THE WINNING MOVE.
Time slipped on; but I could not tear myself away from this enchantedhotel. The departure of my friends allowed me to be nearly all daywith Ethelberta.
I had drowned reason and conscience: day followed day in a goldenlanguor and the longer I stopped, the harder it was to go. At lastRobins's telegrams became too imperative to be disregarded, and evenmy second supply of money would not suffice for another day.
The bitter experience of parting had to be faced again; the miserableevening, when I had first called her Ethelberta, had to be repeated.We spoke little at dinner; afterwards, as I had not my friends to goto this time, we left Mrs. Windpeg sitting over her dessert, andpaced up and down
in the little cultivated enclosure which separatedthe hotel from the parade. It was a balmy evening; the moon was up,silvering the greenery, stretching a rippling band across the sea, andtouching Ethelberta's face to a more marvellous fairness. The air washeavy with perfume; everything combined to soften my mood. Tears cameinto my eyes as I thought that this was the very last respite. Thosetears seemed to purge my vision: I saw the beauty of truth andsincerity, and felt that I could not go away without telling her who Ireally was; then, in future years, whatever she thought of me, I, atleast, could think of her sacredly, with no cloud of falseness betweenme and her.
"Ethelberta!" I said, in low trembling tones.
"Lord Everett!" she murmured responsively.
"I have a confession to make."
She flushed and lowered her eyes.
"No, no!" she said agitatedly; "spare me that confession. I have heardit so often; it is so conventional. Let us part friends."
She looked up into my face with that frank, heavenly glance of hers.It shook my resolution, but I recovered myself and went on:
"It is not a conventional confession. I was not going to say I loveyou."
"No?" she murmured.
Was it the tricksy play of the moon among the clouds, or did a shadeof disappointment flit across her face? Were her words genuine, or wasshe only a coquette? I stopped not to analyse; I paused not toenquire; I forgot everything but the loveliness that intoxicated me.
"I--I--mean I was!" I stammered awkwardly; "I have loved you from thefirst moment I saw you."
I strove to take her hand; but she drew it away haughtily.
"Lord Everett, it is impossible! Say no more."
The twang dropped from her speech in her dignity; her accents rangpure and sweet.
"Why not?" I cried passionately. "Why is it impossible? You seemed tocare for me."
She was silent; at last she answered slowly:
"You are a lord! I cannot marry a lord."
My heart gave a great leap, then I felt cold as ice.
"Because I am a lord?" I murmured wonderingly.
"Yes! I--I--flirted with you at first out of pure fun--believe me,that was the truth. If I loved you now," her words were tremulous andalmost inaudible, "it would be right that I should be punished. Wemust never meet again. Good-bye!"
She stood still and extended her hand.
I touched it with my icy fingers.
"Oh! if you had only let me confess just now what I wanted to!" Icried in agony.
"Confess what?" she said. "Have you not confessed?"
"No! You may disbelieve me now; but I wanted to tell you that I am nota lord at all, that I only became one through Jones."
Her lovely eyes dilated with surprise. I explained briefly,confusedly.
She laughed, but there was a catch in her voice.
"Listen!" she said hurriedly, starting pacing again; "I, too, have aconfession to make. Jones has corrupted me too. I'm not an heiress atall, nor even an American--just a moderately successful Londonactress, resting a few weeks, and Mrs. Windpeg is only my companionand general factotum, the widow of a drunken stage-carpenter, who lefther without resources, poor thing. But we had hardly crossed thesteps of the hotel, before Jones mentioned Lord Everett was in theplace, and buzzed the name so in our ears that the idea of a wildfrolic flashed into my head. I am a great flirt, you know, and Ithought that while I had the chance I would test the belief thatEnglish lords always fall in love with American heiresses."
"It was no test," I interrupted. "A Chinese Mandarin would fall inlove with you equally."
"I let Mrs. Windpeg tell Jones all about me--imaginatively," she wenton with a sad smile; "I told her to call me Harper, because _Harper'sMagazine_ came into my mind. But it was Jones who seated us together.I will believe that you took a genuine liking to me; still, it was afoolish freak on both sides, and we must both forget it as soon aspossible."
"I can never forget it!" I said passionately; "I love you; and I dareto think you care for me, though while you fancied I was a peer youstifled the feeling that had grown up despite you. Believe me, Iunderstand the purity of your motives, and love you the more forthem."
She shook her head.
"Good-bye!" she faltered.
"I will not say 'good-bye'! I have little to offer you, but itincludes a heart that is aching for you. There is no reason now why weshould part."
Her lips were white in the moonlight.
"I never said I loved you," she murmured.
"Not in so many words," I admitted; "but why did you let me call youEthelberta?" I asked passionately.
"Because it is not my name," she answered; and a ghost of the old gaysmile lit up the lovely features.
I stood for a moment dumbfounded. Unconsciously we had come to astandstill under the window of the dining-room.
She took advantage of my consternation to say more lightly:
"Come, let us part friends."
I dimly understood that, in some subtle way I was too coarse tocomprehend, she was ashamed of the part she had played throughout,that she would punish herself by renunciation. I knew not what to say;I saw the happiness of my life fading before my eyes. She held out herhand for the last time and I clasped it mechanically. So we stood,silent.
"What does that matter, Mrs. Windpeg? You're a real lady, that'senough for me. It wasn't because I thought you had money that Iventured to raise my eyes to you."
We started. It was the voice of Jones. Mrs. Windpeg had evidentlylingered too long over her dessert.
"But I tell you I have nothing at all--nothing!" came the voice ofMrs. Windpeg.
"I don't want it. You see, I'm like you--not what I seem. This placebelongs to me, only I was born and bred a waiter in this very hotel,and I don't see why the 'ouse shouldn't profit by the tips instead ofa stranger. My son does the show part; but he ain't fit for anythingbut reading Dickens and other low-class writers, and I feel the wantof a real lady, knowing the ways of the aristocrats. What with LordPorchester and Lord Everett, it looks as if this hotel is going to befashionable and I know there's lots of 'igh-class wrinkles I ain'tpicked up yet. Only lately I was flummoxed by a gent asking for aliqueur I'd never 'eard of. You're mixed up with tip-top swells; Iloved you from the moment I saw you fold your first _serviette_. I'm awidower, you're a widow. Let bygones be bygones. Why shouldn't we makea match of it?"
We looked at each other and laughed; false subtleties were swept awayby a wave of mutual merriment.
"'Let bygones be bygones. Why shouldn't we make a match of it?'" Iechoed. "Jones is right." I tightened my grasp of her hand and drewher towards me, almost without resistance. "You're going to lose yourcompanion, you'll want another."
Her lovely face came nearer and nearer.
"Besides," I said gaily, "I understand you're out of an engagement."
"Thanks," she said; "I don't care for an engagement in the Provinces,and I have sworn never to marry in the profession: they're a bad lot."
"Call me an actor?"
My lips were almost on hers.
"You played Lord Dundreary--not unforgivably."
Our lips met!
"Oh, Augustus," came the voice of Mrs. Windpeg, "I feel so faint withhappiness!"
"Loose your arms a moment, my popsy. I'll fetch you a drop ofDamtidam!" answered the voice of Jones.
The King of Schnorrers: Grotesques and Fantasies Page 6
